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omg-im-such-a-masochist · 3 years

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🧰🔧PAUL IN BLUE OVERALLS🔧🧰

Prompt: One innocent sexual fantasy will lead Y/N directly into “Paul’s” faithful services.

Word Count: Long-ish

Pairings: Drew McIntyre x Reader

Warnings: +18, smut, sexual fantasy, roleplay, oral sex (female and male receiving), masturbation (male and female), cursing, name calling.

Tag: @akiko-tanaka , @blondekel77 , @marlananicole , @theworldofotps , @new-zealand-chic , @drew-is-boo

Notes: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU *clap, clap*. Today is @drewmcintyrekoccsrocbwdgfan birthday and what better way to celebrate it than with a Daddy McIntyre smut? This whole idea came from one (of the many) conversations Des and I have, she casually mentioned this and I wanted to use it as a birthday gift to her for being such an amazing friend to me 🥰 Thank you Des, for everything and here’s to many more smutty birthdays yet to come 🥂😘. Y’all know the drill loves,sorry for misspellings,english isn’t my first language (bla bla bla),check out my other stories on my Masterlist if you’d like to(it would make your girl here very happy 😊) and my newest story as a fixed post. Okay,now let’s get to the fun part, shall we? Hope you’ll enjoy 😉

“Tell me one secret fantasy you have” Drew smirked

“If I tell you then it’s not a secret anymore is it?” I smugly smiled

“C’mon, Y/N! What’s wrong with you telling your husband a fantasy that you have?”

“I don’t have any” I lied

“Bullshit, everyone has it! And I find it hard to believe that you don’t have any with the amount of sex we have” He smirked

“Ok fine, I have it!”

“Ha! I knew it!” Drew proudly grinned

“But I won’t tell you”

His grin faded away “Why?”

“Because no, Drew” I start to scroll through my phone pretending to do something important

“I know you’re using your phone to avoid me, you know?!” He cackled

“Tell me one of yours then” I say, refusing to talk about my fantasy

“I always tell you my fantasies, woman!”

“Well-“ I start, but Drew interrupts me

“And you always make them come true so why don’t you tell me yours so I can do the same? Y/N, my love. We’re married for fuck sake! Why are you acting like a peasant girl who’s ankles I just saw?” He chuckled and I huffed

“C’mon princess, there’s nothing to be embarrassed about. It’s just me, love” He coos

“Promise me you won’t laugh?”

“I promise. Scouts word” He crosses his chest

“Ok, so I... I always thought about you know...I always wanted to fuck a porn star. But, those trashy ones, with the cheesy lines, like where the guy is a plumber or a construction worker or even the gardener” I can feel my cheeks burning with embarrassment

The room is silent, too silent. So I look up at Drew to find him struggling to hold back a laugh but failing completely when he meets my eyes

“You promised me you wouldn’t laugh!” I got up from the couch to leave the room, but Drew was faster, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards his lap

“No! I don’t want to talk to you! I’ll never tell you anything ever again Andrew!” I fight to free myself from his hand, but it was pointless. He successfully made me sit on his lap

“I’m not laughing at your fantasy love, I’m laughing at your reaction to it” He chuckled

“Shut up!” I bitterly said

“You looked so cute, all embarrassed like that because of a pretty simple fantasy. My peasant girl” He teased

I look at him with a frown and a pout

“Awww, don’t make that face, love. I could never laugh at you, you know that” Drew smooch me “Why haven’t you told me before?”

“Because it’s dumb and embarrassing!” I mumbled

“No it isn’t!” He hugged me tighter “It’s a simple fantasy. It shouldn’t take us long to put it together and-“

“We’re not doing it!” I cut him off

“Why not?”

“Because” I sigh “I’m gonna feel stupid doing it and it will turn me off” I lied so maybe he’ll let it go

“Y/N, baby c’mon, don’t be so grumpy” He tries to convince me “There’s no reason for you to feel ashamed, love. We’ve done way worst than that!” He lightly chuckled, trying to lift my mood up

“Can we drop it for now?” I look into his piercing blue eyes “Please, Drew?”

“Ok, ok...I dropped it” He reluctantly said as he caresses my thigh

ONE WEEK LATER

“You have got to be fucking kidding me” I muted under my breath

“Drew?” I call

“Yep” He peeks through the door

“This damn thing is leaking” I pointed towards the en suite bathroom faucet

“Oh shit, that’s why I heard some water dripping last night”

“Really babe?” I ask exasperated

“What? I thought it was one of the cats!”

I rolled my eyes “I already tried everything and it won’t stop. We have to call a plumber”

“Ok, I’ll call one”

I give a little tug on his t-shirt, a sign for him to lean down so I can kiss him “Thank you. I have to go or I’ll get late” I kiss him again

“Ok. Oh, I may not be here when you come back. I‘m gonna work out in the afternoon”

“Ok baby, have a nice day” I smiled

“Oh I will, love. And you will too” He smirked

And I make my way downstairs utterly confused with what Drew just said.

......................................................................

I got home from work and Drew, faithful to his word, wasn’t there. I make my way upstairs to our bedroom so I can take a shower and relax, when the sight of a pair of black worn out boots and blue overalls made me stop at the foot of the bed.

A man had his face tucked into the underside of the sink, while his hands fidget with the siphon. The position of his hands made impossible for me to look at his face.

*I can’t believe Andrew left a stranger alone in our house! I’m gonna kill you Drew* I thought

I was growing a little nervous to be alone with this strange man at my house. He was huge! Tall and broad and a part of me got a little intimidated by it, but I swallowed my fear and asked

“Excuse me, sir?” I voice was trembling

He grunts in response

“I’m sorry, I- I don’t mean to interrupt your work but could you please tell me when are you going to be done?” My voice was still shaky

“I don’t know, it depends” He answer with a thick foreign accent

“Depends on what, sir?” I murmured

“If the lady will want the complete service” He got up from the floor and my mouth dropped

“ANDREW, YOU FUCKER! YOU SCARED THE SHIT OUT OF ME!” I yelled

“Name is Paul, miss” He comes closer

“This is not funny, you know? Jesus Christ, I thought you left a stranger here by himself. And I was scared as fuck, thinking I would be alone with this random man at home..” I trail off as he stopped in front of me

“Will you want the complete service, miss?”

“Complete service?” I mumbled

He only smirked

“What is the complete service?” I whispered

“Well, I can help you with your wetness situation” Drew tilts his head to the side to stare at my ass “It will only take a long, thick and hard pipe” He grabs a handful of his bulge

And I couldn’t help but laugh

“Drew, don’t be ridiculous, lo- Oh shit!” I gasp in surprise with his hand laying forcefully against my ass cheek

“I already told you the name is Paul, miss”

He was so into this roleplay thing that I decided to not be the cock block and play along.

“Look, Paul” I begin and he happily smiled “I don’t know what services you want to offer but, I’m married” I pointed to my wedding ring

“I’m not jealous” He smirked

“But he is” I respond

He shake his head “He will only be if he finds out. I’m not gonna tell him, are you?” The determination upon his gaze was, to say the least, lustful.

“I’m not gonna tell him, because nothing will happen” I play hard to get

“Are you sure?” He tilted his head to stare at my backside once more “I’ve seen that pathetic excuse of what you call husband and I’m absolute certain he can’t handle all of that” He points with his chin to my ass

“He can” I weakly said

Drew arched his eyebrow “Can he though? Are you trying to convince me or yourself of that, sugar?” He cackled “You see, to me, it looks like you need a real man to fuck you, to ruin you, to make a good use out of that sweet pussy” He grabbed his erection through the fabric, easily taking a handful “And I’m a real man sweetheart” He took my hand, making me cup his hard on “This cock will fill you up in ways you never thought it was possible before. It will make you forget about that pitiful husband of yours. This dick will make you feel like a real woman being fucked by a real man, it will make you feel so fucking good you will never want him to touch you again” He smirks

And all I can do is squeeze his length in consent.

Drew quickly undressed me, tossing me onto the bed as he pulled the overalls down his torso painfully slow. The vision of his dark hair laying around his broad shoulders, his bare chest and abdomen with the upper part of the overalls around his hips made me moan

“Fuck babe, you look so fucking hot like that! I’m one lucky bitch!” I murmur, making him lowly growl and attack my lips in a famished kiss

Drew traveled his lips along my neck, collarbone, top of my breasts and nipples.

He holds both breasts on his hand, squeezing them together so he can fastly go from one nipple to the other.

He licked, sucked and lightly scraped his teeth on each bud, kneading the soft flesh underneath his palms and fingers with gentle yet firm touches.

He roamed down to my mound. Reaping my lace panties apart so he can stare at my leaking core.

“Look at this beautiful pussy” Drew gave me a long lick “Are you dripping like this just from playing with your tits, love?”

I nod “Yeah, because you’re so fucking good at it”

He smirked and placed a gentle kiss on my clit, making me whine.

“You’re so responsive, I love that” He gives me some kitten licks before continuing “I bet that jackass husband of yours never eats this pussy, does he?”

I shake my head, making Drew click his tongue in disapproval.

“What a shame, love. Such a beautiful, sweet, wet pussy just waiting to be eaten” He gave me a long teasing lick “Would you like that, princess? Would you like me to eat your pussy until you cum all over my mouth?”

“Yes, please” I panted

Drew stepped back to get rid of the overalls and underwear. He slides his length along my folds to collect some of my wetness so he can touch himself as he eats me out.

He kneels down on the floor, pulling me closer to the edge of the bed by my hips, Drew closed one fist around his cock and pumped up and down as his mouth closed around my clit, making me roll my eyes to the back of my head.

I moan and he growls, my growing need for release becoming unbearable until...he stops.

“What the fuck?” I faintly asked as I see him kneeling down on the bed.

I was feeling confused, until I felt two of his fingers sinking into my core as his palm rested against my clit, slightly pressing into it.

Drew pulled me by my hair until my lips were on his cock, making me open my mouth so he can slide in.

I hummed in pleasure from both his taste and his fingers pace. The slapping sounds of his fingers and palm against my pussy was pornographic.

I bob my head faster and apply more pressure into his cock’s head making him moan my name loudly.

“Fuck, stop Y/N, stop damn it!” Drew yanked me off of him with a hard tug on my hair

He got up from the bed, pulled me down by my ankles and fastly turned me onto my stomach. I feel his weight on the mattress behind me as he places himself between my legs, quickly entering my core with one hard thrust.

“Oh fuck” I whine

Drew grabs two handfuls of my ass, keeping me in place while he mercilessly pound me. He leaned down, pressing his cheek to mine

“You like being fucked like this don’t you?” He grunted “You love being such a good little whore for me, right princess?”

“Yes, sir”

“Say it!”

“I love being such a good little whore for you, sir” I panted

Drew smacked my ass and placed both of his hands around my neck to both to use it as leverage for his thrusts.

“Who’s fucking this pussy so good, huh?”

“You are, sir”

“And what does a good whore says, Y/N?”

“Thank you, sir” I mumbled

“That’s right, baby” He chuckled

Drew hits my g-spot making me scream

“Oh fuck, it feels so good. You’re fucking me so good, sir! Oh please, don’t stop. Thank you, sir...thankyouthankyouthank” I babble

“You’re gonna cum, Y/N? That’s why you’re clenching so good around my cock baby?”

I nod as much as I can “Please, sir. Let me cum, I beg you” I whined

“You’re look so beautiful, princess. So fucking precious. Cum, love”

I feel numb, almost in an outer body experience from the orgasm ecstasy as I feel Drew release in me. He’s growls and grunts only making the post orgasmic bliss last longer.

I feel him carefully pulling out of me and a few minutes after the warm washcloth cleaning me up.

When he lays down on the bed by my side I mumbled half asleep

“You’re something else, Scotsman”

Drew laughs pulling me up so I can rest my head on his chest.

“The idea was yours, princess”

“But you executed perfectly” I coo

“Well, thank you” He cackled “Was this enough to make you lose your embarrassment to tell me your fantasies?”

“Mhm, if this is going to be the final outcome, I’ll make sure to write them down so you can perform each and every one of them”

“I would like that, love” He chuckled lightly, kissing my forehead as I swim into a deep slumber

Dreaming of a certain plumber named Paul....

Please let me know your thoughts on this and leave me some feedback if you’re comfortable with it 🥰😘

#drew mcintyre imagine #drew mcintyre smut #drew mcintyre fanfic #drew mcintyre x oc #drew mcintyre x reader #drew mcintyre one shot #drew galloway #drew mcintyre #wwe x reader #wwe smut #wwe imagine #wwe fanfiction #wwe one shot #masochist writes

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evening-starlight · 3 years

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Warm Beers

Taglist is OPEN! DM or comment to be added.

Posting Schedule: Monday, Wednesday, Friday

This is set before season 1

All Works Master List

Warm Beers Master List

Word Count: 1496

Victor watches as Kenzie slumps down the stairs, wiping sleep from her eyes. "Good morning, sleeping beauty," He jokes. Kenzie groans in response and shuffles her way into the kitchen. "Why are you up so early?" Victor asks, looking at the clock on the microwave reading three in the morning.

"John B. wanted to go fishing, and now I'm suddenly regretting that decision," Kenzie mumbles, laying her head on the side of the fridge as she glances inside. "Why do I do the things I do for my friends?" Victor laughs and pours her two thermoses of coffee.

"Does John B. like cream or sugar?" He asks while he makes Kenzie's the way she likes it. Kenzie groans again with a shrug, grabbing the food she packed last night. Her father laughs at her with a shake of his head. "When did you get to sleep last night?"

"Like eight or nine," She says, piling her food and drinks on the counter. "Is my rod in the garage still?" He dad nods at her question, and she goes out looking for that and her tackle box. She finds them propped up on the wall near her dad's squad car.

"Is John B. picking you up?" Victor asks as she gets back into the kitchen. Kenzie nods again and goes over her mental checklist of fishing gear. She's got her fishing rod, the tackle and bait, and the food for their morning. "Be safe out there, okay?"

"I know, Dad. I'll make sure John B. behaves," She says. The father and daughter hear the Twinkie pull up, and soon after, Kenzie's phone starts to vibrate in her pocket. "John B. is here. I'll see you after work." Kenzie states and hugs her dad goodbye. John B. meets her at the door and helps her carry her gear to the van, greeting Mr. Shoupe on the way.

Kenzie leans her head against the door frame, closing her eyes once John B. starts the van. "Tired there, Shoupe Jr?" Kenzie whines in confirmation, trying to get a few more minutes of shut-eye before they go fishing. John B. lets Kenzie rest until they get back to his house.

They load the boat up and are soon off to their favorite fishing spot in the marsh. The friends sit in silence while they wait for the fish to latch on. "So, what's going on with you and JJ?" John B asks after what feels like an eternity of silence. Kenzie chokes on her coffee, not expecting such an outright question.

"We're friends like everyone is," Kenzie says. John B. rolls his eyes and looks at Kenzie, unamused. "Don't give me that look. He's just my best friend and nothing more. What's going on with you and Kie?"

"Don't flip this on me, Shoupe. This is about that stupid tension you and JJ have." McKenzie rolls her eyes and ignores John B. as he presses again. "Come on, Kenz. We can all see it. You're always touching and flirting with each other."

"Flirting?" Kenzie laughs. "If you consider hitting and yelling flirting, sure."

"The way you two do it, yes. It is," John B. fires back, smirking at the annoyed look Kenzie wears. Kenzie waves off her stupid friend and goes back to fishing in the tranquil silence of the early morning.

After nearly three hours of fishing, John B. and Kenzie walk up the dock, back towards the chateau. "I need a fucking nap," Kenzie complains, dropping herself on the couch in his living room. John B. hums in response and walks into his room, closing the door behind him.

Kenzie is rudely awoken from her nap when the front door slams shut. "Jesus Christ, what do I have to do to get some fucking sleep?" She mumbles into the cushion, opening a single eye to look at the intruder. Pope stands over her, smiling brightly down at her with three books clutched to his chest. "What is it? Book club?" She asks, closing her eye again.

"No, but it could be," Pope says excitedly. He moves her legs so he can sit under them. "I remembered these books I had, and I thought you'd like them."

"I'll only listen if you get me coffee," Kenzie says as she sits up. She rubs the sleep out of her eyes as Pope dashes into the kitchen to get her a cup of coffee. Kenzie thanks Pope when he returns with her caffeine.

Pope's shoulder sags when Kenzie lays her head on his shoulder, ready to listen to the books Pope brought over. He talks about the plots, his favorite characters, and twists. Kenzie listens intently, excited for the new books Pope will share with her when he's done rambling.

John B. comes out of his room, shirtless, and sees the friends raving about their favorite book series. "Jesus, I didn't know I walked in on a book club," John B. teases.

"You'd probably enjoy it if you weren't illiterate," Pope shoots back. McKenzie laughs and takes the books from Pope's lap. John B. flips his friend off as he enters the kitchen to pour himself a bowl of cereal. "How was fishing?"

"Fine. I'm still tired as shit because somebody needed to wake up at three in the fucking morning," Kenzie groans. John B. smirks when she gives him a dark, pointed stare. "How was your morning, Pope?"

"I cleaned out my room and then figured I'd stop by because I have no other life or friends," Pope sighs.

"Sounds like a loser," John B. comments through a mouthful of cereal. Kenzie stifles a laugh and watches as Pope tosses a coaster towards their friend. "When are the other fuckers coming?"

"Kiara should be here soonish. She worked an early morning at the Wreck. Ask JJ's girlfriend when he'll be here," Pope says, glancing at Kenzie. She groans and throws her hands up in agony.

"I'm not his stupid girlfriend," She whines, punching Pope's thigh. "Why does everyone think that?"

"He looks at you the way John B. looks at playboy magazines and the way Kiara looks at new shoes. JJ never lets anyone touch him, let alone cuddle him," Pope starts, making Kenzie roll her eyes.

"JJ looks at you the same way he looks at food, and Pope looks at books," John B. intervenes with a smirk. Kenzie throws her head back and groans loudly. Kiara walks in, arms full of take-out containers, and sees the boys smirking and Kenzie in anguish.

"Woah, what'd you idiots do to Kenz?" She asks, putting the food in the fridge for later.

"Telling Shoupe that JJ loves her," John B. answers quickly. Kiara giggles and joins in.

"Have we told her that he looks at her the same way John B. looks at his porno mags?" She asks, making Kenzie groan again.

"I will murder all of you and get away with it," She huffs with a roll of her eyes again.

"JJ looks at Kenzie the way Eugene looks at Rapunzel," Pope adds, making the group laugh. "Oh! Or the way Rafe Cameron looks at coke." Kenzie can't help but laugh at that one. Nothing could come between Rafe and his cocaine.

Kenzie continues to sit through their annoying remarks until they're all laughing up a storm at their friend's expense. Pope leans a head-on Kenzie's shoulder as his laughter dies down. "You know we love you, McKenzie."

"Shut up, Heyward," Kenzie shrugs Pope off her shoulder and moves to turn on the TV. Kiara parks herself next to Kenzie as she hears the intro to her favorite guilty pleasure, The Real Housewives of New Jersey.

It started when both girls were bored out of their minds one afternoon when the boys weren't around. They sat in Kiara's living room, channel surfing for something to watch together. They ended up on reality TV and fell in love with criticizing the women who had it all and yelled for more.

Kenzie is nearly asleep on Kiara's shoulder when JJ bursts through the front door, holding a game case in his hands. "Kenzie, get your ass up. I got the new Call Of Duty." Kenzie sits up quickly, not feeling tired anymore.

"Put it in. Put it in," Kenzie chants as she grabs the gaming controllers from the coffee table. JJ rushes to change over the TV to the gaming system and practically shoves the DVD in. "Be careful, J. It's a baby," Kenzie whines.

"Shut up," JJ mumbles back when it finally slides in. He jumps over the coffee table and squeezes between Kenzie and Pope.

"You know there's a whole other couch, right, JJ?" Pope huffs, shifting uncomfortably against the arm of the couch.

"Yeah, so why don't you go sit over there?" JJ bites back as Kenzie scrolls through the opening menu. Kenzie elbows him slightly, a warning to play nice, and starts a game with the two of them.

Taglist: @Gwenlovesharrystyles @x-lulu @gviosca @cognacdelights @queenofallhobos

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nxmuzluv · 3 years

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ariana birthday hcs !! —

it’s september 1st in south korea & japan rn,,,, so you know what that means

26th birthday hcs 👁👁

(this post is long as hell so brace urselves lmao)

on the morning of her birthday, ariana is woken up by either twitter and message notifications or her husband

her fans are blowing up her mentions with birthday wishes and her family & friends are doing the same, so bet that she has about a million notifs

since byakuya gets ready for work before ariana, he usually comes back to wake her up (even if she’s already up lol)

he hands her coffee (a caramel macchiato with a shit ton of cream and three sugars), tells her “good morning” and “happy birthday, love,” and kisses her on the forehead

(SOBBINFGMNBKJHBMK)

they usually have a short lil conversation about whatever (what they’re going to do that day, ariana’s birthday, other random topics) before byakuya tells ariana to go to work lol

but before she does, she usually opens twitter and scrolls down her birthday hashtags (which are already trending with about 100,000 or so tweets lmao), and responds to her text messages

three hashtags i came up with are “#AutumnFairyAri,” “#26WishesForAriana,” and “#아름이하트27개” (#27HeartsForAhreum) 🥺

(the last one is because ariana is 27 in korea lol)

guaranteed that she’s smiling like an idiot at those tweets lol

if her fans are lucky, ariana might like their post. if they’re extra lucky, she might even respond-

(cue the combustion of her fanbase)

then she posts a lil morning selfie, thanks her fans for all the birthday wishes, complains about how she has to go to work on her birthday, and then she finally gets ready for work lol

as ariana does, her fanbase is literally in flames lmao they’re screaming at her new selfie (“LOOK AT HER HAIR OMG MNJSHFJFMNGJ” - one of ariana’s fans, most likely), flooding her comment section, and taking over the trending page

ari and byakuya usually leave together, and ariana gets dropped off first, so when she does, they usually say goodbye to each other & byakuya gives her another kiss on the head

ofc they say “i love you” to each other, and if anyone around them has sumn to say about it, then byakuya can just make their jobs disappear !! 😗✌🏽

once ariana gets to work, she’s immediately greeted by another round of birthday wishes and the occasional gift (because oh my GOD she gets so many from her staff)

the best gift comes from her manager of 22 years, yoo miyeon. that woman is literally like ariana’s second mother it’s so cute-

miyeon usually says something along the lines of “remember when you were shorter than me ???” (it is now the other way around lmao)

near the end of her day, ariana sits in her company’s conference room, goes live on vlive, and opens the shit ton of gifts, cards, letters, and bouquets that were sent to her by her fans (and god damn doesn’t she get a lot-)

(ariana loves the bouquets,,, she literally squeals every time she sees that she got another one :(( she’ll be making flower arrangements with all of them later on lol and she’ll probably go live again 👁👁)

her birthday lives are one of the things ariana loves the most. she gets to speak to her fans, speak to her staff all casually, and her fans get to see her again. it’s a win-win :))

(bet, byakuya is watching that live when he has the time and has sent a message to ariana. when she spots his message, knows it’s him, and gets incredibly happy is one of the best moments of the live)

she also speaks to her family (they’re all in korea and america while she’s in japan 😕) during the live !! near the end, ari blows out the candles of the cakes that were bought for her by her staff and her family, and she answers questions from her fans

(lol remember back in 2011 when ari’s fans thought she was gonna finish high school & come back to korea, but instead she met this tall blond mf, fell in love with him, moved in with him, and then ended up marrying him 10 years later so now she’s really not coming back ??? lmao good times 🤣🤣🤣)

it’s a v nice moment & if you miss it, that’s such a loss lol ariana rarely goes live since she’s always so busy

after well over 12 hours, ari’s work day is finally over. on those types of days, she gets home before byakuya at around 7 or 8pm

after work, both of them go to dinner !! :))

while byakuya is coming home, ariana just gets ready. there’s a dress from byakuya that was hung by his staff in ariana’s closet (it’s black and designer, ofc 🙄✋🏽), and all ari has to do is shower, do her hair and makeup, pick out her shoes, and pick out a bag from the literal hundreds that she has

say it with me, y’all !! bag hag

ariana goes live on instagram while she does that as some kind of “get ready with with me” thing. she gets to talk to her fans again (especially her stan twitter ones lol), ask how she should style her hair & do her makeup, and ask what accessories she should choose

she also plays music in the background (especially britney spears, christina aguilera, the pussycat dolls, rihanna, nelly furtado, gwen stefani, lee hyori, or hyuna because they make her feel hotter than she already is lmao) !!

and ari sings to whatever’s playing and she gets haruka-

(am i allowed to put her here ??? i’ll just put here here lol 🤪)

-to say hi & help with her hair and makeup, so ariana’s lives are just a gold mine worth of content lmao

byakuya comes home just a lil while before ariana’s finished, and ofc, she forces asks him to say hi to her fans

lmao all that man does is silently wave with the world’s straightest face, and the chat is just yelling about how fine he is (“GO OFF RICH BOY” - one off ariana’s fans, probably). like HE’S NOT DOING ANYTHINGFGDHMBK

but as they should 😩☝🏽

ariana asks her fans if she should leave or stay on the live for a while longer, and ofc, they usually say that she should stay,,,, but that woman rarely listens tbh ASMNKHJFMNJK

she might stay for like,,, 5 minutes, but usually, she just leaves lmao

a lil while before she and byakuya leave, they talk to each other and to haruka for a while, and haruka probably most definitely takes polaroid pictures of ari and byakuya before they leave lol

(ariana def posts those on twitter later and all byakuya does is retweet them)

(but ofc he’ll tweet out a post wishing his wife a happy birthday,,, okay byakuya, look at you making progress !!)

the restaurant ariana and byakuya go to is of course very fancy and luxurious (it probably serves french cuisine too lmao). ari insists that they get a table on the rooftop, and since it’s her birthday (and since he loves her sm), byakuya complies :))

they talk the entire night, and if she can, ariana reaches over to hold byakuya’s hand most of the time :((

(taking a bit from rae’s hcs on how byakuya would celebrate his s/o’s birthday,,,,, like i’ve kinda been doing the whole time 🚶🏽‍♀️)

after dinner, the two of them will take a walk through tokyo. ariana would love it (well, not really, because she’s wearing literal heels lmao), especially since she and byakuya rarely get to do things like that. she’ll be taking pictures of things she finds interesting and would 100% ask byakuya to take pictures of her (and vice versa)

(she’s posting those on twitter too,,, ariana nation is getting fed well lol)

and then they can finally go back home and stay home, and ariana can finally open the rest of her gifts !!

they’re gifts from her family, her close friends, and of course, from byakuya and haruka !! ari’s literally smiling the whole time as she opens her presents (especially the ones from her family,,, hayley’s homemade birthday cards are always so cute 🥺), and haruka has that polaroid camera out again

(ariana: does anything)

(haru: you’re doing great sweetie !! 😀📸)

idk exactly what ariana would want for her birthday (tmw you don’t even know the preferences of your own character 🧍🏽‍♀️), but most likely, it’s either something homemade or a designer item lmao (mainly another purse-)

fun fact: her aunt josephine spoils the shit out of her lol like ariana could see a bunch of bags from chanel, louis vuitton, and yves saint laurent and automatically think “yeah, that’s my aunt lol”

ariana facetimes her family again, as well !! they get to speak to byakuya and haruka, they sing “happy birthday” to her in korean, they ask her if she liked their gifts, and it’s just a very cute family moment :))

it’s like,,, 11pm by the time ari finishes opening her presents, so she really has to go to bed

before that though, she spams her followers with the pictures that were taken, and posts one last “thank you” tweet before her birthday inevitably ends 😕

(well not really since it’s gonna be september 1st in other parts of the world lmao)

“everyone! thank u sooo much for all the birthday wishes u gave me today! it wouldn’t have been such a great one without y’all, my family, my best friends, my husband (@ByakuyaTogami), and my no. 1 fan, my sister-in-law lmao (@harukaonice). i love each and every single one of y’all with my entire heart, and i’m so glad u love me just as much 🥺 i saw as many of ur posts as i could, and i just wanna thank y’all for reaching over a million tweets! can’t believe y’all think that i’m that important lol (i mean, ofc i am 🙄✋🏻) anyways, once again, thank y’all smmmm! love y’all lots!! <3 ari <3” - ariana’s tweet 🥺 (that she posts in four different languages lol; english, korean, japanese, and french !!)

(SHE’S SUCH A SWEETHEART IM LITERALLY CRINGHMNHJDJGKM)

then ariana and byakuya finally go to sleep (it’s like 1am now jesus christ-), and ariana’s twitter notifications are still blowing tf up lmao

n e ways, that ends this behemoth of a post !! happy birthday to my baby, ariana park and even though she doesn’t exist (😕), i hope she enjoys it to the fullest !!

bonus !!

if she has a public appearance scheduled before or on her birthday, if fans are allowed to attend, they sing “happy birthday” to her whenever they see her !!

like, she could be entering a building and they would sing it, and then she could exit a few hours later & they’ll sing it again lol

ariana’s just like, “babes, you already sang this to me earlier !!”

when it comes to her “more important” birthdays (although her birthdays are always important)—such as her 18th, 20th, or 21st birthdays—ariana will throw quite a big party. like there would be a bunch of celebrities and popular society figures on the list,,, it would be a whole spectacle that the average person could only dream of getting into lmao (like me, ofc 🚶🏽‍♀️)

when ari was a child, her parents would throw a birthday party for her nearly every year lol,,, and while they were living in korea together, they would have dinner with nearly their entire family, too

(she always got two cakes, too,,, like it’s just kinda tradition for the park family at this point lol)

since ariana and jungkook (from bts) share the same birthday, either one of them message each other to wish each other a happy birthday !! ari also sends him a gift, while jungkook posts said gift on twitter and probably fanboys,,, i have a feeling that he would be a fan of her and her dramas,,, as well as the rest of bts

(they have each other’s numbers because ariana is a korean celebrity and they’ve attended events together on multiple occasions,,, ofc she and bts know each other lmao)

and i forgot to mention, but haruka would totally watch ariana’s birthday vlive if she didn’t have practice or something,,, probably sending as many messages as she can & aggressively hearting the live lmao,,, that girl really is ariana’s biggest fan SKJMNNFJMK

i also forgot to mention that JH entertainment (ariana’s agency) releases photos from a birthday photo shoot that they did with her !! they have different themes every year and they’re always so cute :((

they’re also taken prior to ariana’s actually birthday, especially since she’s always in japan now lol (but like,,, how do people not notice her going back and forth between korea & japan sometimes-)

(also, big verified accounts and celebrities on twitter & instagram wishing ariana a happy birthday >>>>>)

(celebrity tingz 🤪)

n e ways, now i’m done !! happy birthday, ari ilysm <3

(the character of haruka togami belongs to @raes-ramblings, btw !!)

#this took ALL FUCKING DAY #i started this when i was going to school & now school’s almost OVER #oh GAWD 🧎🏽‍♀️#i’m so glad i finished this tho !! it was so fun to write :))#once again happy birthday ari ily with all my heart !!#(and congrats on ur marriage 👀)#cece speaks :)#cece writes :)#danganronpa #danganronpa oc #headcanons #trigger happy havoc #danganronpa 1 #dr1 #trigger happy havoc oc #oc headcanons #byakuya togami #byakuya x oc #oc x canon

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jesshq · 3 years

Text

disney villain and henchmen randomness:

made this for @slashingdisneypasta

all of these are random things I thought the villains and henchmen would be like, I hope you like them

also I censored cussing that was text, but if you go to the video links there will be cussing so be warned, also if you watch the video’s imagine the Disney villain or henchmen are those people in the videos:

Panic, kronk, lefou, Reuben, Kaa, Joanna, and fidget: “eating a cinnamon bun each”

The other henchmen: cannibalism/cannibals…

Panic, kronk, lefou, Reuben, Kaa, Joanna, and fidget: ? “Heard that and don’t get it why their being called cannibals”

(they are cinnamon rolls and must be protected)

Diablo: you insufferable, reprehensible, deplorable, vermin

Goon 1 (the pig like one): wha?

Goon 2 (bird like one): it’s aristocratic talk for “f$#% off dips$#%$”

Horus: you’re full of s$#%.

Iago: my overall personality or my dishonesty?

Banzai: ED! Don’t run with sharp rocks!

Banzai: “hands Ed a sharp bone” try this

(This one had scissors and a butterfly knife but the hyenas are from the pridelands so sharp rocks and bones seem more accurate)

[in a argument]

Pain: f$%# you

Pegasus: “in a horse which the imps can understand” later, now listen here you little shit…

(I ship pain x Pegasus ok….pain even admits he loves Pegasus in the movie 2when Pegasus was beating him and panic up)

Kronk: “making spinach puffs and freezing” my sad friend senses are tingling…

“Cut showing a crying Anastasia”

Kronk: “runs for her startling her” ahhhhh!!!!

Anastasia: aaahhhh!?!?!?!

kronk: “hugs her” no cry friend

Anastasia: “giggles and wipes tears from her eyes”

(Look up animated a grump: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AaV8NeT0fnY&t=835s and imagine pain and panic as arin and Iago or flotsam and jetsam as Danny, and a random henchmen as Ross)

(Another game grumps thing: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4xrS5NEBKjU )

“Ursula, and jafar and hades playing a glitchy game”

Ursula: now look how silly this is “flying around”

Hades: you have to….”character gets stuck”

Jafar and Ursula: oh...ooohhhhh “hades gets up and leaves glowing red” heheheh

Jafar: hades don’t leave hehehehe “hades closes the door”

Ursula: HAAAAADEEEEEES I LOVE YOU~ “trying to get the characters free”

hades: NO IM F%&$ING DONE!! IM F%&$ING DONE!!

Jafar: “losing his s&$t laughing” no your not

Hades: this is bulls&$#

Ursula: hades! “Laughing at hades rage too”

Hades: look at this bull#$& man

Jafar: hades! “Laughing more”

Hades: you gotta draw a line in the sand!

Ursula: hades “laughing more”

Hades: you have to draw a line in the f#$%ing sand guys!!

Ursula and jafar: “laughing so hard”

Hades: you have to make a statement!!!

Hades: “as Ursula and Jafar laugh harder” you gotta look inside yourself and say ‘what am I willing to put up with today?’ NOT F*&%ing THIS!!! “Flames up and points to the tv screen”

Ursula: “gets the character free” IM FREE I BELIEVE I CAN FLY

(Listen to grump it: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=s9gRg3_A-RM thinking of Disney villains and henchmen raging at a game)

10.

Scar: “to facilier” what do you wanna eat?

Friends from the other side: the souls of the innocent~

Facilier and shadow (facilier’s shadow): a bagel

Friends from the other side: NO!

Facilier and shadow: 2 bagels

11.

Kaa and shere khan, cruella de vil, Horus and jasper: “to hades and pain and panic, scar and the hyenas” did you know you can’t say bubbles angry

Hades and pain and panic, scar and the hyena: really?

“Later”

Maleficent: does anyone know why hades, scar and their henchmen are on the roof trying to angrily yell/screaming bubbles on the roof

Kaa and shere khan, cruella de vil, Horus and jasper: “choke on their drink/food in laughter”

12.

Iago and jafar: “notice hades and the imps over working” what are you doing?

Hades and the imps: working

Jafar and Iago: you guys should rest, look at your hands “gestures to hades and the imps cramping hands from signing scrolls”

Hades and the imps: we’re ok just let’s us-

Jafar and Iago: “pouting”

Hades and the imps: what’s that look for?

Jafar and Iago: “grabs their friends and tries to drag them off their chairs but fails” GO REST

scar and the hyenas: “see this and join in trying to pester hades and the imps into taking a break” you can work later

Jafar and Iago: “leave to Ursula and the eels room where hook and mr smee are” Ursula, flotsam and jetsam, mr smee and hook. Hades and the imps are overworking themselves again…

Ursula and the eels: excuse?!?...

Mr smee and hook: what?!?...

“Little later”

Ursula and eels: “coiled around hades and the imps with coils and tentacles and drags them off their chairs by their desks” HADES! PAIN AND PANIC! REST!

Hades and the imps: “unholy screeching and complaints as their dragged to their room”

Hook and mr smee: “follow to help Ursula and the eels”

Facilier and shadow (insert other villains and henchmen): “coming back from the store and see Ursula and the eels dragging hades and the imps to their room, with hook and smee following” f$#% this s#$& we’re out “leaves”

(hades and the imps are workaholics)

13.

Frollo: “minding his own business when hades, facilier, shadow and the imps tap him from behind and he turns around ” OOOOOH MY F&#$ING GOD!, IT'S A DEMON/WITCHCRAFT SPAWN!! JESUS CHRIST WHAT THE F$#&!!! OH MY F$#%ING GOD! F%&#ING DEMON/WITCHCRAFT SPAWNS! JESUS CHRIST “falls on his knees” WHAT THE F$#$#$#$#$#&!!!

Hades and facilier: “losing their s#$& laughing”

Pain and panic and shadow: “as well laughing hard”

14.

Hades: “holding pain and panic and his third imp neurosis (actually a canon thing in the animated series)” these are my sons you can’t have them... good day sir

“Person tries to touch the imps”

Hades: “flares up and holds the imps tighter” I SAID GOOD DAY SIR! “leaves with the imps”

15.

“The villains and henchmen are out in a mall and missing hades, jafar and Ursula as well as their henchmen in the crowd”

Mr smee and hook: oh dear we’re missing some of us

Shadow and facilier: oh don’t worry

Gaston and lefou: no one can find allies like Gaston and lefou

Facilier, Gaston, lefou and shadow: “takes a deep breaths and yell” HADES, JAFAR AND URSULA ARE THE WEAKEST AND IDIOTS OF THE DISNEY VILLAINS / PAIN AND PANIC, FLOTSAM AND JETSAM AND IAGO ARE THE WEAKEST AND DUMBEST OF THE HENCHMEN!!!!

“A giant snake and angry squawks, electric zaps along with a women yell, and three fire flare ups of teal, red, and pink appear in the crowd each followed by angry cursing and more”

Gaston and lefou, shadow and facilier: found them ^^~

All the other villains and henchmen: oh boy/dear/dang it

16.

(vanossgaming team 6 animated prank part: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CguHTxrMQ0A (imagine the henchmen as human like with animal/creature parts example iago looks like a harpy): with vanoss being iago, wildkat being banzi, basically as shadow, delirious being flotsam and jetsam, terroriser being pain and panic (due to their immortal state XD) and nogla being a ‘I don’t know what’s going on’ kronk )

17.

Hades: BOYS!!!!

Pain and Panic: WHATEVER IT WAS WE DIDN'T DO IT!!!

Hades: “realizes the thing he was looking for and thought the imps stole it was on his desk the whole time” oh...NEVER MIND

18.

(before I do this one I need to explain, my headcanon that the disney characters have ‘worlds’ they live in with their movies era example: hercules characters live in ‘ancient’ greece in their ‘world’ but have some modern day things made using magical things (like TV, indoor plumbing, magic like phones) added to their ‘worlds’ but hercules, aladdin and little mermaid characters are share the same ‘world’ as in the hercules animated series: ursula appears in the episode hercules and the bacchanal, and then there's hercules and the arbian night where hades and jafar team up)

Maleficent: “thinking with ursula” so are you and hades related and you, him and jafar are from the same world ooorrrr….

Ursula: I honestly don’t know…. I know we live in the same ‘world’ but… “thinking too” my father is Hades and Zeus’s brother if i'm right.....

19.

Pain and Panic, Iago and Shadow and Flotsam and Jetsam: “flying/swimming round around hyper as all hell” WOOOOOOOO

Faciler and Jafar: “groans as they watch their henchmen on sugar high”

Hades: ok who’s the wise guy who gave them sugar…. “Tired/angry dad mood activated”

Kronk: I did...they wanted to test some sweets for me…”thinks he’s going to get in trouble”

Ursula: oh well then that's ok then Kronk you didn’t know, that they get sugar high

Jafar: I'm not dealing with the crash thou.. Uh where did they go?

Frollo: “in a different room” *HIGH PITCH GIRLISH SCREAM* THE DEMONS HAVE GONE CRAZY!!!

Hades: found them~.. “Smiles evil like” let’s leave them with him~

20.

Hades: “passed out on the couch with pain and panic asleep on him” zzzz

Jafar: “peeks over holding a marker with Iago”

gaston: “peeks over too with lefou with makeup”

“3 hours later”

Hades: “wakes up and along with the imps and they don’t notice what their friends did, and head to the kitchen”

Ursula and the eels: “see hades and the imps and choke on their cups of coffee”

Maleficent: “giggles seeing hades” good morning sexy~

Diablo: you girls sleep well?~ “trying not to laugh”

Hades and pain and panic: “tilt their heads” what do you mean?

“They notice their reflection in Ursula and the eels’s tank/movable water, and they see they have makeup on and writing/doodles on their faces”

Hades: oh for the love of…”glowing red”

Pain and panic: oh our gods… “eyes change”

Hades: JAFAR!!! GASTON!!! “Flares up”

Both imps: IAGO!!! LEFOU!!! “Follow their boss/’dad’ “

“Later outside shows Jafar and Gaston running from a red flamed Hades, and Iago and Lefou and running from two shapeshifted into beasts imps”

Jafar, Gaston, Iago and Lefou: WORTH IT XD

“Inside watching the chase”

Faciler: should we tell them me and Shadow took photos of Hades and the imps and posted it online?

Hook: who’s computer did ya use?

Shadow: “as he records the chase going on outside” cruella’s and Horus and Jaspers’s too

Mr. smee: I guess it’s good they’re out of town then….

Yzma: me and Kronk made popcorn who wants!~

Scar: and the other villains and henchmen are placing bets: are they going to escape the wrath of the lord of the underworld and the embodiments of pain and panic? or will Hades and the imps give up?

“All the villains and henchmen inside are eating popcorn and watching the chase go on”

#disney villains #disney henchmen #im a dork #and bored

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believe-that-you-can-my-friend · 4 years

Photo

Elisabeth & Noah in the origin world (2/?)

First date

He is not sure if he should text her or not.

On Monday, upon waking up with every ounce of alcohol finally off his bloodstream and after he has spent the entire Sunday recovering from the worst hangover he’s experienced since his college years, Noah is back on his reserved nature, the timid one, the one lacking the amount of whiskey-infused courage it takes for him to deal with matters revolving around human interaction, especially with women. He’s not a social outcast per se, but his confidence mostly accompanies him in the career-oriented side of his life.

It’s not like he’s not interested. He crossed the line of “interested” when he stooped to the lowest level possible, looking her up on Instagram, of all things, via Agnes’ account.

(His little sister has a long list of questions and he has a long list of brotherly favors that he promised to fulfill in exchange for her seven-digit password.)

She doesn’t have a vast presence on social media, a quality they apparently share. He keeps a long forgotten Facebook account and a professional LinkedIn one and acts blissfully ignorant towards any other platform that isn’t YouTube. Her Facebook account - oh yeah, he checked that one too - is a mix between personal and business, opinion posts about socio-politcal matters on the grounds of their country to the entirety of Europe to the endlessness of the globe and take-action events in regard to the causes she supports, occasionally interrupted by a reunion selfie with an old friend or a brunch date with her mom and her sister. That particular post redirected to some Instagram link, so, unwittingly, his curiosity was peaked.

Her Instagram account is colourful, vivid, filled with adventures and laughter. Just from an idle scroll, Elisabeth Doppler - Winden born, age twenty-four, Energy Engineer, Berlin based - can easily be perceived as someone that quite enjoys life. Her group of associates and friends seems endless and her gallery consists of photos of dinners with young professionals, pub-crawling with girlfriends, road tripping across Europe, Erasmus Programme memories, tree-planting projects, women’s rights marches, snorkelling, paragliding. Noah spends the whole Sunday afternoon feeling overwhelmed and in awe, tapping picture after picture, mesmerized by her lovely smile that adds a softer undertone to her busy bee of a life.

He finds it fascinating, her mindset and her lifestyle, but, at the same time, he fears that their personalities may clash, his more keeping-to-himself attitude the polar opposite to her seemingly outgoing one. Then, it’s also the age barrier. He thinks that thirty-two might be a little off-putting for someone in their early twenties, a decade that comes with a whole other set of expectations and milestones than the one he is currently in. The major problem, though - a chronic problem of his - is that he’s thinking too much.

Fortunately, that’s not a thing they have in common.

Elisabeth texts him on Monday morning, at 9.54 to be exact. He’s in the middle of a lecture, teaching History of Religion 101 to an auditorium filled with sleepy freshmen, when his phone screen lights up, its glow illuminating in the dimly lit room. It’s a simple “good morning” paired up with a smiling face emoji but it’s enough to cause his heart to race and his mind to short-circuit, leaving him reciting things off the projection screen without really registering what comes out of his mouth until the lesson is over. With sweaty hands and in the mist of internal panic laced with excitement, he texts her back at 10.38 an equally casual “hey, hope you’re having a good morning, too”. He beats himself up for not asking her anything the minute he presses send, like, how she’s doing, if she’s at work - literally anything, Noah, Jesus Christ, now she’ll think that you don’t care, nice work, you idiot - especially as the hours pass and there’s silence from her end. He spends the rest of the day drowning in miserable self-pity, checking his dead phone literally every minute, until there’s a new message from her, telling him that she had a very busy day at work and asking him how his day was.

(Thank God, because he was about to send her an embarrassing word vomit apologizing for having zero social skills whatsoever.)

They continue their back and forth texting for the rest of the week, casual conversations about their everyday lives turning into debates about the best places to eat and the best movies of all time to metaphysics and social justice that keep them up till the small hours of morning, Elisabeth sending him blowing-a-kiss face emoji’s for goodnight and Noah smiling like a silly teenager at his phone screen. Right in the middle of one of their more “serious” conversations, Elisabeth venting about income-based discrimination, Noah asks her out. It’s abrupt and totally irrelevant to the context of the rest of the bubbles that litter their personal chat at that moment but he can’t really help himself. She is a woman he wants - needs - to know more about, not through a screen, but in person, sit there and watch her express all the things she has in her brilliant mind.

They arrange to meet on Friday night, after she finishes work, since Noah has to attend a seminar in Dresden on the weekend and since both of them are too impatient to wait any longer. Noah arrives first at the bar she gave him directions to and decides on waiting for her outside but decides against smoking a cigarette, even though he’s itching to, out of habit and nerves. She rounds the corner barely five minutes later, strutting towards him in an electric blue pantsuit and a plaid maxi grey coat, her whole face brightening with a stunning smile when she notices him, and, just like that, everything else fades, his anxiety about their first official date, his mental fatigue after holding office hours, his insecurities, his worries and she is the only thing that exists, the only thing that matters.

A wave of panic washes over him momentarily, his inner perfectionist making a huge deal out of not having a clear plan of how to greet her. A handshake is too impersonal, a kiss too presumptuous. Ultimately, he attempts an awkward, one-arm kinda hug - which is ridiculous because a) he’s a freaking grown-up and b) her tongue has already been inside his mouth and he doesn’t recall his hands being particularly respectful the night of Jonas’ wedding, when she pushed him against a wall and stole his breath with a glorious kiss - an action she probably misconstrues as a leaning in and this results in them doing a clumsy dance right there on the pavement, but she giggles and her eyes shine with amusement, so his self-deprecating frown gives its place to a handsome smirk, when she moves closer to him and leaves a soft peck on his cheek, as a belated greeting. She smells of sensuous jasmine and intoxicating amber, her perfume aery but with a spicy twist that succeeds in stimulating all of his senses. He holds the door for her to enter and his hand lingers lightly on the small of her waist, as they make their way through the tables to the bar.

They settle on two empty barstools and order their signature drinks, Gin and Tonic and Whiskey on the Rocks. Elisabeth takes her phone out of her tote bag but before she gets to type anything, Noah holds her attention. He thinks for a moment and then makes his hands move, forming tentative gestures that lack any grace or flow but succeed in signing “It’s nice to see you. How have you been?”.

Elisabeth beams, impressed, her lips mouthing an excited “how?”. He just shrugs and shyly pulls out of his messenger bag a thick sign language book, a recent purchase of his which he’s been studying with every chance he got. Her whole face softens, touched by his sweet gesture, before she types on her phone.

That’s very thoughtful of you, thank you. Even though you shouldn’t have; apart from technology’s assistance, I’m pretty good at reading lips.

He uses his phone to reply. Yeah, I gathered that much. I just want to talk to you in your language.

The look that she gives him under her fluttering eyelashes is so tender and lovely that he can’t help but stare, a foolish grin plastered on his lips and a hot blush painted on his neck, creeping from the collar of his grey shirt.

They talk - type, to be exact, with the occasional mimic of a word or two - about everything and nothing, fast thumbs trying to keep up with their effortless conversation on the notifications’ section of their phones. He learns about her childhood in Winden, her hellish pranks to her older sister Franziska, her loving parents that separated when she was a preteen but never stopped caring about each other or being there for their daughters. She talks about her hometown friends and her honor roll high school experience, moving to Berlin to attend university and falling in love with the lively vibe of the city, getting her Master’s in Energy Engineering and recently landing her first job on the field at the Tiedemann Enterprises, a very prestige corporation in the industry of renewable energy. She’s still particularly excited about this, being part of a team of researchers thriving to improve energy efficiency based on an environmental friendly strategy.

Noah tells her about his memories as a young boy in Vechta, how he lost his mother when he was only six, due to complications while giving birth to his sister, how his father was never really in the picture after that tragic incident. How the local church and especially Sic Mundus, a church based organization for neglected children and troubled teens, contributed to his and Agnes’ well-being and education, helping him land a university scholarship and get a job, so he could afford moving his sister to Berlin, too, after he got his bachelor degree, and offering her a more stable living situation and a normal life. How, apparently, his aptitude for the humanities and his upbringing in a religious environment drove him to follow an academic career in religious studies, a field that he finds beyond interesting, especially its anthropology aspect.

Somewhere along the conversation, too absorbed into their own little world to register the fewer people in the bar and the clock ticking towards closing time, his hand, as if it has a mind of its own, slides slowly over the wooden top of the bar, her slender fingers meeting his hesitant approach halfway. They’re barely touching but it’s electrifying, the feeling of even an inch of his skin against her skin so exhilarating and powerful, like the impact of meteors colliding or the universe exploding into pieces. It feels like a Déjà vu, like a glitch in the Matrix, like they know each other from the past or recognize each other from their future. It’s a feeling both of them kept seeking, a feeling that they silently vow never to lose.

Noah pays for the drinks, despite her objections, and Elisabeth insists that, next time, the bill is on her. He smirks, a tad tipsy on the whiskey, a lot tipsy on her, and teases her that he must have done something right, because this is the first time a girl agrees on a second date with him this fast. She just shrugs, a cheeky smirk playing on her lip-glossed lips, as she types, if I left it up to you, we’d still be on the PG-13 “good morning” texts. He laughs, an effortless, loud laugh and he catches her staring - no, not staring, checking him out - the corner of her longing smile trapped between her teeth. He fights the insane urge to kiss her senseless right here in this empty bar with the bartender mentally plotting their death for keeping him past his shift.

He accompanies her to the U-Bahn station and his heart skips a heartbeat at the prospect of sharing ten more minutes with her, according to the information display over their heads. She wishes him to have fun in Dresden and he confesses that he wishes he could stay here, to spend the weekend with you, he wants to add but refrains, in fear of confessing too much too fast. Instead, he tells her that he had an amazing night and he’s so relieved and purely happy when she nods vigorously in agreement, her low ponytail bobbing lightly and her beautiful face radiating even under the harsh fluorescent light of the station. The atmosphere around them is suddenly very charged, their bodies gravitating towards each other, and their eyes engage in a stare off that speaks volumes and holds so much unresolved tension. He can hear the bright yellow train approaching and his breath quickens as he takes a brave step forward, invades her personal space, and his eyes declare defeat, falling to her lips. He’s the one to kiss her this time, a soft peck that turns into a needy battle of dominance when she melts into his arms and angles her face to kiss him more, deeper, hungry mouths dancing together in passion, his shoulders hunching over her smaller figure, his hands cradling her cheeks. Her own hands sneak under his coat and suit jacket, delivering a heavy caress over the material of his shirt before she closes her arms around his waist, Noah letting a trembling exhale into the kiss and his lips forming a lazy smirk against her giggling ones. Smugly, Elisabeth tugs lightly at his lower lip with her teeth, a naughty essence to the playful action, and this fuels another round of heated kissing, their bodies pushing and pulling, their heavy PDA a thing they’ll be embarrassed for in the morning. For tonight, though, they’re just two people getting drunk on each other in the middle of a train station, as if tomorrow will be the end of world and they’ll cease to exist.

When they pull back for air her lips are lipgloss-free and her eyelids, still closed, are fluttering over scarlet cheekbones. Noah has never witnessed a most beautiful sight in his life.

Elisabeth gets on the train with a dazed and dazzling smile, promising to text him when she arrives at her apartment. They refuse to let go of each other’s eyes until the train vanishes into the dark tunnel and Noah is left there, on the empty station, a finger reaching to his lips, not quite believing that the fruity taste of lipgloss that still lingers in his mouth or the woman whose lips left their trace behind are real and not a product of his wildest fantasies. There’s an extra hop in his steps as he walks up the stairs to catch the train to the opposite direction, boarding the vehicle at the last minute and sliding quickly on a seat, lovesick smile intact and a newfound feeling of contentment and thrill nested in his chest.

He takes his phone out of his pocket and types, unable to wait any longer.

I get back early on Sunday. Would you like to have dinner with me?

#dark netflix #noah x elisabeth #elisabeth x noah #elisabeth doppler #hanno tauber #noah #noah dark #noabeth #noahbeth #this turned out huge #but i have way too many feels to control myself #myedits #ogparadise

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kulaykape · 4 years

Text

Ina Kingsley x MC

Left Turns & Parallel Parking

A lil' one shot while I take a break from writing my mini-series. I wanted to get Lilian involved a little bit, but I'm still fleshing out her character, so I don't know what I'm going for with her yet.

I went along with @jenxespinoza's idea of Lilian being a neurosurgeon, which is briefly alluded to. And imma tag @sakaily bc they asked 😂😂 enjoy!

•••

"I'm really happy you came with Ina to see us, Ali," Lilian said as she and Aliyah walked to the parking lot, "Charlotte's been wanting to see Leon again for a while."

Aliyah smiled brightly. This was so domestic that it was disgusting… and she loved it. "No prob. Charlotte'll be a good big sister if you ever have another kid, by the way. Leon already likes her more than me," she replied. Which, ouch. But understandable, given Aliyah was 17 years older than him.

Lilian chuckled. "I'm sure he knows there's no replacing the person that raised him," she consoled, "I can't imagine how hard it was to, though. I had Charlotte my junior year of college, but you were 19 when you got custody of him?"

A frown ticked at Aliyah's lips, but she played it off and nodded. "Yeah. It was a whole… thing," she chuckled weakly.

'A whole thing' meaning dear ol' mom and her new man had damn near assaulted Aliyah after the trial. A quick follow-up for a restraining order was subsequent.

As Aliyah was starting to realize how wild her life was, 'cause holy shit, she and Lilian got to the parking lot. Ina had said she'd load the kids into Aliyah's car while the two of them finished cleaning up in Lilian's apartment.

"So where are we headed?" Aliyah asked.

Lilian hummed, a mannerism that Ina also had before answering any question. "Wherever the kids want to eat, I guess," she answered, "Thank god you drove here. I'm not partial to taking the subway with this many people in our group."

"Hm? Oh, no, Ina drove," Aliyah said as she pushed the metal door open with a loud squeal, "I don't usually let people drive Alicia around, but I consider it a stepping stone in a relationship." She smiled amusedly.

Ina had been curious as to why Aliyah's car was named after another woman, and since Aliyah gave her explanation, has developed an unreasonable jealousy of Alicia Keys.

Lilian stopped in her tracks while Aliyah continued walking towards her black sedan, engine already rumbling quietly a few yards away. "Wait, what?"

Aliyah turned to look back at Lilian, hands stuffed in her pockets. "What?" She asked, equally confused.

"You let- hold on," Lilian stalked towards the car and nearly had a stroke when she found none other than big sister dearest behind the wheel. Lilian knocked on the window of the passenger side and Ina lowered it as she began to sweat.

Lilian leaned through the now open window, and in her mom voice, said plainly, "No."

"Lil-"

"No, Ina. Not in a million years."

Aliyah shot a questioning look to Charlotte, who was sitting in the back with Leon. The seven year-old shrugged. "Uh… you want me to drive?"

"Yes."

"No. I drove here, I can drive us to the restaurant."

"We're getting McDonald's!" Charlotte called.

Ina looked into the backseat, frowning. "Are you sure? I was hoping we could get something a little more filling," she said, "What about you, Leon?"

"McDonald's," the five year-old proclaimed.

"McDonald's, Olive Garden, or Gordon Ramsey's restaurant, you are not driving us there," Lilian cut in. Aliyah opened her mouth to try and defend Ina, but Lilian's wrath was actually unnerving her.

"It's fine, Lilian," Ina insisted, the stubborn ass.

Lilian looked back at Aliyah, wordlessly begging her to take her side.

Aliyah, with her mouth hung open like a fish, was speechless. Should she side with Lilian and just drive to McDonald's, and then risk her girlfriend getting upset at her? Or should she side with Ina and then feel the wrath of a very protective mother?

"Uh…"

Unfortunately, decisiveness isn't one of Aliyah's strengths.

"Lilian, the last time you were in a car with me was years ago," Ina said, "I can drive just fine now."

Lilian let out a groan as she (very) reluctantly started to open the passenger door. "We're all going to die."

"Ah," Ina stopped her, a shadow of a smirk on her face and her finger held up, "You should sit in the back with the kids."

The younger sister's jaw dropped as Aliyah wheezed behind her. "You are the pettiest person I know, Ina Kingsley!" She exclaimed as she moved to the back seat instead, looking at Aliyah, "Make sure she doesn't get us all killed, please."

"Was she really that bad?" Aliyah asked, "I mean, she got us here just fine."

Lilian shuddered as a memory rolled over her, and she shook her head. "I'll tell you in the car," she replied, "Oh lord…"

Aliyah shrugged, before reopening the passenger door and smiling at Ina as she climbed in. "Hey, babe," she greeted, leaning forward to peck the Professor's cheek. Charlotte and Leon gagged dramatically. "Don't kill us all, okay?" Aliyah asked, patting Ina's cheek sardonically.

"I'll try my best," Ina replied with a chuckle as she switched gears and started pulling out of the parking garage, Lilian watching her like a hawk the entire way through. Ina glanced up at the rear view mirror, and stuck her tongue out at her little sister.

The car was quiet for a few moments on the road, save for the good-natured bickering between Charlotte and Leon (they were gonna be a trip when they were older, all the adults could tell). Lilian was silently trying to not have a heart attack in the backseat, and also not to think about Ina's nightmarish track record.

Traffic had begun to build up (it was New York, duh) and Ina slowly rolled to a stop behind the car in front of her. Lilian flinched nonetheless. "Ina!"

Aliyah tried not to snort as an exasperated look passed over Ina's face. "You're fine," she replied flippantly.

"Hm, funny, I remember you saying those exact words after you'd rammed mom's sedan into a light post," Lilian retorted, "And might I remind you, I was very much not fine."

This time, Aliyah couldn't help but guffaw. "You crashed into a light post?" Ina's face flushed red, and she kept her eyes stubbornly on the road.

"It was horrible," Lilian said. Ina's eyes met hers in the rear view mirror, silently begging her 'no'. Lilian smirked evilly. "And the worst part was, there was absolutely no reason for her to crash."

"Lilian-"

"It was like that one scene from Bob's Burgers where Tina slowly crashes into another car."

Aliyah guffawed once again, leaning her head on the dashboard while Ina seethed silently. Aliyah's shoulders shook as she sat upright once again, giving Ina the most shit-eating grin she had ever seen on her (which was saying a lot).

"You know, just 'cause you're a lesbian doesn't mean you have to try and embody every stereotype," Aliyah quipped, causing Lilian to snicker while Ina let out a sigh, "Also, that is the lamest stereotype you could've chosen."

"Wait, aunt Ina's lame?" Charlotte piped up. Ina made a sound like she was in pain.

Aliyah turned back in her seat, nodded, and mouthed 'yes' at the littlest Kingsley.

Something not unlike a low growl left the Professor's body as the light turned green and she realized she was babysitting children. She ignored both of the younger "adult" women in the car while they high-fived, and drove on.

With a flick of her wrist, Ina turned the left signal on and merged into the turning lane. She blew a shaky breath out of her lips that didn't go unnoticed by neither her sister nor girlfriend. Both looked suspiciously at her.

"What is it?" Lilian asked, voice shrouded in sweetness but actually lowkey very threatening.

Ina's eyes flicked to both of them for a moment then back to the road. "I… may not be particularly deft when it comes to left turns," she admitted.

"What, we didn't make any left turns on the way to her apartment?" Aliyah asked. Ina shook her head. Aliyah sighed. "Well, just make sure you turn the wheel in the right direction. Right meaning left. You know what I mean."

"Thank you, Ali," Ina said dryly.

"Of course, babe."

Leon squeezed his nose so his voice sounded nasally and high-pitched. "Of course, babe."

Aliyah threw her head back and laughed just as Ina started to make the turn, and doink.

"Ow! Jesus Christ, Ina!" Aliyah cradled the right side of her head after it bounced off the window from the sharpness of Ina's turn. Ina winced harshly while Leon started to snicker (Charlotte had the compassion to try and not to).

"Shit! I'm so sorry Ali, are you okay?" Ina reached a hand out to squeeze Aliyah's knee, but Aliyah scrambled to take it off and put it back on the wheel.

"Both hands on the wheel!" She exclaimed sternly. Ina shrank away sheepishly while Aliyah continued to rub her head.

"Good job Ina, you almost gave your girlfriend a concussion," Lilian quipped.

"You're next, Lilian Kingsley," was Ina's immediate reply. And Lilian knew damn well that her big sister didn't play around, so she stifled a very smart reply.

---

"Can we play music?" Charlotte asked once they were halfway to wherever the hell they were going, 'cause Aliyah was pretty sure they'd passed three different McDonald's by now.

"Sure, kiddo," Aliyah said as she grabbed the aux cord, "What do you want me to play?"

"Taylor Swift!" She exclaimed. Aliyah nodded (albeit a little reluctantly) and started to scroll through the infinite songs in her playlist.

"No, Eminem!" Leon said.

Aliyah threw her little brother a look as Ina and Lilian started to laugh. "The heck do you mean Eminem?" She demanded. The little boy shrank away sheepishly. Aliyah put on her stern voice. Not quite as good as Lilian's, but it'd do. "Leon, what've you been listening to?"

"Uh… Eminem?" Aliyah huffed before turning around and continuing to look for Taylor Swift on her playlist.

"What's your favorite song by Eminem, Leon?" Ina asked. Aliyah gave her an unappreciative look.

"Real Slim Shady!"

"Oh god," Lilian covered her face as she started to shake with laughter.

Leon and Charlotte started to chant the chorus to Real Slim Shady- and Aliyah was praying that was all they knew- while Aliyah scrolled furiously through her playlist. Ina tapped Aliyah's arm before she could get to the Tay-Tay portion of her playlist.

"Play Queen," Ina asked quietly.

"The kids aren't gonna like Queen," Aliyah replied.

"They need to learn culture," Ina retorted.

"If you want them to learn culture, then why are you asking for Queen?" Lilian said. Ina gasped as if her sister had just twisted a knife in her side. Aliyah nodded in agreement.

"You too?" Ina said, incredulous, "But you're a musician!"

"And you're an anthropologist," Aliyah said, unblinking, while Lilian laughed at her sister's expense. "You can talk about bones, and Neanderthals, and old sticks all you want, but I don't think music is your strong suit," she added with a smirk.

"Old sticks?" Ina repeated, this close to giving up on life, "What is it that you think my career entails again?"

"Old sticks," Aliyah said once again without missing a beat, "Like the ones at the museum you showed us."

"Those were the remnants of spears from the Middle Paleolithic era!" Ina exclaimed defensively. Aliyah tried not to let a guilty smile sneak onto her face, because the nerd in her had thoroughly enjoyed the impromptu date at the museum. But harassing Ina was still her favorite past time.

"You know, as far as I'm concerned, Lilian's the only real doctor in this car," Aliyah said, and Ina practically vibrated with irritation.

"Aw, that's very sweet of you, Ali," Lilian said. She was very familiar with the 'harass Ina until she pops a blood vessel' game, and she and Aliyah did a mental fist bump.

"But I thought aunt Ina's a doctor too," Charlotte said, thoroughly confused and have since forgotten about her music.

"I am a doctor," Ina huffed grumpily.

“A doctor of old sticks,” Lilian said. Ina pursed her lips and stayed very silent.

Aliyah squeezed Ina's arm as she started to shake with laughter. "Babe, we're just joking," she said. Ina threw her an unreadable look, before giving the brake pedal momentary a push. Aliyah jerked forward with a yelp while Lilian nearly screeched. The kids laughed, enjoying the rollercoaster simulation.

"Ina!" Lilian snapped.

"That's what you two get," she said simply, with the biggest, winningest smirk on her face as she drove on. The two of them grumbled nervously as Ina continued her drive down the highway, mentally brushing off her shoulders.

"Are we at McDonald's yeeeet?" Charlotte asked, "I'm hungry. I want nuggies."

"Nuggies won't fill you up," Ina replied, and Aliyah couldn't help but snort at Ina using the word 'nuggies'. "We're going to a restaurant on Fifth."

"…do they have nuggies?"

Ina sighed. "Charlotte, don't you want to eat something a little more… fulfilling than chicken nuggets?" She asked, "And what if Leon doesn't-"

"I want nuggies too," Leon chimed.

"Yeah, me too," Aliyah said. Ina glared at her and she began to snicker. "Okay, okay, just get us there, Professor." While the kids groaned in disappointment Ina switched gears into sixth and sped down the highway.

Eventually, they got onto Fifth Street, and back into the heavy congestion of the main roads. It was times like this that Aliyah missed growing up further down south, where you could actually drive instead of just starting and stopping every second.

Ina started to slow down by the sidewalk, next to a building with its name written in big, cursive, neon letters. Charlotte gasped dramatically. "I know this place! They have a chocolate fountain!" At that revelation, Leon started to grin as well. Ina smiled privately to herself as she rolled to a stop next to a parking spot.

Aliyah looked at her. "You know you have to park in the spot, right?" She quipped. Ina nodded.

"Yes, I'm aware," she let out a sigh and Aliyah's stomach dropped.

"...You can't parallel park either, can you?"

"How hard can it be?"

"Extremely, actually," Lilian interjected, "Aliyah, maybe you should-" Aliyah had already moved to open her door, but Ina stopped her.

"Stay in the car, I can do this," Ina said, the determination and pride riding on all of this in her voice. Aliyah found it ridiculous, and it showed in her face.

"Ina, if you dent my car," Aliyah switched to Spanish so that the kids couldn't understand, "No sex for a month." Lilian guffawed as Ina winced.

Charlotte cocked a brow in hilarious Kingsley fashion. "What'd she say, mama?" She turned to Lilian.

"Erm… she said that she won't let aunt Ina drive again," Lilian said, still snickering.

Ina breathed out a slow breath, trying her best to ignore Aliyah's steel gaze on her as she switched into reverse. There was a significant amount of room for her to work with between the two cars, but she didn't exactly have a driving record that inspired confidence.

She made damn sure that her glasses weren't going to fall off her face as she slowly started to back in, hands clenching the wheel tightly.

"Aunt Ina, are you okay?" Charlotte asked, causing Ina to jolt, "You look… uh… constipated." Aliyah once again found herself leaning her head against the dashboard while Ina's face flushed red.

"I'm fine, Charlotte," she said patiently, before refocusing on the parking spot. After a few more tense moments of an anxiety-ridden Ina and some death-staring from Lilian, the car was sitting nearly in the parking spot.

Ina took the key out of the ignition with a triumphant smile while Leon and Charlotte whooped (about the food, of course). "Wow. We're alive," Lilian said, grinning as she patted Ina's shoulder, "Aside from nearly giving Aliyah a concussion, not bad, sis." And in spite of the ever-apparent snark, Ina could hear a hint of pride in Lilian's voice. "I'll go take the kids inside," she added with a wink, before starting to load the kids out.

Aliyah chuckled as she watched Charlotte and Leon Naruto-run into the restaurant, Lilian trailing behind them. She reached over and squeezed Ina's hand, and the Professor turned to look at her just in time to catch a cheeky kiss squarely on her jaw.

"Ah!" She yelped with a chuckle, "I take it your ultimatum has been null and voided?"

"Honestly, I probably wouldn't have been able to uphold it," Aliyah said as she kissed Ina's nose, watching in amusement as it scrunched up, "But just so you know, I am driving us home."

Ina deflated in relief. "Thank god. I think I lost five years of my life just from this drive," she said. Aliyah chuckled as she squeezed Ina's thigh sympathetically. "Is your head okay? I'm so sorry about that…"

"It's fine," Aliyah said, rubbing her head subconsciously, "But you need to slow the hell down on those turns."

Ina nodded. "Noted for the next time I drive. Which will be in another few years," she smiled as Aliyah laughed, and leaned forward to catch her lips in a gentle kiss. "I'm sorry for being stubborn," she murmured against Aliyah's mouth, "I had to prove a point to Lilian."

Aliyah rolled her eyes as she tugged on Ina's lip playfully. "You're stubbornness almost earned me a concussion, but we're not gonna talk about that," Aliyah said as she gave Ina one more enthusiastic kiss on the lips, "Now c'mon. You drove us all the way here, let's go eat." Ina smiled as she got out of the car, and the two of them walked towards the restaurant, hand in hand.

~end~

#ina kingsley #professor kingsley #queen b #ina x mc

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emmy-writes-sometimes · 4 years

Text

Projectiles

You absolutely terrorize your dad, Sebastian, and you don’t feel bad about it at all.

“Why are you home so early?” Your dad was about to eat a sandwich and raised it to his lips before stopping, realizing that it was barely noon and you were home already. He put the sandwich down an looked at you like you had two heads.

“Nurse told me I could go home,” you shrugged. You held a bag from the drugstore down the street, backpack on your back.

“And why?” You looked at him, holding the bag up. “Oh.” You could tell he didn’t fully get it, but you didn’t need to say anything else. He was slow, but he could figure it out eventually.

“Yep. I’m going to take some pain pills.” You walked up the stairs to your room and set up your cave for the afternoon. You must have gone through half a season of Schitt’s Creek before you dared to even went downstairs to get your backpack to start doing homework. Your dad was putting his jacket on, obviously about to leave.

“You want anything specific for dinner?” He asked you, looking you up and down. You looked like a wreck, but your entire body hurt so badly that you just didn’t care.

“Death,” you responded dryly, walking past him to go to the kitchen. You grabbed a box of cheese-its, not even that you really wanted them. You just wanted food in general.

“Okay,” your dad said quietly, taken aback at your statement. “Well, text me if you need anything. I won’t be late.” He walked out to go to his meeting, leaving you all alone. You needed a dog, you thought. You really needed a dog. So you scrolled through your phone and spammed your dad with pictures of puppies in the greater Manhattan area, all of which he said no to. You knew exactly why you were crying over pictures of pitbull mixes, but that didn’t make it any easier.

You thought you were going to throw up when you smelled the smell of pizza down the stairs right as your dad walked back in the house a few hours later. You loved pizza, normally, but now it was just reminding you of the acne on your face and the fact that you were totally and completely nauseated.

“How much do you want?” He asked you as you walked into the kitchen.

“None,” you replied. “I’ll have some tomorrow.”

“You told me last week that you would literally die for Luigi’s pizza.”

“I feel like I’m going to throw up.”

“Do you have a fever?” You glared at him, again. He nodded in understanding. Truth be told, he was still having a tough time being a single dad to a teenage daughter. He had to deal with a numerous amount of things that he didn’t think he would have to deal with. Periods was one of them. You’d had it for a few years now, but yours was different. You gave him a heart attack at fourteen when you said it was so bad that the doctor wanted to put you on birth control, and two years later you were still struggling with the fact that it was completely random if you even had it at all. And this was the first time in a couple months, so of course it had come back full force.

“I’m eating saltines, I guess,” you sighed. That was the only thing you could think of that wouldn’t screw with your stomach.

“Honey,” your dad said back, turning from his chair to look at you.

“Do you want to clean up my throw up?” He didn’t answer you, which you took as a hard no. “That’s what I thought. I’m taking the couch.” You walked into the next room and curled up on the couch, pulling your favorite fuzzy blanket over you. You turned on Bones and ate the absolutely pathetic sleeve of crackers that was your dinner.

“Honey?” You heard after four episodes. Your phone told you that it was almost 1 in the morning, and your dad had gone to bed hours ago. Or so you thought.

“Don’t call me that if there isn’t a sentence attached to it!” You said. He sighed from the stairwell and walked into the living room, rubbing his eyes at the bright TV you had playing.

“You should go to bed. Especially if you’re tired.” You sighed and got up, letting him walk you back to your room. You finally settled in, turning your own TV on so you could sleep to it, and fell asleep.

You woke up four hours later to the feeling that something was wrong. Very wrong. And indeed it was; your bed looked like an absolute massacre. You’d fallen asleep with the wrong kind of tampon in. Again. Your blue-gray sheets were stained already, your favorite sleep shorts were stained, and you almost started crying as you walked into the bathroom. It was so early in the morning that the sun wasn’t even up yet, and there you were, crying and carrying your things all the way to the stupid basement. You tried to get the stain out of your mattress pad, but there was no changing it, so you gave up. You put everything in the laundry with a high soil level setting and set an alarm to get back up later to deal with it. And then you fell asleep on your couch again, still crying, and in absolute misery.

“Y/n?” You heard your name the next morning and woke up, rising from the makeshift bed you made out of your couch. Your dad was obviously ready to get started with his day. You’d missed your alarm again because your fucking phone was dead.

“What?” You groaned, about to start crying again. Your dad held his hands up in surrender.

“I was going to ask if you wanted to come take a quick walk to get some coffee with me. We’re out. And it looks like you need it.”

“Will you buy me a chocolate croissant?”

“Of course. I’ll be downstairs.” You changed your clothes and went to put everything in the dryer, making a mental note to ask your dad if you could use his card later to order more sheets. And then you started walking down to your favorite café, twelve blocks away.

“You didn’t get much sleep last night, did you?” Your dad asked you as he pressed the crosswalk button. He was the only man in Manhattan you knew that would wait for a crosswalk light to turn, but you followed along with him. You stuck your hands in the sweatshirt you’d used to hide the fact that your stomach was twice its normal size.

“No,” you responded. “I need new sheets.” He understood.

“I’m sorry. We’ll get some at Target on the way home.” He gave you a small smile and herded you into the coffee shop. Normally he would try and tell you just to get something small, but he let you get whatever you wanted and he didn’t complain at all. You almost forgot about how terrible everything was when you got home later with a new set of sheets to put on the bed. These were darker ones, so even if they did stain they wouldn’t look too bad. He handed you the dark towels, too. And then you ended up raiding the fridge later. You looked like an absolute hermit with your hood pulled up and the drawstrings tightened up to your neck.

“So you refused the hot, fresh pizza last night and now you’re eating it, cold, right out of the fridge?” Your dad was standing in the kitchen, extremely confused, and about to go to the gym when he saw you with the cardboard box open, grabbing a slice in each hand.

“What about it?” You asked in a slightly threatening voice.

“Nothing. Nothing at all. Just admiring your creativity. I’m about to go to the gym, but I’ll see you later. Tell me if there’s anything you want me to get on the way home.” You nodded, knowing that you were probably scaring the living daylights out of him, and started eating one of the slices of pizza, closing the fridge door with your foot.

You laid out on the couch for a few hours before deciding to take a nap. This time you didn’t wake up to a massacre, but you weren’t exactly in a good mood either. Your dad figured that out when he came back into the house. The light in the hallway wasn’t helping your migraine, so you did what any angry teenager would do. You found your slide sandal on the floor and picked it up and threw it in the general direction as the light.

“Jesus, Christ!” Your dad exclaimed. “Honey, why are you throwing projectiles?”

“I have a migraine! Turn it off!” You whined. He did what you asked, leaving the whole apartment in darkness.

“I got you some of your favorite candy, if you want it,” he said. “I didn’t know what kind of sour patch you wanted so I got three kinds, the watermelon and the normal and then this new one they had, and then I got you some chocolate ‘cause your mom always wanted chocolate, and then we can get some ice cream or something later if you want.” He walked toward you and handed you a bag from the store. You sat up, taking the bag, and felt really bad.

“Thank you.” He backed away from you like you were a dog about to bite. “I’m sorry I’m being a bitch.”

“I get it. I probably would be too if that was happening to me. I think you might need to go back to the doctor, though, if it’s hurting you and you’re blee-” You found the other sandal and threw at him, this time in point blank range. “I’ll go call them and leave a message so they’ll get back to us on Monday. You just, uh… yeah. Please stop throwing things at me.” He walked out of the room and you could hear his footsteps quicken as he walked up the stairs to his room.

A/N: I feel so bad for Seb here, but it had to be done. I hope you like it! A reminder that this will be my last post until the weekend probably, since I’m driving halfway across the country. I’ll be back as soon as I can!

Taglist (if you’d like to be added, send me a message with what all you’d like to be added to!): @an-adventureland, @firstangeldragonranch, @ssebstann, @winterreader-nowwriter

#sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan x daughter!reader #sebastian stan x teen!reader #sebastian stan imagine

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ohpuckthat · 4 years

Text

Guitar... (Frederik Andersen)

this is for @dallasstarscallmeplease, one of my favourite people ❤❤

After a long day at work and dinner out, all I wanted to do was get home and sit with my guitar. When I was younger, if I ever felt stressed, I would grab my guitar and just sit there playing random combinations of chords and it bled into my adulthood. When I got home, I threw my purse down and got changed out of my work outfit and into some sweat pants and one of my boyfriend's t-shirts. I grabbed my guitar from the wall and sat on my bed, closing my eyes and playing whatever came to mind. I sat there for about half an hour noodling before going onto Instagram live, running out of songs to play. I had a decent size following from my friends and knew I would get maybe a hundred people join.

"Hey, guys! I thought I would come on here and play some guitar. If any of you have a song request, please put it in chat." I leaned forwards and read some of the comments. "Black and White by Niall Horan? I love that song. Let me just grab my laptop."

I swung back and grabbed my laptop from the ground beside my bed and turned it on. I quickly googled the chords and set myself up in front of my phone again. I played the intro and hummed along. I read the comments and saw that everyone wanted to hear me sing.

"You guys really don't want to hear me sing." I joked, stopping quickly to laugh. The comments continued to flood in and I gave in. "Fine. But when your ears start bleeding, don't blame me."

I started again and sang along, the comments flooding through with compliments on my voice. I finished the song and leaned forwards again, smiling towards the camera.

“Thank you all for lying to me. Any other songs?” I scrolled back and looked through the comments yet again. “Maddie says Circles by Post Malone! Good song, good song.”

I turned and googled the chords, focusing on the computer screen. What I didn’t notice was a certain goaltender blowing up the comments.

frederikandersen31: SINCE WHEN COULD YOU PLAY GUITAR?

frederikandersen31: I KNEW YOU COULD SING BUT I DIDN’T KNOW YOU COULD PLAY GUITAR

frederikandersen31: I’M COMING OVER RIGHT NOW AND YOU'RE GOING TO TEACH ME

As the song continued, the comments did too. Most of them about Freddie’s comments. When I finished the song, I looked through the comments again and scrolled up to see Freddie’s original comments.

“Jesus Christ. Okay, so I’m assuming Frederik is no longer watching this if he’s driving here. I swear Andersen if you are on your phone and driving, I will hurt you.” I said knowing by the next day, that clip will be all over Twitter and Tumblr. “I can probably do another song before he shows up.”

I chose another random comment and played through. I watched the comments roll in of more requests but stopped when I heard a knock on my front door.

“As much as I would love to keep playing for you all, I think I have a visitor. I promise to do this more often. Thanks, guys! Have a nice night, day, whatever it is.” I turned off the live and set my guitar down. I hopped off my bed and walked out towards the front hall, swinging the door open.

“You did not tell me you could play guitar, and that you were amazing!” He said, walking in past me with his guitar case in the other hand.

“I thought you could tell by the guitar hanging on my wall.”

“I’m always a little busy when we’re in your bedroom. But I will not get distracted now. Teach me.” He said, sitting on the couch and took out his guitar.

“I don’t know if I can teach you. I’m a terrible teacher.”

“Nope. You didn’t tell me you could play so now you’re going to teach me.”

“Baby...”

“Oh come on. This is the least you could do. You stood by while I was struggling.”

“I did not stand by! I was... honestly I was probably taking a nap.” I laughed, sitting on the arm of the couch next to him.

“Go get your guitar. You can at least show me how to play that song you were singing.” He smiled, pushing me off the couch and towards the hall.

“Fine.” I quickly kissed his cheek before running down the hall and into my room. I grabbed my guitar from the bed and made my way back to Fred. I leaned against the wall, watching him move his fingers slowly from chord to chord. I stayed there for a while before he finally noticed me standing there. He nodded me over and I slowly walked over and sat back on the arm of the couch again. “Okay, now teach me that song you were playing.”

“Which one?”

“The one you were playing when I joined the live.” He smiled, looking up at me.

“Babe, I don’t know which one I was playing when you joined. I didn’t even know you joined until I saw everyone else comment.”

“The uh, the one that went, duh duh dah, duh duh dah duh duh dah dah.”

“Okay, here.” I placed my fingers on the proper strings, waiting for Fred to do the same. “Just stay there.” I placed my guitar down and sat beside him. I placed my hand over his and moved his fingers to the right place. “Try now.”

“I was doing the exact same thing you were.” He said, looking down at me.

“No you weren’t. Try now.” I smiled, waiting for him to actually strum. Once he did, his smile doubled.

“That didn’t sound terrible!”

“No, it didn’t. Now, do... this... one...” I said while changing his fingers to the next chord. We continued like this through the whole song and I sat back, waiting for him to play through without my assistance. I cringed slightly every time he messed up but waited for him to play through.

“Okay, that sounded horrible.” He frowned, looked at me with his puppy dog eyes.

“Maybe we should start with some more basic chords and then go from there.” I smiled, kissing his cheek. “We’ll get there.”

“Will you just play me something?” He asked, his puppy dog eyes still in effect.

“Of course.” I smiled, grabbing my guitar from the floor. While I sang to him, he took a sneaky picture of me while I looked down at my hands.

“That was fantastic. How do you want me to pay you for these lessons.”

“Cuddles?”

“That I can do.” He pulled me into his chest and placed his head on my shoulder. “You never cease to amaze me.”

“Says the one who stops pucks coming at him at 90 miles per hour.” I joked. We spent the rest of the night intertwined on the couch.

Needless to say, he was extremely excited about the next lesson.

“BABE WHAT DID YOU JUST POST ON YOUR STORY?!”

“shit.”

#frederik andersen imagines #frederik andersen #Freddie andersen #Freddie andersen imagine #Freddie andersen imagines

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kalypsichor · 4 years

Text

five’s a crowd [ beatles x reader ] part seven

summary: You’re not jealous of the fact that girls on Tinder love George, you’re not. John may or may not be sexually attracted to metaphors. Paul may or may not have a professor kink. Ringo is just vibin’ like always. Gigi Hadid terrorizes your dreams. Oh, and y’all finally get the McLennon sandwhich you asked for.

warnings: 2k words of the usual bullshit, some english major bashing, actually it’s just john bashing ( sorry @spaceyantique ), i love english majors, and miscommunication babey!

i’m writing this draft at 3 am. it’s a new low for me. oh, and the poem mentioned in geo’s tinder is lyrics from ‘for you blue’

“Well, it is a flattering picture.”

You have to agree with Ringo. The two of you are perched on the couch, peeking over George’s shoulder at the Tinder profile. John and Paul are sharing the armchair, snickering at something. Probably another scheme. Bastards…

The photo is the one John had snapped a few days ago of George in the kitchen. He’s got this brilliant smile on his face, just having taken his first warm shower in weeks, and he’s gloriously naked from the belly button up. It’s a little blurry, but it captures George’s happiness—though you privately think that no picture could ever really do the boy justice. Take that, stupid Tinder girls.

“‘George.’” Ringo reads the bio out loud. “‘Twenty-one. Majoring in horticultural science, looking for a girl to put the ‘ho’ into it.’ This is terrible,” he says rather gleefully. George turns around and gives his friend a betrayed look.

“You missed the best bit. ‘I’ve loved you from the moment I saw you. You looked at me, that’s all you had to do.’ What’s that?”

George goes stock still. Slowly, his head turns to John and you swear you can hear it creak like a door hinge.

“You.” The word shakes from his throat with a quiet rage. “You looked through mY DIARY???”

“YOU HAVE A DIARY?” Ringo screeches. Paul has the common sense to look a little frightened, but his boyfriend, who borrows a brain cell from Paul from time to time, does not.

“You write beautiful poetry, George,” John croons, and you have to physically hold George down to keep him from tackling the dumbass. Paul, getting flashbacks to the Shower Debacle, shudders.

You, on the other hand, are trying to wrap your head around the bio. Poetry? About who? That didn’t sound like it was about just anybody. Lucky girl, your mind hisses. Or boy. You immediately try recalling every single time George has brought up a classmate. Your brain sputters a bit and spits out an answer to one of the questions you’d skipped on your first midterm yesterday. Except now it’s fucking useless, isn’t it????

Ringo speaks, bringing you out of your downward spiral into insanity. “Hey, the app says you’ve got a match.”

Frowning, George taps on the notification. “But I haven’t even looked at anyone’s profile.”

“I did you a favor and swiped right a couple o’ times,” John says. George groans—no, the sound does not turn you on a little—and hangs his head forward. By ‘a couple,’ John must’ve meant a couple hundred, because George’s phone is blowing up. The only thing keeping George from hurtling the phone right into John’s smarmy little meerkat grin so hard that he shits pieces of it out for weeks is your hand on him. The warmth of it is radiating out from his shoulder to his chest and sweeping down to his toes. When you take your hand away a few seconds later, thinking it had overstayed its welcome, George has to try very hard not to sigh.

“This one is cute,” Ringo comments. The notification had read ‘Maureen Super Likes You!’ and the phone screen is now showing a pretty brunette, around your age, smiling up at George.

“Yeah, well, I’m not interested.”

He didn’t say she wasn’t cute.

“Wait, wait!” John scrambles out of his armchair, nearly pushing Paul off in the process. George’s thumb pauses where it’s hovering over the ‘delete’ button for the app. “Come on, Geo. You haven’t gone out in years. Like, since high school. Since… since…”

“Pattie,” Ringo says. You and Ringo hadn’t known the other three in high school, but, as always, he was good with names.

Pattie? George has never mentioned a Pattie...

“Yeah, Pattie!” John lights up. You wish people would stop saying her name. “Pattie Boyd. Man, she was a catch… I still remember her blonde hair. And those long legs. She looked like, uh… who’s that model?”

“Bridget Bardot.” Ringo, again.

Paul is mirroring the sour look on your face, though he obviously has a better reason for it.

“No, who the fuck is that? I meant Gigi Hadid. Isn’t that why you dated her?”

“She did not/” George protests. “And no, John, unlike some people, I care about more than just looks.”

At this point, Paul looks as though he’s about to cry. “What’s that supposed to mean? I’m more than looks, aren’t I?”

“I didn’t mean you, obviously.” But George’s words are lost under John, who leaps back into the armchair and coos at his boyfriend.

“Macca, you know I love you for more than your looks. You’ve got that big old brain, and you’re the best artist in this whole school… it’s just a bonus you’re so pretty too.”

Paul seems satisfied by this. Stupid fucking English major. John could get anything his way with just a few words.

“John’s right, y’know.” You and Ringo mouth ‘y’know’ at each other and erupt into giggles. “You’ve got to put yourself out there more. You’re in your third year of uni and you haven’t even dated a single person. There’s only one more year before you’re out in the real world! And the sea will be much, much bigger then.”

George scowls, unimpressed by Paul’s little speech. “People aren’t fish, Paul. And I’m vegetarian, so I don’t condone catching them.”

“It’s a metaphor!” Paul cries, throwing his hands in the air. John nods and makes eyes at him as if metaphors were the sexiest thing in the world. He’s probably into that. English majors.

“You tell ‘em, babe.”

The doorbell rings, banishing any homicidal thoughts from your mind.

“That’ll be the takeout,” you say. George flies so quickly to the door, desperate to get out of the situation, that you feel a little gust of wind. You hear him say something to the delivery person and then he’s coming back into the living room, take out boxes in tow and a big smile on his face. Nothing makes the boy happier than food. And maybe leggy blondes that look like Gigi Hadid, your brain suggests, and you sigh.

For a good ten minutes, the conversation is put on hold. You’re all broke college students, after all, and getting Chinese is like a luxury.

“What’d you get?” you ask through a mouthful of food, looking over George’s shoulder. He’s sat back down on the floor in front of the couch again and he lifts the box up so you can see it.

“Veggies with fried noodles. You?”

“Same.”

“Twinsies,” George says solemnly, and you high five over it.

Unbeknownst to the two of you, John and Paul share an eyeroll.

“I got shrimp fried rice if anyone cares,” Ringo pipes up from next to you. You bump your shoulder into his.

“Of course I care, Ritchie. Wanna trade a shrimp for my broccoli?”

He nods and you both chopstick over the terms of the trade. George’s grin drops a little. John and Paul roll their eyes even harder.

After a while, having devoured their food like it’s the Last Supper, you’ e all pulled out your phones. You scroll through Instagram and send a funny post to the flat’s group chat, and everyone laughs simultaneously. Everyone except George, who… has opened Tinder again. Christ, how does he have so many matches?

Well, why wouldn’t he? He’s cute… and funny… and gives the best advice when you’re down…

And you’ll be sharing all that with some other girl if you don’t do something about it.

“Why do these girls keep asking about my teeth?”

You scoff, trying to ignore the pit in your stomach. George’s sexy vampire teeth are yours and yours alone to appreciate, thankyouverymuch. “Probably have oral fixations, the lot of them.”

John does a whole body shudder and you all turn to stare at him. “Don’t fucking talk to me about Freud. That Psych course tore my GPA into shreds.”

“Right, like you care about your grades so much.” You lean back against the couch. “What was so bad about that class, anyway? I enjoyed it.”

“Professor Pang fucked me.”

“WHAT—”

“Fucked me over! Jesus, I dunno why my mouth just had a seizure there.” John cradles Paul’s face in his hands, trying to smooth away the frown on his face. “Paul, you know I didn’t mean it.”

“That’s a Freudian slip, that is,” you comment, sticking your tongue out when John turns to glare at you. Ringo starts humming Hot For Teacher under his breath. John leans over and smacks him.

“The only teacher I’ve got the hots for is you,” John says, turning back to Paul, and you and George make gagging noises. “Professor McCartney…”

“Professor?” Paul’s Pout (yes, with a capital P) turns into a grin. “I like the sound of that.”

“I think I’ve been bad… shall I serve detention for you?”

“Okay, just go!” You point towards their bedroom. “Please leave the immediate vicinity right fucking now.”

“I’m gonna hurl,” George says. The two horny bastards giggle and scurry off in the direction of your finger, door slamming behind them.

You go to bed that night with a belly full of noodles and a brain full of thoughts that keep you turning and tossing in bed. And when you finally do fall asleep, you dream about Gigi Hadid, cackling as she chases you around with George’s stupid little towel.

***

Your second exam the next day goes miserably.

Okay, maybe you’re being dramatic. It wasn’t that bad—you’d done a fair bit of studying that weekend, invigorated to overcome the Coffee Incident. Still, you couldn’t stop thinking about George the whole time, and him swiping through Tinder, and whoever the hell that Pattie girl is.

Okay, stop it. You can’t hate her for dating the boy you like. Us women have to support each other, the rational part of your brain tells you.

You grumble all the way back to the flat, fighting with the reasonable part of you. Eventually, you give in. Rational You is right. Hating on a chick you don’t know is what makes up eighty percent of Hollywood’s bullshit romcoms. Yes, you are going to be a good person and take the high route.

That all goes away when you open the door.

John and Paul are standing in the kitchen, whispering furiously to each other. You only catch the tail end of what they’re saying—

“-didn’t think he was actually going to do it!”

—before John sees you in the doorway and smacks Paul on the shoulder.

“Heyyy there,” John says. You immediately know something is wrong. You walk shut the door behind you and eye Paul’s smile warily.

“What are you two doing?”

“Erm, we were making a sandwich for you.” Paul gestures exaggeratedly at the plate on the counter, which John holds up at shoves in your direction.

“Yeah, we knew you’d need a little pick me up after the test.”

You look around the flat carefully. It’s awfully quiet. Ringo’s at his twelve o’clock lecture, but you should be able to hear…

“Where’s George?”

This slaps the smile right off of their faces and neither of the boys can put it back on quickly enough for you to not notice.

“He’s doing yoga,” Paul says at the same time John blurts out,

“He went to visit his mum!”

Paul glares at John and you feel something twist in your gut. “Yes, you see...” Paul looks frantically to the ceiling. God won’t help you out of this one. “George went to pick up his mum… and they’re at yoga together!”

You walk into the kitchen, crossing your arms. “Louise lives in Liverpool,” you say slowly.

“Yup,” John says.

“And the yoga studio is ten minutes away from our flat.”

“Yuuup.”

You can’t believe he’s still keeping this up. “And the drive from here to Liverpool is four hours. And George doesn’t have a car.”

“Yuuuuuuuuu—”

“Oh, I can’t take it anymore,” Paul cries, ignoring John’s frantic shushing. “George went on a date with that Maureen girl from Tinder. He’s at the coffee shop now.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

You must’ve said this out loud, because Paul gives you a sympathetic look. After a long moment of silence, John once again offers you the plate.

“Sandwich?” he asks, trying for a smile that comes across more as a grimace.

You take the sandwich and throw it right into the trash, plate and all.

#the beatles x reader #george harrison x reader #mclennon #beatles fanfic #five's a crowd #kalwrites #FUCK I GOTTA GO TO BED

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nerdygaymormon · 4 years

Photo

I'm casually scrolling through Latter Gay Stories and there I am! That was a nice surprise

They took the story I shared with Let’s Love Better, added some of my pictures from Facebook, and shared on their page.

While I’m happy about this, it is emblematic of how once we share something online, it is out of our control. I just wish they’d let me know they were planning to put it up last week. I’ve had the same thing happen to me by LDS-owned websites where they put something of mine on LDSLiving and other sites without giving me any warning.

————————————————————

Hi, I’m David

Looking back, the signs of my orientation were there from the time I was a little boy. For example, I stared at the pictures on the packages of underwear at the store, or there would be boys who I really, really wanted to be friends with, things like that. It wasn’t until puberty when I would have erotic dreams that I figured out that I am sexually and romantically turned on by guys. I denied it for a while, thought I must be defective, perhaps it can change. By age 14 or 15 is when, with great reluctance, I accepted that this is a part of me.

At church it was taught that people are like this because they lack faith, so I tried to be the most faithful person, swatting away any questions or doubts, trying to be the best in class and activities. And every little, minor mistake was crushing because it was making me not good enough for God to fix. That was a stressful way to approach life.

I had a great deal of fear to come out. I continued to try to please God. I served a 2-year mission. I went to the Church schools. While in college is when I really came to terms with this is never changing.

I remained closeted for a long time, much longer than I wanted to. The longer I was in the closet, the harder it seemed to come out because it meant admitting that so much of my life, at least as I presented it, was a lie. Staying in the closet kept my world intact. Much of my family’s life revolves around church. Being a member of this church gives me a social network, a map of life goals, and an identity. Coming out meant I could lose all of it and I had no idea what life would be without those things.

Squashing all my romantic and sexual feelings also shuts down most other feelings. I spent my 20’s & 30’s feeling numb, like I was watching life but not a part of it. I finally reached the point where I was thought, “What’s the point of having a life if I wasn’t going to live?” As I was approaching my 40th birthday, I decided it’s time for a change. It was hard to share the secret I had spent my life guarding, and for a while I was very cautious and only came out one person at a time, no big announcement.

There are many things about The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints that I really like, things that resonate with me. I like that our God isn’t silent, that God answers prayers and is wants to reveal new things to us. That as individuals and as a church, we learn & progress, line upon line, always becoming better. I love the idea that the ultimate goal is for all people to be unified and linked to each other, that it matters how we treat each other because we need each other. Mormons are really good at building community and a sense of belonging. One thing that helps is the idea of all truth being circumscribed into one great whole, including scientific knowledge. Plus, this church taught me a language to understand spiritual things. I’ve learned a lot about being a better person, to serve and to be empathetic. It’s just that where church intersects with how I was made by our Creator, there is tension.

When I was 18 and the bishop spoke to me about going on a mission, I went home and prayed and asked if God could love me, love what I am. It’s really sad that a person can grow up in church and not even know that. I felt waves of love, warmth and goose bumps radiate across my body and a voice say “you are not broken.” That experience sustained me for many years.

Being gay complicates church for me. Questions that have simple answers for others are complex for me. There’s no way for me to complete the covenant path, I can’t achieve the goals that our religion says should be the purpose of my life.

In November 2015 I was serving as the Stake Young Men president when the Policy of Exclusion was leaked. I was so upset by it that I nearly walked away. Only an impression that God had a work for me to do if I was willing to stay kept me in the Church. In January 2016 my calling changed, and this is my 5th year being the stake executive secretary, which means I am in all the highest councils of my stake. This calling also means I get to meet all General Authorities who come here, I’ve interacted with 10 Seventies & apostles. I still get invited to participate in stake youth activities and have spoken to my stake’s youth about being LGBT. I had a blog post go viral and that led to hundreds of LGBTQ+ teens & twenty-somethings who contacted me to ask questions or who were hurting, and I’ve stayed up late into the night many a time trying to keep them safe. I’ve been invited to share my story on several pages and a few podcasts.

All of this is well beyond what I could have imagined in 2015 when I decided to stay. But this isn’t my work forever. I will again have to revisit the decision to stay or leave. Being in this church has caused serious mental health issues, including suicidal moments, that I’ve had to get help for. I want to love and be loved. I’m tired of going to church and then something is said which wounds, which even if the speaker wasn’t meaning to be unkind, those little surprises still sting. I want to be happy.

I have to figure out what a successful life looks like for me, what the purpose of my life is, how God wants me to partner with Him in the work He is doing in the world today.

I think back to how I felt when I prayed to know if God loves me and how that felt. I don’t think God views being gay as incompatible with the gospel. I’m certain the author of diversity has accounted for it in His Plan. I just wish this church could see it that way.

#latter gay stories

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ificanthaveu · 4 years

Text

Hot Chocolate and Other Things That Taste Like Peppermint || Shawn Mendes

Description: It’s finals week, and you’re ready to head home for the holidays to see someone you haven’t seen in months. Shawn will do anything to not let that happen.

Description per my notes (aka a jumbled mess): it’s semester break and I have to tell u how I feel before you go back and see that high school friend you’ll inevitably hook up with

A/N: HAPPY DAY 1 OF FICMAS! I forgot it was day one and didn’t edit this pice until right before I posted it oops. But she cute and she here so ENJOY

Word Count: 3k

12 Days of Ficmas

The incessant pounding on your door made the bells hung on it jingle like crazy. You sighed and finished typing your paragraph. Whoever was there could wait. You took a sip of the peppermint hot chocolate you had treated yourself to and went to answer the door, mug still in hand, hair a mess, still in pajamas, with your glasses pushed down your nose. Happy finals week.

The knocking began again, and you swung the door open, making the bells slam against the wall.

“What?” You said with a little too much anger.

“Where is your Christmas spirit?” Shawn said as he gave you a look.

“It’s on hold until finals week is done, and I’m on my way home for a whole, beautiful, month,” you said, taking another sip and a deep breath.

He glanced down at your mug and then back up to you.

“Peppermint?” He questioned.

You rolled your eyes and nodded your head, “I’m not a complete Scrooge.”

You left the door open and walked back into your room, sitting at your desk and setting the mug down. Shawn found his place on your futon next to you, playing with the lights dangling off your desk.

“What do you want?” You asked, giving him a look.

He stopped playing with the lights and looked back at you before saying, “I need you to proofread my Sociology paper.”

“No,” you said simply.

“Please, [Y/N], I will owe you for the rest of my life, but you know I get, like, a whole letter grade up when you proofread them. I can’t afford to get a bad grade on this,” he begged.

“Shawn, I have my own paper to finish, two in-class exams to study for and a presentation to prep for, which we both know never goes well,” you said as you pulled your feet up onto your chair.

“I’ll help you with your presentation!” He said a little too loudly. “I’m great at public speaking, so you can practice on me, and I’ll give you advice.”

You stared at him as you thought this out. You really did need his help with this presentation. And it probably wouldn’t take any longer than a half-hour to proofread his paper.

“Fine,” you sighed. “I’ll proofread it tonight, but you can’t go doing something else while I’m doing it. You’re sitting with me, and we’re going through it together.”

“You’re literally a lifesaver. Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he repeated.

“Now, no offense, but I have to finish my own paper. So, get the fuck out,” you said as you turned back towards your computer.

You heard him sigh and stand up from his spot before patting you on the shoulder.

“Does 7:00 work?” He asked while looking over your shoulder at what you were writing.

“Yep,” you said, unflinching.

“Well, I guess I’ll just walk myself out,” he said dramatically.

“It’s a dorm room. It’s ten feet,” you said.

“Ouch,” was the last thing you heard before he shut the door behind him.

You glanced at the clock and leaned back in your chair. It was 4:00, which meant you had three hours to finish the last few pages of your paper, proofread it, and eat dinner. Looked like you’d be ordering in.

It was 6:55 when you were finishing up your last slice of pizza and proofreading the hard copy of your paper in front of you, marking things in red pen to fix on your laptop later. You made a few final corrections on the last page before reaching for your computer to fix the mistakes. A knock on your door interrupted you.

“It’s unlocked,” you yelled as you tried to correct your mistakes quickly.

Shawn came walking in with his backpack and sat down next to you on the futon, pulling his legs up into a pretzel and pulling out his laptop.

“I just have a few more corrections, and then I’ll help you. You can have some pizza,” you said through a mouthful.

Shawn shrugged and grabbed a slice, watching you as you did your corrections. You sighed as you corrected one final thing and submitted your paper. You slammed your laptop shut and set it next to you.

“I am one fourth done with finals week,” you said with a smile as Shawn handed you his laptop.

“Ok, cool, now read my paper,” he said, still eating the pizza.

“You didn’t just print it out?” You asked as you glanced at him.

“Why would I do that?” He questioned.

“It’s easier to see mistakes on paper,” you said like he was just supposed to know that.

“It’s a waste of paper,” he rebutted.

“Fine,” you gave in as you started to read his paper. “Shawn, I’m one sentence in, and it’s already a run-on.”

“No, it’s not. There’s a comma,” he said as he pointed at the spot you were talking about.

“Semicolon or comma and a fanboy,” you reminded him.

“A what?” He asked.

“FANBOY - for, and, nor, but, or, yet,” he rattled off as you continued to skim through his first paragraph.

“Huh,” he said as he took his laptop and replaced his comma with a semicolon. “This is why I need you,” he said as he gave you that smile that made your heart flutter.

“Also, your thesis is weak as fuck,” you whispered.

Shawn slammed his head back against your futon and closed his eyes.

“My whole paper is based on that thesis,” he whispered, barely audible. “That’s the point of the thesis.”

“And that’s fine. You just need to tighten it up. It’s way too broad. Just pick specific points that you talk about in your paragraphs and replace the vagueness,” you lectured.

“Alright,” he mumbled before working on fixing his thesis. You took this as your moment to check your phone for the first time in hours.

You had too many facebook notifications and a few snapchats along with a lot of emails. You kept scrolling until a text caught your eyes.

“Shut the fuck up,” he said under your breath as you opened it and stood up.

“What’s up?” Shawn said while glancing up at you and then back down at his computer.

“Hayden texted me,” you said as you gestured to your phone.

“And he is?” Shawn asked as he kept looking at his paper.

“We kind of had a thing in high school? I don’t know how to describe it, I guess. We just flirted a lot and made out every once in a while, but we haven’t talked in months,” you explained as you kept staring at his text.

“What’d he say?”

“When do you come home? I have to see you!” You read out loud.

“Is that his way of asking you on a date?” Shawn scoffed. By then, he had his laptop set to the side, fully invested in what was going on with you and this guy he’d never heard of.

“Probably not…” you said quietly as you trailed off. “It’s just been a while. He wants to catch up.”

“Why now? Why not over Thanksgiving break?” Shawn pointed out.

You shrugged your shoulders and sat back down.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled. “I guess it’s a little weird.”

“I know why,” Shawn said confidently without elaborating.

“And?”

“Well, first, who wouldn’t want to see you? But that’s not the point. Second, you posted that picture last week on Instagram. The one of you and me at my formal,” he explained.

“I forgot about that,” you mumbled, trying not to think too deep into the first part of his statement.

“And third, who doesn’t want a hometown friend to hook up with over Christmas break when your regular college hookups are back at their own homes?” Shawn said.

“Well, you’ve got a point,” you said.

“So are you going to?” Shawn asked hesitantly.

“See him or hook up with him?” You asked.

“Both.”

“I’m going to see him, and I guess I’ll see where things go,” you said with a glint of hope in your voice.

Shawn didn’t say anything, as he handed his laptop back to you.

“Is that better?” He asked.

You skimmed over his new thesis and nodded your head. “Perfect. Much better.”

Hayden was long forgotten as you dove back into Shawn’s paper.

Shawn didn’t forget.

It’s all he thought about for the next week. He tried his hardest to focus on the finals he needed to study for, but he couldn’t go more than fifteen minutes before his mind wandered off to you and whoever Hayden was.

His curiosity got the best of him, and he searched for his Instagram. It was exactly what he expected it to be. Typical frat boy, obnoxious, “I peaked in high school,” energy. He had no idea what you saw in him.

“Who’s that?” Brian said and Shawn nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Jesus Christ, you scared the shit out of me,” Shawn said as he locked his phone and tossed it aside.

“Who was it?” Brian repeated as he motioned to Shawn’s phone.

“No one,” Shawn said quietly.

“Bull shit.”

“Alright, it’s [Y/N]’s hometown friend who wants to ‘see her’ over break,” he explained, putting up quotes.

“What’s the problem with that?” Brian said as he sat down and gave Shawn the look he was dreading.

“He’s disgusting. That’s the problem. [Y/N] deserves better,” he said sternly.

“Why don’t you just tell her?” Brian asked.

“Tell her what?” Shawn replied, playing clueless.

“That you’ve been in love with her since the moment you met her,” Brian stated.

Shawn sighed and rested his head in his hands.

“I was hoping that would just come out naturally, or she’d figure it out on her own. I can’t just walk up to her and go, ‘hey, it’d be cool if you loved me like I love you,’ but it doesn’t happen that way,” Shawn rambled.

“You either tell her and it goes well, you don’t tell her and she hooks up with that dick or you tell her, and it doesn’t go well and she hooks up with him,” Brian said with a shrug.

“That last option is the most terrifying thing I’ve ever heard,” Shawn said slowly.

“But it’s highly unlikely. I’ve seen you two together. You took her to formal. You almost kissed her at formal, but that’s a whole other thing,” Brian said and gave him a look.

“I’m meeting her in her room tonight to help her with her presentation,” Shawn said as he glanced at the clock and stood up. “Actually, I have to get going.”

“Is this the last time you’re seeing her before you go home?” Brian asked as Shawn shoved his things in his backpack.

“Yeah, it is,” he paused. “She has her presentation first thing in the morning, and she leaves right after it. I’m still in my final when she leaves.”

“Then you better make your decision quickly,” Brian asked as he pulled out his laptop to study for his upcoming exam.

“Thanks for the advice,” Shawn mumbled.

“Anytime.”

Shawn stopped at the cafe on the way to your dorm building, grabbing you a peppermint hot chocolate and himself a coffee. He attempted to pull his hat down onto his ears to protect them from the wind, but it was no use.

He kicked your door with his foot a few times since his hands were full. You swung the door open, and he handed you your drink without saying a word.

“Peppermint hot chocolate?” You asked, taking a sip of it.

“Of course,” he said with a smile. “I would’ve gotten you the peppermint mocha, but if you have caffeine now, there’s no way you’ll sleep for your presentation.”

“I’m already not going to sleep, so what’s the point?” you said as you plopped down on your futon, setting the cup on your desk next to you. Shawn sat down next to you, admiring the way the multicolor Christmas lights lit up your face, even if you were frowning.

“You know you’re going to do great. You’ve just gotta practice with me a little bit, and then you’ll be fine,” he said as you faced him.

“Let’s get this done with,” you mumbled as you stood up and grabbed your tablet. You pulled your presentation up on your TV and took a deep breath before starting, trying not to look down at your notes too often.

Shawn barely even looked at your presentation, mostly watching how you talked about it. Since it was a public speaking class, you got to choose whatever topic you wanted. You chose to talk about the service work you had done with disabled kids that past summer.

You finished the presentation and waited for Shawn to say something. He finally snapped out of his daze and clapped his hands a few times.

“That was actually really good,” he said with surprise in his voice.

“Why do you sound so shocked?” You said, slightly offended.

“Well, you stress out for these things, when you actually know what you’re talking about. It’s obvious you’re really passionate about it, and you only glanced down at your notes a few times to say the statistics, which is good. My only note is to slow down. You’re talking a little too fast,” Shawn explained.

“I talk fast when I get nervous,” you reminded him.

“Well then fix it,” he replied.

“It’s not that easy,” you complained.

“Just talk as slow as you possibly think you can. It’ll end up being a normal speed because of how nervous you are,” he said.

You nodded your head and scrolled to the top of your notes and started the presentation over. You started speaking again, first talking about the first time you met with the kids. You couldn’t help but notice how Shawn looked at you.

You finished it once again, and Shawn nodded his head.

“Perfect. Looks like an A+ to me,” he said with a shrug.

You breathed a sigh of relief and said, “Ok, let me do this one slide again.”

You went back to the one you messed up on as your phone vibrated. You had left it on the table, so Shawn glanced down at it. His heart dropped.

“Hayden texted you,” he mumbled, interrupting you halfway through your presentation.

You gave him a look before finishing off the slide.

“You could’ve just waited until I was done,” you said, giving him the same look again.

“Well, I know how you feel about him. Just thought you wanted to know,” he said with no emotion in his voice.

You grabbed your phone off the table and put it in your pocket without looking at the message.

“You’re not going to look at it?” Shawn asked, confusion in his voice.

“Not important right now. Now actually listen to this slide,” you said before starting over.

Shawn crossed his arms over his chest, his loving expression from just minutes ago was replaced by the one you didn’t see very often.

“Ok, what the fuck is your problem?” You asked after you finished your presentation.

“Nothing.”

“Shawn, seriously,” you said as you crossed your arms and looked at him, waiting for him to say something.

“I think Hayden seems like a dick,” he finally said.

“You’ve never met him.”

“Doesn’t matter.”

You ran your hands down your face and rubbed your eyes a few times.

“I don’t think you should see him over break,” Shawn said slowly and quietly.

You walked over to Shawn and sat on the coffee table across from him, your knees hitting his.

“Why?” You asked.

He didn’t look at you, just stared down at his hands.

“Shawn,” you said quietly. “Why don’t you want me to go on this date with Hayden?”

He finally looked up at you, noting the change in your voice, the irritation being replaced with that soft sound of your voice that he always craved.

“You know the answer, don’t you?” He said quietly.

You nodded your head in response, “Yeah, I think I do.”

He didn’t say anything, just leaned back and rested his arms over his face.

“But I need you to say it out loud,” you said, leaning your elbows on your knees.

“What are you going to say back?” He whispered.

“Guess you’ll find out.”

Shawn took a deep breath before saying, “I think I’m falling in love with you, and the thought of you hooking up with some guy that isn’t me over Christmas break, where I don’t get to see you for a month, makes me sick.”

“I’m not seeing him,” you responded a little too quickly.

He looked up at you with a confused look.

“I told him that it probably wasn’t a good idea,” you paused. “Because I didn’t want to ruin what I think could happen with someone here.”

Shawn didn’t try to hide the smile on his face as he said, “Who’s the someone?”

You rested your head in your hand and mumbled, “Do I have to say it?”

“You made me say it, now you have to,” you heard his voice from just inches away from you.

You looked up, his nose almost hitting yours.

“It’s you,” you paused. “I didn’t want to ruin what I thought could maybe happen with you.”

Shawn cupped your cheek in his hand, and you leaned into his touch. You both leaned in as he kissed you, holding your face in both his hands as you rested yours on his knees. He pulled away after a moment, looking at you with that look before pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“You taste like peppermint,” he mumbled against your forehead. You couldn’t help the laugh that came out as you pushed him back against the futon and straddled his lap.

“Want to taste it again?” You said before leaning in again, your presentation long forgotten, as you let your Christmas spirit hold break a little earlier than planned.

P.S. I wanted to name this “Peppermint Kisses,” but that clearly gave the ending away.

REBLOG, SEND ME MESSAGES, ASKS, REPLYS ANNNYYTTHHIIINNGGG

taglist (message/send me an ask/reply to be added for ficmas!!)

@fallinallincurls @shawnblrficawards

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exxar1 · 3 years

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Episode 11: New Believer, New Faith, and a New Vow

2/7/2021

- 1 -

Good morning! It’s a beautiful Sunday here in Las Vegas. I have much to talk about so I’m just going to get right into it.

It’s hard to believe we’re already a full month into the new year. This year for me has been very rewarding thus far. For starters, I have had no trouble keeping up with resolutions 1 and 4. (For a refresher, you can scroll back through my previous posts to the one from New Year’s Eve.) I have found time each day to read my Bible and pray, and I have had little difficulty in maintaining a pleasant attitude and a smile in my daily encounters with my co-workers and customers. As expected, though, that latter one has been tested a few times by the occasional sour apples that woke up on the wrong side of the bed. But I’ve surprised myself every time by my patience and my ability to keep a calm and pleasant demeanor. (Those of you who have known me for a long time will understand how truly remarkable that is for me.) It’s simply another testament to the power of God to change our basic attitudes when we are willing to let Him.

I’ve also made great strides in resolution #3, and that’s where I’m going to spend the bulk of my time on this post.

Have you ever sought something – therapy, a particular medication, advice from a friend or colleague – thinking that it might help with one problem, only to be pleasantly surprised that one, the result helped in many other ways you hadn’t anticipated; and two, that the change/outcome/counseling exceeded your initial expectations by such a great magnitude that you couldn’t believe you hadn’t sought this help long ago? That feeling has been with me for over three weeks now, and it’s only getting better with each session.

One of my first tasks in tackling resolution #3 was to consult a pastor on this issue of homosexuality and the Bible. I needed to know what God really said in His Word on this controversial topic, and since I have yet to find a home church here in Las Vegas the only pastor that I am casually acquainted with is Mark Sjostrom of the church in which I was born and raised back in Twin Falls, Idaho.

For those of you unfamiliar with Twin Falls or this particular church, allow me to forge a brief rabbit trail here to give you a short history. Grace Baptist Church was founded in 1975, and, back then, it was just a one-story, oblong, red-bricked building, its main auditorium forming a bubble at one end, at the intersection of Eastland Drive and Falls Avenue on the eastern edge of town. It’s still that same building today, only now there’s a massive, two-story gymnasium/classroom on the other side of the back parking lot, and a third, smaller, two-room annex that sits behind the gym. The first of those latter two structures was needed in the early eighties when the church launched its own private school, Twin Falls Christian Academy. I was in kindergarten when the gymnasium was under construction. I have many memories of watching my dad and some of the other men in church up on the scaffolds, putting together the walls, while I waited for my mom to pick me up after school, which was held in the various Sunday school rooms in the church. A few years later, I would be attending high school in the classrooms above that gym.

In the years since I have grown and left Twin Falls, I have come back to that church on the occasional Sunday morning worship service when I’m home for a vacation visit. I’ve always had mixed feelings every time I set foot beyond the threshold of its main doors (see my previous posts about my struggles during my teen years.) It’s the same feeling you get when you come back to something that is at once familiar and strangely comforting, but also brings with it unpleasant memories and the pain of old wounds that have never quite healed.

Grace’s pastor since 2005 has been Mark Sjostrom (pronounced ‘shos-trum’), and I didn’t know him that well when I decided to consult him on this issue. Our only interaction thus far had been a brief handshake and a greeting after those sporadic Sunday morning worship services, and I wasn’t sure he would even remember me when I nervously texted him a brief ‘Hello’ a month ago. He responded within a few minutes, and I re-introduced myself and then gave a short explanation of what I needed. We agreed on a time and date for a phone call, and I emailed him the next day with a longer explanation of what I needed to talk about with him.

That letter was a somewhat detailed account of what most of you are already familiar with: my struggle in high school with keeping my secret of being gay while trying to fit in socially and eventually declaring myself an Atheist after being expelled from school my senior year a month before graduation. It was probably about 2 pages, and I was now very nervous after clicking the ‘Send’ button. I suppose now is a good time to tell you something else about me.

I have been one of ‘those people’ for all of my adult life. You know who I’m talking about: the people who silently judge the other customers in the book store who pause to browse the Self Help section; or the people who quietly scoff when anyone talks about their latest therapy session with their friends or coworkers at lunch in the break room. I’m glad I don’t need self-help or therapy, I’ve always thought. But, then again, good for them, I guess. I’m glad I have all my issues worked out, and I’m a stable, normal adult. I’ve never had any issues that were so bad I needed to get help from an armchair counselor’s latest best seller or a psychiatrist’s couch.

Hhmmm. My life, lately, has been chock full of irony.

When the time came to dial Pastor Sjostrom’s number my level of nervousness was up to a ten out of ten on the anxiety scale. I hadn’t felt like this since high school when it was opening night of our Agatha Christie play, and I was one of the main cast. I had prepared a detailed outline of what I wanted to discuss, and, after a few initial pleasantries, Mark quickly put me at ease. I was pleasantly caught off guard by his relaxed, casual personality. I found immediately that he was very easy to talk to, and my anxiety level dropped to a ‘three’ in the first five minutes. Pastor Sjostrom is definitely one of those people who has found the right calling. His warm, personable demeanor made me feel like I was talking to an old friend over coffee at Starbucks, and after about ten minutes of getting to know one another, he brought the conversation back around to my letter.

Here’s where my second surprise occurred. Mark was bluntly honest. I had told him that I believed I was saved in 1985, when I was seven, after the evening service of one of our church’s mid-summer week long revival meetings. “Neal,” Mark said rather pointedly, “after reading your description of your life after high school, I gotta say that it doesn’t sound like you were saved. Your behavior and your atheism doesn’t reflect the change that is described in the Bible.” He went on to explain that salvation is a change brought about the presence of the Holy Spirit in the new believer. There is a desire to learn more about God and His Word. There is a desire to serve him and to live one’s life in surrender to Him.

I had to pause and think about that. And, doggone it, you know what? He was right. And the reason I knew that was because I had only to look at the last four months of my life, even more so since I had returned from Christmas vacation. That desire – that hunger – to know God had never been present in my life until September 17, 2020. That was the night I surrendered to Christ in an awkward, fumbling prayer on the way home from work. Ever since, I have had nothing but a desire to read my Bible and change my life. I told pastor this, and he agreed. It was evident now that I was truly saved. That evidence was lacking in my youth and my adult life up to this point.

My third major surprise of that initial counseling session – yes, that was what is was – was when pastor told me he was assigning me homework for our next weekly conversation. He wanted me to read the book of 1 John. He explained that we would eventually get to the issue of homosexuality, but that we needed to cover this ground first. I agreed to the assignment, and we hung up. I glanced at the clock in the upper corner of my computer screen. We had talked for almost an hour. I immediately reached for my Bible and opened it to 1 John. I read the whole book in about ten minutes.

1 John is a primer for the new believer. John states clearly and succinctly what makes a Christian a Christian. Chapter 1:9 was immediately familiar to me from my Sunday School days: “If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness.” So was chapter 2:9: “He that saith he is in the light, and hateth his brother, is in darkness, even until now.” John goes to say in chapter 5:2: “By this we know that we love the children of God, when we love God, and keep His commandments.” And, finally, verse 20 of that same chapter: “And we know that the Son of God is come, and hath given us an understanding, that we may know Him that is true, and we are in Him that is true, even in His Son Jesus Christ. This is the true God, and eternal life.”

Yep. All of that book made perfect sense. Part of that was because I had absorbed so much of God’s Word in my youth that it had sat in the deep recesses of my brain for all of my life, and much of it had begun floating to the surface in the last several months – like debris from an ancient wartime submarine that has been recently dislodged from its ocean grave. Except that these artifacts – Bible verses, fragments of sermons, some of Mr. Walker’s proverbs from Bible class – were not dirty, soggy, disgusting relics. They were bits of priceless treasure, and I’ve been rediscovering them in dribs and drabs ever since.

I have had three sessions with Pastor Sjostrom, and they are each the highlight of my week. I very nearly broke down after hanging up from our first talk. I felt a combination of immense relief, peace and calm. Not to be overly melodramatic, but it was if something had dislodged in my very soul, like a sliver of wood just beneath the skin that has never quite come all the way out. I realized with immediate clarity that I was getting far more than just a pastor’s opinion on a particular issue for my book. I had stumbled on to something else, something I needed far more: spiritual counseling and guidance for my new life as a child of God.

I am a new believer.

That seems so strange to say out loud. I was raised in the church. I had at least a third of the Bible memorized by the time I was twelve. I knew all the major stories from the Old Testament – the creation of the world; God’s covenant with Abraham; Jacob, Esau and Isaac; Joseph sold into slavery into Egypt and God’s eventual deliverance of the Israelites from their captivity there; the introduction of the ten commandments and the Mosaic Law; Esther, Ruth, King Saul, David, the Book of Psalms, the prophet Isaiah – I knew all of it by heart by the end of my days in elementary school. Same for the New Testament – the birth of Christ; all of His teachings and parables; His death on the cross; His resurrection after three days; the founding of His church after His ascension back to Heaven – it was all as familiar to me by the time I walked away from high school as the mathematical precepts of basic addition, subtraction, division and multiplication.

I had assumed all this time that I was still saved. I thought I had really, genuinely believed in Jesus as my savior that long ago night in 1985 when I was seven years old. And maybe I did. But, for whatever reason, the Holy Spirit had not come into me back then. I was not truly saved. (This is perhaps worthy of a more detailed discussion and analysis later on down the road.) Whatever the case, I am most definitely a new believer now. The Holy Spirit is alive and well within me, and I have only a single desire and purpose: to know the God that created me, and to serve him with all my heart, soul and mind.

Pastor and I did discuss my homosexuality issue in our second talk, and that, along with the extracurricular reading I’ve been doing on this topic, has enabled me to finally reconcile what I couldn’t in my teen years when I first fought with this problem.

- 2 -

If I am gay, and God – through His written word – has condemned what I am as a sin, how can I be His child and serve Him as he commanded me to do? That’s the question I’ve been wrestling with anew for the last few months. I began this new journey in last September with the premise that I was born gay. I’ve believed that my whole adult life. I proceeded from that assumption through all of my reading and research these last few weeks. But if God made me this way, why would He then condemn as an abomination the very thing that I am? Is He not contradicting Himself? How can this be?

Pastor Sjostrom asked that very question in our second talk. He then went on to answer it by explaining that my unnatural desire for the same sex was a cause of the Fall, when Adam and Eve disobeyed God and ate of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. This is what led their descendants to the sins of idolatry, fornication, sexual perversion, and many, many others. Yes, I was born gay. But that’s not how God made me. There’s a very distinct difference.

His explanation corroborated what I have come to discover in the last couple weeks as I’ve read Two Views on Homosexuality, the Bible, and the Church from the Counterpoints series. Author and editor Preston Sprinkle gathered four prominent Christian authors, scholars, and theologians to discuss this issue – two for and two against. I will not go into great detail of what these authors debate and discuss, mainly for the sake of page and time, but also because this issue is not anywhere near as complicated as it seems.

All four of the contributing authors to the Two Views book have used the following Bible verses/passages as the foundation of their arguments:

1.) The creation story in Genesis 1 and 2.

2.) Genesis 19:4-11 (Sodom & Gomorrah)

3.) Leviticus 18:22 & 20:13

4.) 1 Corinthians 6:9-11

5.) 2 Corinthians 5:17

6.) Romans 1:18-32, emphasis on verses 26-28

7.) 1 Timothy 1:9-10

Those authors have also drawn from extra-Biblical material such as the writings of Philo, a Jewish historian who was a contemporary of the apostle Paul; the Apocrypha; the writings of Saint Augustine; and various other books – most written in the last 50 years – on sociology, sexuality and anthropology in the ancient world.

Here’s an example of one of one of the arguments for the church’s endorsement of homosexuality. One of Two Views’ contributors, Megan Defranza argues that there were many people in Biblical times that were born with no distinct male or female genitalia or other defining sexual characteristics. These “intersex individuals” were often referred to as eunuchs by the people of that time, and many of them were used as sex slaves. Megan claims that Genesis 1 is “…a theological account describing creation in broad categories, not an exact scientific inventory of all of God’s good creatures.” She goes on to say that Adam and Eve were not the exclusive, ideal models for all of man and womankind. They were, rather, just the broad categories; that the birth of eunuchs and other such of types of intersex people prove that God would welcome the church’s acceptance of gays, lesbians and transgenders since they have been born that way, and their sexual desires are natural to them. She claims that God was not condemning the eunuchs and other similar people in those verses/passages I listed above. Those condemnations were for the ones who had turned deliberately turned away from God to worship idols and indulge their sinful lusts.

There’s a lot more detail to Megan’s argument, especially regarding the eunuchs and their forced sexual slavery to their male masters, but it’s not worth going into here. The other three contributing authors give similar arguments, citing external sources in addition to scripture, to support their particular view. Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes, the two that are opposed to the church’s condoning of homosexuality and gay marriage, give the stronger of the four arguments. Two Views opens with Megan’s and William Loader’s essays (the other author who falls on the affirming and open acceptance side of this debate), but by the time I reached the end of their arguments, I already knew which side of this issue I was going to fall on.

Wesley Hill and Stephen Holmes – as well as Pastor Sjostrom – present a much stronger, sounder case for why the Christian church, no matter the denomination, should be condemning ALL forms of homosexuality as clearly as God does. My own Bible reading and prayer showed me this after only a few weeks. I don’t really need to read all the other books on this topic to know the truth. To be completely honest, I had a pretty good idea of what the end of this journey would look like before I even started it. All the verses from Genesis, Leviticus, Romans, 1st and 2nd Corinthians, and 1st Timothy that deal with this specific issue are quite clear. It is stated over and over: homosexuality is a sin in the eyes of God. Paul stated it best in 1 Corinthians 6:9-11:

“Know ye not that the unrighteous shall not inherit the kingdom of God? Be not deceived: neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God. And such were some of you: but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in the name of our Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God.”

That word “effeminate” in the KJV is translated from the original Greek word that Paul used: arsenokoitai. This is a compound word: arsen – male; koite – bed. “Male bedders”, in other words; those men who sleep with other men. In the NIV translation, the word “effeminate” is replaced with the phrase “men who sleep with other men”. The only other passage that Paul uses that word is in 1 Timothy 1:8-10 (NKJV):

“But we know that the law is good if one uses it lawfully, knowing this: that the law is not made for a righteous person, but for the lawless and insubordinate, for the ungodly and for sinners, for the unholy and profane, for murderers of fathers and murderers of mothers, for manslayers, for fornicators, for sodomites, for kidnappers, for liars, for perjurers, and if there is any other thing that is contrary to sound doctrine…”

The meaning of these two passages is quite clear: those that practice any or all of those sins listed will not inherit the kingdom of God. They are not true believers and followers of Christ. And thus, any church that not only allows its homosexual members to remain in their sin, but also performs gay marriage, is not a true church of God.

And such were some of you.

God has commanded those that follow Him and declare His name to turn from their wickedness and be transformed. Those that believe on His name and repent of their sins will no longer practice those sins listed in the passages I quoted above. That’s the meaning of the phrase, “…and such were some of you.” Well, I have definitely been transformed. I can feel the Holy Spirit working in me. And, because of that, I have no other choice. If I am to be faithful to my Lord and Creator, if I surrender myself completely to His will, I must take a vow to turn away from my sin nature. I cannot indulge in the “lusts of the flesh”, as Paul says in Romans, if I am to call myself a true Christian. I am now a child of God, and His will alone must govern all I say and do.

But, even more important than those passages I listed and quoted above, is the book of Genesis, chapter two. God created Adam first and then He decided it wasn’t good for man to be alone. So God made the woman out of Adam’s rib, and he called her ‘Eve”. Then, in verse twenty-four, God said, “Therefore shall a man leave his father and his mother, and shall cleave unto his wife: and they shall be one flesh.” This chapter, more than any other passage in the Bible, clearly and explicitly demonstrates what God had intended from the very beginning. The only natural desire of the flesh was for the opposite sex: man for woman and woman for man. That was God’s original plan.

Unfortunately for us, Adam and Eve did not resist the serpent’s temptation to eat of the Tree of Knowledge of Good and Evil. After the Fall, their perfect, pure natures were corrupted by sin, and that corruption was passed unto their children, and their children’s children. Part of that corruption was the perversion of the natural, normal sexual desire. Men lusted after men and women for women. Even though the subsequent passages in Genesis which describe mankind’s deplorable state before the Great Flood never state it specifically, it is not unreasonable to assume that more than just homosexuality was a problem. Bestiality, pedophilia, rape and incest were very likely abundant among the first few generations of man, as well as the worship of false idols and complete rejection of God. Why else would God have felt the need to punish his creation by wiping them from the face of the Earth, save for Noah and his family?

As the old saying goes, ‘God made Adam and Eve, not Adam and Steve’. I’ve always hated that pithy, snarky retort whenever I had to defend my sexuality to anyone who tried to tell me I was living in sin. But it’s true. God created only Adam and Eve; not Adam and Steve; not Melissa and Eve; not Adam, Eve, and some other non-gender, non-binary person.

Just Adam and Eve.

Man and woman were joined in holy matrimony and, until the Fall, they lived in perfect peace and union with their Lord and Creator. Anything that deviates from that original, holy standard that God still demands of His children today, is a sin. That includes homosexuality, bestiality, pedophilia, incest, idolatry and devil worship, to name a few. Anyone that willfully practices or engages in any of those things and does not repent cannot call himself a true believer in Christ. Nor can any church that not only openly endorses homosexuality but also performs gay marriage can call themselves a true church of Christ.

So then, what now? If I accept that my sexuality is a byproduct of my sin nature, and that God, in fact, did not make me this way, how can I best serve Him? I’m still gay. That hasn’t changed. (And, yes, I’m sure. I’m watching last week’s episode of The Resident as I write this. Matt Czuchry and Manish Dayal are among the best male eye candy on TV right now.) I still desire a physical relationship with another man. (Either of the aforementioned actors would be especially nice.) But that desire – as well as the act – is a sin. God has made that clear in his Word. After some more talk with Pastor Sjostrom, I finally came to an answer – or, at least, part of one.

- 3 -

I mistakenly assumed that after I asked Christ into my heart, after I surrendered myself to God, that my sin nature would be transformed. I thought what many torn, conflicted gay Christians and their family have thought: with enough prayer, genuine repentance, and strong faith I would no longer be a homosexual. God would change my unnatural desire, and I would be sexually attracted to women instead of men. I would throw out all the symbols of my gay pride that I had collected over the years – t-shirts, bracelets, baseball caps, the rainbow colored Apple watch bands – and I would begin my new life as a heterosexual man. 2 Corinthians 5:17: “Therefore if any man be in Christ, he is a new creature: old things are passed away; behold, all things are become new.” Yes, it would be hard at first, but God and I would make this work, glory hallelujah amen!

But that’s not how salvation works. Yes, there was a transformation, but not quite the kind that I was expecting. It’s hard to put into words exactly what I felt in the weeks and months following that quiet prayer on that car ride home from work late the night of September 17, 2020. I knew for sure that something was different. To begin with, there was an almost instant peace and calm that settled over my entire being. All the anxiety, the fear, and the worry about the state of the world around me that had been plaguing me for many weeks melted away. In its place was a quiet, firm assurance that, no matter what happened from then on, I was in the hands of God. He would take care of me.

And then, in the days and weeks that followed that moment of salvation, I began to feel more than just spiritual peace and tranquility. The first was a hunger – an insatiable, ravenous desire to read my Bible. I had only the app on my iPad, and I started with Genesis 1. Every night, before bed, I would read two or three chapters. And then I would pray. It was awkward and nothing like the prayers that I heard time and again from my dad or my teachers in high school or my pastor back then. I stumbled over my words, I repeated myself, I kept forgetting what I wanted to say. And I still felt weird doing it. It was like I was talking to myself. But I kept praying nonetheless.

Gradually, as Christmas loomed closer and closer, and the more I read my Bible and talked to God, I felt something stronger inside of me. But it wasn’t anything physical, like an emotion. It was…something else, something in my soul. I imagined this new feeling as a few drops of red ink falling into a bowl of clear water. At first, the drops fall straight down, coloring only a little bit of the water. But then the ink begins to slowly spread, crimson tendrils that stretch outwards, eventually turning the whole water into the color of blood. That’s what it felt like was happening inside of me. My soul – the very thing that made me me was being changed from the inside out. And it felt damn good!

It was after my Christmas vacation, after ten days of rest and relaxation with my family in Idaho, that I noticed an even bigger change. When I returned to the daily grind of my two jobs, I realized that my whole attitude – and, by extension, my whole outlook on life – had been transformed. I was no longer the angry, anxious, frustrated, fearful man that was always pissed about something – usually the people who were my customers. Before, I was short tempered, impatient, always inwardly complaining whenever those around me were being difficult or annoying me in some way. Now, however, I was at peace. The difference in my new attitude from the old was as glaring as night from day. I greeted my customers with a smile. It was no longer an effort for me to be patient with the difficult ones. Nor did I feel the need to rant and rage on social media about the problems of the world, as I had been doing practically non-stop before I became saved.

It was like being wrapped inside joy, as if joy was something tangible – like a big, soft, warm blanket fresh from the dryer. I had to constantly check my reflection because I was sure I had a giant, stupid grin on my face all day long. And that feeling only got stronger the more I continued to read my Bible – now an actual book that I had bought from Amazon – and pray. That, too, was getting better. I no longer stumbled over my words or forgot what I wanted to say. The hunger to know God, to build a new relationship with my Creator, overshadowed everything else in my life. I lost interest in many of the things that had once taken up all my time, like watching TV or playing video games. All I wanted to do every night when I got home from a busy day was to open God’s Word and keep reading.

But there was one thing that didn’t change during all of that wonderful transformation. I’m still gay. The desire for that sin is still there, as strong and lustful as ever. Everything else about me seems different. I am, indeed, a new creature in Christ. So why am I still gay? Why is this particular thorn still lodged firmly deep in my flesh?

I still don’t have an answer. But I do have a theory. The transformation of the new believer in Christ is not like wiping the old operating system of your ten year old iMac. With a computer you can install a whole new operating system that’s free of the bugs, viruses and malware that plagued the old system. The hardware is still the same old hardware, but the software is brand new. Your computer has been transformed. It performs and operates like a new machine.

But we humans are not machines. We are creatures born of the Fall. Being saved in Christ has made us like new, but the old self – the old, corrupt nature – is still there. The old operating system hasn’t been wiped away. Rather, the new OS is now installed, and the two systems are at war with one another. Why is that, I wonder? Why doesn’t God simply transform our sin nature by wiping it way when He fills us with the Holy Spirit? Wouldn’t that be easier – and more complete – than forcing us to constantly battle our old selves in order to remain faithful and obedient to Him?

The honest answer is, I don’t know.

What I do know is that God, in His infinite wisdom, has chosen not to remove this particular thorn in my flesh. I am still gay.

The thorn in my flesh. Yeah, that phrase sounds familiar. In fact, it’s been rolling around in the back of my brain for several weeks now.

In 2 Corinthians 12:7-10, Paul writes of the “thorn in the flesh, the messenger of Satan sent to buffet me.” Those four verses, more than any other Bible passages that I’ve read and also read about, have continued to echo within me ever since the beginning of this journey. Many pastors and scholars agree that that the thorn Paul speaks of was of a spiritual nature, not a physical. Paul says that he “…besought the Lord thrice, that it might depart from me.”

The thorn in my flesh.

What if I am in the same seat as Paul? What if my sexuality is the ‘thorn’ in my own flesh?

I think that part of the reason that God doesn’t just snap his fingers and wipe away our old self is because, without those old, sinful desires and temptations, we wouldn’t continually come back to Him for mercy, grace and forgiveness. It might have taken a little longer for me to surrender if the outside world hadn’t melted down last year, but I have no doubt now that God has always been working in my life, and He wants my love, worship and obedience. My homosexuality is a reminder from Him that I have a choice: I can give in to my sin nature and indulge my own desires, or I can turn from the flesh, take up my cross daily, and follow Him.

God knows us better than we know ourselves. He knows our sin nature, and He knows that when times are good, when everything is going our way, we often forget Him – just as the Israelites did over and over in the Old Testament. We get wrapped up in our daily lives, turn away from Him, and give our worship to false idols instead; or we just pay Him our weekly rituals and sacrifice on Sunday, and then put aside our Bibles until the following week. But it’s during the times of adversity, when God allows the trials and tribulations of life to afflict us, that we come to Him. We seek Him because He is our only source of comfort and peace. The storms in our lives remind us that God alone can save us, can heal us. Our afflictions draw us closer to Him. And, if we remain faithful to Him, there is much reward for our devotion and service. When the storm has passed, we often find a rainbow.

The rainbow was God’s covenant with Noah and his descendants that God would never again destroy the world with a flood. In our modern world the homosexual revolution of fifty years ago took the rainbow as a symbol of pride and diversity. When I entered my adult life as an out and proud gay man, I, too, adopted the rainbow as a symbol of pride in myself. I vowed to live my life on my terms, and I wouldn’t be cowered or ashamed into silence about who I was, of what I had been born as. But, of course, I have renounced all of that since becoming a new child of God. It is NOT my life, but His as a gift to me. I live now in complete service to Him, and Him alone.

But I’m not quite ready to throw away my rainbow bracelet that I wear on my right wrist every day. It is still a symbol to me – and to everyone I meet in daily life – but not the one that it used to be. I have found a new place beneath the rainbow created by God in the aftermath of that flood in Genesis. The peace and reconciliation I have long sought has been found at last, and the rainbow is a symbol of both my old life and my new one in God’s service. I don’t find that conflicting at all, just as I have no problem calling myself a gay Christian. Until such time as God, in his perfect timing and wisdom, decides to change my unnatural desire completely, I will always be a gay Christian, and the rainbow will be a sign of my personal covenant with Him.

The process of reconciling this issue, the spiritual traveling and soul searching that I have done over the last few months, has shown me clearly that God is my Lord and Savior. He has allowed this affliction so that I would do the work that I needed to reconcile what appeared to be a crisis of faith. I wouldn’t have experienced personal growth in my life – and my faith – without this conflict and pain. Yes, it has been painful. Peeling back the faded scars of old wounds wasn’t not all pleasant. I had to go back to that fifteen-year-old kid and have a long talk with him. (See section 5 of this post.) I wrote letters to my parents and my three brothers, apologizing for the way I treated them all those years ago. I have recognized how selfishly I have been living my adult life, and the pride of my old nature has screamed fiercely whenever I bow my knee and my heart every morning in prayer. There is now a fight within me – the old nature vs. the new self – that will never let up until I die. And, sometimes, that fight will be painful. And yes, I already know that there are times when I will fail, when I will give in to the temptation to break my new vow with God. But that failure is not as important to God as whether or not I stay in the fight. And I will stay. I’m in this for the long haul, and I know without a shred of doubt that God is on my side. He wants me to succeed.

Hallelujah, amen!

- 4 -

Most of you have seen my post on Facebook from three days ago. My only answer from God to this twenty-four-year-old conflict has been a call to celibacy. Until such time as he chooses to change my sin nature, to change my unnatural desire into a natural one, I have made the following vow to Him:

I take a vow of celibacy before God; that I have surrendered my life and my will unto Him; that I will not give in to the temptations of my sinful flesh; that I recognize my homosexual desire as a sin in His eyes, an abomination caused by the Fall; that He has saved my soul from eternal damnation, and I owe him nothing less than my whole heart, soul and mind.

I take this vow on the 3rd of February, 2021.

Amen.

- 5 -

I read a long time ago – probably in a textbook somewhere in college – that one of the tools therapists and psychiatrists use in their counseling of patients is to have their patients write a letter to their past selves. As I mentioned earlier in this post, I wrote letters to my family to apologize for how I had wronged them in the past. After some more thought and deliberation I decided to write one more letter, this time to that fifteen year old kid that used to be me.

At first, I thought this a stupid idea. I mean, how much more clichéd can one get? Plus, I’ve already treaded into dangerously melodramatic waters in this post. Is yet one more emotional, sappy passage needed?

Ehhhh…yes and no. Turns out, I had a lot more to say to myself than I thought at first, and, son-of-a-gun, I did feel remarkably better afterwards. Guess there was some genuine, therapeutic value to this little exercise after all.

So…here it is.

Hello.

It's been a long time.

Yes, I see you. You've been there all along, but only recently have I begun to really see you. You've been with me my whole adult life, affecting me, shaping me in ways I never realized until now. I thought I left you behind when I left high school. At various times in my life since, I've judged you, shunned you, tried to erase you, or just simply ignored you. I could never understand why you never had the courage to speak up, to ask for help. There were a few adults – or even your friends – who would have very likely sympathized and tried to help you. All you had to do was say something! But you didn't. You kept your secret, protecting it, guarding it like Gollum with his precious ring. I was the one who eventually had to reveal the secret to those around me when I was old enough and no longer ashamed of what I was.

But now I realize that instead of judging you and blaming you, there's one thing that I should have done long ago. I never said, “Thank you.” Thank you for giving me the strength and courage to step into the world as a confident, independent adult. It was because of you, what you went through silently as a teenager, that I developed the strength and resolve to live my truth as an adult. It was because of you that I knew what I wanted in life. It was never my desire to just go with the flow, to blend into the crowd and do whatever everyone else was doing. I did my own thing. And yes, it would have been better if I had been living that truth within God's will, but God, in His infinite wisdom, decided not to work His will just yet. He chose to wait while I forged my own path.

Part of me wishes that I could go back in time and be the adult that you needed. I would have embraced you, told you that you weren't a mistake; that God loves you just the way you are, including being gay. And, deep down inside, you knew that you were loved. Your parents told you that every day. But you always had that sliver of doubt in the back of your mind.

“Would you still love me if you knew my secret? Would you still accept me if I was gay?”

I, the adult looking back at you across the gulf of years between us, know the answer to that is a resounding “Yes! They have always loved you, no matter what!”

Part of me also wonders how our life would have been different if you had reached out to the one person that understood what you were going through; the one that knew your pain – and your secret. It was He that made you, after all. What I can see so clearly now is that it never occurred to you to reach out to God. You only knew Him through the church, through your teachers, through your parents, through all the endless rules, and restrictions, and demands that they all placed on you. That's what you rebelled against. God, to you, was just a system, an institution that governed every corner of your life. That institution would never understand your secret, would never accept you for the real you.

But He was there all along. He was there on those nights when you cried yourself to sleep. You were struggling to understand your pain, to understand the turmoil inside you, but you didn't have the words or the wisdom or the experience to fully realize it all. All that you knew was anger, frustration and fear. But God understood you, and He was there in the darkness, crying with you.

I want so badly to be there now, to wrap you in my arms and wipe away your tears and tell you that everything will be okay. Because it will be. You can’t see it now, but things will get better. You will find a way through this, and you will emerge on the other side with a strength and resolve that you never knew you had within you. The rest of your life is an as-yet-unwritten map of joys and blessings, failures and setbacks, triumphs and successes that will make all of this suffering worthwhile. You will know happiness that you couldn’t dream of – most of it found within the family that you don’t understand or get along with now. (There are 10 nieces and nephews that think you’re the greatest uncle ever, for example.) God has a plan for you, and, like the father of the prodigal son, He will be there with open arms when you finally come back home. He will accept you, just as you are.

But all of that is for later. For now, just know this: the storm will pass, and there will be peace.

You will find your rainbow.

#christianity #life #personal growth #homosexuality #gay

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wistfulcynic · 4 years

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Operation Emma’s Christmas

Merry Christmas to @kitsunewingstar! If I calculated correctly this should post in the afternoon of Christmas Eve for you, (very) early in the morning of Christmas Eve here in the UK/Europe, and Christmas Eve Eve in the US. It’s been lovely chatting with you and I hope you have a wonderful holiday with your family!

You requested something sweet and Christmassy, so I hope this delivers! For the purposes of the story, we’re assuming there was no Christmas under the curse (since we never saw/heard about it on the show) and that S7 and its timeline is not a thing.

Thanks to the @cssecretsanta2k19 for organising this event!!

SUMMARY: What with curses and monsters and trips to Camelot, and a distinct lack of quiet moments, the residents of Storybrooke have never really celebrated Christmas. Now that he has a child and a wife who misses the holiday, Killian is determined to change that.

He just has to figure out how.

(Set post-S6 in a world with no S7)

Tagging all the folks from the last tag list, PLEASE do let me know if you want to be added or removed. @kmomof4 @shireness-says @snidgetsafan @darkcolinodonorgasm @snowbellewells @stahlop @mariakov81 @courtorderedcake @jonirobinson64 @tiganasummertree @ohmightydevviepuu @shardminds @jennjenn615 @superchocovian @teamhook

On AO3

Operation Emma’s Christmas:

Killian Jones has been alive a very long time, and seen many strange and wondrous things. But none of them, from the spice markets of Agrabah to the snow-covered mountains of Arendelle to the hold of the Jolly Roger when it’s brimming with loot can, in his opinion, top the astounding treasure that is Google. He is awestruck by the notion of being able to ask any question he likes and having the answer appear within seconds. Emma tries to explain how anyone can put stuff on the internet and he can’t believe everything he reads, but he brushes her off. He knows how to separate fact from opinion and how to identify a reliable source, he tells her patiently. Among the many things they teach you in the Royal Navy.

With the aid of the oracle Google, Killian learns all about this extraordinary realm he now calls home, enough so that he no longer finds himself adrift on a foggy sea when Emma and Henry make references to things he’s never heard of. He finds lists of movies he should watch and books he should read and the most influential songs of the 20th century, and he sets about watching and reading and listening to each one, with all the studious dedication of the keen young lieutenant he used to be, oh so many years ago now.

“It’s kind of a shame we don’t do Christmas in Storybrooke,” says Emma wistfully one afternoon in mid-December, as they sit on the floor with their backs resting against the sofa watching Hope crawl around the living room. “Now that we have a kid. I mean, I had Henry before and we did Christmas in New York and in our fake memories, but… it’d be nice to do it here.”

Killian is already on his phone consulting the oracle on the subject of Christmas. An annual festival commemorating the birth of Jesus Christ, observed primarily on December 25 as a religious and cultural celebration among billions of people around the world, he reads. He clicks on Images and scrolls through brightly decorated evergreen trees, houses draped in twinkling lights, giant-sized stockings hung above fireplaces and a very fat bearded man dressed in red. He makes a mental note to do more research when he gets back to the station and in the meantime looks up at where Emma and Hope are now playing patty cake.

“Why can’t we?” he asks.

“Why can’t we what?”

“Celebrate Christmas?”

“Oh. I don’t know, I guess we’ve just never done it in Storybrooke.” Emma pauses, laughing as Hope leans in to pat her cheeks. “Because of the curse, I suppose.”

“But knowledge of it is presumably part of this curse download that your family and all the residents who were brought here by Regina had, correct?”

“I suppose so.”

“Well, that surely means that they would wish to begin a new tradition, one that includes this festival?” he presses.

“Oh, I don’t know, Killian.” Hope crawls into Emma’s lap and she cuddles the baby close. “I don’t want to make a big deal about it. It doesn’t matter.”

But if there’s one thing Killian doesn’t require Google’s assistance to understand, it’s his wife. This Christmas business is clearly very important to her, and he intends to see that she gets the finest celebration of it that he has in his power to provide.

—

Killian’s first step in Operation Emma’s Christmas is to enlist the aid of Henry and David. The prince to help him procure all the materials he needs, the lad to come up with a name better than “Operation Emma’s Christmas.”

David comes through like the noble royal and loving father (in-law) that he is, but Henry, to Killian’s great chagrin, loves Operation Emma’s Christmas. “Straight and to the point,” he says. “Perfect.”

Killian sighs, frowning at the back seat of David’s truck where his stepson sits typing something on his phone. The lad is so much more prosaic now that he’s discovered girls, he thinks, when really the opposite should be true.

“Are you sure you can’t come up with something better?” he grumbles.

“Nope.” Henry doesn’t even look up from his screen. Killian sighs again.

“Don’t worry, Hook,” says David. “The operation will be a success, the name doesn’t matter. Actually, I’m really glad you thought of it. I’ve been intending to get a Christmas tradition going around here since Neal was born, but what with one thing and another—”

“Never a quiet moment,” says Killian. “Aye.”

“Well, we’ve got one now and we’re gonna make the most of it,” says David, pulling the truck over to the side of the road. The three of them get out and Killian catches his breath at the sight before him. They are standing above a wide, snowy valley, extending as far as the eye can see, liberally dotted with lush green fir trees.

“Take your pick,” says David with a grin, pulling a large saw from the back of the truck.

“Lad, I’m going to need your help for this,” says Killian.

“Oh yeah,” says Henry.

—

Once the trees are procured, their next stop is Regina’s house. She doesn’t look particularly pleased to see them, even less so when they explain their mission.

“Christmas decorations?” she says in that scathing tone that still gets Killian’s hackles up, even though they’re technically friends now.

“Yep,” says David, crossing his arms over his chest and giving her what Emma calls his ‘stern Dad’ look. “I have to assume that we never had Christmas in Storybrooke because you didn’t allow it under the curse. Am I wrong?”

“No.” Regina has the grace to look abashed. “You’re not wrong.”

“Well then. Don’t you think it’s time you rectified that?”

“So you want me to what, just magic up some ornaments so you can decorate a tree for Emma?”

“And for David and Snow,” says Killian. “And anyone else who wants one. I mean, decorations for the whole town would be best, but if that’s beyond your scope…”

Regina sneers. “Let’s start with yours and Emma’s,” she says.

—

Snow White is well known for her inability to keep a secret, and so they elect not to bring her in on Operation Emma’s Christmas. Instead Henry is tasked with distracting both her and his mother while ornaments are hung and lights strung at the respective Jones and Nolan households. David and Killian requisition walkie-talkies from the station and have far too much fun strategising and organising their decorating battle plans while Hope gurgles and Neal babbles mostly coherently in the background.

It takes perhaps longer than it should, neither of them having any actual experience to draw on and needing to consult the oracle frequently, but in due course everything is ready and Killian sends Henry a text with the all-clear.

He fidgets as he waits for Emma to return, fussing nervously with Hope’s tiny Santa hat as she gums at the pacifier stuck on the end of his hook—a red one for Christmas. He double-checks that all the lights are on and the ornaments hung just so, and all the parcels are stacked in a pleasing way beneath the tree. When he hears her at the door he snatches up the baby and positions them both in front of it all.

“Killian, I’m—what the—” Emma’s face is a picture as she takes in the sight before her. The huge tree that Henry selected fills nearly half the room, and is covered in shiny red and green ornaments and sparkly lights, with a bright silver star at the top. Beneath it piles of presents sit wrapped in glossy paper and festooned with ribbon bows, and lined up along the mantelpiece are four huge stockings labelled Hope, Henry, Emma, and Killian. The effect, Killian hopes, is festive in the extreme, merry and jolly and everything Emma missed out on when she was growing up.

“Merry Christmas, love,” he says.

Emma turns in a slow circle, eyes wide and mouth agape. “But it’s—it’s only the 20th!” she says.

“Aye, rather late. Google informs me that some people decorate their homes as early as the first of November. But we still have time to enjoy it, apparently the custom in many households is to leave the lights up until the sixth of Jan—oof!” He exhales sharply as Emma throws herself at him, one arm wrapping around his neck and the other cradling Hope’s head as she kisses him.

“I can’t believe you did all this,” she says, peppering his face with kisses. Hope gurgles indignantly and Emma kisses her as well.

“Henry and your father helped. And Regina, as a matter of fact.”

“But I bet it was your idea, wasn’t it?” She gives him a knowing look.

“Aye, I confess it was.”

“Because I mentioned in passing that it’s a shame we don’t do Christmas in Storybrooke?”

“It was the way you mentioned it.”

“The way I mentioned it,” she echoes.

He nods. “Aye. I sensed it was something you missed out on in your youth, and that you wanted Hope to have the experiences you lacked.”

Emma brushes her fingertips across his cheek, a soft smile on her face. “You sensed all that from me saying it might be nice to have Christmas here?”

He grins and pulls her closer, shifting Hope so she is snuggled between them. “How many times must I tell you, my love, that you are an open book to me?”

She returns the grin, letting her forehead rest against his. “At least once more, I guess.”

“As always.”

#cssecretsanta2k19 #kitsunewingstar #profdanglaisstuff #operation emma's christmas #cs fic #cs ff #canon compliant #sort of #future fic #christmas fic #captain swan #captain cobra #captain charming #cs family fluff #sweet and fluffy #and christmassy

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eclare-draws · 4 years

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Operation: Sleepover

Here’s the first chapter of my newest fic.

It’s full of dumb teenager-y fluff based on that period of time in Chat Blanc where Adrien and Marinette are dating and he knows she’s Ladybug but she doesn’t know he knows or that he’s Chat Noir

Adrien somehow got permission to have Marinette stay the night at his house. They're both nervous teenagers who are really in love. Marinette makes a dastardly plan with Alya's approval.

Also, nothing really sexy happens in this story (just smooches and lots of blatant staring), but I feel weird about writing about 13/14 year olds so I'm pretending they're like 15/16? Idk fam, imagine what you want. Just keep in mind that these innocent beans are staying that way while still behaving like youngish teens.

Here it is on AO3, where I will be posting the next chapters too.

Ch 2 Ch3 Ch4 Ch5

(Oh also, the texting is just [Marinette] {Adrien} |Alya| and whoever’s the focus of the voice is bolded)

Marinette couldn’t help but grin as she read the text that popped up on her phone.

{See you tonight! *kissy emoji* Don’t forget your toothbrush, princess! <3}

She was really going over to Adrien’s house for a sleepover. Adrien her boyfriend. She was going to watch movies with him. On his couch. In HIS room. With HIS cute face. It’s not like they hadn’t hung out before. They went on dates all the time - Mr. Agreste was surprisingly lenient with letting Adrien out of the house for her sake. But she was going over to his house for a whole night. Usually, it wasn’t more than a few moderated hours of studying and video games. Marinette couldn’t help but giggle in excitement as she responded.

[Oh and I bet you want me to bring my own clothes too, huh, prince boy?]

{I mean it’s recommended unless you want to be stuck in a shirt five sizes too big for you, my little sugar cube <3}

Marinette blushed at the thought of wearing his clothes. They would be so soft, and so warm and so- wait. Five sizes too big? “Little”?

[Take it back.]

{Hmmmmmmmmmm….? Take what back, princess?}

[I’m not that small.]

{Aren’t you though? I could probably scoop you up with one hand and kiss your tiny little head <3 And you’d blush and be so so cute, princess}

[Adrien.]

{And then I’d laugh at how cute you are, but the force of the wind coming from my mouth! Oh no! You’ve been blown away!}

Marinette wasn’t that upset by his short jokes. He was so tall, and she was admittedly petite, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t feign frustration for a bit to keep him on his toes (she knew that this usually ended with him sending heart emojis and him continuing to make short jokes).

[I’ll be at your house at 6:00 unless you keep this up. I have to go get my stuff ready.]

{:((((((( I was only joking, princess}

{ily}

{Mariiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii}

[Seen 5:19PM]

{You didn’t need to type that :(}

[I love you too, silly prince.]

{:D}

{I knew it!}

{Everyone called me crazy but I knew you liiiiiked meee, princess}

[Let me pack, or else your princess won’t make it in time for dinner]

{As you wish. <3}

She clicked her phone off and set it down as she began to pack. She rifled through her drawers to try and find the cutest pajama set she had. Just as she settled on a matching pink floral button up and shorts combo, a wicked thought popped into her head. She grabbed her phone and tapped on her text conversation with Alya.

[I just had an idea.]

[Idk if it’s crazy or not but I need an expert opinion on the matter.]

Marinette got frustrated from the lack of immediate response. She was in a hurry and KNEW her best friend had her phone in hand at all times. Sure, it had only been a few seconds, but...

[Alya this is time sensitive.]

|Ah yes, the phrase no one can be safe after it is typed out by your thumbs, “I just had an idea.”|

[Rude]

|Spill, girl.|

Spill she did. Oh yes, it was a devious plan. She wasn’t sure what the reaction would be, but she’d all but decided on the course of action she planned to take tonight. Alya’s response was the only encouragement she needed.

|Damn, Mari. It’s crazy, I’ll give you that… but… I think it’ll work.|

[That’s what I was hoping you’d say >:3]

[But what if he thinks I’m… trying to seduce him?]

|Are you not?|

[NO!]

[We aren’t there yet, we’re… taking things slow? I guess?]

|God you’re cute.|

[u////u]

|I totally get that, girl. Take your time. Adrien’s sweet but a little too innocent to let this seduce him. I think you should do it.|

[I feel like that should be a sign that I shouldn’t]

[But I can’t be stopped now]

|You got this, girl. Text me to tell me how it goes?|

[Of course.]

With that, she got back to packing. She ran around her room, grabbing whatever she thought she might need. Her brain was a little scattered, being so focused on her plan, that she packed a lot of things she didn’t need. She had her toothbrush and other basic toiletries, a change of clothes for the next day, hairbrush, phone charger, water bottle, a bag of cookies for Tikki, a bag of cookies for Adrien, a notebook and pencil, a mini sewing kit, perfume, two pairs of shoes, a sketchbook, and a stuffed animal. As she tried to squash the poor little stuffed cat into her bag, she realized that she didn’t need all of this and took out the sketch pad, notebook, pencil, sewing kit, perfume, second pair of shoes, and the water bottle. She then shoved Mr. Vuitton the cat into her bag and zipped it up. As she hoisted the bag onto her shoulder, she glanced down at the abandoned pajamas lying on the floor. Tikki popped out from within the bag and gave Marinette a thoughtful look.

‘Maybe… I should…’ she thought, backtracking on her plans. She shook her head to clear it, stuck her phone in her pocket, and made her way to the trapdoor. She got halfway down the stairs before she ran back up and shoved the floral pink shorts in with everything else, then ran back downstairs, hearing a small giggle from inside her bag as she did so.

She glanced at the time. 5:43PM. She could make it in time if she walked fast enough. Before she left, she stopped by the bakery to give her parents kisses, her mom reminding her of the “serious relationship” talk they’d had the night before that Marinette didn’t want to think about too much as she rushed her way to her boyfriend’s house. She considered taking the metro to avoid getting sweaty, but nixed the idea when she remembered that rush hour was not going to help the state of her underarms either. Transforming was also out of the question unless she wanted attention and a strict talking-to from the kwami napping somewhere in the bag draped over her shoulder.

At 5:58PM, she rang the buzzer to announce her arrival, Nathalie’s questioning coming through the speakers quickly before a slightly panting Marinette made her way to the front doors of the mansion. Before she was even halfway up the stairs, a door was flung open and the boy she loved skirted out from behind it and raced to meet her where she was on the stairs while a disproving Nathalie looked on.

Unfazed by his excited behavior, she laughed as he greeted her with a kiss on each cheek and one on the lips. His face hovered close to hers as he started slipping the bag from her shoulder, “Let me carry that for you, princess.”

Blushing at the fact that Nathalie was watching as well as a reminder of, ‘wow he really is just like a puppy sometimes,’ she obliged and let him carry the bag as he linked arms with her for the remainder of their ascension.

“So I’m on kind of a strict protein based diet right now, something about wanting to bulk me up, so I hope you like meat and veggies with… absolutely no carbs,” trailing off, Adrien gave her a side-eye, a look she only knew too well from whenever he was put on a new diet. She winked at him and made a slight gesture to her bag to indicate that she had some sweet sweet carbs hidden away in there. Adrien grinned and kissed her forehead as they made their way inside the mansion.

Marinette wondered briefly if she would ever get used to the expanse that was the Agreste mansion. It felt too clean and empty to her, especially considering how small and cozy her home was. As they made their way into the dining room with the background noise of Nathalie listing off rules of the house and reminding Adrien of his schedule, Marinette couldn't help that twinge of guilt from settling in her stomach. She wished, for Adrien’s sake, that he could have grown up in a normal house with a normal family and a normal life rather than the one that was put upon him.

As Nathalie took Marinette’s bag from Adrien and left the room, Marinette gave a sad look towards Adrien and was surprised to be met with his expectant and loving gaze. “You okay, ‘Nette?” he asked as he pulled out a chair for her.

“Yeah, sorry! Just got a little… lost in my thoughts, that’s all. Have the rules changed since the last time I was here?” she responded, a smile leaking onto her face as she sat down adjacent to Adrien.

“No, not really. Nathalie did mention specific… bedroom rules,” he blushed at that, “But I don’t really think it applies to us?”

Not understanding why he phrased it as a question, Marinette returned his blush with her own as she asked for clarification, “What kind of ‘bedroom rules’?”

“You know… The usual. Don’t be naked with one another? Leave room for Jesus? Don’t boink your oinks?”

“Word for word, those are the rules?” Marinette giggled, a brow subconsciously quirking up in amusement.

“It’s in the official Agreste mansion rules for guests, section 51J,” he unrolled an invisible scroll and cleared his throat. “‘Thou shalt not boink oinks until there has been proper discussion of said act between all parties of the household as well as the Lord and Saviour, Jesus Christ, in one room. Finally, the oinks in question must be old enough to consent to boinking.’”

Marinette lost herself in a fit of giggles. Between the funny voice Adrien put on, the idea of Gabriel Agreste having a sex talk with his son, and the goofy smile he was giving her after rolling the invisible scroll back up, it was too much. Adrien joined in with her steadily growing laughter until they had to stop to gasp for air. Marinette wiped a tear from her eye and looked up at Adrien, who was absolutely beaming at her. The moment he moved to push some hair out of her face, the door opened. Marinette watched with a pit in her stomach as Adrien lit up and looked at the door expectantly, only to let his features fall into a frown and let out a sigh. It wasn't his father, it was just the chef bringing in their meals. Marinette let her hand rest on top of Adrien's as plates were set in front of them. The chef placed a glass of water in front of Adrien and a cup of hot jasmine tea down for Marinette. While she knew her attention should be set on her aching boyfriend, she couldn't help but beam at the meal in front of her. It was just as Adrien said - protein heavy red meat and roasted veggies - but Marinette knew that every meal at his house was like eating at a nice restaurant and was excited to dig in. Not only that, but the chef had remembered her love for the fancy jasmine tea they often had at the house. She glanced at her boyfriend once more to make sure he was okay before she started eating. He gave her a smile and then gestured at her plate as he picked up his utensils.

#adrienette #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #fanfic #ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug #miraculous #ladybug #chat noir

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