#smoke shop mural

[mistydeyes]

opposite occupations

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summary: all the 141 boys have different plans while on leave, each having their own idea of how to spend the time. but when they run into a lovely civilian, they realize that all the long hours, deployments, and trainings worth it.

pairing: 141 x civvie!fem!Reader

warnings: swearing, all fluff :)

a/n: I love me a good little meet cute

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price - florist

Everyone knew that the minute Price went home, he would be making the trek to his favorite cigar shop. It had been one he frequented for years, the familiar sign welcoming him home. Most shops on the street stayed the same. He liked the constancy, the familiarity.

As he rounded the street corner, he noticed a new shop had filled the unoccupied next door. The pale pink awning and rose-tinted glass were a new sight to see. "Sentiments of Carnations" he read as he walked past. He could see through the window that the shop had not yet been opened, noting the smell of fresh paint and empty displays. He wondered what grandma had put their retirement money into this florist shop.

He continued, opening the cigar shops store and smelling the musk of smoke and tobacco. "Ah John, I have your regulars set aside," the old shop owner said with a smile. "Back again for long?" he asked upon his return with a dark oak box. "Just waiting for another phone call from his majesty," he joked and slid over the usual bank notes. "I'll be seeing you," Price said as he opened the door and exited with the familiar chime of the bell.

As he embraced the warmth of the summer England weather, he pulled out one of his fresh purchases, excellently wrapped and balanced. He flipped open his lighter from his pocket and sat down to have his first smoke at home. He closed his eyes and savored the notes of espresso and hickory. As he sat in his small nirvana, he heard the florist's doors open.

He turned as he saw you, a flower behind your ear and a pink apron that perfectly matched the outside of the shop. You were not the grandma he had expected and instead were beautiful, the sun catching your lovely features. You had placed an antique table outside, along with a bucket of a colorful array of flowers adorned with a handwritten tag. You hung a small sign on the table that read, "Take one for a friend, family member, or loved one." You smiled at yourself, proud of the little display. You turned your head and noticed the mature man enjoying his smoke only a meter away from you. You picked out a scarlet carnation and walked over to the man, handing it to him.

"Here, you go," you said as his calloused fingers held the flower delicately. "A flower to brighten someone's day," you said with a smile. "Thank you, although I am not a man for flowers," he replied and extinguished his cigar. "Well, flowers can be for a variety of reasons, a friendly gesture, a gift for someone you fancy, or even something to brighten up your flat."

You ended with a sweet smile and he could feel himself melt on the spot. Something about the floral aroma emanating from the flower behind your ear along with your soft voice and pleasantries added to his current state of nirvana. You were so radiant in this light and he appreciated the kind gesture, especially upon his return home.

"No one to give a romantic gesture to, but thank you," he replied. "Well if that ever changes, my shop opens later this week! The shop's number is on the tag" you said before giving him a small wave and wink. He could hear the shop's door close as you began to set up your display and paint a mural on one of the walls. As he twisted the carnation in his hand, he knew he would be adding your shop to his routine becoming your most frequent customer.

soap - tattoo artist

Soap looked at his phone, making sure he was in the right place. His favorite tattoo shop near his Scottish home had closed and he was taking a recommendation from Ghost.

"She's got an attitude but her work is amazing," Ghost had said before Soap's deployment. He couldn't deny the craftsmanship of her work on Ghost's arm. He marveled at the attention to detail as Ghost proudly shoved off his ornate sleeve.

Soap had an appointment for today, previously approving of the artist's rendition of his vision. A black-and-white thistle, a charm his mother had said. It was commonly known to keep its owner away from danger and bad acquaintances. Something Soap needed on the battlefield.

He pushed the maroon door open, admiring the many gold frames with what he assumed were some of the artists' work. He let out a light chuckle as he noticed a framed sketch of Ghost's sleeve. He was just about to snap a picture when a voice called out, "Hey Mohawk, this isn't a museum."

He turned around to see a woman, a gorgeous one at that. You were wearing a tank top that showed off a collage of various tattoos in different styles. You had been taking a break and relaxed, sitting behind a desk, feet propped up.

"Actually, lass, I'm here with an appointment," he said, walking over to you. "Name's John MacTavish." he finished with a cheeky smile.

"Ah MacTavish, one of Riley's military boys I'm guessing. How's that masterpiece of mine doing?" you joked, Soap didn't know what to say. Were you and Ghost a thing?

You laughed at his pause, "My tattoo, Mohawk. There's no way I'd be shagging his Halloween-looking-arse." Soap appreciated the heads up about your attitude and knew this was gonna be a fun session.

"Looks gorgeous, Sweetheart. Just like yourself," he poked back and you let out a loud laugh, almost doubling over. "Don't flatter yourself, you can go make yourself comfortable in my station over there. Looks like you're only getting a bicep tat, so I better not see your shirtless arse back there."

Soap made his way to where you motioned, sitting down in the black velvet chair. You came in a few minutes later with your sketch and supplies. You closed the scarlet curtains behind you before walking over to prep his arm.

As you sat in relative silence, Soap asked, "So what do the tattoos mean, Lass?" You finished your prep work and were working on the correct tattoo placement. "Travels from around the world. I took it upon myself to get a tattoo in every new country."

With that, you offered him a mirror so he could approve of the sketch and placement. The tattoo rested on his right bicep and he made sure to look at it at every angle and made sure to flex for your enjoyment.

"Alright, muscle man, this should only take a few hours as long as you don't pass out on me," you said and began to tattoo your next masterpiece. During the next two hours, you made conversation about the tattoos meaning, his life in Scotland, and you even shared more intimate details about your travels.

The hours flew by like minutes to Soap as you let him know you were finished. He admired the detailed flower and you handed him some care instructions with some cream. "And your buddy paid for you ahead of time, so you're all set, Mohawk" you replied and Soap got off of the chair.

"See you around, my world-class woman," he joked as he exited the door. You slightly cringed, wondering if writing your number on the tube of aftercare cream was a good idea or not.

gaz - primary school teacher

Gaz looked at himself in his flat's mirror. He brushed a hand over his freshly cut hair and evened out his dress shirt. "Just a favor for a friend," he said to himself as he walked to catch the next tram. Two days ago, an old colleague during his days working with the metro police force had reached out to him. They called in a favor, "Kyle c'mon it's just a couple of primary students, all you need to do is give a little talk about stranger danger." Knowing he had nothing else better to do, Gaz agreed.

As he signaled the tram to stop, Gaz looked at the brown brick building reminding him of his younger days. Gaz walked in, checking in with the receptionist who directed him to the classroom where he'd be giving his talk. He was early, the school had not yet opened but he was asked to have the presentation at the beginning of class before the children's lessons. He admired the walls filled with the artwork of the students, silly attempts at drawing their families. He finally reached your classroom, noting the smiling sunflower on your opened door. He knocked softly and he saw you lift your head to greet him. If he had known you would be so beautiful, he would have not needed his friend's encouragement.

"Ah you must be Sgt. Garrick," you said, beginning to get up from your desk to greet him. You smoothed out your skirt and placed your glasses down. "It's just Kyle," he said and returned your friendly smile and warm handshake.

"Well Kyle, the children should be arriving in a few minutes. I'll get them settled and introduce you for your small talk today," you said with a grateful nod. You motioned for him to sit at your desk as you stood at your door to greet your excited second-year students. Gaz played on his phone and smiled as he heard you return the children's happy good mornings with a similar high-energy one. The students began to file in, placing their bags in their cubbies, and sitting with their friends. You heard small whispers from the children, wondering what you were doing at their teacher's desk. He let out a chuckle when he heard one boy whisper, "Is that Miss Y/N's husband? He's sitting in her chair."

Finally, with all the children in their seats, you walked to the front of the classroom and greeted your students warmly. "Good morning everyone, today we have a very special guest with us. This is our friend, Kyle, and he's here today to tell you all a little something before we start our lessons."

Kyle knew this was his cue, he rose from your desk and swapped places with you at the front of the room. "Hi everyone, today I'm going to teach you smart kids about something called 'Stranger Danger'." The children oohed in response as Kyle waved his hands in a fake menacing manner. You smiled as he was a natural. The children were attentive, writing down the information as he spoke and working together with their classmates to fill out the worksheet answers. Kyle ended his talk and asked if anyone had any questions. One child raised her hand and Kyle called on her. "Is Miss Y/N a stranger? I'm confused."

"I'm your teacher, Amelia. Teachers that you know aren't strangers," you responded and Kyle nodded in agreement. Another kid raised their hand and asked, "But you aren't Kyle's teacher, so you're a stranger to him."

Before either one of you could respond, his friend boasted, "It's because they're married, your Mum and Dad aren't strangers to each other." Both you and Kyle shared a look and he saw the soft blush rise to your face. "Ah we're just friends," he said and saved you the embarrassment.

Little did Kyle know, his email would chime that night with a thankful message from you along with your number at the bottom asking him to breakfast that weekend.

ghost - veterinarian

Unlike most people, Ghost loved the quiet ambiance of London's rainfall. The streets were empty and peaceful as people were cozying up in their homes with a blanket. Enjoying the evening air and cold, he walked with an umbrella in one hand and a warm cup in the other. His boots resounded on the cobblestone street as he sipped his Earl Grey tea. His chest was warm from the bold citrus and bergamot liquid. This was, in his opinion, an ideal leave well spent.

The rhythmic rain fell and his walking was interrupted by a soft mewing. Simon hurried down the street to find the source of the noise. In front of a grocer's, he noticed a small cardboard box being drenched by the unrelenting rain. He placed his cup down and gently lifted the box. Underneath was a small grey cat, cuddled into a ball to experience some semblance of warmth. Simon placed his umbrella to shield the box and lifted the tiny meowing animal into his hands.

As he cradled the cat to his chest, he heard a click of heeled boots behind him. He turned his now-drenched head to notice you walking up with a bright orange umbrella adorned with cat paws. "Excuse me, Sir, but is he yours?" you asked gesturing to the ball of grey that laid meowing in his arms. "Uh he's not, I found this little fella underneath this box here."

"Ah a Good Samaritan, I see. Well, I own the veterinarian shop down the way, I can take him off your hands if you'd like and make sure this little lad gets the care he needs," you said and offered a hand to hold the kitten. You noticed his slight hesitation and said, "If you'd like, I'll give you my card so you can take the little one home when he's all better."

"That would be nice," he smiled underneath his black face mask. Simon loved animals, never being permitted to have one as a child. As you held the kitten in your arm, you handed him your umbrella. He initially tried to refuse but you insisted saying, "You're soaked, I'll be alright." You ended with a small giggle which made Ghost warmer than his now cold cup of tea.

"The least I can do is walk you back to your shop," he replied a little too quickly. He instantly realized the surprising force he had said that with and followed up with, "You know, just so you and Earl Grey can make it there in this weather.

"Earl Grey, I like that. That's my favorite order, especially on days like this." Simon moved slightly behind you, holding the umbrella to shield the three of you on your walk. The air was filled with the familiar scent of rain and the notes of your floral perfume. "I'm Dr. L/N by the way, but most people just call me, Y/N," you said as you continued on your way. "I'm Simon, a pleasure to meet you doc."

Three weeks later Simon's house was filled with all the necessities for a new cat father. As he grabbed his coat, he pulled out a water-stained business card with the vet's office address and your number written on the back. He smiled to himself as he traced his fingers over the small handwriting saying, "To Earl Grey's owner, fancy a cup of tea with me?"

#task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #cod x reader #call of duty modern warfare #cod mwii #modern warfare 2 #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #soap x reader #price x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john price x reader #Johnny mactavish x reader #mw2 imagine #madebyizzie #mw2 #izzie is writing #civilian! series

[wisteriagoesvroom]

landoscar florist and tattoo shop AU. lando has made a name for himself choosing bold, architectural arrangements that match people's auras and horoscopes.

oscar’s one of the most sought after young tattoo artists who specialises in highly detailed, lifelike anatomical drawings.

their paths cross at a fashion collab event - lando is in his element, oscar pointedly is not.

lando notices oscar is anxious and sits down with him to sketch out a really detailed, sculptural tattoo idea. it causes a buzz - people are eager to check out their designs and like the merging of styles.

lando scrawls his phone number onto oscar’s arm. they continue running into each other (deliberately, or not, who's to say) across town. at coffee shops, bars, even the city library in the art stacks. (oscar was looking for a book on escher, lando at rei kawakubo designs.)

in the library, lando pins oscar with his stare and with a low whisper, finally asks.

"so can i be the guinea pig for our sketch idea?"

oscar blinks. "you'd do that?"

"yeah. i really would."

"why?"

"we only live once, y'know? might as well get something to remember it by.”

oscar relents. the final design is a bouquet of flowers, each bloom with a meaning. it takes about six hours to finish the tatt. they smoke clove cigarettes, talk shit, and ramble together about the intersection of commerce, art, and humans.

towards the end of the session, lando winces as oscar goes over a particularly sensitive spot.

"you've been very brave." oscar says.

"have i?" lando replies, looking up at him with dinner plate eyes.

(they make out on the bench. oscar is of course very careful not to ruin the inkwork or poke lando where he's aching.)

so it goes. they breathe more life into each other’s creativity. lando ends up decorating the tattoo studio with new and interesting plants. osc does a mural for the flower shop that takes up half the wall, and it ends up being a huge hit. it features a lot of orange.

eventually they share a space. sometimes it’s light, sometimes it’s dark, but it is good.

#landoscar #mctwinks #twinklaren #f1 rpf #op81 #ln4 #I had no idea this would get so soft either #it’s all made up just roll with me here I beg #*shouts into a paper cone* it’s RPF!! #*strings up a banner* the RPF is whatever we make it! #Landoscar AU #wisteriahcs

[shelby-fangirl00]

1919-Part Seven

This is a bit of a filler, but I'm excited for the next chapter! Please tell me what you think of this one. any feedback is greatly appreciated!

Warnings: Adult language, smut (MINORS DNI)

Word Count: 2539

I sat with Finn all morning before fixing him lunch, finally allowing him to run off with his friends down Watery Lane. 

‘Alright, be back before 9 this time Finn, I mean it!’ I yelled out as he ran to the front door, swinging it open. 

I watched from the kitchen window as he ran out to played with a couple of other little boys from down the street, the only one’s whos parents would allow their children to be around a Shelby. I felt sorry for him. Some of the parents would tell their kids to avoid Finn in order to avoid conflict of any kind happening. They all feared a little boy, which made me chuckle.

‘Hello Love.’ Polly said from behind me, fixing a kettle of tea for herself. 

I turned around to meet her soft eyes. 

Just as I looked into her eyes, I was reminded of what today was. 

‘Oh Christ, I nearly forgot! Is Arthur in his office? I’ve been waiting ages for this!’ I exclaimed, bringing a wide smile to Polly’s face as she confirmed that he was. 

I hurried upstairs to grab the gift that I had wrapped up for nearly a month now. 

It was a painting I had done of Arthur. The mural was a shot of him with a giant cigar sittig between his lips, a big bright bowtie hung around his neck. I had it done right when he got back from France. The picture was quite accurate of his complexion today. I had the painter put him in his cap, the razors portruding out, which I knew he’d like in particular. It was a shot of him sitting at the Garrison along with his glass of whiskey in hand. I thought he’d like that. Arthur was 36 today. 

As I sped down the stairs and into the betting shop, the bustling of business was loud and present. Smoke filled the room and men were writing away and yelling out numbers for John to scribble down on the big black chalkboard. 

I smiled in his direction as he waved over to me.

I passed Tommy’s office on my way to Arthur’s. I gave him a quick glance as he looked at me curiously through the office window.

‘Happy birthday!’ I yelled out excitedly running over to Arthur, who had been sitting at his desk, cigar resting in his ashtray. He embraced me in a hug, engulfing me in his oaky scent.

‘Oh, well thank you! Ready to celebrate with me tonight?’ He asked, drinking already on his mind. 

‘Of course! But first….’ I sung out as I held up a finger.

I ran to grab the painting I had sat down outside of the door, where Tommy was now standing to my surprise, watching me and Arthur interact. My stomach did somersaults, as my mind wandered back to last night when I looked in his eyes. I could tell he was recalling it all as well. 

‘Good morning Tommy.’ I cherped up giving him a small smile that he exchanged, his hands in his pockets, studying me. 

‘Here ya go, a little something I’ve been hiding for quite a while.’ I said turning the painting around to show Arthur. 

He nearly snatched it out of my hands with excitment and tore the wrapping paper off greedily. His mouth dropped wide opened before he grinned widely. His eyes crinkled from his big smile. 

‘Jasmine Manson, you did not?! This is beautiful! Take a look at this fucka Tommy, it’s me, eh?!’ He almost seemed to ask.

‘Oh, I see it brother, very nice.’ Tommy stated matter-of-factly, leaning into the doorframe.

‘Yes, of course its you! Happy Birthday Mr. Shelby, you deserve it.’ I said as I gave him another warm hug and a sweet kiss on the cheek. 

‘Thank you kindly, Jasmine, this is far too much!’ 

‘Nah, nothing you don’t deserve, old man!’ I yelled behind me as I walked out of the office, passing Tommy. 

As I strutted out to the main room of the shop, I yelled out at John. 

‘See you tonight, Johnny, yeh?! 

‘Save me a dance Manson!’ Making me giggle as I closed the large doors to the shop and shutting the heavy green curtains, cancelling out all the noise.

                                                      ---

The club that Arthur had dragged us all into was beautiful and full of music. The high walls were a deep red, lined with a gold trim. Green round tables were splattered randomly across the room. We all stood at the bar, Watching the band and the crowd of people all with pretty dresses and suits dancing behind us. These people looked like they came from money. I was relieved we had all gotten dresses before going out, or they would’ve put us to shame. I was wearing a dress that Polly and Esme insisted I get. I thought the tight white lace was a bit much, but seeing how these people were dressed, I didn’t feel so out of place. 

I couldn’t hear anything other than the outpour of music. Arthur and John were piss drunk, demanding the bartender for an entire bottle of whiskey. 

Esme and Ada were already dancing within the crowd, lost inside the pool of people. 

Polly had set her sights on an older-gentlemen at the end of the bar, batting her eyes in his direction. 

I looked around to find Tommy’s face in the crowd of people, but he had vanished. I awkwardly stood alone, throwing back drink after drink, trying to push off the nerves of the night. You hadn’t been able to think about anything other than last night with Tommy. 

Did he regret what had happened? Did he…not enjoy it as much as I thought he did? Were things still the same between us? Will we be like that ever again?

I decided to step away from the overwhelming crowd and my own damning thoughts, to find a bathroom. 

As I walked past all of the round green tables in the room, I found a small and narrow hallway, leading to the back of the bar. It was dark and empty and I felt like I could breathe again, finally. I walked down the hall, expecting to see a bathroom nearby.

As I turned the corner, I ran directly into Tommy, who seemed like he had been waiting for me to find him. 

I practically squealed and jumped back, scared shitless. 

‘Jesus Tommy! I nearly-

I was cut off by his lips plunging into mine harshly, making me inhale sharply, furrowing my brows. He squeezed my hips tightly into his hands, pushing me roughly against the brick walls behind us. Overwhelmed by his scent and his dooming presence, my body instinctively relaxed into the wall. 

Without question, I fell deep into the kiss, feeling reassured that he didn’t regret last night. 

My heart was pounding through my chest. I couldn’t help the wetness pooling between my legs once again.

Suddenly and reluctantly, he pulled away from my mouth, lifting his head to trace the curve of my body, which was evident in my skin tight dress. His eyes were dark and heavy, as he licked his lips slowly.

‘You look beautiful tonight, Jasmine.’ He said with a wicked smile, rubbing his hands against my hips, still pinning me to the wall gently. 

My cheeks flushed with embarrassment as he studied my exposed chest and the prominent curve of my body. He ran his finger through the long pearl necklace that rested on my chest.  

‘I was hoping you’d like it. Thought it was a bit much, but Polly and Esme insisted.’ I giggled as he let out a small laugh too. 

‘Not too much at all, love. I’d like it if you dressed like this all of the time for me.’ He whispered as his head sunk into my naked neck to kiss me. I whimpered softly into him, letting my eyes flutter shut. His hands found their way up my hips and cupped my breasts, sending sparks through me. 

‘Someone will see us, Tommy.’ I said, giggling as I playfully attempted to push him off of me. My hands went up to push his chest, but his strong hands pinned my arms behind my back forcefully, not letting go. 

‘Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve been caught fucking and I’m sure it won’t be the last.’ He laughed as his large hand dropped to my leg, wrapping it around the back of my thigh and lifting it to wrap around him, making me squeele. He stared down into my eyes once more, making me feel 10 times smaller than him, completely under his control. 

I rested my hands flat on his cheeks before asking him, ‘So that’s what were doing, eh? You and I are just fucking?’ His eyes burned holes threw mine. 

Suddenly and with out hesitation, he grabbed my waist and spun me around to face the dark brick wall. 

He pushed up against my ass, pressing my hands into the wall, his back pinning against mine as he whispered into my ear. 

‘This isn’t just fucking, and I think you know that.’ He said as he roughly lifted the bottom of my dress up. I wiggled my ass in order for the tight fabric to lift up. 

I felt his hands cup my ass and he let his fingers graze down inbetween my legs. 

He used his foot to gently kick my legs open, leaving my ass exposed entirely. His callused fingers swipped up my folds, making my whole-body tense as I fought the urge to press my legs together to relieve the burning feeling between my legs.

I could feel his cock hardening as he pressed against me, causing me to involuntarily grinding against him. He let out an exasperated sigh. 

His fingers pulled apart my folds, exposing my throbbing clit to his hands, allowing him access to me. He rubbed circles into my clit, sending shocks of pure bliss through my stomach. 

‘Does anyone ever touch you like this? Does your little friend touch you right here like I do?’ Growling into my ear as his fingers rubbed insistently, pulling at my building orgasm. 

My breath quickened as he did so, only able to let out low whimpers and moans. 

‘Answer me or I’ll stop, Jasmine…say it.’ He whispered. His voice drawing me closer and closer to the edge. My hands gripped at the empty walls while my legs worked to not squirm. 

‘No Tommy…nobody ever touches me like you do…’ My voice cracking as I tried to muster up enough energy to talk. 

I felt his wicked smile spread across my neck as his pace quickened again, sending me spiraling. I didn’t realize it, but his naked cock was fully hard, pressed against my ass now, his pants pulled down to his knees. 

Without warning, I felt as he slid his member down my ass and inbetween my pussy before plunging into me fully. I gasped loudly, catching my breath as he pushed roughly into my tight hole. My walls tightened around every inch of him as he thrusted his hips dipped in and out of me. I felt his hands lift up my waist and I prepared for him to fuck me senseless. I felt so fucking consumed by him. His presence consumed me. I never wanted this feeling to end.

He grabbed both of my arms, pinning them behind my back as he used my body, not holding back his aggression as he chased his own orgasm greedily, other hand still working at my clit. 

The sensation of his hand rubbing my center and his cock moving in and out of me was all too much. 

I pressed my cheek into the bricks to keep my balance as my hands were pressed behind me. 

‘Nobody can fuck you like I can, isn’t that right? Nobody knows what this little cunt needs, but me.’ He growled out as his thrust became sloppier. His words just egged me on, pushing me closer and closer to my own release. 

‘Tommy please! Please make me cum Tommy…’ You almost yelled out to him. 

Just then, he pulled out harshly, leaving you feeling so empty without him inside of you. 

He turned me around to face him and bent down to lift me up by my ass, pinning my back against the wall. 

His cock found its way back into my tiny wet pussy as he lowered me down onto him. I wrapped my hands around his warm neck as I braised myself. My eyes fell shut as I let out a loud moan, my legs wrapped around his sides as my dress clung above my waist. 

‘Then say it. Tell me you’re mine. Tell me who this pussy belongs to now.’

My eyes shot open to meet his as I bounced up and down on his cock, my hair falling into his face as he effortlessly moved my ass up and down on his cock to his own rhythm.

‘It’s yours Thomas…It’s always been yours. I’ve always been yours…’ I cried out, holding onto his neck for dear life as his cock was splitting me open. I hadn’t been fucked good like this in so long and he was the only person who could give me what I needed.

His mouth hung open and his heavy panting continued on. His hand wiggled between my legs to attack my clit again, fucking into me hard as he did so. 

‘Cum around me Jasmine, do it.’ He commanded. He could tell I was close and I knew he was as well. 

His forehead fell onto mine as he watched my face contort in pleasure as I finally came hard around his cock. My wet velvety walls gripped him even tighter, bringing him to the same warm ecstasy. 

We both whmpered into each other as we came undone simultaneously. 

I watched as his eyes filled with pure bliss and relief, like he had been waiting for this all day. His brows furrowed as I felt his hot liquid fill my insides completely. 

His cock twitched as I felt him finally soften inside of me, pulling out of me, letting my legs fall down to the floor again. 

Cheeks flushed and hair completely dishelveld, he looked me up and down before adjusting himself into his pants once again. 

I could barely catch my breath, I didn’t move, still exposed to him. 

He noticed my frozen expression. Gently, he kissed me as he took the initiative to pulled my dress back down and cup my face with his hands. 

As he pulled away, he smiled with satisfaction, his eyes heavy. I pushed the strands of hair that fell in his face back as I let my hand trail down his soft pale skin. 

‘I missed you today.’ He whispered, twiddiling his fingers into mine softly. The sudden display of affection from him warmed my insides, he was never so loving, so gentle. 

‘Couldn’t stay away, could ya?’ I chuckled, wiggling out from under him, dragging him out of the dark hallway towards the music.

‘Now you owe me a dance, Mr. Shelby.’ 

#thomas shelby #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby smut #peaky blinders x reader #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby #peaky blinders #cillian murphy #thomas shelby smut #thomas shelby fanfic

[erenspussy420]

Android Au TWST pt3

You knew what you wanted to see, after all it’s exactly what brought you here in the beginning. To this odd fancy shop, looking something like a gothic romantics dream, its odd mosaic tiles and the faint smell of wood and metal. You turn to the giddy Owner, who’s eyes look bright behind her pink mask as she waits for you as patiently as she could. 

Which isn’t much seeing how the tip of her heels drag back and forth into the carpet of the floor. 

“I want to see the Pomefiore Collection,” You tell her, pointing to the halls past the painted murals of twisted apple tree’s. The manager, who’s name you should care to check their name tag, nods eagerly. She tucks away her duster into her dress, leaving no dent of it.

She swings her hands towards the halls in a grand gesture,” Right this way! This way! Here you’ll see quite the beauties that not even Royal Sword Automation can boast about!” She trills like a bird, already having her hand behind your back not touching you but still urging you into the hall.

You wisely keep your mouth shut about the Neige Unit. You only saw pictures of the Vil Unit, and God, someone must have been in a good mood to make him. The Vil Unit is notoriously expensive, and you heard of people even willing to get into debt for him, not that you could understand. Really what android is worth that pain? 

Biting your lip in excitement as you pass the murals of apple groves, at some point the budget of this company comes true as the tree branches emerge slowly out of the walls of the hall— now it feels like a small forest. As the leaves look glossy and true, branches touching you remind you of hands. At some point the hall ends at heavy doors, a bit dramatic but it adds flavor to the anticipation of the androids of Pomefiore. 

The manager pats her dress, looking and peeking into her clothes as if trying to find something. You wait patiently, but you have to admit the manager is scatterbrained. The Owner mumbles in wonder, looking into her sleeves and her apron finding nothing but lint and her invoices. She pats her hair in distress but feeling a bump in her bun, she lets out a loud triumphant cry.

“Oh! I found it! Silly me!” she giggles pulling a golden key, slim and with an odd oval handle, out of her hair bun. You grimace seeing she had to tug it  out.

“Ow! Okay, prepare to be amazed!” The manager speaks in her grand voice, with you politely clapping. ”Here the beauties of Pomefiore have no rivals! The amazing trio!”

With a soft click of the door, the loud creaks of the heavy doors give way to soft wisps of purple smoke, the room was dark with a faint gleam of marble pillars. Unlike the lower floor displays, these glass cases lay flat, their androids resting with their hands over their chests like a display of the sleeping soundly in their glowing coffins that glitter. In a way, you are reminded of the stories of sleeping princesses hidden in towers, awakened by true love’s kiss. In the darkness of the room, deep indigo tapestries hung above them, an apple, a bow, and a crown.

The manager watches you walk with a dazed look in your eyes as you find yourself drawn to the coffin-like display, glass with lights beneath, soft as the first snow. Staring at the display of a sweet face android, hair like lavender strewn across his pillow, eyes shut with lashes longer than your nails and soft pink lips. His clothes are like a kimono, like you say as there is an obvious difference in its style, with black sleeves covering his hands. His slim hands crossed over his waist with apple blossoms held between his hands. You wanted to see his eyes but that would be creepy to demand.

So you settle looking over him, wondering about his eyes, almost forgetting yourself as you touch the glass that felt warm. As you stare at them you don't hear the faint noise of metal squeaking.

“Oh! The Epel Felmier unit!” a sudden voice said way too close to your ear.

“Shit!” You yelp, frightened from the Owner suddenly appearing next to you. Scrambling, you push yourself off the poor androids display, looking at the manager with disdain. “A little bit of a warning would be nice!”

The manager shakes her hands rapidly,”My bad! I couldn’t help but notice your interest in the Epel Felmier Unit! Now let me tell you something about this short beauty, despite his cute looks he’s quite the little hot head!"

That, you can believe, as any short guy would be.

"Hard working, and willing to do just about any manly work,” She flexes her arms,” not to mention his units have been known to participate in the Harveston farming community, as a popular choice of android. A natural harvester and perfect unit for a cute sled date."

“So….a farm boy?” You ask, looking over him, and in a little awe you can spot soft delicate freckles splattered over his nose and cheeks. They're faint on his smooth 'skin' but noticeable, truly an art of the androids creators.

Even someone like yourself who lacks magic, can feel its faint pulse as they charge.

“Has the accent mode installed too!” The Owner then nudges her head to the other glowing glass case, where a taller unit is laid, in its case. Reluctantly you come to it. You can see high cheekbones, sharp with a more warmer complexion and a slight tan, his bob cut hair the color of dandelions that gently rest against the nape of his neck. Unlike the Epel unit, this one looks sturdy, his body lean but you can tell more fit with a muscular build.

" Here is the inspiration of the loyal huntsman of the Beautiful Queen. The Rook Hunt Unit! Loyal to its owner! Do you need a companion in the mountains or even your own personal ranger? Then the Hunt unit is for you. This deadly beauty is certified by most environmental rangers, and has been recommended by most outdoorsmen for those who want a guide or maybe if you are a fellow poet. Your own, admiring huntsman."

She winks as she looks down on the sleeping android. You don't blame her. Looking past his bob cut, even you had to admit there is a handsomeness to his looks, the curve of his sharp eyes closed and the dark lashes that grace his cheek bones. His lips are a bit thin, but look plump to kiss.

Unlike Epel, he held a hat that didn't match the scheme of his clothes. A brown hunter hat with a long white feather that curls. However it was his hands that rested on it that took you. Beautifully crafted, long fingers to knock bows, the grooves of his fingers and you can make a soft bump where he notches his arrows. Large hands and you can imagine what he can hold in them.

"Please stop touching the glass," The Owner pipes up, a bottle of winex in hand," it gets hard to get off."

Embarrassed, you clear your throat brushing your hair as the squeaky cleaning is done. You looked at the last coffin and felt your skin rise. 

Stepping close, almost afraid, you could see him.

The Vil Unit.

If the other two were beautiful in a delicate or handsome sort of way then Vil was another level. There is a grace he was molded in, the curve of his jaw cutting yet a softness with it. The sharp shape of his eyes, yet there is a soft roundess brought by his long lashes. His hair a pale blond shade bordering white with oddly enough a soft ombre of purple at the tips of his hair. Long and braided back into a bun with a graceful twist, a gold decorated crown seated around him with hearts. Like the other two he wore his kimono inspired dress, his hands clasped together, soft and long with sharp painted nails. Even with no makeup he was breathtaking.

You didn't pay attention to the clearing noise of the Owner as you pressed into the glass in wonder.

Vil looked beautiful, a sleeping Queen instead of a prince surrounded by light of the fake flowers in his glass, the pink tint of his lips making them look so…so..

"Soft," you murmur over his face.

"Ahem!" You're pulled out of your trance as the Owner pulls you back, her friendly grin gone."Sorry, but no kissing the display case!"

An ungodly wheeze leaves you when you realize you're practically about to smooch the glass display. Face practically hot and sweaty, you turn away immediately embarrassed.

"I'm so so so sorry!" You apologize, stumbling over to the owner," I didn't-! I uh, this is so embarrassing!"

Feeling merciful the Owner sighs and begins to walk over with a winex bottle in hand and a towel she had on hand somewhere. "It's alright, you aren't the first one to try that," She sighs as she depressingly cleans Vil's display," this android gets more action than all of us."

That's oddly depressing, you think but you have no room to talk since you just tried to smooch the display.

Wiping down Vil's coffin, the Owner pipes up with a much warmer voice," As you can already tell Vil is our top best seller, a legacy android of the Schoenheit line, a popular model with both young and older groups. Whatever you want, an actor, a singer or even a trainer, Vil can do it. He's the best of the best, and can make anyone beautiful under his certified guided hands. As are most of our unit have been certified in their respective groups and for our customers' health."

"Oh! I know how handsome he is! Vil's tend to trend more!" Gushing over him, she looks at you with a more sympathetic look.

"Just looking at you, you might not be able to afford him but that's okay, he's too good for us both." She said assuring you.

"What! I can afford him!" You said defensively. Your bank account says otherwise but you will not acknowledge that or the loans.

"Yes of course!" She claps her hands rapidly like some golfer groupie," Customer can afford our brand lines like Vil!"

Oh, oh this owner! Annoyed, you look over Vil's display case to see how expensive and exclusive he must be just to see if you can pay it off in payments. Taking a glance at the pricing, your abruptly turn around on your heel and squeak," So about those other units!"

The Owner brightens and begins showing you out of the Pomefiore room and out into the dark hall.

Vil would have broken you.

#twst android au #android au #twisted wonderland #reader x twst #rook hunt #rook hunt x reader #rook hunt twisted wonderland #twst epel #epel felmier #epel x you #vil shoenheit x reader #vil schoenheit #twst vil

[boygiwrites]

Living the Vida Loca   Ep.

•  Jesse Pinkman & Reader. (Platonic)

(Here’s part one.)     (Here’s part two.) (Here’s part three.) (Here’s part four.) (Here’s part five.)

• (Find this story on Ao3.)

Summary — A short story about how a young teenaged girl gets wrapped up in Jesse's life.

Notes — Phew. The epilogue. Please enjoy :)

.

Bear Creek, Alaska.

The first thing you do when Jesse gets the keys to your new apartment is throw your bags on the floor and run around, poking your heads into all the rooms, pulling open all the kitchen cabinets, and laying like a pair of starfish on the bland carpet of the bedrooms.

Holy shit, you laugh.

Holy shit, Jesse laughs.

You lay there for a long time, waiting for your new lives to feel real.

Saul Goodman really missed out on being a real estate agent.

He picked the perfect apartment.

It’s got heating, for when the cold becomes colder.

It’s got two bathrooms, with an elephant’s worth of space in each.

It’s got spacious wardrobes that will eventually be filled with band shirts and beanies and thick, woolly socks, and a fireplace that with time becomes a mantle for you to frame your little polaroid's on, turning fleeting flashes into permanent memories above the cozy flames.

It’s got everything.

The first week goes by fast.

You’re on a high and you won’t come down.

You and Jesse have become avid thrift shoppers in the wake of your old riches, determined to fill out your home with bits and bobs; knicks and knacks. On every second corner of this mountainous town, there’s a second-hand store bursting with charm. Oh, and someone’s grandpa’s collection of Christmas sweaters. 

(Yes, Jesse buys one.)

You also buy a toaster, some sofa cushions, and a big, green blanket that will be perfect for your movie nights. You hit three more on your way back.

You also go bananas in the local supermarket.

You sit in the cart and swipe almost every cookie and frozen lasagna you can off the shelves, while Jesse hops on and scoots you both around.

Your fridge looks like an overstuffed suitcase.

You use the town library to print off a couple resumes, and some hours later, you re-converge at the same parking lot you started out in, and you both run up to each other and shout —

I got the job!

When the population is as small is Bear Creek’s, anything is possible.

You become a cashier at the supermarket.

Jesse starts bussing tables at a small steak-and-chips restaurant.

(They let him spray-paint a mural onto the side of the building. It takes three whole days and two broken ladders, but it’s beautiful, and Jesse walks around now with compliments on his shoulders and a pep in his step.)

The first week goes by fast.

A blur of shopping, moving furniture, and movie nights.

Two kids in a candy store.

Then, after that  —

It’s the slow and steady Bear Creek lifestyle.

The slow Bear Creek lifestyle.

Everybody knows everybody in Bear Creek.

The elderly clerk at the corner store knows the man who walks in with his dog, and the man with the dog knows the lady from the bookshop down the street, and the lady from the bookshop knows you, and you know the guy who busks outside the library, and the busker-guy knows Jesse, and it just keeps going in circles, circles, circles, until it’s all a big web.

Some years ago, you might have perceived this as danger.

You might have perceived this community as a reactive entanglement of whispers, and stares, and one rogue phone call to the wrong people.

But one thing Bear Creek teaches you is how to let go.

How to let go of glancing over your shoulder.

How to let go of peeking out the windows at night.

How to let go of these things that have shaped you into something sharper than what you really are. The person you used to be.

The same goes for Jesse.

For a month, he tucks a gun in his pants-line.

He smokes cigarettes while he scrutinizes your new IDs.

Isaac and Riley Miller.

He has three different phones, and refuses to text anybody except you.

You can hear him, in the night, checking on you from your doorway, like you might’ve disappeared in the ten minutes he’s been in the other room.

It’s difficult, because old dogs can’t learn new tricks, but Jesse gets better.

He’s safe enough, now, to revert back to that teenage boy he’s always been at heart, even if he is twenty-nine years old.

You build lop-sided snowmen together in the apartment complex’s parking lot, and pelt each other with snowballs. It’s a parallel image to your nights back in New Mexico, throwing frisbees in the driveway, except with two completely different people who look like you and Jesse, but have been through and seen so much more.

You go for walks and shit, like normal, healthy people.

The DVD store becomes a second home for you.

You drink hot chocolate out on the balcony and argue over who got more marshmallows while you people-watch.

You take your sleds down to the edge of the forest, and you coast down the tall mounds of snow and hoot into the trees like happy children.

Some nights, you lay in bed and wonder about your old life. Are there ghosts of you, back home? Do people think of you?

Some days, it’s hard to keep looking forward.

There are just some things you will never be able to forget. Some things you will never be able to look at with the same eyes as everybody else.

Like how all meat looks like sheep guts.

And all flies come with a flash of dead eyes.

And how sometimes, when Jesse reaches to hold your hand, you’re back in that desert and you’re being grabbed, pinned, and shot.

The days are slow, and they give you time.

Sure, the apartment is nice and all, but Jesse’s always been your home.

He’s always there to pet and shush away the nightmares.

He’s there when you need him, and he’s not when you need space.

He’s a familiar face. 

He’s family. 

He’s your twin, trapped in the same echo of an old nightmare you survived together. He’s someone who knows what you’re thinking whenever you see a grate in the ground, or a bucket, or a paperclip. He understands.

The days in Bear Creek are slow.

You spend them painting, laughing, exploring, and living.

It’s sort of like buying new shoes.

Uncomfortable, at first, but then it learns to work around you —

And everything is easy-peasy from there on out.

A visit from Uncle Goodman.

Jimmy has a thick moustache, and he can’t handle the cold.

These are the first things you notice when he shows up at your door, with that strip of carpet above his lip and the three coats he’s shivering in.

You’re in shock. Jimmy?

He is not. Are you gonna let me in, you little punk, or what?

He says he is freezing his nuts off. 

Jimmy McGill is in your living room. He’s shed all his layers, toed off his boots, and apparently, he’s jet-lagged, so he helps himself to your coffee machine like he’s lived here all his life. You stare at him while he sips it.

There’s an awkward silence.

I thought I’d never see you again, you mutter, at this version of an old memory you forced yourself to forget, currently standing in your kitchen.

Jimmy sets the mug down.

He looks like he tries to say something, but then he just opens his arms.

You hug him for the first time in four years.

You’re an adult, now.

He must sense this change in you, not just physically but mentally, because when he pulls back, he doesn’t want to let go, and he’s just looking at you and crying, which looks wrong on a guy like Jimmy.

Why’d you have to go and get all grown up on me, huh?

Then he demands that you tell him everything.

You demand he tell you everything, because, How’d you even find us?

He says he knows a man who knows everything about everyone; someone who can make fake IDs and people disappear. He says it’s how you’re living out here, and you’re reminded of the night you were herded into the back of an electronics store and given a new name.

Jimmy helped you and Jesse out in the beginning, but only as a voice through a phone line, and then as an invisible force pulling strings.

Even when he’s 2,800 miles away, Jimmy’s been there for you.

You tell him about Hank Schrader and Steve Gomez.

You tell him about the phone call, and the sheep guts.

Then you try telling him about the desert, and the Welkers, but your voice gets caught in your throat like a fish hook, and he suggests going for a walk instead.

You trail the sidewalks until you bump into Jesse.

He’s on his way home from work, and when he sees you, he almost faints.

Yo, yo, yo, hang on a second, His mouth hangs open. 

You giggle while they take each other in.

They even do a bro-hug, because Jesse does things like that, now.

He tells Jimmy that the apartment kicks ass, man, and that he can’t believe he flew all the way up here just to see you guys.

Hey, man, Jimmy holds up his hands, I just came here for the waterfalls and the moose. You people were second-to-last on my itinerary.

You both tell Jimmy to shove it, and then you walk together to the park.

Just like old times, right? Jimmy asks you.

These are nothing like old times, but you got your two favorite people in the world back together again — your weird little family — so that has to count for something.

Whatever you say, You chuckle.

You see a fire-colored fox sniffing along the frozen lake while you talk about everything that’s changed; everything that’s happened. The people you’ve become. You cry again when Jimmy says he’s proud of you, and Jesse gives you a hard noogie for being such a sap.

Apparently, Jimmy’s staying in Bear Creek for a while.

Today’s a good day.

The final piece.

You graduate college in May.

It’s been a long struggle, but you made it.

Jimmy’s there.

Jesse’s there.

Your friends are all there, too, in matching gowns and caps.

You hear your name, Riley Miller, being called, and you step up to the podium with the overwhelming sense of metamorphosizing from one cold husk of a life into a newer, brighter one. One where you have a new name and a new home, but the same old family cheering for you in the crowd.

You can’t believe how much everything has changed.

For one, Jesse shaved all his hair off, ‘cause he’s an idiot.

At least one thing makes you laugh every day, now.

(It’s usually Jesse shouting bitch at your Xbox, or Jimmy complaining about the people he works with, down at the Cinnabon, because the only young person he can stand to be around is you.)

It’s been a year since you last had a nightmare.

You’re back to walking dogs again.

You’re back to singing in the kitchen.

You moved into the apartment next to Jesse’s, and he tells you every day how much he doesn’t miss finding your dirty dishes in the sink. But you know he hates that you’ve grown up so fast. He comes around for dinner almost every single night, swaddled in that big, green blanket you bought when you first landed in Alaska, and you’ve upgraded from watching Tinkerbell to old Disney movies. He cries every time at Lion King.

Jimmy lives ten minutes away, in a proper but small house.

You know there’s days where he yearns to live on that same pillar of glory he had back in New Mexico.

He plans on heading back to the states in the coming months.

He says he’ll miss the crisp air, and the caribou, and watching the snow roll over the caps of white mountains while he eats breakfast croissants with you in quiet cafes, but it’s just not in his nature to stay in one place for too long. You can’t trap a butterfly in a bird cage.

Besides, he’s basically the poster child for burner phones.

He’ll find a way to contact you.

That skatepark seems like a million years ago.

You throw your cap in the air.

Now when you spend nights at Jesse’s place, ‘cause the two of you are like teenage girls obsessed with sleepovers, and you warm yourself up by the fireplace, there’s one more photo sitting there, now.

 Dead center. Ceramic frame.

The final piece of the puzzle.

It’s you, holding your degree and laughing while the sun blooms on your shoulder, with Jimmy and Jesse on either side of you, throwing up rock-star hands like they’re at the sickest concert they’ve ever been to.

You smile to yourself.

Because you love those fucking idiots.

And they love you, too.

End notes  — Oh my God! The epilogue, it’s finished!! I hope you enjoyed reading, and I hope I was able to wrap this up in a satisfying way. Thank you for reading, everyone :)

#Breaking Bad #breakingbad #daddy issues #jesse pinkman #jesse pinkman x reader #fanfic #reader #saul goodman

[kariachi]

Have some chill fic. The team stop for lunch after work.

~~

“Um, Kev?”

“Yeah?”

“I thought we were going home?”

“After we eat.” The Tennysons shared a look as Kevin parked the car in front of a small, nondescript building on the outskirts of one the small towns they sometimes found themselves driving through. There was an outlet mall-style cheap sign on the front declaring it ‘Joe’s Pit’, picnic tables to one side with some patrons seated, and plywood cut-outs of various farm animals against the walls- one of which had ‘I’m beefalicious’ on it in a child’s scrawl. They could hear dogs barking when they stepped out onto the seemingly recently paved parking lot, and smell wood smoke lingering in the air.

Neither Ben nor Gwen seemed overly impressed.

“We have restaurants back in Bellwood, you know,” Ben pointed out as they headed for the door. Kevin just rolled his eyes.

“This place has five stars on DynaDine,” he said, “and apparently some great fucking lamb and mutton.”

“Who barbecues lamb,” Gwen asked, face screwing as she shared another look with her cousin.

“Too damn few people.”

A bell over the door rung as they entered. Maybe five tables, three of them occupied, took up most of the room, aside from a single counter in the front. The walls were covered in tin cut-outs of farm animals and equipment, photos of various people, some framed some not, and a mural in the back of a man driving a horse-drawn sleigh full of food that had very clearly originally been of Santa Claus. Some country song about gambling was playing, and a big posterboard sign behind the counter declared No Take Out. At the counter was a woman old enough to be their mothers, with a green streak in her hair and a broad grin on her face.

“Hey, how’s it going? I’m Maggie and welcome to Joe’s Pit! Eating in or heading out?”

“Oh, like he’d let food in the car,” Ben said, rolling his eyes and dodging an elbow to the side.

“Hey Maggie!” Kevin threw on a smile like there’d been no commentary. “It’s going good but, we haven’t eaten in at least an hour so…” Maggie laughed.

“Well, we can certainly fix that problem here,” she said, grabbing three paper menus out of a stack. “Any food issues going on?”

“He can’t have peanuts, I can’t have strawberries, and I keep kosher.”

“Alright.” She nodded and grabbed up a marker, popping the cap off with her teeth. “You’re not gonna want these then,” she said as she crossed various items off on one of the menus, “no pork, no dairy.”

“That’s right,” Kevin said with a nod, “and nothing off the ass half of the cow.”

“And nothing from the back end… You’re not gonna want these either, the blueberry sauce has some strawberry to balance it out and the chocolate berry strudel has ‘em too.” Handing the menu off to Kevin, she started work on a second. “And you’re gonna want to avoid some of these desserts. We don’t make ‘em on site, they’re from The Flour Shop in town- left at the third intersection on Main, right at the second turn, you’ll know it when you see it- but some of ‘em Amy likes to put peanuts in for I swear no reason at all.”

“Thanks,” Ben said as he accepted the menu, all of them chuckling. Final menu in hand, Maggie turned her attention to Gwen, who put up a hand.

“I can eat anything,” she said with a smile and a laugh from Maggie.

“Saves me some trouble then,” she said as Gwen took the paper. “You kids gonna eat in here, or sit outside?”

“Yeah, about that,” Ben said, a frown coming over his face, “do you guys have dogs?”

“Oh,” Maggie said, “don’t mind them, they’re loud but they’re friendly, and they can’t get out of their run. There should be plenty of seating away from it if you prefer.” Nodding, the Tennysons looked at each other, gesturing like they were trying to telepathically decide where they were going to sit. Kevin and Maggie watched for several seconds before he just rolled his eyes.

“We’re sitting outside.” The cousins frowned at him, visibly put out that he’d taken charge without them, while Maggie nodded.

“Alright then, I’ll be out to get your orders in a few minutes.”

“Great,” Kevin said, taking a step back that prompted the cousins to head back for the door, “thanks Maggie.”

“Not a problem.”

The bell chimed again as they left, Gwen leading the way as they hooked a hard right towards the tables.

“You know,” Ben said, eyes mostly on the paper in his hand, “I don’t think there’s a single smoothie on this menu.”

“Oh no,” came Kevin’s deadpan response, “the horror.”

True to Maggie’s word, as they entered the picnic area a fenced off spot between the tables and the pits came into view. There were three large dogs inside it, each of which could have been an example image for ‘mutt’ on Wikipedia and each of which was losing their minds barking at them. It was a point of particular focus as they scanned for a place to sit.

“So…” Gwen said, and Kevin shrugged.

“I don’t know about you guys, I like dogs.”

“So we’re sitting by them,” Ben said in a tone somewhere between teasing and griping.

“I’m sitting by them, I don’t know what you guys are doing.” With a sigh and an eye roll Gwen started for the table nearest the chainlink, Kevin smiling brightly at her.

“Why are we going along with this,” she asked.

“Because every time we stop somewhere to eat you guys outvote me,” Kevin said, “and I want lamb, so I’m vetoing your asses.” Shaking her head, she smiled back at him.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Trust me, I know.”

The benches on the picnic table were worn smooth, with just the slightest divots where people had sat over and over for however many years it had taken for the thing to turn grey and split at the ends. It was more comfortable than either Tennyson seemed to have expected, and they found themselves relaxing as they sat down. Helping was the fact the dogs stopped barking as soon as Kevin took a seat within arm’s length, instead falling to whining for attention and licking at his fingers as he stuck them through the fence to scratch at their muzzles.

“Don’t think I’ve had actual barbeque since I stopped playing baseball,” Ben noted as he and Gwen started properly scanning their menus. Both ignored Kevin’s sole focus on not-quite baby talking the dogs.

“Emily’s brought back leftovers from a date night one time we have a sleepover,” Gwen said, “and I think that’s the only time I’ve had it.” Face twisting, Ben gaped at her.

“How have you not had barbeque except for one time,” he said. “Kevin’s had enough to have opinions and he hasn’t had shit in life!”

“Mom doesn’t like it,” she said with a shrug. “She doesn’t even like it when dad puts barbeque sauce on grilled chicken.”

“My cousin,” Ben said, shaking his head, “has been deprived. Here-” He leaned over the table to point at an item on her menu. “-grab the combo, some ribs, some chicken, some beef.”

“No lamb,” she said with a smirk, pulling a snicker from Ben.

“If Kevin doesn’t drop some on our plates I’ll be shocked.”

“Alright, alright, I’ll get the combo. Maybe some coleslaw and macaroni. What are you grabbing?”

“I’ve never had a beef rib before, might grab that. Don’t know about sides.”

“Grab the fruit skewer,” Gwen said. Ben raised an eyebrow at her. “I just noticed it, it looks good.” Leaning back in his seat, Ben scanned the menu again.

“How about this, you get the fruit, I’ll get the macaroni, and we can all split one of this chocolate mini bundt cake they’ve got down here.”

“Sounds good to me…”

True to her word, it didn’t take too long for Maggie to come out and track them down, chuckling at Kevin’s intense focus on playing with the dogs right up until Gwen tugged on his sleeve.

“You kids ready to order or can I just get you some drinks,” she asked as Kevin finally took a look at the menu, kind enough to look to Gwen first.

“I’d like an ice tea please,” she said, “with the combo plate, some coleslaw, and one of these fruit skewers.”

“Alright,” Maggie said as she noted it down, “and what do you want on your plate? You can get up to three smoked meats.”

“Can I get the chicken quarter, some spare ribs, and some brisket?”

“Sure thing.” Ben checked the menu again as she turned to him.

“Actually, can I get the burnt ends? With two things of macaroni.”

“Yes, you can. And will you be getting a drink too?” He beamed up at her, setting his menu aside.

“Yeah, a coke’d be great.”

“Okay.” With a quick note, she turned finally to Kevin. “And are you ready?”

“I need the lamb leg,” he said with a nod, “some mutton ribs, and some brisket-”

“If I’d known he was buying the restaurant…”

“-and can I get the corn and veggie skewer for sides?” Chuckling, Maggie took down his order.

“Will those be per meat order, or do you just want the one each?”

“Per order, I’m all my money’s paying for.”

“Smart guy,” she said. “And your drink?”

“A lemonade.”

“Alright then.” Pencil in hand, she counted off everything as she listed them. “One iced tea with combo plate- chicken quarter, spare ribs, and brisket, fruit skewer and coleslaw on the side. One coke with beef ribs, two macaronis on the side. One lamb, one mutton, and one brisket, with three corn, three veggie skewers, and a lemonade. I get everything?”

“If we could have one of those mini bundt cakes too,” Ben added, “the chocolate one?”

“And one chocolate bundt cake.” Still smiling at them, Maggie waited for them all to nod approval before dropping her clipboard to her side. “Alright, I’ll have the drinks out to you in a minute, and your food’ll take a bit longer.”

“Okay,” Kevin said, Gwen quickly following with a-

“Thanks.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll be right back.”

Politely, they waited until she had walked away before the cousins rounded on Kevin.

“‘An hour’,” Ben said, grinning as he teased, “dude, have you eaten today?!”

“You don’t see lamb and mutton often,” came the rebuttal alongside a shrug and a smile of Kevin’s own, “I’ve gotta make the most of it.”

“We are not splitting the bill evenly this time,” Gwen laughed, “not a chance.”

“Oh yeah, the one time it’s me instead of Ben upping the charge,” Kevin said, gesturing between the two of them with feigned offense.

“He ups it by like ten bucks, you upped it by thirty.”

“At least,” Ben added, turning to Gwen. “Did you see that part of the menu? I didn’t look, because I care about not spending all our money-”

“I’m not deaf, Ben, I know you were expecting me to share.”

“You’re going to have to- three meals, you won’t be able to fit behind the wheel, we’ll be stuck here overnight.”

“You seriously underestimate me and my car.” Smiling, Gwen shook her head.

“I’m just worried you’re going to rupture something.” Grinning back, Kevin slung an arm around her shoulders and strained to watch Maggie returning with two glasses and a soda can over Ben’s head.

“Well then, you two are just gonna have to try some lamb then, aren’t you?”

~~

It was with groans of satisfaction and stomachs just on the non-painful side of stuffed that they all dropped back into the car, Kevin fitting perfectly fine despite Ben’s teasing.

“I need to bring Julie out here at some point,” Ben said as he adjusted his seatbelt, Gwen looking about ready to take a nap in front of him.

“I vote we make a bi-monthly thing,” she said, “every other week, double date, for the rest of our lives.”

In the driver’s seat, Kevin took advantage of their distraction to pull out his phone, opening up DynaDine and leaving a quick review before they got back on the road.

K11- Subscribed User, Non-Visible Mutations, Food Restrictions Friendly, accommodating service, great food, large portions, cute dogs. 5/5 must visit location. Make sure to get the lamb.

#fanfic #ben 10 #yes i'm tagging

[thepoeticbubble]

Here the world wakes up, the sky unfolds, the clouds unclog like active acne, bloody hearts throb with a heaviness, salts seep in, amidst the freezed viens and cemented bones , everything is solid from the outside but gnawed from behind.

Infront of our house,few miles ahead there used to be a lake, the lake is orphaned , the stream about to be silenced , the birds about to be subjugated by thirst, the skin about to be parched.

I grow timid at prepositions else there's more to describe, what's beneath, behind,infront and after you. theres more to envision through imagery , but I can't figure out how to photograph it in words.i cant put everything in language even if I want to, I can't bake poetry everytime ,the oven of mind gets in distress ,sometimes the chimney doesn't clear the smoke off efficiently enough that I can cook the next prose. i wish someone would arrive and let open the windows to bring gush of fresh air without intervening my thoughts ,you will be Noticed not by my eyes but heart .

But my door bell doesn't ring anymore, its throat is lacerated and I don't think anyone visits here either, so it could make even the faintest sound.

It's not like city is out of stock , there is a plethora people but I think I exist remotely.

On days , I yearn to fix the bell but the thought of not being visited deliberately seems more repulsive , so I let the broken door bell follow the code of conduct ~ somebody might have tried to reach me but ughhh curse this doorbell

It is unjust for Inanimate things that surround me,dismembered by the loudness of my Grievances , sinking in a air of loneliness. I never ask them if they are fine because what if the reply is blasphemous.

But Some day some one will knock for sure, and i don't intend to send them back without a cup of tea , send them off annoyed by the smell of flashbacks of burning bread crumbs in fire , I intent to offer hospitality.

So, I mop the floor of my heart, scrubb off the dizziness , measure the diameter to have an idea of space left empty , I could be clear enough but why should I, I estimate the entire fleshy landscape is vacant and not even one thirty-sixth of yard is available in yours, I don't expect you to evaluate my measurements, how would the world care if my sound echos paradoxically, my thoughts appear convoluted , my mind a labyrinth where people stray in search of an exit but are Incapable of , where hope sits aloof and inert .

Here the walls are painted red with a mural that pictures thin blue branches stretching in and out the blind walls. Certain fissures depict that this framework has been susceptible to severe earthquakes from years.

In between the cracks, love's left a goodbye letter , an unredeemable heart ache , a kiss of death , verses of ill-omen never to be read by these fragile lips of life.

The realisation jolts my consciousness in exceedingly high S.I units that i decide to depart as soon as possible.

The road is forlorn, no busses are on business, no one promises a lift to home. It's said when you are overwhelmed, you must reminiscent memoirs from your good books , like a thought that would pacify the quarrels of your mind.

I sit on bench nearby try to recollect my address, which doesn't pass on through my head and i feel defeated down to my bones again. The pickle is what people say should be done , doesn't really compensate for my troubles because to retrieve a congenial memory at times of crisis means to uproot the brain and implant a fictitious spray of dopamine without thinking, this quick aid of "not thinking" vigorously mocks at me.

So, I take my head in my hands to wave off the ridiculous resolutions and again count the shops that come in the way of my home.

The numbers do not stop because cities are always on display and to be found in a market is such a farce, you will sold for sale. I wonder if anyone else was this absurd while being on fright and flight mode~nonsence

The bats babble , you see no life in human form and you ought to get panicked in an amount never metered, the leaves clap and claw out your heart,a strange laughter comes from the wild and you are in the middle of road that doesn't have a board to assure you where you are. Your mind has no gps, and location was never mapped too. The lake has perhaps migrated flushing your home or the lake never existed.

So, to scream just for the sake of hopelessness that adheres you seems the only option. When the tears are about to be delivered, you are called by your mother and the glass shatters, you are home , pulled back from your nightmares

Hope is sometimes cloaked in hopelessness, the cry is made to reach to ears and that is what hope is, to subconsciously believe that your tears will be harvested even when you are in your worst dream, that you will be found from the unknown and unnamed roads.

Home is somewhere in the hearts of those who take this responsibility of holding your hand in times when your identity card is lost, those who come uncalled , those who won't let you be lost when you have lost the address, those who remember you .

Home is always nearby ,you are never estranged from it, just know that while you are fidgeting in your worries somebody is looking for you. Someone is searching you and someone's going to hug right after you are traced . You are homed in hearts that aren't dead

-tabish.j

#sad poetry #short story #books & libraries #dark acadamia aesthetic #story #poems on tumblr #haiku poem #authors #spilled poetry #love poem #spilled thoughts #aesthetic #pastel #literature

[maelwife]

There’s a mural on the wall of the smoke shop by my appt that’s cuphead but his head a styrofoam cup full of lean

[hmshermitcraft]

mst au parrrrt 7! but its not canon and also just lowkey angst.

alright, so the tldr on why scar is a villain is basically "fuck the hero association bc trauma" (there's more than that, but yk. secret backstories)

so imagine he like. successfully dismantles/kills/dethrones the MAIN people in charge. he's done, his objective is done. he's independent, he doesn't work for an organization, and he doesn't mind the heroes. (in reality, he commends what they do. most of them are good people, but it's annoying when he's trying to destroy a system they're unknowingly stuck in and they try to stop him. he doesn't blame them)

hotguy is a man of dramatics. explosions, fireworks, smoke bombs, and catchphrases are his lifeblood. so naturally, he has a dramatic retirement. maybe faking a death in front of a crowd the second he's not causing property damage is a bit far, but then he remembers he's done worse, so he's not too worried. (he is a villain after all, so who's rooting for him? besides, just because scar's alive, doesn't mean hotguy is.)

scar wasn't expecting the coverage it got. he knew he was a character, both beloved and loathed, but he didn't know just how big of an impact he made. but what he really didn't expect was to hear it in his kids' chatter during homeroom. he wasn't ready for the occasional "good riddance" or "such a shame." he wasn't ready for doc of all people to ask his opinion on the matter. he wasn't expecting cub- nonchalant, monotone cub to run up to him and hug him because his best friend thought he was dead

(he didn't hear the silent tears from canary and xelqua that night as the brothers clung to each other, nor the quiet gasp scott let out seeing him at the flower shop a week later. he didn't know the three of them would still manage to get together, but as jimmy, scar and scott, rather than canary, hotguy, and scott major. the universe is funny like that.)

-tn (i had to make it gay somehow, okay?)

Scar maybe didn't think through what it would actually be like to be dead. He can't argue slanderous statements anymore, and nor can he thank the people who argue against them for him.

He knows retirement was the right choice. He knows he would've never had peace if people suspected he was still alive. He can't keep lying to himself - his body is getting weaker. He's using his cane more days than not, now, and every time he went out as Hotguy was more and more of a risk. He wrapped up the things he needed and got out of there.

He just never expected the grief.

From people who knew him and people who didn't. He should have told Cub, sweet, sweet Cub, about his plan beforehand. Scar doesn't know if all the dinner invitations and coffee deliveries in the world will make it up to him.

He didn't expect the murals, the tributes, the way his death somehow turned people against the heroes in a way he'd never achieved before. Sure, the majority still hate him. But what do they matter, when he has the most important people right beside him?

But... Cub please stop getting into arguments about him on the internet. He'll stop buying him flowers, and that'll be sad for both of them! Because he wants an excuse to keep seeing the cute guy that works there!

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #ask #scar tag #cubfan tag #scott tag #majorsolidaritimes #tn anon #mod 🎀 #super mst au

[thatndginger]

Actually @writeintrees I am not quite done with talking about the Shapeshifter Coffeeshop AU, because I can't just leave anything alone lol

Side note: the coffeeshop au world is just our world. No magic or shapeshifters or anything, just cute vibes

The shop is called Salty Dog Cafe. It started out as a joke because Carlisle was a sailor on cargo ships in his twenties, but everyone loves the name. It's near one of the city's piers, yet another reason to embrace the name. The staff refer to themselves collectively as the 'dog pack', and it's a tradition to write what kind of dog you think you'd be on your nametag - or other animal, if a dog doesn't quite fit.

The logo is a scottish deerhound wearing one of those sou'wester hats and sporting an exaggerated beard and a smoking pipe. Warrick likes to hide the logo somewhere in window murals. Currently, the Instagram-follower favorite is one he did of the hound - wearing the hat and a yellow rainslicker - standing in a little boat and facing down a kraken. Occasionally Warrick'll swap the deerhound for another type of dog (one that a staff member has claimed) to see who notices.

The Salty Dog opens at 6am and stays open until 10 at night, which is how they have such a diverse array of regulars and the whole morning/evening shift thing. Whoever is the designated baker for the day usually gets in at about 5am to start in on the morning's goodies. Kerr' schedule usually means he's working the morning baker shift the first half of the week, then flips to evenings for the second half. No one knows how he manages this but he actually get annoyed if you try and put him on all mornings.

When the second location opens, Reese calls it the Salty Cat Cafe, and has Warrick make a second logo that depicts a grizzled persian cat in sou'wester hat and pipe. A friendly 'rivalry' between the dogs and cats is born shortly after - no one takes it too seriously though, it's all for fun and publicity. The baked goods at the Salty Cat are a lot 'tamer' than the Dog, owing to the fact that Kerr mainly works at the Dog and his protege Aleksei isn't nearly as good at coming up with gross-sounding-but-tasty recipes. Yet.

Warrick and Kerr do manage to convince Carlisle to get a liquor license for the Salty Dog (it doesn't take much convincing, honestly) and create an entire menu for it over the course of a few very long, very tipsy weeks. The drinks aren't actually that boozy, just enough to get the flavor and kick from the alcohol. Jay and Portia refuse to sell more than two to a single customer, insisting that they're baristas not bartenders. The cafe only sell this 'hard coffee' option after 5pm, and usually only on nights when there's live music in house. It's more of a novelty thing, honestly, but it draws business all the same.

As for the regulars...

While everyone is convinced that Adrien Montrose is part of the mafia, he's not. The Montrose family are business tycoons, and they may have some cutthroat business tactics, but they're not criminals. Adrien starts coming to the Salty Dog because he's the manager of one of the family's businesses nearby, and one of his staff recommended the cafe. He keeps coming because the coffee is actually really good, and he secretly enjoys the way Kerr 'haggles' him into buying some of the baked goods in the mornings.

(They started dating when Adrien came in one evening on a live music night and Kerr used the opportunity of a full house to corner Adrien and ask him if he was actually part of the mafia or not. Adrien used that as an opportunity to take Kerr on a date disguised as a 'come to this address and find out' challenge. They just ended up hooking up in Adrien's office. The animals.)

No one is aware that Adrien is a Montrose at first, and they definitely don't know that he and Lucas are related. Lucas only appears occasionally, almost always when he's made it his goal to make Adrien's day difficult. He's set to inherit the CEO title for the Montrose Group, and likes to make sure his youngest brother knows his place as a simple manager.

Along that line, while most of the Salty Cat staff are pretty sure Luka Kovac is a mafia enforcer or something, he's actually a giant nerd working at the local planetarium. He just looks scary as hell. He likes the cafe because it's quiet and has a cozy atmosphere, and someone on the staff keeps stocking the 'take one, leave one' bookcase with vintage sci-fi. He starts leaving his own sci-fi books in exchange, and slowly everyone catches on to the fact that he's just a giant, soft dork.

Calypso de la Fuente is a nightclub owner, which is why she only ever shows up in the hour or so before the Salty Dog closes. She'll only come in when she's had to be awake during the day for something, which happens every couple of weeks. Whoever is stuck making her horrifying twelve-shot, amaretto-drizzled monstrosity usually also has to navigate her trying-to-be-nice-but-too-tired-for-niceties conversation. Then she'll down half the drink on her way out the door and head to her club until the wee hours of the morning. She and Jay have definitely flirted with each other, but Calypso already has a girlfriend and Jay just likes flirting with terrifying women.

#shapeshifter coffeeshop au #i have way too much time on my hands lmao #and a very active imagination

[muddylotusv]

This is the actual first mural that my wife and I completed when we were still dating. We did this mural in Clearwater FL for the owners of Spark 8 Smoke Shop and Kava Lounge.

#rick and morty #abstract #painting #art #science fiction #Space #nebulas #galaxies #naruto #naruto fanart #naruto shippuden #predator #alien vs predator #muddy lotus #v #crvgtyp #alien worlds #monster #demon #creature #creature design #hp lovecraft #cthulhu #vice

[javamotion]

There used to be a mural of a cup of coffee and a train, they painted over it, now it’s a lifeless beige with smoke stains above the windows, the new owner of the building tried to burn it down, but nobody can prove it.

I have a friend who worked there, he remembers the old coffee shop too. He had to find a new job because the owner of the Bistro that now fills the space went on vacation, right after the kitchen burnt up. He’s not coming back, but nobody can prove that either.

#story #prose writing #true story #insurance fraud

[maxwinchxster]

the great things about buying my comics from an antique shop, is that most of them are from the early 80’s to early 00’s and ads back then were either badass or super fucking stupid. in one of my x men comics, i literally have an ad with nikki six on it, to promote this kids music toy, and on the next page there’s a poster that says “smoking tobacco is wacko if you’re a teen” in a glass mural art style…fucking iconic

#all that while i get to see nightwings ass?! #uhm yes please #also nikki sixx is so cool like omg #bad part about getting my comics at an antique shop is that i can never find the next edition of the comic #small price to pay (literally) for the content i’m getting though #x men #x men comics #nightwing #nikki sixx #motley crue #shit post #thrifting

[qu1cks1lversb1tch]

Eddie Munson ✨ Twilight Vampire ✨

Ever look at Eddie and wonder 'What if Carlisle Cullen found him? How would he be doing in the 2000s as a veggie vamp?'

Well, even if you haven't, I have. And now I'm writing these so I can remember to add them to my Wattpad fanfic later on. These are specific to my story and my OC's pronouns/living situation + her relationship with Eddie.

Feel free to use some of these ideas, but please don't post this anywhere else. This is my own hard work

So, first of all, he would totally still smoke weed. Like literally tons of it. Carlisle and the others would hate it because of the smell, but they gave up on getting him to quit after 10 years.

He most definitely kept the hair from the 80s. After he turned, his hair was the one thing he had full control over. Not even Alice could get him to change it.

Would dance in the rain with his mate.

He rips his pants at least once a week just doing dumb shit, like attempting karate kicks and jumping down from trees.

He was destroyed when his van finally took its last ride in the 90's. It hadn't been very old at all, but some things are beyond repair. So he allowed Carlisle to buy him a new one.

That van became his baby.

Despite not needing to have a job, he works at a bar on the edge of Forks. He saves the money so he can eventually paint a sick mural on the side of it.

When hunting, he'll use the five second rule, even though its unnecessary.

"Ooh! Five second rule!" "You realize that mountain lion has been outside its whole life? Its been on the ground before." "Shut up."

He didn't care much for physical touch when he was human, he dislikes it more as a vampire.

On the other hand, he doesn't know what personal space is either.

He always sits as close to his mate as humanly possible. The others find it irritating, but his firey mate thinks its adorable.

She thinks alot of things about him are adorable, and there's a constant argument: "Awww you're so adorable, Ed's." "I'm not adorable... I'm a man."

When his mate tells a funny joke, he almost always falls out of his chair in an exaggerated fashion.

He bought a goldfish in Port Angeles because his mate told him she wanted one when she was younger.

She named it Frito.

He's an absolute menace at red lights. Windows down and music all the way up. Most likely headbanging while his fingers drummed on the steering wheel.

He let's his mate paint his fingernails black.

He also let's her draw on his arms whenever she's anxious.

He took up writing as a stress relief. Sometimes he erases something so hard it tears the paper in half.

He's not big into sports, so while Bella and the others were at baseball, Eddie was in his mates room, watching 'Mean Girls' because that's what she wanted to do.

Both of them were shocked when Bella got home and she was yelling.

Eddie and his mate stayed in Forks.

He hates dressing too flashy, but he'd willingly do it for his girls senior prom. He didn't get to go to his own in his 3rd round of senior year, but he accepted her offer to go.

Even though he hates it when people stare at him.

He teaches her how to play guitar, using a second-hand one from a music store not too far from the bar. It was her nineteenth birthday present and she loved it.

His mate developed a love for playing, very similar to the one he had when he was a teenager.

She surprises him by playing covers of their favorite songs at the bar on Friday nights. She did it just to spend more time with him.

It takes about a year for him to open up to her about the events that led up to the week of his death.

His mate listens quietly, knowing it took a lot to reveal a traumatic event.

Nobody's allowed to touch his hair, except her.

While Ed 1 won't have premarital seggs, Ed 2 and his mate go at it constantly.

Literally, all the damn time.

That kinky bastard.

When she's at work, Eddie stops at the diner to pick up her favorites before walking all the way down the street to the auto repair shop.

He always greets her with a kiss and the bag of food.

They sit and talk on her lunch break.

Bear hugs at random.

He almost died again the first time she wore his hellfire shirt to the bar. He hadn't seen it in a while, but decided it looked good on her.

His wallet carries a picture of them that Alice took when neither of them were paying attention.

He always looks at her as if it was the first time he ever laid eyes on her.

This man-child vampire, loves aquariums.

He always slaps her ass when she walks by.

Pulls her in by the belt loops.

His hand always finds its way to her back pocket whenever they're out together.

Whenever he stays the night during the summer, he insists on tying her shoes before she goes to work.

He takes pinky promises as seriously as one would take an unbreakable vow. He would rather die again than break a pinkie promise.

He doesn't need to sleep, but he pretends to.

Never telling anyone his middle name, so his mate guesses.

"Edward Cornelius Munson?" "Absolutely not, are you even trying?"

She eventually guessed the right middle name after a week. "Edward James Munson?" His silence was enough of an answer.

He hates being called Edward, which only makes her do it more.

Refuses to tell anyone his birthday because it was never celebrated.

Its August 13th.

He's a man... who loves forehead kisses.

MATCHING GUITAR PICK NECKLACES.

When the other Cullen's left, Eddie stayed. He refused to leave his girl the way Ed 1 did.

He doesn't like kids that much, but he's good with them.

A kid waved at him at the aquarium and he casually mentioned how he'd love to maybe adopt a kid or six one day.

"I saw this and thought of you."

Then he hands her a flower 🌼🥺

It was always a different one.

He always tells her how beautiful she looks, even when she's just woken up with unbrushed hair.

He verbally fights with the shifters a lot because the ones that hadn't imprinted were interested in his girl.

They all knew she'd choose Eddie over them. Not because she wanted immortality or because she was scared to die. But because she truly loved him.

He realizes he wants to marry her one night while she's sleeping peacefully.

He wouldn't turn her until she was ready. However long that could be.

He wanted to propose in a meaningful way, but a vampire army put a kink in his plans.

He hates the thought of her being in any danger, so he does the most reasonable thing and doesn't let her leave his side unless its to use the bathroom.

Attempts to teach her DnD after a long day of battle training.

Turns into anything except learning how to play.

After almost losing her, he remembers human lives are short, so he proposes one night before she goes to bed.

She obviously says yes.

They decide to wait a bit before they get married, since Bella's wedding was coming up fast.

The coming months were very busy, so there wasn't much time to plan a wedding.

Finally, in January of 2007 they could begin planning.

Married in October of 2007.

Had their own Renesmee situation with twin boys.

She was turned not long after the birth of their two sons.

Adopted a little girl in February of 2008.

Moved to Alaska.

Lived happily ever after with their three kids.

If this gains any interest, I'll place the fanfic here when its finished!

—A. Barnes / Qu1cks1lversb1tch

#eddie munson #eddie my beloved #stranger things #stranger things headcanons #twilight #twilight headcanon #bella swan #vampire #main character #hybrid child

[mydeerestbones]

Deer Bones

A story about me and my father. The full story is here

Excerpt below the cut!

My father’s New York, which came about some time later, was one of rigid structure. Manhattan was a place for business, those buildings I had marveled as a child turned to factories of keyboards and cubicles. They belched news like black smoke. In my father’s New York, Brooklyn had a bad part to it. It had ‘untrustworthy’ people. The subway had medical blue seats, it ran on time and it served its purpose.

New York has a habit of changing itself around those that live there. Its skin shifts, beams bend, and it becomes what those who walk atop it see it as. My mother’s New York, for example, is one full of brick and murals. It has charming old subways with orange plastic seats, and a sense of wanderlust about it. When I lived with her in the city, its size was welcoming. We could journey out each day and always find a corner with some shop or park. We would take the train and find somewhere new, or stumble onto some nostalgic corner we had forgotten about.

Everytime my father stepped on a train he knew exactly where he was getting off. I doubt it ever occurred to him that each pause in his commute was an opportunity. To see something new, to explore. When we left to do something we’d walk the same way. Right down Prospect, left down Franklin, to the same subway stop, then we’d go to Manhattan. Here our choices opened up, if only by a stop early or late. On some days we would find ourselves at his work, a towering edifice to morning talk shows. Even rarer, we would find ourselves in some green space, something he would be sure to usher us past. Most often we would go to Strand. Books are one of the few things my dad and I share as an interest. He would tell me about writing, I would listen, and our conversations stayed happy.

The bookshelves loomed over me, as I rushed up the stairs to the 3rd floor. Desperate to find my little corner, to hoard books and comics on a beanbag throne. Sitting safe with my stories, another place to be that wasn’t as cold as here. The size of the place meant it would take awhile for Dad to find me, and I used that time to devour books. Comics were especially appetizing, I could eat through them at a rapid pace and sometimes even finish my food before being dragged away.

When I was found and forced to go back home, we would ride the same subway the same way. Shuttled away on hard plastic seats. Right on Franklin, right down Prospect. We would walk up brick steps and I would slip to the basement. I could be alone again.

The boiler sat in the corner, pipes extending from it like tentacles through the house. The pipes slithered into the accompanying room, hardly larger than the bed shoved into it. I was put here when I visited, laid to rest in storage with all the other forgotten things. Old legos and clothes stacked in bins dressed the wall between me and the boiler. The pipes hung over my head each night, I slept to the guttural sounds they would make.

#creative writing #creative nonfiction #writing #tw death #dealing with grief

[travelingtheusa]

TEXAS

2024 Apr 18 (Thu) – We drove into Brenham at 11:30 a.m.  First stop was at Blue Bell Creameries. They stopped giving tours 2 years ago so we just stood on the second floor and looked down at the factory workers hard at work.  There was a museum area that explained the process for making ice cream and lots of pictures of the founders of the creamery.  It is still a family run business.  We then stopped at the counter and each got a scoop of their special flavors.

     Now that we had finished our dessert, we went out to lunch at Must Be Heaven.  It was a very eclectic restaurant.  You picked up a menu, got on a long line, and placed your order.  We then moved down the line where several employees behind the large counter prepared your food.  It was all pretty good.  We then took a walk around the quaint western town, admiring the many murals painted on the sides of the buildings.

      Sated and satisfied, we headed down the road to Koopers Distillery where we tasted different types of bourbon and a whiskey.  Paul bought one bottle and Joe bought two.

      At 5 p.m. we went to Joe & Diane’s RV where she cooked pork carnitas with lime rice.  After our meal, they taught us how to play Pegs & Jokers.  It was fun.

2024 Apr 17 (Wed) – We packed up and left Fredericksburg at 9:40 a.m.  It was almost 4 hours to Ledbetter where we are camped at Lake Sommerville State Park Nails Creek Campground (isn’t that a mouthful?).  We stopped at WalMart for lunch and Paul pulled over to the side of the road when he spotted a liquor store.  I ran in to get a replenishment for our libations.  We arrived at the new campground around 2 p.m.

      At 4:30 p.m. Joe & Diane and we drove down the road to a little barbecue place to get dinner.  It turned out to be something about the size of a broom closet with a huge smoker outside.  A woman sat at a window and took your order.  They only do sandwiches on Wednesday and Thursday.  Dinners are on Friday and Saturday.  We all got sandwiches.  The meat was good but they put it on regular hamburger buns, which were too soft and mushy.  Yuck!  After dinner, we played Rummy Kube.

2024 Apr 16 (Tue) – We went into town and had lunch at Opas Smoked Meats.  Joe & Diane met us there.  It was a kind of deli that also made sandwiches.  Paul and I both had chicken salad.  The bread was dry and crumbly but the salad was good.  Everyone wanted to walk the town but I was feeling woozy and went home to nap.  Every few months, I get that.  I think it’s the medication.

      At 5 p.m. we went over to Bill & Rhonda’s RV to join the remaining group of Cajuns (several have left) for a grilling.  We brought over chicken to grill.  Others brought steaks or burgers.  It was a very pleasant evening.  The sunset was beautiful with a bright red sky.

2024 Apr 15 (Mon) – We went to WalMart to pick up a few things.  My pedi-shaver and Paul’s shaver both quit on us.  We also got Sheba a new scratching post and a mat for underneath the cat box.  Still couldn’t find drawer slides.  *sigh*

      We did the laundry today.  For a resort, the machines were cheap!  Just $1.50 for washers and $1.00 for dryers.  It made me wish I had more laundry to do.  😊

      The President of SMART and his wife, Richard & Mary, drove in from San Antonio to join the group for potluck tonight.  We went over to visit with him at John & Kathy’s RV.  At 4 p.m. we went into the community hall for happy hour.  At 5:30 p.m. all the food was cooked and we shared a potluck meal.  Past President Willie and his wife Joyce also came in to visit.  It was quite enjoyable.

2024 Apr 14 (Sun) – We drove to Luckenbach this morning with Joe & Diane.  It is a modern day ghost town.  Three people live in the town but they have wooden buildings with shops, a large dance hall, and a stage for musicians.  The schedule is for music all weekend and there was a band setting up while we were there.  We got lunch at the one food truck in town.  It was far more reasonable than the food truck we ate at yesterday!  We wandered around the town, reading information plaques and memorial signs for those who started the town.  It was established in 1850 and closed in 1971.  Individuals have come along and made the town a tourist stop.  The lady who owned the hat store was from upstate New York and we enjoyed conversing with her about the poor state of affairs back home.  We then wandered through the general store and picked up a Christmas ornament.

      Our next stop was at Meierstone Winery.  John & Kathy know the owner and arranged for a tasting for a group of 12 of us.  I didn’t like any of the wine.  Paul bought 2 bottles.

      After our return to the campground and a quick nap, we went to happy hour.  Paul brought over the beanbag baseball game and we had a rousing competition.  It was fun.

      Sheba is doing better.  She, at least, is looking to eat again.  That was a pretty bad flare up she had.

2024 Apr 13 (Sat) – We ran into town to pick up a few things from WalMart.  Paul is still searching for 12” drawer slides.   It’s still the only size missing in all the stores we look in.  We stopped at the Auslander Restaurant for lunch.  It as a quaint German restaurant.  There were cuckoo clocks on the wall and the stuffed heads of elk and moose around the room.  Paintings were hanging to depict the German countryside.

      After happy hour, Joe & Diane and we went over to a parking lot next to the campground where there are six food trucks parked.  We got burgers.  It was quite expensive!  There was a band getting ready to play some music.

2024 Apr 12 (Fri) – We packed up and left Elm Mott (Waco) at 9:30 a.m.  With Joe & Diane in tow, we headed out to Fredericksburg.  Johnny & Linda dropped in on our group about half way here.  We pulled off into a WalMart parking lot to make sandwiches, then continued to Fredericksburg RV Park.  We were here back in 2017.  It’s still a very nice campground.  And the laundry is cheap, too!  $150 for washers and $1 for dryers.  They have a community room that the Cajuns will use for our 5-day stay here.  We all enjoyed happy hour at 4 p.m.  The group had a potluck for dinner at 5 p.m.

2024 Apr 11 (Thu) – We had a delightful tour of the Waco Mammoth National Monument this morning.  I thought we had seen it before but it was totally unfamiliar to both of us.  Two boys found a bone while exploring a creek bed.  They brought it to a nearby museum.  It turned out to be the leg bone of a Columbian mammoth.  Excavation found 15 mammoths at the site.  It was a nursery herd that was at a watering hole when a flash flood trapped them in the mud (or so they hypothesize).  Since, they have discovered more bones and are still digging out more remains.

      The dig site was covered by a large building.  We walked in the door and were on a suspended walkway that looked down on the dig site.  There were several bones marked with signs identifying where remains were found as well as implements spread around the place telling what they are used for.  It was an interesting stop.

      After the monument, Johnny & Linda and Joe & Diane and we went to lunch at Ninfa’s Mexican restaurant.  The food was very good.  We then ran some errands – stopped at Home Depot, Lowe’s and Ace Hardware looking for drawer slides to repair the desk drawers.  There seems to be a shortage of 12” drawer slides.  There are many other sizes in stock, but no 12”.  Wonder what’s going on.  We also stopped at H.E.B. to pick up potatoes for potato salad for a potluck and the gas station to fuel up for tomorrow’s move.

      When we got back, we had happy hour where the group played card bingo.  It was a good night for the Thomases!  I won a game and Paul won 2 games.  All in all, we won $20.  Then we went to Johnny & Linda’s new rig for dinner.  She made chicken and rice; I made a salad.  They traded their Class A for a Class C rig.  It is much smaller than their previous rig and they are adjusting to it.  We are still adjusting.  Both of us keep going to the wrong cabinet for the garbage.  Just got used to where things were before.

2024 Apr 10 (Wed) – It was raining lightly this morning.  We packed up and with Joe & Diane in tow, we pulled out at 9:35 a.m.  The rain picked up over the ride and it poured buckets during some parts of the trip.  We traveled Route 31 to Elm Mott, just outside of Waco.  There was a section of road that so bad.  We hit many bumps.  When we got to the campground and opened the slide on the RV, we had damage.  The drawers on the desk had opened and caught the side of the slide.  Two drawers were damaged beyond repair and the trim piece around the slideout was pulled out.  We also found another leak in the RV.  *sigh*  I am suffering buyer’s remorse.  There are several things about this RV that I am not happy with.

     After set up, we did the laundry.  At 5 p.m. we went over to the community room where almost everyone else joined us for happy hour.  There were some very tasty snacks.  When we got back, I worked on sending out a newsletter about the upcoming National Muster in September while Paul went out to Home Depot to buy material to repair the drawers.  They did not have everything we needed but there was a liquor store next door.  Paul was able to replenish our alcohol supply, so all was not lost.

2024 Apr 9 (Tue) – It rained all morning and didn’t clear up until almost 2 p.m.  Because of the rain, no one really did any activities together.  At 4 p.m. we climbed into Joe & Diane’s car and drove down to Easley’s Steakhouse where about 12 of us had dinner.  There definitely seems to be a very strong schism in the Cajuns chapter.  Doug, who was supposed to be coordinating activities, hasn’t done any planning and has shared no information.  There is a lot of grumbling about the lack of communication. 

       After dinner, Joe, Diane and we went to the town square to explore.  We parked and walked around the block.  Like many small towns we have been in, Canton’s court house is located in the middle of the square.  Stores and shops surround the court house on all 4 sides.  We had to cross the road at each corner to go to the next area.  Most of the stores were closed.

       Afterward, we came home and prepared for tomorrow's move.

2024 Apr 8 (Mon) – Today was the Solar Eclipse.  We worried about the weather – forecasts were for thunderstorms and hail starting around the time of the eclipse.  Although there were scattered clouds, we were still able to gather together and watch the eclipse.  Totality took place at 1:44 p.m.  It got pretty dark for a few minutes.  Automatic sensors turned on outside lights.  Bo grilled up some hamburgers and Diane made chili.  The rain started after 7 p.m. tonight.  Paul discovered that the window next to the desk is where the leak in our side cabinet is coming from.  He’ll take a look at it tomorrow.

2024 Apr 7 (Sun) – We worked around the rig, continuing to plan our Michigan caravan next year.  Paul and I went food shopping to pick up snacks for happy hour.   Happy hour was at 4:30 p.m.  We went to dinner with Joe & Diane, Johnny & Linda, and Hank and Brender.  We ate at Val’s Italian Restaurant.  There has been a band playing in the field across from the parking lot for 2 nights.  We sit in the rig and listen to them playing.

2024 Apr 6 (Sat) – We left the Shreveport Elks Lodge at 10:30 a.m.  The drive was just 2 hours.  We stopped for lunch at a rest hour about half an hour away from Canton.  When we came out of the rig, we discovered we were hemmed in by 2 semi-trailers.  We started to back up when they both pulled out.  That was a pain in the butt!

      When we got to First Monday Trade Days Campground, we had to call to the camp host, Frank.  He arrived in his little golf cart and led us to our site.  We are basically located in a huge open dirt lot with rows of hookups.  Every site is a pull thru.  It is good to see many of our friends here: John & Kathy from our Appalachian Caravan this past October, Johnny & Linda (who we just left in Chatham, LA), Joe & Diane, Bo & Karen from Mississippi, and Hank and “Brender” (Brenda with an accent) from south Texas.  There was happy hour at 4:30 as we all caught up with one another on what we’ve been up to.  Four of us have new rigs so it was fun touring everyone’s camper to ooh and aah over them.