#I saw this in a record shop and immediately had to send a photo of them to my friend who got me into depeche mode

[lordofthesoups]

Evil Depeche Mode be like

Mepeche Dode

[ellieslittleslutt]

Girl Next Door .* :･ ｡ﾟ (part 2)

MEN AND MINORS DNI!!!

pairings: closed off!ellie x reader

you had just moved to the city to start your new life of music in non other than New york city but there are other things calling

cw: sweating, drinking, ellie being kinda a dick in the beginning, sub!ellie, dom!reader, oral and fingering (e receiving), lower case intended, i think that’s it i’m not sure.

a/n: got the motivation to do this so randomly so if it doesn’t make sense that’s probably because i was barely conscious doing this. sorry for the typos :(

wc 2k

not proofread

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

just woke you next to ellie. how did this happen!? gosh you don’t even remember how this happened, one minute you were hanging with her and the next your in her lap moaning.

you looked back at ellie. her face is so much softer when she’s asleep, so much more vulnerable. she was curled up under the blanket arm hung around you.

you almost felt bad for even considering leaving.

slowly shifting back down into bed, you pulled her back ontop of you closer to you rubbing her back as you watched her sleep.

when ellie woke up that was a different story. she immediately sat up pushing herself away from you staring at you just confused and scared kind of. ”what the fuck?” she asks not even knowing what to say.

sitting up slowly you reach for your shirt pulling it back ontop trying to reason with her “we just got drunk and hooked up” you tell her.

“yeah got that much i’m not fucking dumb get out.” she spat at you not jeeping her gaurd down. “jesus dude you could be nicer…” you muttered. she shot a glare at you “this is my apartment i do whatever i fucking want”

she kept staring at you her face stern but also nervous and kinda scared. she kept an eye on you until you were out the door and left.

since that night you haven’t heard from her or seen her in the shop anymore. when you would bump into eachother she’d keep her head down and walk past you.

honestly you had no fucking clue what you did to her to be treated like this so naturally you went to dina.

you asked her to meet up for a coffee to talk. you met eachother at a coffee shop between both your apartments.

once you got your coffees and sat down she already knew what you wanted to talk about “this is about ellie right?” she asks. take. aback that she already knows about it you nod “y-yeah..”

“her leaving you in the dust, ignoring you, pretending like you’re not there?” dina says more in a matter-of-fact tone. “yeah wait how did you know?” “she does this to every hook up.” ouch okay. you frowned sipping your coffee and dina speaks up again “look ellie isn’t one for getting attached but with you it’s different. i say the way she looks at your through the music shop windows, and the way she talks about you. she likes you but you can’t push her. if you try she’ll just push you away more”

“so what do i do?” you ask confused. she shrugs and leans back “be patient with her?” right. helpful.

after you guys finished catching up and talking about your music career and stuff you both made plans for the group to meet up at a bar.

while walking to work you saw outside a bar in the door that they were looking for singers to preform. you immediately went inside going to the closest bar tender. “hey i saw you were looking for someone to sing tomorrow ?” you say with a polite voice. the bartender looks up at you nodding “mhm you interested?” he asks you while pouring a drink for a customer.

“yeah i’d love to” you smile. “come by tomorrow and we’ll get you set up.”

once you left you immediately told dina about it, sending a photo of the flyer telling her that you all can meet up there tomorrow “YES OMG THATS SO COOL ILL TELL JESSE” dina texts back.

once you got to work you started helping some customers with picking out a guitar and some strings and helping some guy with his record player.

it was a pretty chill day when ellie came in looking very hesitant about it. she second she saw you she looked down walking towards the counter. you were leaning against the counter looking at her “hey” you mumbled and she mumbled a smal “hi” back.

she looked around nervously and had her guitar case next to her “i uhm.. wanted to get the guitar strings replaced and i honestly don’t know how to do it myself and i heard the prices here are good” she looked nervous like a little kid giving a presentation.

“yeah of course i can get that situated for you” you smile softly at her remembering what dina said. patience.. be patient.

you took her over to where you kept the strings and she got the ones you suggested clearly not knowing what to do, joel always did this for her. you sat down with her and started changing them.

“uh dina told me you’re preforming at the bar tomorrow?” ellie asks trying to break the silence and you nod “yeah you coming?” you ask looking up at her. “mhm.. i’ll be there” she said staring at her shoes. you smile at her and go back to her guitar

once you were done she payed and tested them out a bit before putting her guitar in the case “thanks” she mumbled and then walked away.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

the next day you were getting ready putting on your nicest outfit trying to look effortless but still nice. you pulled on your shoes and grabbed your guitar case going over to the bar texting the group chat dina made telling them you’re on your way.

you stepped into the bar and spotted them at a booth and walked over to them. ellie was sitting on the wall side playing with a napkin folding it around with no end goal. she had a glass of whiskey by her. dressed in a flannel and some jeans her forearm tattoo prominent. she glanced up at you looking you up and down holding back a small smile.

dina hugged you and jesse said a quick hi and you sat down dina handing you a beer. “so you’re preforming? what song?” dina asks with a smile and you chuckle “not telling” you tease.

when it got to your turn to preform you set up sitting on the stool and start plucking at the strings of your guitar.

“chilled in kitchen of a city tomb

the light would flicker like a violet moon

the night was thicker than a smoke fume

eliza waited in her room”

heads slowly lifted from conversation to look at you singing including ellie.

“ben he loved her like he loved no one

the way she laughed and held a smoking gun

the way she always said what’s done is done”

ellie watched you intently, watching how delicate you plucked the strings of your guitar and tapped your foot counting beat. listened to the soft way you sang.

“but he is not the only one”

singing that line you looked over at ellie making eye contact with her singing those lines to her before looking back out at the other people.

“love is a gentle thing, yours is thicker than a velvet ring

“yours is thicker than a velvet ring”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

once you got off the stage you went back to the booth dina jumping up “you did so good! oh my god that was amazing!” she said and you laughed. looking over at ellie she had her head down staring her drink. you noticed how she looked a bit embarrassed and you decided to get up going to the bathroom tapping ellie’s shoe to signal for her to follow.

when you got there you locked the door leaning against the sink folding your arms “you okay?” you ask her as she played with her pinky and ring finger. and she just hums looking around on the floor. “you can talk to me” you say tilting your head.

“i’m sorry for ghosting you after hooking up… i was being a dick to you and you didn’t deserve it…” she mumbled quietly “and kicking you out yelling at you we were drunk and did hooked up that wasn’t your fault…” she added. your eyes softened seeing how vulnerable she is and you pushed yourself off the counter getting closer “it’s okay” you say softly with a smile and she shakes her head “but i was really mean and i really like you”. you look at her not knowing wether to confess or if it was a joke. fuck it why not. “i like you too ellie so much” you grab one of her hands still not looking up at you

“but there’s all those other girls and what if you don’t trust me?” she asks and you sigh tilting her head up to look at you. “i trust you okay? even if you’re scared of relationships and what not i’ll be here…” you say softly cupping her cheek.

she smiles looking at you, you faces close together “i really wanna kiss you” she mumbles “do it” you say and she smiles even wider leaning in to kiss you.

it was a slow kiss. she really meant it not like before on the fire escape. you smile against her lips cupping her cheek and push her against the wall making the kiss deep your tongue poking through. kissing against her jaw line and neck she sighs softly letting her head fall back “wanna make you feel good yeah?” you mumbled against her neck and she just nodded.

you unbuttoned her flannel showing off her tits and you smile seeing she’s not wearing a bra glancing back at her her face red “what they’re uncomfortable” she mumbles. you chuckle softly and kiss down her body unbuckling her belt letting them drop to the bathroom floor, looking up at her as you get down on your knees “gonna be quiet for me yeah?” you ask your hands going up her thighs resting under her boxers.

she nods biting her lip hand tangling in your hair “yeah” she says breathily. pressing along her happy trail you pull her boxers down a line of her own wetness connecting her to them.

“excited?” you ask nipping her inner things and all she responds with is a breathy moan. you kissing along her slit running your tongue in it and she jerks slightly already sensitive.

you part her folds and latch onto her clit running your tongue around the bud while she tries so hard not to moan as loud as she can.

bringing your hand up on her thigh you slowly push a finger into her and she puts her hand over her mouth eyes fluttering as you pump them in her.

“been thinking about this?” you ask against her clit. “mhm… fuck every night” she mumbles panting a bit.

pushing one more finger into curling them up she covers her mouth to let out a deep moan of your name and you could tel she was getting close by how tight she was getting “gonna need my fingers baby” you chuckle.

she grips your hair thighs trembling as she struggles to stay up and her orgasm washes over her as she rides out the waves. once you know she’s done you stand back up wiping your fingers on your pants and kiss her cheek while she catches her breath.

“fucking amazing” you say against her skin and she smiles “does this mean you’re my girlfriend?” she asks in the dorkiest way “definitely” you reply and kiss her softly “you’re so cute” you chuckle brushing her hair back.

when you got her dressed again and went out to dina and jesse dina having a knowing smile as she looked you guys up and down. “had fun?” she asks sipping her drink with a smirk and you guys don’t answer and just shrug before grabbing your guitar case and ellie’s bag.

“we’re gonna head home now going to bed early” ellie tells them and dina chuckles “mhm have fun”

it was going to be a long night.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

idk if the timeline is good or not so please lmk (i do cry to criticism). anyway here’s part two idk if i can make a part three but if you have an idea for it please tell me.

[quinnynation]

well, my boyfriend's in a band ~ boynextdoor smau

chapter four "you do not send tony stark to voicemail"-- [half written !!]

shopping with taesan went much smoother than shopping with leehan had. the black-haired man didn't speak much while you two made your way through the racks of clothes available at the thrift store, only occasionally speaking to offer help on sizing and textures.

"leehan prefers cotton"

"sungho's shirts have to be wider up top, the only con of having shoulders like him."

"woonhak isn't allowed to wear cropped shirts."

that one caught you off guard, "isn't allowed?" you pried, head tilting as you placed the shirt back onto the rack, a faint sound of metal hitting metal sounding off as taesan replied.

"yeah, we banned him from it." he shrugged, moving around the clothes you'd selected in his arms. "how come?" you questioned, making your way to the check-out. taesan thought for a moment before replying, "i'm not sure." his tone was honest, "overprotectiveness, i guess....we still see him as a baby."

you smiled fondly at that, "that's sweet, you all look out for him."

taesan wrinkled up his nose and rolled his eyes, "it's not sweet."

you decided not to embarrass him any further.

~~

"can we stop here?" taesan asked, stopping in his tracks in front of some store you didn't recognize. you looked up at the store's sign, it was a record shop.

you quickly took your phone from your pocket, checking the time. it was only 4 pm, you both had time to spare.

"sure, why not." you said, letting him lead you in.

that's when you saw the real taesan. the unmasked, unfiltered han dongmin in his element. taesan breezed straight past all the aisles that held music you were interested in and to the back, immediately digging into the boxes of vinyls.

"what're you looking for?" you asked, fingers carefully moving around a few vinyls in an adjacent box. "motley crue." he smiled, looking up at you with a genuine smile. you nodded, letting out an interested hum-- "80s man."

taesan nodded firmly, "the peak of rock."

you thought quietly before nodding, "i'll take your word for it."

that stopped taesan in his tracks. "...what?" he asked, tucking a vinyl under his armpit. you simply shrugged, "i don't listen to rock."

taesan's mouth formed an 'o' shape as his eyes practically bugged out of his head. "what?" he stammered around his words for a moment, "but- but the concept- the-"

you wrinkled up your nose as you laughed, "i like the style, but i'm a total poser." you admitted, walking towards the aisles you were interested in. taesan followed, curiosity not killing the cat for once.

"this," you picked up a vinyl, lana del rey's lust for life. "this is my shit." you enthused, shoving the album into his face. taesan leaned back, moving the vinyl away from his face-- "local."

you squinted at him, furrowing your brows together... "fake emo."

the two of you laughed loudly. the teasing didn't lighten up, yet neither of you took it seriously. it was nice, playful banter filling any aisle the two of you explored.

~~

"can i post these on my priv?" taesan asked, leaning over to show you his phone as the two of you waited for the staff's car. you examined the photos carefully before nodding, "i'll post some on mine too."

taesan nodded, allowing a few beats of silence to fill the space between you two before-- "add me onto it, please?"

you smiled, looking up/down at the man, "of course!"

divider credit {@strangergraphics}

a/n : sorry this took so long i hated it for awhile but then i realized digital footprint is made up to scare me from posting bangers /hj

taglist !! :

@conwunder @8makes1atom @s0shroe @stantxtforabetterlife @steddie-steddie @ribbeoms @jungwonbropls @dearwhs @lvlyhiyyih @sirenla @yuzuksi @squiishymeow @mensisim @nujeskz @academiq @imma-jiki @kukkurookkoo @g3laatin @007chan @jvngw0nlvr @metanoianlove @coriihanniee

[bethelighthalazia]

"Minijoong"

Summary: A little insight of Hongjoong being a wholesome dad. 

Genre: fluff

Pairing: dad!Hongjoong x fem!reader

Word Count:  1031

Warnings: none, just wholesome fluff with Joong being a wonderful dad

networks: @mirohs-aurora-society 

[note: Thank you to @itsnotmydejavu for helping me with a name and gender for Joong´s kid! And thank you to @hongthoven for giving me inspiration for some scenes <3 This is part of a mini-series for dad!ateez]

HJ, SH, YH, YS, S, MG, WY, JH

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

“How does it feel to be left alone by your wife, only leaving your son with you?” Seonghwa asked Hongjoong, his camera pointing at the captain while he did this little ‘interview’. Your husband just rolled his eyes, looking up from his hands to give the older member a glare. “She didn't leave me behind, don't make it sound like she divorced me or something! Y/nnie is working, hyung!'' With these words, he returned to painting his nails, the old nail polish had chipped off already, but then got interrupted again, this time by his son. “Appa, I want too, please?” Ji-ho asked while climbing onto Hongjoongs lap, smiling happily and pointing at the pink nail polish. 

With you working as a stylist at KQ, assigned to the boys of ATEEZ, you never had any problems with your schedules to take care of your son together. This time however, your husband and his members had roughly three weeks off, but you were asked to help out, because one of the stylists working with Xikers got sick. This also meant that you´d have to accompany them overseas for four days. You hated the idea of leaving your boys alone, but you also loved your job. So, now you were sitting on the plane with the Xikers kids because Hongjoong had convinced you to take this opportunity. 

And that's why Hongjoong was now sitting with your son on his lap, painting the kid ́s nails in a hot pink while Seonghwa was recording everything. It was afternoon, Ji-ho had just woken up from his nap which Hongjoong made him take after lunch, and he had heard his father and his uncle talking. The boy always loved playing dress-up and both of you encouraged him to wear whatever he likes. Well, making sure it's proper clothing for his age of five years. “Now I look nice, like appa! We must take photos to send to eomma,” Ji-ho giggled, turning to look at Seonghwa, giving a wave into the camera before then turning to look at Hongjoong with his big doe eyes. You always thought he's just a mini copy of your husband, and apparently everyone else thinks so too. 

“Don´t worry, Ji-ho, we´ll take lots of pictures and send them to your eomma. But first we have to get dressed, right? Your uncle wants to take us shopping for new clothes.” Hongjoong explained and Ji-ho nodded excitedly, bouncing up and down with a giggle. His excitement was contagious and made Seonghwa laugh happily too, leaving Hongjoong to be the only adult here at this moment. With a chuckle of himself, he got up, propping his son on his hip to carry him over to the kid's room, which he regrets almost immediately, because Ji-ho has grown a lot lately. 

An hour later, the three of them were at the stores, Seonghwa currently trying on clothes that Hongjoong picked for his best friend. Ji-ho was sitting and waiting patiently while watching them, eyes wide when his dad handed Seonghwa a dress to try on. Not a very girly dress, but more elegant, something that just brings out Seonghwa's features even more. When your son saw this, he got up and waddled over to the children's clothes, taking a few pieces to bring back to the changing rooms.

“Appa! Can I try?” Ji-ho asked, lifting up the pieces of clothing he gathered and Hongjoong just nodded, slightly absent-minded. After he got his dad's permission, he slipped into the big dressing room with Seonghwa, so his uncle could help him. While Hongjoong was waiting outside of the dressing room, he sat down and checked his phone, only to look up when the door opened and Seonghwa came out of it with your son. Ji-ho had chosen some rainbow leggings and a white skirt that reminded Joong of a school uniform, and topped it with a very cute, baby blue sweater and a sparkly headband. The colors and types of clothes were very mixed together, but Hongjoong couldn't stop a proud smile from spreading on his face, what got him chuckling though, were the black cowboy like boots his son chose for the outfit.

“Aish, now both of you look ready to be models!” Your husband smiled at his best friend and your son, ignoring the weird looks some elderly people gave them because of the clothing choices. “Do you like this outfit, Ji-ho? We can buy it for you,” he said, crouching down to fix the hood of the sweater, before then looking at Seonghwa. “Let's get a lot of clothes for you two. And then we do a fashion show at home to make lots of pictures for y/n!” Your son was more than excited, he always loved to watch fashion shows on TV, he even copied Hongjoong sometimes when he worked on his own clothes sometimes. 

Almost an hour and a half later, your husband and Seonghwa were loaded with bags filled with different outfits, Ji-ho happily leading them back home into the apartment, which is also located in the dorms building of the Ateez boys. During the little fashion show, even Mingi joined the trio, he loved to spend time with his nephew anytime he could, and soon the pictures were flooding in your inbox, making you smile and giggle. Hunter and Yechan were sitting next to you, seeing the photos as well and laughing at some of the outtakes Seonghwa sent you; one of the last pictures showing Hongjoong and Ji-ho laying on a pile of clothes, both had fallen asleep along the way as it seemed. 

You didn't know how you ended up married to the most wonderful man on earth and had such a precious son with him, but you wouldn't want it to be different. Even though you missed them a lot, seeing the photos and knowing that you could facetime your boys at any time made you feel happy and calm. After all, you were heavily worried how Hongjoong would manage to have Ji-ho around him for four days, but he seemed to be doing just fine with the help of his hyung and the younger members.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson, @hotteokkay, @minkilicious, @bunnliix,

@gong-fourz, @yeosangiess, @jayshoneybee, @dinossaurz, @scuzmunkie, @h3arteyes4mingi

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[fanfics4all]

Lines Crossed: Part 7

Request: Yes / No

Don’t be shy, request things! <3 Have a nice day/night

Malachai x Fem!Jones!Reader 

Word count: 1025

Warnings: Talk of injuries but should be it

Y/N: Your Name 

PLEASE DO NOT STEAL MY WORK, I WORK HARD ON MY FICS AND IT’S NOT COOL TO STEAL SOMEONE ELSE’S WORK! 

If you want to be on the tag list for anything (My series fics, specific character fics, or just all of them) All you have to do is send me an ask and I will add you! 

Masterlist 

If you enjoy my work, you could also show support by buying me a coffee! 

(Not my photo, credit to whoever made it!)

A week had passed since the attack, and I was finally out of the hospital. My ribs still ached with every breath, and my fractured wrist throbbed even with the brace supporting it, but I couldn’t just sit around doing nothing. So, despite the painkillers dulling the worst of it, I found myself back at my shop. The place had been cleaned up, Dad, Sweet Pea, and Fangs had made sure of that. But there were still papers to go through, bills to check, and orders to reorganize. I could at least do something instead of feeling helpless. 

I was sitting at my desk, flipping through paperwork, trying to ignore the stiffness in my body when the sound of the bell over the front door chimed. I glanced up and quickly looked back at my paperwork. Malachai walked in, his presence immediately filling the room with tension. He looked the same as always- tall, imposing, dangerous- but there was something softer in his gaze as he scanned the shop before looking at the back of my head. 

“Where the hell have you been?” His voice was firm but not angry. More… concerned. 

“Why haven’t you been answering me? I thought we talked about this, baby.” 

I swallowed hard and turned fully to face him. 

The second he saw me, really saw me, his entire demeanor changed. His dark eyes flickered over the fading bruises on my face, the deep purple and yellow marks littering my arms, and the brace on my wrist. His jaw clenched. His nostrils flared. 

“What the hell happened?” His voice was sharp, demanding. 

I exhaled slowly, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze. 

“I wasn’t ignoring you.” I said quietly. “I just got out of the hospital.” 

Malachai’s entire body went rigid. His fists clenched at his sides, his breathing heavy and uneven. 

“Who the fuck did this to you?” His voice was dark, seething with barely controlled rage. 

I hesitated, but I knew I couldn’t lie to him. Not about this. 

I met his gaze, my voice barely above a whisper. “Four Ghoulies came into my shop.” I swallowed, the memory flashing in my mind. “They… they beat me because of what Jughead did to you.” My throat tightened. “And because I’m your weakness.” 

The room felt ice-cold as Malachai stilled. His face twisted into something unreadable- part fury, part something deeper. His breathing slowed, but the tension in his body only grew. His hands curled into tight fists. His knuckles turned white. Then, in a low, terrifying voice, he muttered.

“They’re dead.” 

Malachai’s entire body radiated fury, his fists clenching so tight I thought he might break his own fingers. His jaw was set, his nostrils flared, and I could practically see the storm raging inside of him. 

“Do you know who they were?” His voice was low, sharp, and controlled- but barely. 

“I… I recognized them from when I’ve been to the House of the Dead.” I admitted. 

“But I don’t know their names.” 

His dark eyes bore into mine. “What’d they look like?” 

I swallowed, reaching for the laptop I kept under the counter. “I have security footage.” 

His eyes flickered with something dangerous. “Show me.” 

I pulled up the footage, my fingers trembling slightly as I clicked through the recordings from that night. The grainy black and white video played, and I forced myself to watch as the four Ghoulies stormed in, their movements cruel and calculated. I flinched as I saw myself being thrown to the ground, kicked, punched- saw my body curl in on itself as the pain became unbearable. Malachai stood deadly still as he watched. His breathing was eerily calm, but I knew him well enough to recognize the real reaction. The barely restrained, simmering rage beneath the surface. When the video ended, he exhaled slowly through his nose, his fingers twitching at his sides. 

“I know who they are.” His voice was ice-cold. “And they’re gonna fucking pay for this.” 

I sighed, rubbing my temple. “Mal, the Serpents are pissed too. Dad wants to go after them.” 

“Tell FP I’ll take care of them.” His tone left no room for argument. 

I frowned. “Mal, Dad is really fucking pissed about this.” I emphasized, watching his jaw twitch. “Like, he’s talking about getting guns.”

Malachai shook his head, exhaling sharply before stepping closer. His hands- big, rough, and warm- gently cupped my face, his thumbs brushing softly over my bruised cheekbones. His touch was the opposite of his voice- calm, careful, protective. 

“Convince him to let me deal with them.” He murmured. “I’ll fucking record it for him if he wants, I don’t care.” His dark eyes searching mine, filled with unrelenting determination. 

“They hurt my girl.” He growled. “And they’re gonna fucking pay.” 

I bit my lip, my heart pounding, my mind torn between wanting revenge and just wanting this to stop. Then, Malachai softened, just slightly. 

“Y/N, I swear to you, I didn’t send them. I never fucking would.” His voice was quieter now, more serious. 

“I don’t give a damn what the Serpents think, I would never let anyone lay a hand on you.” 

I nodded slowly. “I know.” 

Malachai’s eyes softened as he held my face, his thumb tracing lightly over my cheek, careful to avoid the bruises. His gaze flickered down to my lips, lingering for a moment before he leaned in. 

The kiss was soft- gentle enough not to hurt my split lip, but firm enough to prove what he was saying without words. That he loved me. That he’d never hurt me. That he’d protect me no matter what. When he pulled back, he didn’t let go. He rested his forehead against mine, exhaling slowly, his breath warm against my skin. 

“I’m gonna take care of them.” He murmured. “Tell FP it’s being handled.” 

I sighed, my fingers curling weakly into the front of his vest. 

“Okay…” I whispered. 

I didn’t know if this would ever end, this cycle of violence, the back-and-forth war between the Serpents and the Ghoulies, but right now, with Malachai holding me like this. I didn’t care. Because I felt safe. 

Tag list: @les-bio-lie @tashy-bear @ashwarren32 @hollie-blogs-blog1 @lover-of-books-and-tea @nerdygaloresposts @teenwolfbitches28 @kmc1989 @drw0301bieber @lady-of-lies @ravenmoore14 @ravenempress101 @cillianchamp @rowanthomasknapp @rachelxwayne @ready-4-fanfiction @madammarvellous-blog1 @emo-godess-loves-you @hiya-imthatgirl @mindsetjupiter @averysinclaire @mittelerde1999 @sweetest-peas @rousewriter @camiconfessions-blog @thecaptainsgingersnap @cenyddtheunicorn @jacksxsouthsideserpents @lover2448 @mamacobie13 @scarrasco1325 @madebyleftovermuses @fandom-princess-forevermore @liz-owl @adamsbubblegumbitch @yrfavel

[sapphire-heart-tippy]

I'm back, everypixie! I'm tired, I'm sunburned, I got to see family I haven't seen in a few years, used my broken Spanish to order food (cousins and abuelita helped), and enjoyed one of my cousins' 26th birthday party! I have some pictures too

Oh! Also I got to pet a xoloitzcuintli for the first time 💙

Pictures below the cut! Hyperexplanations will be in pink 😭

Explanation for brown hair: I dyed my hair brown because I haven't dyed it blue in such a long time, and if I were to redye it blue immediately before the trip, then it would bleed all over my abuela's shower 😣 so I made the decision to just go back to brown for the week

Anyway, here are some photos!

When we passed by one of the vendors who was playing an ocarina/flute thing, he saw my Shrek shirt and started playing the chorus to All Star. One of my relatives and I looked at each other and was like, "Did that just happen?!" 🤣 I wish we would've been recording at the time

Here, I got some blue fire opal earrings!

The xoloitzcuintli I got to pet! She was sunbathing and I pet her little head. She felt like warm leather!! I always loved these doggies and one of the things on my bucket list was to pet one, I'm so happy I actually got to! 💙

I also got to taste some samples of ancient liquor. My tía thought they were too strong, but I liked all of them except one 😭 we also tasted the juice from the plant they would make clothes and paper from, it was nice and sweet weirdly enough!

Also, when going out and visiting different places, stores, restaurants and stuff, it turns out that my abuelita is pretty much "the town old lady" there 🤣 everyone knew her! It was also a lot of fun to learn some Spanish and teach some of my cousins English too. We were all crammed in a car, laughing and talking, just enjoying everyone's company.

It's funny because I guess shyness also runs in the family because hardly any of us were making eye contact, we were all socially awkward at first, but then when we started hanging out more it was a riot! ¡Muy divertido! 💙✨ One of my cousins is fully bilingual, her sister is learning English, and their parents can only speak Spanish. We had my abuelita translate things while we talked back and forth, it was so much fun!

Oh, and everyone besides my abuelita got authentic Mexican food, instead, she always ordered chicken nuggets and fries whenever we went out to eat 🤣 /light hearted

(she lives there in Mexico, and one of her friends owns a restaurant we went to, and another owns a piñata shop! We got to eat at the restaurant and check out the piñata shop! However, every time we went to grab food, my abuelita would always get nuggets/chicken strips and fries 🤣)

Also the limeade here was so good! I also tried Oaxaca cheese for the first time, it's delicious!!

(I have an overbite, which is why I look like that duck from Chicken Little! It doesn't cause me any physical distress thankfully so I'm not going to get it fixed unless it prevents me from eating, or starts causing me pain! Also, I've noticed that some of my cousins and even my mom have an overbite too, so I'm guessing it's hereditary? 💙✨)

I'm going to dye my hair back to blue soon, because I miss it and it's part of who I am! 💙

I do have some pictures from the birthday party, but I might only send them to those close to the family or close friends. Either way, it was fun to go back and see how things have been since I visited for my quinceañera, so that was like 11/12 years ago (I still have my dresses, both the big dress and the little party dress, and I'll have to find the photo album too, it was fun and beautiful!! We don't mess around when it comes to parties 🤣)

[banana-pancake5]

Haha this got pretty out of hand so it’s under the cut!

(Don = Future Donnie, Donnie = Present Donnie)

Don stood on the beach, confused and in pain as he stared at the purple sand. He’d seen videos and photos of people on the beach but… this obviously wasn’t right. Before he could collect further data a bright red warning sign displayed itself in the vision of his cyber eye. The words rung aloud in his own pre-recorded voice, “Mini Dee has activated his panic button. Sending coordinates now.”

Forget the purple mystic beach, somehow Donnie was here too and in trouble. Don hopped into the stealth bike and plugged the coordinates in, he had no clue if the stealth bike was functional but it was the fastest way across this… camp. He activated the cloak and hastily drove to the coordinates. As he drove, he passed campfires, cabins, and large crystals spouting from the ground. None of it made sense. It was honestly starting to freak him out. He didn’t know where he was or what was going on, his teenage counterpart was here and in trouble, and he didn’t know of a way home. The bike drifted to a stop and he jumped out, summoning his boa staff for protection.

He was parked in front of a gift shop. There was no immediate visible signs of danger, but he lowered his goggle and scanned the inside for threats. No Krang, which was a good sign, but he did see the heat signatures of two people, one on the other, throwing punches with the one below blocking and throwing their own. Don rushed into the building ready to kill, assuming it was Donnie who was under attack.

When he entered he saw another mutant turtle on top of Donnie. Donnie’s robotic arms were grabbing and pulling the attacker off but she persisted, ripping the robotic arms off herself and even tearing a few from the Battle Shell. Donnie was screaming at her to get off but she was blinded by rage.

Don looked at the two teenagers fighting and let out a sigh of relief. He deconstructed his boa staff and instead pulled out his phone. Donnie could handle himself to another teenager, and it would be a great video to blackmail Donnie in the future. Don videoed the fight and quietly whispered to himself, “Heh, children fighting. I can sell this!”

Within a minute, Donnie had successfully turned the tides of his battle and now held the other mutant pinned to the ground as she thrashed and growled. His arm is too close to her head, Don noted in his mind. Then as if on queue, the pinned turtle whipped around and bit hard into Donnie’s arm. Don’s face contorted in a sympathetic wince. Donnie loosened his grip with a sharp yelp of pain and a shout, “YOU BIT ME!?” She took charge of his moment of weakness and pushed Donnie back to the ground. There was a trickle of blood dripping down from Donnie’s forearm as he wrestled with the turtle despite the pain.

He should probably intervene before Donnie stops playing defense, plus all the yelling was making his headache worse. He saw Donnie’s marking light up as he began summoning a weapon.

“Annnd that’s my queue,” Don deployed his spider-like robotic arms and ran to stop the fight. He ripped the two teenagers away from each other with his set of mechanical arms and lifted each of them up with his. He held them by their T-Shirts with Donnie in his prosthetic’s grip and the girl in his real hand. They both had no recollection of what happened and continued to try to reach each other, kicking and punching, especially the girl. “HEY! Snap out of it you two!” Don’s voice was stern and clear; it left no room for argument. Donnie immediately snapped his attention to his older counterpart and stilled; he was too stunned to speak. Donnie thought he was the only one from his timeline in this crazy place, to see his older counterpart was a wave of relief and yet he couldn’t help but shrink under his glare.

“LET GO OF ME!!!” Frida furiously growled at Don as she continued to struggle. Don was slightly shocked at the girls dum dum bravery in the face of someone twice her size. He placed his younger self on the ground and pushed a prosthetic finger against her plastron, “Before you make another move, I want you to use that riled up brain of yours and answer one question. Do you want to calm down and, i don’t know, talk this out,” he couldn’t help but mumble, “frankly a boring choice,” under his breath at the thought. He continued with a light tone, “or do you want to pick another fight with little Donnie over here,” he paused to give her a moment to think before saying with a low growl and a flicker of his ninpo, “But know this, If you lay another finger on that kid, I won’t hesitate to blow you back to whatever dum dum dimension you’re from before you can even register your own idiocy.” He gently lowered her to the ground with a pat to the head, retracted his mechanical arms, crossed his arms, and looked down at her with a cocky eyebrow raised above the other, “The choice is your’s kid.”

———

Lil drawing to go with it :D

———

JADE AGHHHHHH I LOVE THAT ANIMATION!!!!!!! I am still so amazed. it looks incredible. And haha sorry this is so long!!

Don: oh, mini me is fighting and losing HAH! I gotta get this on video.

Also Don: I will kill you if you try to hurt him one more time.

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion Cabins 11 and 13! (This has slight mention of this week’s activity but idk if that counts…)

First part

That was it. This turtle would not disrespect Big Mama. Frida lunged at him with nothing but rage.

Frida attacked him, tackling him to the ground. He quickly countered with robotic arms that came from his shell and grabbed for Frida. She batted them away while trying to keep this turtle down. He yelled something, but she couldn’t hear him. She couldn’t hear anything except his words over and over.

“…maybe she just dropped the kid like she dropped Papá.”

———

Sorry @banana-pancake5 I had to continue this here bc the video wasn’t working on the reblogs

Donnie definitely struck a nerve hahaha

@tmnt-fandom-family-reunion Cabins 11 and 13

———

Here’s the slower version

[roxineedstosleep]

Hello!

I wanted to request a yan! platonic batfamily with a reader who gets ignored in their real family so they usually spend their time causing trouble around Gotham.

Well… as it was not specified whether it was one shot or headcanon. I'll do a headcanon (sorry if it wasn't what you wanted).

*****************************************

Bruce and Alfred are too used to the idea of neglectful fathers. Jason, Tim and Steph's father ring a bell?

So, if you cause minor problems like shoplifting, speeding down the track, getting in trouble during a protest or some minor charge, I really feel they would let you get away with some of it the first few times.

You're not an immediate risk like the Joker or Deathshot. you're just a minor criminal. But if it's the 15th time you've been taken to the police station, and the 15th time your parents have stood you up there… let's just say you catch their interest.

Even more so if they see that even the precinct officers themselves treat you so casually. They call you by nicknames, give you little scoldings, help you with your injuries and keep you in a cell away from the other criminals; real Gotham criminals.

Hell, you even had a nice poster of your favourite band in your cell!

I can tell you for a fact that Jason almost broke his helmet mouthpiece when he saw how one of the detectives brought you a little minicake from the vending machine to sing you a birthday song along with the staff on duty. But only to get yelled at and threatened by your parents when you were taken out a few hours later.

How could they do that?

Damian would even rethink his new teachings when he saw how the other criminals in town were better at guiding you than your own parents. What kind of parent leaves their own offspring in the middle of winter with nothing but slippers? No wonder you had to steal some coats and proper shoes. Not to mention stealing some hats and blankets for the homeless people who gave you shelter that night.

You where their blood, why?

Dick would definitely stop you from doing anything if he could, they left you without food or anything to buy? he'd sure give you his cereal bars and some snacks he carries with him so you wouldn't have to steal the junk from any shops.

You were so young!

Tim was surprised to discover that the police records of all the precincts had more photos of you and better medical records than the hospital where you were born. You had almost no medical records. But there wasn't much CPS could do for you either. It was either those horrid creatures for parents, or an overcrowded foster home that would send you to the first bad-ass correctional facility.

They treath you like a plastic bag... how?

Bruce was furious. And he thought he was a bad father… well, you had your terrible mistakes, but he never thought he'd do that to any of his kids. How could they do that to you?

How they dare?

Then it just happened.

Another arrest, but instead of listening to your parents' screams and insults, Bruce Wayne comes in and asks them to get you out of there.

It all happens so fast… or it's all SO bizarre that you just let a stranger drive you away in one of his many expensive cars. He takes you to a mansion, puts you in a room, the only butler almost feeds you in your mouth and a group of 4 boys come in to hug and cuddle you.

You don't react at all. why do you suddenly get so much love all at once? you don't move. you basically live in vegetable form for a few days until you want to walk out the door and you find that you can't. you don't move.

You try again, but nothing.

And when you want to ask how to get out of there, everyone treats you like a fool and tries to distract you with other activities.

Basically they treat you like a stray cat that has to be locked in the house to become a house cat. And they don't plan to let you go until you fulfil that role.

Why go out on the street and live in misery if you can be happy and warm with them?

[seokjinsonlyone]

this what i think bts love language is

a/n: this just my thoughts besties i ain’t do no formal type of research or nun just let my lil imagination sprint 🥸🤪

namjoon:

physical affection/words of affirmation

okay so i said physical affection for one bc like he seem to like initiate contact with people around him a lot

like in interviews he be having his hand on whoever next to him thigh or like when he be performing if it’s someone next to him he throws his arms around them a lot

not to mention like whenever jimin or jk or whoever start feeling up on him he never rejects it or makes a face or anything like yoongi does he just accepts it

like there’s so many stage clips where jimin will come and rest his chin on joon’s shoulder and he just lets him

or jk will just start touching on him some way grabbing his arms or sumn and it doesn’t phase him at all

another example is like on day 2 of sowoozoo when tae randomly came and linked arms with him and hobi during mikrokosmos hobi was like 🥴🥴 but joon was just 😌

and then there was that magic shop muster moment when jk was talking about how much he loved joon and how he was his beginning you know as president of the joon fan club does and namjoon couldn’t help but to go over and give his number one admirer a hug you know the moment

same thing with compliments he lowkey be eating them up

like you know how whenever hobi gets complimented he be like “😶 don’t say those things” joon don’t do that

like when they was asked to take their jackets off during the butter shoot and namjoon was like yeah okay and everyone started hyping him up and he was just 💁🏼‍♂️😜

and again on day 2 sowoozoo when he pushed his hair back from his forehead and everyone went OHHHHHSWJJSJS SEXY NAMJOON and then he decided to murder us all by tilting his head back on top of that adding insult to injury i would insert the picture but for my mental health i will not

and again whenever they talk about him being such a great leader he never shies away from it doesn’t cringe always accepts it so you know it must mean a lot for him to hear those things

aside from that tho he’s such a poetic person

like he is definitely involved in an intimate affair with language so there’s no way he wouldn’t appreciate you verbally telling him how he makes you feel

like just think about how many times he’s said he wants to sit down with each army and listen to their story

that being said if this was your man i think you’d definitely have to both show and tell him how you feel

like if he was about to head out for work you definitely got to kiss him before he leaves

and if you on the phone with him the last words you’re saying are i love you

and he’s definitely gonna cherish it each time always gonna have that cute little smile dimples caved in his cheeks bc you love him and he feels it

seokjin:

acts of service/words of affirmation

alright so ngl the reason i said acts of service for seokjin is like almost 100% based on his reaction to tae setting up that birthday event for him where he had his friends send him messages

he talked about it for WEEKS like he was genuinely so moved that i just like he has to love it

and then there’s like how much he bothers jk to like do simple stuff like i’m specifically thinking about that one moment in bon voyage 4 when he was sitting down at the table and called jk to help him up

and then there’s also little things he does for others like when he peeled tae’s tangerines for him or when he offered to feed yoongi bc he was driving or how he always offers bites of his food before even gets a chance to taste it

now i say words of affirmation bc he always searching for a compliment

my minds going to when jk hurt his foot and jin was pushing him in the wheelchair and kept feeding him lines to say about how he was such a good hyung and how he loves him

or in the behind the scenes for the boy with luv video and he kept tryna get tae to compliment him for being witty

and my boy never misses a chance to introduce himself as worldwide handsome

even though he does a lot of those things jokingly there are moments when he’s serious too about giving compliments and shy when he receives them like in those be interviews when he called jk a singing genius and jungkook was talking about how he had the most range and he got all ☺️☺️

or that moment from in the soop when he was comforting yoongi about like not having regrets and when yoongi told him he wanted to be like him just those kinds of moments let me know words are important to him

which just made me remember how hard he tries with his lyrics and how important they are to him like when he was writing awake and he talked about how he kept getting rejected but he was super insistent bc it was important for him to sing the words he wrote and don’t even get me started on moon i just-

anyway jin done said many times he is a man of the present so if you’re with him you gotta actively show/tell him

if you’re at the store pick him up some gummies

if you know he’s got a long day ahead of him maybe pack him some snacks to take with him in the morning

if his hair looks nice tell him

send him messages throughout the day even if he can’t respond immediately

he claims he’s a man of the present but whenever he takes a moment to reminisce the past he’ll look back and know just how much you care about him

yoongi:

quality time/acts of service

listen as much as this man loves spending time alone the time he spends with others means a lot to him

like how he always go fishing with jin even tho he ain’t particularly fond of it

or how like in in the soop he had made plans to play games with jimin and did so extensively

also from in the soop when he had spent most of his day outside reading but then he had heard everyone starting to make the theme song and immediately ran to get his equipment to record and what not

not to mention his poem from the end of that one run episode where they went on like a mini trip or whatever and he was like “what a relief that we have seven members. what a relief that we have each other.”

like being all together is important to him

like i just think about that one scene from one of they movies ion remember which one but they were all gathered around the table and it was when he had told them how he actually hurt his shoulder and they was talking about how they was worried about jk and how he need to come out his room and it’s not even the content of the scene but just like the fact that he ain’t have to be there but he was

and also can’t neglect to mention how he whined for y e a r s about how ain’t nobody come to visit him on set when he was filming the videos for his first mixtape like mans wouldn’t let that go and then how touched he was when they made appearances on his daechwita set even if he couldn’t express it properly

and how he begged for them to make cameos in the video and how happy he was when jin and jk did

and he doesn’t ever forget to mention whenever him and hobi hang out he’s like yeah we went for a drink and dinner and talked and blah blah

he loves it when people make an effort to be around him

now acts of service i got this all on a whim okay like… listen… we all been there we have all watched an ideal type video on youtube don’t lie okay

and up there it be like he want someone to bring him food in the studio and take care of him and stuff like that and in this case the math maths

you really can see that in how he treats others

like just the other day i saw a gifset somewhere and the boys were like yeah yoongi always takes care of us he don’t make eye contact tho

not to mention how he always cooks for them when they go on trips

and even though he ain’t give seokjin his song yet we know it’s coming! eventually!

and whenever they be ganging up on jungkook yoongi always the first one to be like “stooooppp you gon make him cry”

my baby just always be doing little things for others to show he cares okay 🥺

so if you got with my baby you gotta take care of him 🥺🥺🥺

he really needs someone that understands him bc he not gonna say anything

if you’re all hanging out together make sure you’re by his side so he knows you want to be there with him

if he’s busy stuck in his studio drop by even if you just end up laying on the couch he’s gonna appreciate you just being with him

and bring food my baby getting buff he need all the veggies and protein he can get

hoseok:

receiving gifts

i really had to think about this one but once i connected the dots yeah it makes total sense

like he looooves shopping loves getting stuff so when other people give him stuff i know he just 🥰🥰🥰

hobi lights up when he gets gifts they don’t always have to be big but i know he very much appreciates them

like how in the army corner store festa video when asked to bring something meaningful to them he brought those figurines which was the first gift a fan gifted him

which makes me think about how those limited edition figurines dropped and hobi was like i need to get one for namjoon and then namjoon was like i need to get one for hobi and so they ended up with like two of them or something like that

also from festa in the little photo booth mission every time he won a prize he was like yaaasss omg and was thinking of ways to put it to use like when he got that picture frame he immediately stuck them film strips in it he probably got it hanging in his room or in his studio by now tbh

and i think it was on the canada run bts episode where jk bought him those slippers and he was super happy

even when they were in hawaii and him and jin were hungry on the bus and he asked jin for gummies like ofc jin had to get on his nerves first but when he finally gave him his snacks he went from 😐 to 😚

or how he still has that change purse that namjoon bought him in malta (probably still got the money in there too tbh)

speaking of malta got me thinking about how tae went out of his way to win hobi that flamingo bc he said he’d never seen one and when tae gave it to him he went parading it around telling everyone that tae won it for him and then said he was gonna put it in his studio

and he got that chicken leg pillow they gave him from you quiz on the couch in his studio

and i think it was from the 2020 winter package he was so happy when jin bought him those ugly little troll elf things with the hat you know what i’m talking about

and he commented like three times when jungkook drew that picture of him for his birthday

and we know mans be giving gifts too

like how he got yoongi that coffee truck on the set of daechwita

and when they were on the speak yourself tour and he went out shopping on a day off and bought jin a sweater or something

and how he slaved through like 2 or 3 lives making bracelets for the members and then gave it to them on the bang bang con live

and the most devastating one of all when they had to give each other gifts i think it was on the run episode with all the water games but i could be wrong anyway and like most of them gave each other gag gifts like their merch or whatever but hobi gave jimin (and the rest of the members) a cd for his song promise it had a little photo book in it and everything 😭😭😭

so like whoever gets with this fine specimen gon have to throw a few dollars together to make sure this man is kept

not really i’m sure he doesn’t expect you to sell your car for a gucci peacoat or your soul for a rolex

but if you did decide to save up for some time to get him a little extravagant gift i know he’d more than appreciate it

more often than not though it’d be the little things that got to him like if you bought a simple t shirt from the store but then kinda like upcycled it drew little doodles on it wrote “i’m your hope” somewhere on it there would definitely be a picture uploaded of him on weverse or twitter wearing it

or if you decided to compile the pictures of you two together into a scrapbook or something he’d keep it somewhere accessible like in a drawer in his desk in his studio and flip through it with a little smile on his face when he’s missing you

and even if it was something even smaller than that like say he mentioned in passing that like idk he was out of eggs or something and you bought him some he just might marry you

jimin:

physical affection/quality time

the first thing that comes to mind with this for jimin is how he comforts his boys

like there’s so many behind the scenes clips from tour where like jk or tae will be upset with their performance and crying and jimin would be the one to come up behind them and hug them and wipe their tears

same concept for that one moment in bon voyage 3 when they told him that tae was crying and he just kinda hugged him and wiped his tears and hovered around him to make sure he was okay

or when they left hobi at the gas station in bon voyage 4 and then went back to pick him up he still hugged hobi even as he was laughing evilly

also in bon voyage 4 when they went on that helicopter tour and they was on the mountain and him and tae tackled each other and was rolling in the snow

and he is just like always in jk arms like he just jumps on him for no reason like in that video where lee hyun is acting as one of bts’ management

also in the behind from i think when they were practicing for the 2019 bbmas i believe at some point jungkook was holding that man spinning him in circles or sumn like that

and there’s also that one comeback show when him and tae were in the comic book cafe and they were just cuddled up together looking at tae’s phone practicing english i think

and on that one joon live when him and tae crashed and just caused a whole lot of commotion i’m pretty sure at one point they were cuddled on the couch and then jimin told tae his breath stinks and tae proceeded to open his mouth over the air purifier

anyway clearly he is a man with hands

but he also is someone who loves to spend time together it’s important to him

like i just think about how when they had their “break” back in 2019 he talked about how he just traveled the entire time and he went with various friends and family

and i’m pretty sure it was bon voyage 3 when they were doing their friendship trips and trying to make fresh pairings or whatever he was like i don’t think there’s any surprising pairing with me and it’s like… that’s true

like you got minimoni, minimini, jikook etc… all tried tested and true man gets around his band

and he’s the main one who’s always like “yeah bro we should live in the dorms until we’re 50”

and he always talks about how he can’t be alone and how he’s always gotta be doing something with someone

and his lives!!! his lives!!!! when he spends time with us it’s always so intimate and personable

like you can’t tell me that i ain’t have dinner with him and jin after a show in the hotel room and we drank off camera even after the staff told us we couldn’t 😤🤚

there’s also that time he went live and someone said they had some kind of condition and then he took it upon himself to look it up and try to find treatments

just liiiike whenever he goes live every minute counts bro and yes this is me trying to summon him bc we ain’t had a solo jimin live since october and i know they super busy but i miss 😓😓😓

so for this mans i just feel like you just gotta really be with him

just like he makes every second count you have to as well

like he’s gonna want to have your full attention and you’ll definitely have his he’ll be obsessed with you tbh

however he doesn’t always have the time and his schedule definitely isn’t the most accommodating so he’s gonna want someone to put in the effort

but as long as you make sure he knows you’re all in he’ll always meet you halfway

taehyung:

words of affirmation

now this one has been stated explicitly multiple times and he’s admitted it himself

specifically during let’s bts in their segment within the segment and namjoon was like taehyung the kind of person who grows from compliments

and i ain’t even got the right words to express how i feel about the smile he couldn’t help when hobi had them all tell tae that they like him

not to mention the story he told during the festa video last year about how he always tried his very best to get hobi to praise him and how disappointed he was when hobi didn’t get it

and i may be tripping but didn’t like earlier this year he didn’t post on weverse or twitter for like a month or so because he wanted to keep seeing us say how much we miss him???

and in bon voyage season 2 when they had to write letters to each other and he wrote his to jimin and then cried when he read it

there’s also a moment in bon voyage 4 when he and rm were about to sleep in the same space and he asked joon if he could cuddle him and joon was like 🥴🤚 how bout no and tae was like you do like me right? and rm was like yeah of course but let’s not cuddle bro

also in that weverse magazine interview they did he talked about how depressed he got when they weren’t able to perform and he only felt happy for a while when he was able to communicate with us

and in turn he’s very verbally supportive as well

like at that one fan sign they was talking about bon voyage and they asked army which season they liked better 1 or 2 and someone said 1 and taehyung was like “😐 now why would you say that bc namjoon won’t even in that” even though really it was only like 1 or 2 episodes he missed out on

and like he’s always hyping seokjin up like when they were doing the map of the soul 7 comeback live and jin was talking about how he wasn’t a good dancer and taehyung was like 😡 don’t say that bc it’s not true you’re good and you always been good

and in the let’s bts thing again it was important for him to let jimin know that he likes him best like they really are best friends y’all 😭

and when he talks about how much he loves suga’s raps

and that moment in the soop when he set up a date for him and jungkook to talk out whatever tension they had or whatever

and how during those individual be interviews he had hobi flustered when he complimented his passion for music

and he always be saying like the most comforting stuff on weverse letting army know he’s there as a source of comfort at all times even when he can’t be

like this man is literally the creator of borahae meaning that we’ll love and support each other for a long time

so if you get with tae communication is key!!!

you gotta tell him how you feel about him

if you’re out and about and see something that reminds you of him? tell him. if you like his hair that day? tell him. if he does something that pisses you off? tell him. if you miss him? tell him. if you love him? tell him.

like y’all gon talk about everything and nothing at all some days you’ll be discussing aliens and parallel universes other days you’ll be like discussing the future of your relationship

and ya know he a busy man so you not always gon be having long and drawn out heart to hearts so i think he’d love it if you just sent messages throughout the day something that let him know you were thinking of him even if it’s just a picture of a possum you chased down or if you spammed him with tiktoks you thought he’d like

he’d be looking at his phone like 🥰🤳 thinking about how much he loves you

jungkook:

physical affection

now this lil menace right here is touchy

always down for a cuddle

like on the canada episode of run when they were about to pick out rooms and he was like firmly latched onto hobi on the couch while they waited

and when they were practicing home for the magic shop muster and yoongi sat in the arm chair and immediately jk sat in his lap and tae sat in his lap

or how in in the soop after they were done eating he just went and latched onto jin’s back

and how tae had went to go wake jk up that one time and they ended up falling asleep

or how jk had went to wake up jimin that one time and they ended up falling asleep

there was just a lot of jk cuddles going on in in the soop so i’ll move on

let’s talk about the pool water debate run episode where in the end jk decided to latch onto jin’s back yet again

i’ll take this moment to mention the jinkook moment that lives in my head rent free for no valid reason it’s from the life goes on countdown video where they were reading the post cards and he was wearing that big pink sweatshirt and jin was wearing that pink and black bomber jacket and jk just grabbed jin’s arm and held onto it and played with it and when he was done he just threw it away i… i think about that moment a lot there’s an entire section in both my head and heart dedicated to that moment anyway continuing on

i’ll talk about that time they were backstage for a show and they had them blow up mattresses and suga was minding his business resting and jk just rolled up and moved his legs and laid beside him and then hobi decided to pile on top

and whenever they’re on stage he’s always the most delighted when joon would suggest a hug he’d be the first one over there nose scrunched up giggling he loves it

there’s also many instances in interviews and lives where he just can’t keep him hands to himself

just like that last butter live when tae ended up with a crown of forks thanks to mr kook

and he never misses an opportunity to feel up joon

which makes me remember that time he kissed namjoon on the forehead

and he is just always carrying jimin for some reason

so in conclusion… physical affection

and if he was your mans you’d be on the frontlines of receiving all he has to give

not necessarily in public or around a lot of people but in a space where you both were comfortable yes

you’d just have to accept that when you’re standing around he’s going to give you a shoulder/neck/back massage for no particular reason

and he will latch onto you in different positions for extended periods of time

and you gotta do the same! like that’s your man! go give him a hug! a kiss! let him know you love him

cuddle up to him while y’all chilling watching tv

hold his hand while y’all talking

just like grab onto him and never let him go

he’ll be hoping you don’t

[amesstm]

Prom???

Pairing: Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader

Word Count: 2K

Summary: After coming to Japan as a transfer student from America your senior year, you miss out on prom. The Nekoma volleyball team comes to cheer you up.

A/N: I come from America so this is based off of what I know about prom. I know that prom is usually an American and Canadian thing, but just imagine a big dance where people dress fancy but dance dirty on the floor lol 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Prom was the crème de la crème of every American senior’s year. Unfortunately, being a transfer student in Japan meant that you had to travel to Japan in April to start the school year. Now, you were missing out on spending prom season with your friends.

A soft sigh unwillingly escaped your throat as you sat down on the bench in the gym. You pulled out your clipboard, ready to observe any improvements made from the boys today. Since you were spending a year in Japan, you decided that you could afford being a manager for Nekoma’s volleyball team. After some convincing from Kenma, your host family’s son, you agreed. Since you had some knowledge about volleyball from watching the Summer Olympics so much, it wasn’t too difficult fully understanding the tiny details of the game.

You were so engrossed in the multiple papers you had on each member that you didn’t realize that Kuroo, the captain, sat beside you.

“What’s wrong, Y/N-chan?” He asked, his minty breath wafting your face. You turned to look at him and was met with concerned eyes that dared you to lie to him. Kuroo always knew what was wrong. Not only was he good at reading the spikers’ movements, but he could also read you just as easily.  

“Let me show you,” you replied as you reached for your phone. You unlocked it and tapped on some photos your friends sent you. They had taken the time to send pictures of prom dresses they thought were cute. Your heart ached when you remembered that you wouldn’t receive a reply until they woke up.

“Ah, it’s... prom, right?” Kuroo said before turning it into a question. You couldn’t expect him to know when most Japanese schools don’t have formal dances.

You nodded with a small pout, “Yeah, prom is very huge in America. I didn’t always want to go but going with my friends seemed really fun.”

Kuroo hummed, probably not understanding the significance of a school dance. After all, the last time he went to one was probably a festival in middle school. But the way you were pouting tugged at Kuroo’s heart.

The captain promised himself he’d focus on getting into nationals and graduate. His dreams could afford no distractions – but why was he enjoying the feeling of being sidetracked? An idea lit itself in Kuroo’s head. He knew exactly what to do.

~

After returning to school on Monday, you witnessed Kuroo act even more weird than usual. You sat behind him in advanced English, waiting for class to start. Obviously, the class was really easy so you could afford not preparing for now.  

Then, you heard murmuring from Kuroo as he hovered over a piece of paper on his desk. Peering from the side, you grumbled that you couldn’t see what he was muttering. His broad shoulders were definitely useful on the court for blocking, but now they were blocking your view.

“Kuroo-san, what are you doing?”  

Your sudden voice must’ve surprised him, because he jumped in his desk and quickly hid the paper. The whites of his eyes were as clear as day and his mouth was still agape. Something clicked in your head.  

“Was that a...” You raised a finger and pulled out your phone to look up the right words. “Was that a dirty note?”

A rush of hyena laughter met your ears, causing everyone to look at you two. You looked up from your phone to see Kuroo hunched over from laughing so hard. You rolled your eyes as he forced himself to calm down, heaving all the while.

“Why? Are you curious, Y/N-chan?” He asked, with his eyebrows wiggling at you. He teased in a manner that could be interpreted in a manner that needed no translation. All you did was blink at him. He whined, “Don’t look at me like that. You look like Kenma when you do that.”

“Kenma taught me well,” you replied, sticking your tongue out. “So, what was that paper?”

“O-oh, I’m just preparing something,” Kuroo said, scratching the back of his neck. A soft pink tinged his cheeks and his eyes averted from yours.  

How suspicious, but cute.

You shrugged, he’d surely tell you what it was sooner or later. Besides, the arrival of the teacher meant you couldn’t pester Kuroo for an answer now.  

Soon, the school day ended with Kuroo still acting odd(er than usual). Kenma found you by your locker to begin your usual walk to the gym after school. Despite attending Nekoma for a month now, you still managed to lose yourself in the big halls. Hence, Kenma was your personal guide unless you two had different classes – aka you two never saw each other except for lunch.  

Once you were finished, Kenma and you walked towards the gym. “Are you excited for practice, Kenma?”

As usual, his short answer was: “No.”

You chuckled, “One day, there’ll be a reason you’re excited for volleyball.”

“Doubt it,” he murmured in return.

A comfortable silence settled between you two. Kenma tapped away on his game and you enjoyed the last bits of sakura season. Sure, the pollen gave you sinus headaches but the photo shoot you had when you first came here was worth it.  

A small trail of sakura flowers led to the entrance of the gym. You joked, “Someone must like sakura flowers.”

Kenma sneezed softly and muttered. “He’s lucky that I like him.”

You raised an eyebrow, about to ask what he meant, until Kenma opened the doors. Upon entering the gym, there was a center of sakura flowers accumulated in the middle. With a grin, Kuroo held up a sign that said: The only flower I want to take to prom is you. ♡

The bold, red letters in English were written with a shaky hand until touched up by someone more confident. Sakura flowers were carefully drawn and colored it, with patches of glitter thrown here and there.  

“Awh, is this for me, Kuroo?” You asked, a smile bursting onto your face. You raised your hands to your face, shielding yourself from the cameras that were pulled out to record.  

Kuroo nodded with a proud smile on his face. You approached him, unsure what to do. After all, this was the first time someone made such an effort into asking you out. “I don’t know if I did this right. I saw some videos of ‘promposals’ on YouTube, but I don’t-”

“This is perfect,” you said, quieting him by putting a finger to his lips. Then, the manager in you began to think logically about how this ‘prom’ would be pulled off. “W-wait, how are you going to do this dance?”

“Don’t worry, I got it covered,” Kuroo smiled confidently, raising a thumb at himself.

~

“Kenma, have you ever went shopping for anything but video games or food?” You asked, as you two drifted to a dress shop that Kenma’s mom had to recommend. Clearly, Kenma knew nothing about these types of shops until you asked him where they would be.  

“Only if Kuroo drags me along to get sports gear,” he said with a shrug. His eyes were glued to a game, but he was still able to reply to you as if he gave you his absolute attention. You could never understand how he has yet to walk into a pole, either.

You shrugged, “Makes sense.”

Upon entering the shop, you two were immediately met with rows on rows of dresses. Drawn by a magnetic pull, you flew towards a section containing your favorite color. Eyes glimmering with the giddiness of a kid in a candy shop, you placed your hand on the silky material.

The best part? It had pockets.

Grinning, you asked a worker if you could try it on. Kenma mindlessly followed you to wait outside the changing rooms. The straps were a bit difficult to sort through; otherwise, it fit like a glove. You stepped out of the fitting room, and called Kenma to attention.

After he paused his game, Kenma looked up. His usual cat eyes widened slightly. “You look pretty.”

You beamed, “Should I get it then?”

Kenma nodded rigorously. Underneath his breath, too low for you to hear, he murmured, “Kuroo will like it a lot.”

~

The volleyball team managed to secure the gym for the event and decorated it to the fullest. You don’t know how they did it in such little time. The lights were dimmed except for some lights that you recognized from Kenma’s set up in his room. Little things here and there were objects that you remember the boys talking about in previous conversations.  

Coach Nekomata smiled kindly as you entered. “You look beautiful, Y/N-san.”

“Thank you, coach,” you replied. “Thank you for doing this, too. I know it must’ve been a lot of work.”

“Oh, it wasn’t! Kuroo set it all up and I just watched,” the old man replied with a hearty laugh straight from his chest.  

You blushed. Kuroo kept his promise. He said he would make it happen and it did. Speaking of which, your date had come prepared from the coach’s room. A small box was in his hands.  

Unlike Kuroo’s usual, confident swagger, he seemed timid as he approached you. “I-I also saw that prom dates give this to each other.”

He opened the box, revealing a beautiful corsage that matched perfectly with your dress.  

“How did you know my dress would look like this? I wanted it to be a surprise.” You pouted.

Kuroo blinked, “Kenma sent me a photo.”

You also blinked. Then you looked to the traitor pudding-head beside the rooster. “KYANMA!”

Blood rushed to your cheeks and you hid behind your hands once more. You murmured, “Ah, I was in my natural state.”

“You’re breath-taking, don’t hide yourself from me,” Kuroo whispered into your ear, hints of a smile in his voice.

Now you were definitely red and about to burst. You laughed, “You’re just saying that.”

“I don’t give away compliments for no reason.” His genuine smile melted away the insecurities that bubbled to the surface. With your facial expression softening, he took the cue to lead you to the dance floor.  

The different colored lights cascaded to drape Kuroo in beautiful lighting. Red was truly his color, as his face was shaded with the hue. Something about the mood shifted as his hands made their way to your waist.  

Deciding to take the lead, Kuroo swung you two back and forth. The song was slow, so he adjusted as needed to match the beat. Should you have told them that American proms were basically fancy clubs with promiscuous music? Probably; although Coach Nekomata would definitely not approve.  

Oh well, I can grind on Kuroo later. Wait -  

“Hey, my eyes are up here,” Kuroo chuckled as he lifted your face to look up at him.

You pouted with a glare, “I-I wasn’t looking at you like that!”

“You wish you were,” Kuroo laughed as your eyes widened.

“Why are you like this?” You scoffed with a roll of your eyes.  

“But you like me, don’t you?” He smirked as his eyes danced with mischief.  

Okay Sky-Daddy, please kill me. As if Kuroo read your face, he hastily said, “Don’t worry, I like you, too.”

Your breath hitched, “But I’ll have to go back to America, Kuroo.”

“I know. Trust me, I know,” Kuroo sighed. “But in the little time that I’ve known you, I’ve already started to like you. Heck, it feels dangerous.”

“I don’t want to start something that might end on other sides of the globe,” you admitted.  

Kuroo’s eyes drooped, “I know.”

“But I want to try,” you reassured. How could you possibly express yourself in a different language right now? Then, you remembered the phrase. It couldn’t be directly translated to English, but the feeling was universal. “It’s like ‘koi no yokan’.”  

Kuroo grinned with a soft laugh, “Exactly. So, we’ll try dating?”

“Yes, Kuroo,” you affirmed with a smile gracing your features.  

“Call me Tetsu.”

[cobaincreates]

the fuck is a touron?

warnings: language, smut (wrap it you’re smart), 18+

count: 7k+

hehehehehe ;)

part two!

gif cred

— — —

“i was one hundred percent trying to teach him a lesson, but he’s too stupid to realize that you’re not supposed to lend one of my t-shirts to a random girl. god, he’s so dumb.” liza shook her head in frustration, her thumb absentmindedly scrolling along her phone screen.

“didn’t you guys used to be friends?” you asked, picturing the girl in mind. you could’ve sworn you’d seen liza with her at some point.

liza made a noise and bit her lip. “maybe he’s just trying to get back at me for something. i can’t think of anything i did though.”

“maybe they’re just messing with you. you know, because you did sleep with both of them.” liza made another dismissing noise. you took a sip from a glass she had given you from her kitchen. it was just beyond the doors behind you from where you sat on her massive deck.

you had taken it upon yourself to visit your friend before the last few weeks of summer ended. you’d see her back at school anyways, but she had asked you several times to make the trip out to see her. you’d been enjoying the ocean breeze and the hospitality of liza and her dad. it had only been a few days since you arrived; you hardly thought about leaving.

so far you had been biking around with liza through small sections of her neighborhood. she pointed out a few of her favorite spots, mostly trying to pass the days with you here, but also to make you feel welcome. she had taken you shopping off the island today, which resulted in a thousand more steps recorded on your phone and a new bathing suit to wear. you had also found a little lighthouse souvenir figure that you planned to put somewhere in your room once you got back home. you had dinner at a restaurant that liza said was one of her favorites, then you took the ferry back at sunset and now here you were, sharing a whole box of wine.

you snuggled further into your sweatshirt and pulled a pillow onto your lap. you stared out at the ocean in liza’s backyard and imagined how insane it was that she lived right on the beach. a small fire sat in front of you, warming your legs. liza put her phone down and took a large sip of her wine.

“anyone cute here? think i’d be into some east coast beach boy.” you mentioned, squinting your eyes playfully as you looked over at her.

she shrugged with her head on the back of the couch. “i mean there’s a few i went to school with, but you don’t want to mess with them.”

“how come?”

“they’re practically heartless. they’d totally leave you in the dirt.” she said. “well, sand.”

you snorted. “are you speaking from experience? because if so, i’m more than willing to get into a fight in your honor.”

“shut up.” she laughed. “you don’t want anyone from here, trust me.”

“no, trust me when i tell you that i do. i haven’t gotten laid in months and i’m crawling out of my skin.” you admitted as much as you didn’t want to. it had been a simple thought before getting on the plane to visit and you didn’t think you’d bring it up, but you couldn’t stop thinking about it. even while shopping you were mostly on the prowl. they should’ve had a store to buy a one-night stand. you were on vacation, you deserved to indulge.

“i have so much pent-up frustration. i need someone to sex me right now.” you continued, drinking the rest of the wine just to add to your tipsy rambling.

“jesus.” liza stared at you.

“i don’t want to tell you this but i was literally fantasizing about your dad earlier.”

“ew!”

“i’m sorry!” you laughed. “i mean, he’s single so it’s fair game.”

“absolutely not!” she looked at you like you were crazy, and you couldn’t stop laughing as she got up to get more wine, taking your glass too.

back home, there wasn’t anybody you wanted to sleep with. you didn’t really make any friends in high school that you kept into college and it was hard when most of your friends lived in different states. sure, there were apps for hookups and for you to meet new people around you, but you had a thing about technology tracking that made your skin crawl.

liza came back less disgusted with you, handing you your glass. you sipped on it and stared at the fire, not feeling tired in the slightest from how much you walked. beside you, liza picked up her phone again and scrolled, tapped.

“i don’t know why i’m doing this, but there is someone i might be able to set you up with.” she said minutes later.

you perked up with optimism and shifted on the couch. “mhm, give me more.”

“his name’s topper.” she said, her phone illuminating her face with a white light.

“you’re kidding.” you deadpanned, your eyebrows furrowing. you figured she was joking, slipping in a harmless pun.

“i’m not.” she bit her lips together, glancing at you to gauge your reaction.

“what kind of name is that?”

“could not tell you, but he’s super chill and i’m pretty sure he’s newly single.” she said, tapping a few times on her phone’s screen. “he was dating someone from his college for months, but i think they broke up since he doesn’t post pictures with her anymore.”

“i just want to fuck him. what does he look like?”

liza tapped a few more times before shining her phone at you. you squinted from the brightness before your eyes adjusted, took in the photo she was showing you. he was in front of a sunset and you could faintly pick out the dirty blonde locks. liza picked a different one that gave you a better view of him.

you let out a delighted hum, smiling slightly. “he looks like an asshole, but fun.”

“i have his number,” she said, turning the phone back to herself. you leaned your side into the couch, readjusting to keep the warmth. the fire cracked as one of the logs shifted.

“text him.” you prompted liza and scooted closer to her to watch her type on her phone. she found his contact and moved her thumbs along the screen.

hey so weird question but would u be interested in hooking up w/ my friend?

the friend in question is not me i swear

“smooth,” you said as she sent the texts.

“i can’t believe i’m helping you with this.” she locked her phone and dropped it into her lap. you shrugged and sipped from the glass, staring into the fire.

you slipped into a regular conversation with liza while she waited for a text. you weren’t giddy for a reply or asking her to check every ten seconds. it didn’t really matter that much to you if you didn’t hookup with anyone or not, you just thought you’d put it out there.

liza had you cracking up, bent over the couch and nearly falling to the floor when her father came outside onto the porch. you settled as you looked up at him, listening to him ask you both if you were doing okay and needed anything. liza was quick to shut his offer down when you gave her a look, jokingly wiggling your eyebrows at her. her dad noticed, looking between you two as you belted out laughing again, this time landing on the wooden deck. liza tried to keep her laughter in, telling her dad that you were fine and that you both were just a little drunk. he nodded and left you two alone.

“god, you suck.” she said once he was out of earshot.

you were now crying from laughter as you sat up. you wiped your eyes and climbed up onto the sofa, taking your glass from the floor. “i’m glad you invited me,” you giggled as you pulled the pillow back onto your lap. you both continued to shake with the aftershock of amusement.

“he texted me.” liza said suddenly as her phone was back in her hands.

“and?” you asked, leaning your side against the cushions. you propped your elbow on top of them and held your head against your hand.

“all he said was ‘pic’.”

“send him one.”

“okay.” she said and turned toward you, opening her camera on her phone.

“should i pose? how does my hair look?” you asked, brushing the back of it just in case it had gotten messy from falling to the floor.

“do something before i send a blurry one.” liza commanded.

you put your hand back against the side of your face and smiled lightly. liza took the photo without the flash, the fire bright enough. she set her phone down again and hit send as you watched her thumb. you watched her screen for a second then looked away, tilting the glass against your lips.

“he said ‘give her my number’.”

“fuck yes.” you said. you reached behind you for your phone, feeling around for a couple seconds before finding it. “okay, what is it?”

liza read his number aloud as you typed it in. you opened your camera and took a selfie, holding the wine glass to your lips and crossing your eyes. you typed, hiii, and hit send.

after having not touched your phone in the past few hours, you moved out of the conversation with him and replied back to a few of your friends. it wasn’t long before he texted back. you opened the message to find a photo sent back to you, tapping on it with an intrigued smile. he took his own selfie, balancing a beer bottle on his head with his own fire lighting up his face in an orange glow. you saw someone’s back behind him, your eyes trailing down to the drawstrings against his chest at the bottom of the photo.

impressive, you sent.

what’s your name?

y/n! what kind of name is topper?

rich people

thought so, you joked. are you sporting salmon shorts and sperry’s with that sweatshirt?

liza was in her own world as you texted topper. you glanced at her, finding her glass propped on her chest so she could slowly sip it. she was texting like a speed racer.

you looked back down at topper’s new message and laughed.

gray sweats and sandals

socks?

no

thank god

you watched the bubbles pop up almost immediately. they disappeared with no message then came back.

liza said u wanted to hook up?

you weren’t sure what to say back. your thumbs floated above your screen for several seconds before you decided just to be honest with him. what’s the worst that could happen?

long story short i’m needy & haven’t been laid in a while

you down?

sure when’s good for you?

“i’m going to get some ice cream.” liza said as she moved off the couch, throwing her phone down on the cushions. “you want any?”

“sure.” you said before typing.

think we’re going to the beach tomorrow so how about sometime in the afternoon? i’ll text you

sounds good, looking forward to it

“oh my god.” you said loudly, dropping your phone.

“what?” liza called from the open door. you could hear her clinking around the kitchen.

“he just sent an eggplant emoji.”

suddenly the clinking of dishes was drowned out as she laughed louder than before. you covered your face and laughed too.

—

the next morning you woke up already feeling too warm. you winced as you felt the heat radiating through your body and you peeled your eyes open. you were still on the couch outside and the sun was happily beating down on the deck. you moaned and pulled a pillow over your head. you remembered that you had finished the boxed wine with liza last night along with ice cream and decided to just sleep outside. with the alcohol and walking, your legs were not prepared to function that late at night.

you lay there for a few minutes until liza’s foot appeared and knocked right into your nose. you flinched and held it as it throbbed, sitting up to throw the pillow at her.

she jerked awake and grimaced at you and the sun. “what?”

“you just kicked me.” you said nasally. you sniffed and checked your nose as it continued to pulse. liza yawned, stretching and sitting up to look around like she forgot where she was.

“today’s going to be a good beach day if it’s this fucking hot.” she grumbled. her hair was wild atop her head, sticking out in every direction. she looked over at you as she yawned again. “breakfast and then beach?”

you nodded, your hand back in your lap as the throbbing subsided. you picked up your dirty dishes and phone and followed liza inside to eat. her dad was already cooking when you two came inside and your mouth watered at the sight of food on the counter. he provided a whole display of drinks, fruit, bread, and eggs that had you contemplating about never leaving.

liza told her dad of your plans for the day while you ate. you kept quiet as you cleared your plate, normally taking at least an hour to fully wake up in the morning. liza seemed almost too chipper in the mornings from what you witnessed. once you finished up and put your plate in the sink at liza’s dad’s request, you went to her room to fish out your new bathing suit. you changed in the bathroom and brushed your teeth along with the rest of your morning routine. you pulled on a t-shirt and shorts over your suit and tied your hair up just as liza knocked to see if you were done.

thirty minutes later, you were on your way to the beach. you held liza’s tote bag in your lap, full of snacks, waters, a speaker to connect to her phone, and towels. you were anticipating the beach, wanting to just run into the water and swim all day.

which is what you did for the next few hours. you munched on some pretzels, drank a ton of water that you had to pee several times, listened to music, and laid out in the sun. you soaked up more sunscreen than you could imagine, reapplying at least ten times. the water felt good whenever you swam to the sandbar with liza and back to the shore.

liza was on her stomach now, her hair still damp. she closed her eyes against the sun while you sat beside her and people-watched.

“when are you going to text topper?” she mumbled against her arm.

you watched an elderly couple read their respective books while sitting beside each other in folding chairs. they sat under a green umbrella, the one reading a james patterson novel with their toes poking out of the sand and the other reading a paperback of some sort with the cover twisted back and wearing a large sun hat.

“i guess i could text him now.” you said, hearing her question.

“i’ll probably head out whenever he gets here. let you two be alone.” she drawled.

you shoved at her shoulder and reached for your phone. you found topper’s conversation and typed quickly to tell him which beach you were at.

you want me to head over there?

you weren’t expecting him to text right away, but you replied back just as quickly.

yes

you put your phone back down under your shirt and lay on your stomach so you could keep an eye out for him. you looked at where the parking lot was, a large area of gravel and tall grass. people were pouring in and out of the beach, little kids in thick foam flip flops kicking up sand while older adults with mass amounts of luggage followed after them.

liza sat up, looking in the same direction and drinking from her water bottle. you flipped over onto your back and closed your eyes, listening to the crunch of sand, the distant chatter, the hush of waves.

“that’s him.” liza said beside you. you couldn’t tell how long it had been. you leaned up onto your elbows and looked behind you, seeing topper walking down the small crest in a white t-shirt and bathing suit bottoms.

“do i look okay?” you asked her as she watched him under her sunglasses. her head turned to you and you didn’t need her glasses off her face to know the look she was giving you.

“i don’t think you should be worrying about that if you’re just going to end up taking your clothes off in front of him.”

“just say yes and move on.” you said, exasperated.

liza laughed to herself and lifted her hand to wave topper over. you watched as he put his phone back into his pocket, lowering his gaze to his sandals as he walked along the sand. you pushed yourself to stand with liza, trying your best to not fix your appearance.

“hey,” liza said easily as topper came closer.

“hey, how’s it going?”

“good. this is y/n, as you already know.” liza gestured to you.

“hi,” you said and gave an awkward wave. it was only awkward with liza there, but you knew she’d be leaving shortly.

“hey.” he said and slipped his hands into his pockets.

it made you smile when you saw his eyes traveling over you for a split second. liza saw it too. you let your own eyes wander as liza said something; you weren’t paying attention to listen. 

“well, i’m going to head out.” liza said as she bent to roll up her towel. you crossed your arms loosely as you watched her. she picked up her bag and turned to you. “let me know if you need me to pick you up.”

you gave her a nod and watched her take a few steps. she turned slightly to point at topper. “be nice to her.” she warned, making you laugh like she was a parent trying to threaten a boy.

once she was out of sight, you sat down on half of the towel so topper could have the other side. he followed you, propping his legs in front of him as you stretched yours out.

“so, are you just here for the weekend?” topper asked after a few moments. you were trying not to let it become awkward, but he had beaten you to it.

“until next saturday.” you said, glancing at him as you leaned back on your hands. you could feel a shell under your palm, so you moved it to a different spot. “liza wanted me to visit before we go back to school.”

topper nodded, his elbows atop his knees. he glanced at a beach ball rolling by, a little kid chasing after it. “are you guys close?”

“you could say that. you went to high school together?”

“yeah, we kind of had the same friends so we hung out at the same places.”

you hummed as you looked toward the shore. you saw a couple kites over the water, their tails whipping in the wind. “it’s nice here.”

“yeah, kitty hawk is nice. i like to paddle board over at kill devil hills.” you turned your eyes to him, finding him already looking at you.

you smiled lightly and squinted at him. “i’ve never been paddle boarding.”

“really? it’s fun. what about surfing?”

“i tried, but i split my lip. i’m sure if i tried again i’d get the hang of it.”

topper nodded with an identical smile, looking at you a little longer. ten seconds later, your heart lurched as topper reached back and took his shirt off. you glanced away with a slight blush, an inkling of a thought about public sex creeping into your mind. topper then stood and reached a hand to you.

“come on, come in the water with me.” he promoted. you felt your heart settle as you took his hand and he pulled you up.

you spent the next fifteen minutes in the water. you glided your hands along the surface as the waves rolled and topper talked animatedly with you. you were enjoying this part as much as you didn’t want to admit, seeing as that all you were looking for was a hookup. but he was so talkative and curious and hardly ever broke the eye contact. you played with the sand under your feet while he dunked himself under the surface then wiped a hand over his face.

when you got out and dried yourself off with liza’s towel, you wiped your face and looked over the soft fibers at topper. you held the towel out to him, dripping onto the sand. you were partially dry for now and itching under your skin. you looked away as he dried himself off but found yourself looking back as he bent over to wipe down his legs. when he stood tall again, you couldn’t help the way your eyes lingered over his glistening stomach, admiring.

“can we get out of here?” you asked.

topper nodded and handed you the towel. he took it back from you after pulling his shirt on so you could do the same. your bottoms were still wet so you left your shorts off for the time being and grabbed the rest of your things. topper fiddled with his keys, brushing the sand off them as he led you to the car lot. the gravel poked at your bare feet, some pebbles sharp enough to make you wince, but you endured it the whole way to a jeep that topper brought you to. it unlocked with a beep and before you climbed in, you put the towel over the seat and brushed your feet off, not wanting to track sand, dirt, or rocks into his shiny vehicle. it felt too high up for you, like you were sitting on the roof rather than inside it, but you closed the door gently.

—

“oh...wow.”

it kind of looked like a forty-year-old woman threw up. and it was all over the house. every room seemed overly decorated, a bunch of different script fonts with those cheesy sayings plastered everywhere. the house had high ceilings and the paint was pristine. it was very bright due to all of the windows and you wondered if there were any dark spots at all inside the house.

even topper’s room had a hint of a forty-year-old woman in it when you walked in.

“i think your mom went overboard at pottery barn.” you joked. “your dad couldn’t monitor her credit card uses?”

topper closed the door behind you as you wandered in, hands clasped gently in front of you. he tossed his keys onto a dark dresser beside the entryway and paused there at your remark.

“i don’t know my dad.” he said.

you turned then from staring at the light blue walls adorned with framed potted plant prints. “oh.” you said, your stomach aching like you’d been kicked. you knew it wasn’t exactly the nicest thing to say, no matter how you said it. normally you could get away with saying things like that, but you had to remind yourself that you didn’t know topper.

“my dad has a habit of canceling a lot of my mom’s outstanding online purchases so i just thought— i’m sorry.” you shifted on your feet, moving your hands to your sides.

topper only shrugged as you went back to scoping out the room. you tapped your thighs awkwardly as a discarded pair of socks seemed pretty interesting to you. when you looked back at topper, you relaxed since he didn’t come off as uncomfortable. you decided to just forget it and push it out of your head as you crossed your arms and reached for the hem of your shirt.

you left it somewhere on the floor before taking a few timid steps to topper. he stayed where he was against the dresser, watching you closely as you came to him. you leaned in close, bringing your hand to the back of his neck while his hands fell easily to your hips. glancing over his features quickly and landing on his mouth, you smiled softly and asked, “is this okay?”

the tension left your body as topper nodded, staring at your own mouth, before you finally gave him a kiss. another had him opening his mouth wider, and another was a little deeper. you smiled against him.

“what?” he asked, his fingertips poking at your sides, his face close.

“i can taste your toothpaste.”

topper’s cheeks tinged a light pink and he pulled you closer against his body, licking into the next kiss and surprising you. you moaned delightedly and brushed your fingers into his damp hair.

you let your hands wander down his neck, shoulders, and chest. he felt firm in all of those places and his shirt soft. you enjoyed the touch of his hands on your face, exploring a new territory, and holding you close. every cell in your body was cheering with delight, like you’d just chugged a liter of water after a sweltering day. a slight buzz started under your fingertips as a familiar tingling grew in your bathing suit bottoms. every touch had you anticipating the end result.

topper’s skin was warm and taut as you slipped a hand under his shirt and played with the waistband of his bottoms. his tongue was fighting with yours while you were fighting with yourself about whether or not to take his shirt or bottoms off first. you couldn’t decide if you wanted to get it over with or to build up to finally having him inside of you. a moan slipped out at the thought. your finger hooked between his lower stomach and his bottoms when he pulled away abruptly at your noise and reached behind him to tug the shirt off.

as it fell to the floor, his hands returned to your hips to tug you flush against him. you could slightly feel him through his bottoms, the want to stick your hand inside now greater than ever. but he had a tight grip on your hips that showed no signs of letting up.

your breath was heavy with his as he turned the both of you so you were the one pressed against the dresser now. his hips brushed into yours slowly as the edge of the dresser dug into your lower back and you let your head fall as another moan came out.

“shit.” you whispered to yourself, your eyes closing at how good it felt. something so subtle that had your knees growing weak.

topper dragged a hand up to your jaw and pulled your lips back to his as he rolled his hips, this time a little firmer. to only add to the pleasure you were feeling, his hand slipped down to your chest where he groped you gently. he massaged a few strokes as you licked at his lip, begging for entrance. he granted it while he fingers flexed over your breast. you gladly let them wander to your back where he pulled at the strings, the damp silky fabric peeling off like those fake tattoo papers you put on when you were younger.

you pushed your now bare chest against topper’s, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and rubbing the heel of your foot into his calf. he turned you around, his hands rubbing down to your ass as he moved to the bed. you crawled backwards at the same pace he crawled over you, faces still close that you could feel his breath growing heavy.

“stop teasing.” you said through clenched teeth as topper nipped at your neck and rolled his hips into yours.

“where’s the fun in that?” he smiled to himself as he skimmed his nose along your neck.

you wanted to kick him, but instead you settled for pulling him back against your lips while letting your hand rest on his shorts again. his hips seemed to sink lower to you at the feeling and you hadn’t even touched him yet.

your ears perked up at a small noise from somewhere while topper went unfazed and slipped his tongue back into your mouth. you ignored the small disruption and focused on him and your hand, now creeping your fingers along his abdomen. just as you barely got a knuckle deep into his bottoms a sliding door opened and banged. topper must’ve been so lost in where your hand was going that he still didn’t move away from you.

“did you hear that?” you pulled away.

“what?” he breathed.

a chorus of shouts and hollers came through the closed bedroom door. topper stilled and closed his eyes. “fuck,” he said before he pushed himself up and crawled away from you.

your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get a footing and leave the room. you stared at the open door, partially annoyed at the interruption and the fact that you were left; naked.

groaning, you got up and pulled on your shirt again so you could follow topper. you went down the hall and found him in what you assumed to be the living room, a large tv on one wall and a white couch placed in front of it. the sliding door you heard led out onto a large deck, where you saw a group of guys all standing. topper’s bare back was facing you as he was in the middle of talking to someone, his shoulders tense.

the moment you stepped on the threshold, your bare feet against the cool metal, all eyes were on you. the guy topper had been talking to looked over his shoulder, instant curiosity on already stimulated features. he had topper’s hand in his, his opposite on his shoulder like he was giving him a pep talk.

“who’s this?” he asked, a sick smile appearing like you’d drop down onto your knees in front of him.

you grimaced very noticeably and spoke for yourself. “someone who’s trying to get laid. who the hell are you?”

a few low whistles rang out and you sent glares to the guys behind the one you were originally looking at. topper looked at you over his shoulder and gave you an apologetic look. you were glad he didn’t ask you to leave or wait for him, because you would’ve gladly left. you were starting to feel the irritation bubble and soon you would be leaving.

“got yourself a nice touron, huh, top?” the friend said, his arm looping around topper’s shoulders as he jostled him. his eyes were blown wide and not just from surprise. you grimaced deeper. they all looked like entitled, pretentious asshats and you were starting not to want anything to do with them. liza was totally right.

“rafe, come on, just leave. i’ll text you later.” topper was saying while you seethed at the door.

“don’t be pussy-whipped, topper. just drop the bitch and come try my new stash.”

“excuse me?” you pushed yourself off the doorway and stepped onto the warm deck. topper stopped you, turning out of rafe’s arm to plant his hands on your shoulders.

“woah, woah,” topper said as you sent daggers at his friend. he just laughed cockily at you and rubbed his chin. “can i text you later?”

your eyes snapped to topper’s pensive face in front of you. “are you kidding?” his hands dropped like you singed him. “don’t even bother.”

topper opened his mouth to call after you as you turned and walked away into the house. you shook your head to yourself and muttered as if anyone was listening. you should’ve known better or you should’ve expected less than for someone to put your needs before their own, much less a total stranger.

you wanted to slam a door behind you in annoyance as you went back to topper’s room to get your shoes. you also wanted to yell in frustration when you remembered your phone was still in his truck; you had wanted zero distractions. his keys were atop his dresser and you debated for a second whether or not to take them— you’d just be getting your things and liza’s towel.

just as you snatched your shoes and bathing suit top from the floor, topper slid into the room behind you and blocked the door. “please don’t leave,” he said quickly.

“unlock your car so i can get my stuff.”

“come on, please stay. i want you to stay.” he took a step closer to you, his pleading expression prominent.

“i don’t want to be here with your shitty friends pretending that we might get along when one of them just called me a bitch for no reason.” you countered and took a step to get by him, only to be caught around the waist. he turned you gently, his expression still the same.

“they’re leaving right now, i swear.”

“i don’t believe you.”

“i swear!” he pleaded. “you can go look yourself or you can take my word for it and we can pick up where we left off.”

you held your steely glare, trying not to show that you were reconsidering. you just really wanted to get laid and the situation only added to that frustration.

instead of smacking him with a sandal, you dropped everything in a heap and attached yourself to him again. his fingers worked quickly to pull your shirt back off, running along your sides and planting themselves on your hips. you nipped at his lip, silently begging him to move faster. he seemed to have the right idea as he turned you and pushed you back to the bed. you landed softly, your legs dangling off the edge, as you watched topper stand tall in front of you. his chest grew bigger as he took a breath and bent down to push his bottoms off. you pulled your lip between your teeth, not hiding the way your eyes flickered down to catch a glimpse. your ears grew hot and your skin pricked at topper’s semi-erection, the tip of him glistening. you wondered what he tasted like.

your gaze broke as topper moved to the side of the bed, rifling through his nightstand. you took that opportunity to take your bottoms off, flicking them somewhere in the room with your foot. you flipped over onto your stomach, grinning to yourself at the full view of topper’s butt. taking a nail between your teeth, you bit it anxiously and watched as he found a condom. you couldn’t help but giggle as he looked over the packaging, reading the date. your feet kicked in the air playfully.

when topper went back to the foot of the bed, you looked over your shoulder as he rubbed himself before rolling the condom on. he combed a hand through his hair, pushing it off his forehead.

“good to go?” you smiled.

he breathed in and nodded. “you want it like this?” he gestured to the way you were on your stomach.

you hummed, nodding your head, and moved a little further down the bed so your hips were at the very edge. topper’s hands fell to your thighs and he spread your knees apart, his skin ghosting against yours as he stepped closer. you took a shaky breath in as the anticipation rose higher— god, you couldn’t wait. deep down, you hoped that it didn’t suck. he had worked you up so much that you were sure you’d feel silly if it wasn’t satisfying.

you tried not to show just how desperate you were as the tip of him teased your folds. you licked your lips, biting down on the bottom one and lay flat on the mattress. his hand gripped your hip now while the other guided himself to your entrance. a high-pitched moan bubbled from your chest and slipped past your lips as topper slowly moved himself inside of you. you let out a lower, satisfied moan when he was fully inside, flush against you. your feet knocked into his back as you adjusted to the size of him. topper tried to control his panting behind you, staring down at your ass and himself fully sheathed by you.

“jesus christ,” he said more so to himself, marveling at the way you fit around him. he imagined it would’ve been so much better without a condom, but this was just as good.

just as you were about to ask him to move, he pulled out of you inch by inch. it felt uncomfortable at the empty feeling, but he came back a little quicker with a low noise of his own.

topper kept a steady rhythm, his hold tight on the skin over your hips and his breath blowing across your back each time he thrusted into you. you reveled in his noises, enjoying the low grunts and the occasional moans to mix with yours and the sounds your bodies were making. his skin started to smack against yours, building as your hands tightened over the comforter. there wasn’t much conversation or dirty talk, which you didn’t mind at the moment since you weren’t looking to lengthen this experience out. you just wanted him to give you what you needed. so far, he was doing a pretty good job.

the bed dipped beside your shoulder as topper’s hips still moved. his body moved closer to yours, the heat from his chest seeping into the skin on your back and giving you a pleasant wave of goosebumps. you opened your eyes to find his fist planted beside you, just as his other hand gripped your shoulder. you pushed yourself up to your elbows, stretching your head backwards. topper followed your movements and bent over you, planting a wet kiss to your lips. he continued to move in you, the hand on your shoulder moving to your neck, his fingertips settling on the sides. you breathed heavily into his mouth at the new sensation as a slew of curses rang out in your mind.

topper licked into your mouth, teasing you and playing with your tongue as his fingertips pressed a little more into your skin. you moaned lowly and broke apart from him. he stayed close, reaching down to your ear and nipping at your earlobe. your mouth opened, eyes screwing shut again as you became aware that you were close to your end. maybe if he just squeezed a little more around your neck, you’d go over the edge.

“topper, i’m going to come.” you breathed, feeling your head knock into his shoulder as he still moved. just then his hips snapped forward, hitting you a little deeper, a little harder. his lips moved off your ear, his breath hitting it now. you tightened yourself around him, not knowing that it brought him even closer while you came over him. you held on to the blanket, knuckles turning white while the same thing happened behind your eyelids. your face screwed up in ecstasy as topper pumped into you deliciously, his movements eventually faltering and stopping as he found his own climax. he groaned loudly into your ear, his breath hot, his grip not too tight, and his come feeling warm even through the condom. if only you’d actually felt it.

topper let go of your neck and you lay flat again, finding your breath with a heaving chest. topper watched the side of your face through hooded eyelids as he stayed hovering over you for a moment. the heels of your feet rested against his back; your thighs no longer tight against his thighs as you relaxed now.

your eye lazily opened as the air in the room met your back, topper moving away from you. you could see him out of the corner of your eye as he carefully touched your side and pulled himself out of you. you made a small noise, almost one of disappointment that he didn’t stay there longer. he disappeared from your sight and your legs promptly closed, your feet still in the air even though you ached from staying like that for a while.

when topper came back, condom gone and thrown away and holding a washcloth, he tapped your lower back. you pushed yourself up slowly, wincing at tired joints and muscles, and thanked him before finding your way to the bathroom. you cleaned yourself up inside, peeing quickly and washing your hands. topper was stepping into his shorts when you came back.

“the fuck is a touron?” you asked as you reached for your bathing suit bottoms almost under his dresser.

topper laughed behind you. “it’s a tourist.”

you made a face and pulled your bathing suit top over your head, tying it in the back. “east coast people are weird.”

topper smiled to himself, glancing at you as you pulled your t-shirt on. he was dressed and ready to go when you were, grabbing his keys and letting you lead the way.

once he pulled into liza’s ridiculously long driveway, you thanked him and jumped out, not wanting to make it awkward. liza was in her kitchen when you walked in, hair a little messy but dry.

she looked up at you from cutting some fruit. a curious smile came onto her lips. her eyebrows rose. “how was it?”

you lifted yourself into one of the chairs at the island counter and reached over for a small piece. “i don’t like his friends so i can see why you warned me but i’m letting it go.” you said, popping the fruit into your mouth.

liza blinked at you, not totally understanding but becoming uncomfortable with how chilled you were compared to the other days you’d been her guest. “wow,” she said. “you really had a whole ass iceberg of frustration, huh?”

“i told you.” you shrugged and laughed once you stared at each other for a moment.

you ate dinner that night with liza and her dad, hearing a few stories and sharing your own over wine and lobster. just after you helped clean up the dishes and the kitchen, you felt your phone vibrate in your sweatshirt pocket. pulling it out, you read texts from a number you hadn’t saved.

i enjoyed today

let me know if you’re ever visiting again😉

⭐️taglist of beauties & babes!⭐️

@tovvaa​ @fttayla @dontjinx-it @moniamaybank @drewstarkeygf @cheshirecat107​ @jjmaybankzz​ @obxcunt​ @honeyyhemmings @dvakat @macey730

[nikki-writes-stuff]

Sweet As Sin - Part One

Summary: After losing your job and having to spend all of your savings, you find yourself completely broke as you desperately search for a job. On a whim, you join a website for sugar babies and sugar daddies can meet, and you’re surprised when you immediately make a connection with Captain America, of all people. But as you grow closer to Steve, you start to realize that there may be a dark side to America’s golden boy. 

Pairing: SugarDaddy!Steve Rogers x Reader, with eventual Dark!Steve Rogers

Read Part Two here!

After reaching a certain point in life, people generally come to the realization that the old adage of “when it rains, it pours” is true. At least, that was what you were thinking as you walked to your car, cheeks still burning with shame from what had just transpired in the grocery store.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but your card was declined. Do you have any other methods of payment?”

The words echoed in your ears as you drove home; of course you didn’t have another method of payment. You hadn’t ever since your job laid you off. You’d been living off of unemployment for a few months now, barely able to afford rent and living off a diet consisting mostly of ramen noodles. What’s more, you’d just had to get your car fixed after someone t-boned you at the intersection across from your house. So now, you didn’t even have any more savings to fall back on. It was even worse than when you’d been in college; back then, there had at least been a goal in mind. Just graduate, you’d told yourself, and then you’ll find a job.

Well, you’d graduated a year ago, and now you were back to where you’d started – broke and desperate.

You slammed the door shut when you entered your apartment, kicking your shoes off before throwing yourself onto the sofa. You lay on your back, looking up at the ceiling as your stomach growled at you.

“Yeah, I’m hungry, too,” you told it. Looks like it was noodles in broth for dinner again, tonight.

Anxiety was constantly clawing at your chest these days, especially now that you were too broke to afford your medication. Later on that evening, you stood over your stove while typing ‘how to make money fast’ into Google. It was a cheap shot, one that you didn’t foresee getting you anywhere, but it was at least something to take your mind off of things while you waited for the water on the stove to heat up.

That was when you saw the add. ‘Finding Arrangements – Where beautiful, successful people find mutually beneficial relationships’ – basically, a website for Sugar Daddies looking for a pretty set of tits to spend money on. You huffed a laugh and scrolled past it, only to return to it a few seconds later.

You chewed on your lip, pondering the link sitting right there on the screen, so engrossed in your thoughts that you jolted when the water started boiling over, sizzling onto the stovetop beneath it. With a curse, you turned down the heat and added the noodles, stirring them in with the seasoning packet as you thought it over. It wouldn’t hurt to check, right? Just a quick glance wouldn’t hurt; if you signed up and didn’t like any of the people you matched with, you could just delete your profile and pretend it never happened.

Your thoughts lingered on the idea as you sat on the couch, still hungry after finishing your meager meal. You’d brought the link up on your laptop, and now you were staring at the site’s homepage. To the right, there was a link to sign up, and to the left, there was a picture of a man in a business suit surrounded by three beautiful women. You gulped, starting to psych yourself out as you stared at the image. But then you closed your eyes and thought about the number in your bank account, and it was enough to motivate you to start typing.

You filled out your personal information and clicked the link the website sent to your email, confirming your new membership. When it came to choose a profile photo, you chose one of yourself from your graduation day. You were standing in your college’s auditorium, wearing a dress made out of gold fabric that was covered with thick black lace; it was your favorite picture of yourself, and you hoped that the dress wasn’t too revealing. It had a high neckline, but it had only come down to about mid-thigh.

You filled out the ‘About Me’ section and then paused when you came to the next question – What are you looking for in a relationship? You thought for a moment, biting your lip and turning over your words before starting to type again.

This is my first time trying out a relationship like this, you wrote. So I would like to find someone who I can trust to guide me through it. In return, I would like to be able to give my (you cringed as you typed the next two words) Sugar Daddy a fulfilling, comfortable relationship in return.

After reviewing your profile, you uploaded it, forcing yourself to sit back from your laptop and breathe. It was out there now; people would see it. Wealthy, presumably powerful people would see it. You closed your computer and hurried to put a movie on, choosing one of your old favorites; it had helped you when you were feeling anxious before.

By the time you finished the movie, you’d mostly calmed down, controlling your nerves until they were just a dull ache in your chest. Before you stood up and went to bed, you checked your phone, eyes bulging when you saw that you already had five replies to your profile.

You opened your notifications, scrolling through the different profiles. Four of them were from men with one of them being from a woman. Your nose wrinkled up when you saw that one of the men were in his 70s, and you quickly deleted his message without even reading it. The next one was in his early 50s, and his profile picture was of him standing in front of a car that looked like it cost more than the entirety of your college tuition. You didn’t delete his message, but you definitely felt dismayed as you skimmed through the rest of them.

You paused, though, when you saw the last one. His profile said that he was 38, making him the youngest of those that had replied to you. His username was Captain_Grant, and his profile only showed his silhouette outlined against a setting sun. The only thing you could see about his features were his defined, slightly-crooked nose and the shadow of a beard against his jawline, but you were more interested in seeing the message he’d sent you.

Good evening, miss. I hope you’re having a nice day. I saw on your profile that you liked to read?

You furrowed your eyebrows, laughing a little. The other ones had pretty much sent you the same thing – “hi”. One of them had had the courtesy of adding a smiley face afterwards, but the fact that this guy had actually taken the time to read your profile made him stand out amongst the rest.

Good evening, you typed back. I do love to read; right now I’m in the middle of a great book.

His reply came only about a minute after you sent your response.

What’s it called?

You typed out the title of the book. After another minute, Captain sent you a picture. You held your breath as you opened the attachment, praying that it wasn’t a dick pic, and you were pleasantly surprised to see a photo of a bookshelf. The book you’d mentioned was resting on it along with a few others by the same author.

I’m a fan of theirs, too, as you can see.

You grinned and got up, taking a quick photo of your own bookshelf and sending it to him. You’d bought it from IKEA years ago, and its thin shelves had started to sag under the weight of all of your books, but you loved it anyways.

You have quite the collection, miss.

You chuckled at how polite he was and sent him a message that he call you by your first name.

‘Miss’ just seems so formal, don’t you think?

I was going more for polite, but I see what you mean. Well, then, you should call me Steve. ‘Captain’ isn’t really formal so much as it’s just weird. …I’ve been told I’m not good at picking out profile names.

You giggled at that; Steve seemed like a dork. But a cute one.

I think your profile name is great, for the record, but I’ll stick with Steve. What made you join this website, Steve?

It took him a few minutes to respond, and you worried for a second that you’d asked something too personal. But as you got ready for bed, you saw that he’d finally responded.

I’m an old fashioned kinda guy, and in the past I’ve been told that I’m a bit too…overbearing in a relationship. But I’ve always believed that a man should take care of the woman he’s with. So a friend of mine suggested this site, and I figured I would try it out. You’re the first girl who I liked enough to send a message to, though.

You smiled at that, feeling warmth bloom in your chest.

What made me different from the rest?

All the other girls on here only talked about what they wanted to get out of a relationship in their profiles. You were the only one who mentioned what she wanted to give.

You felt as if butterflies were flying around your stomach, and your thumbs started typing of their own accord.

Do you think we could meet sometime? Maybe grab a cup of coffee?

I would love to, doll. I’m out of the country right now, but I get back in a week. How about we meet up then? Your profile said you live in Brooklyn; is that right?

It sure is; I’ve lived here ever since I finished college.

You’re a girl after my own heart; I grew up in Brooklyn. There’s a bagel shop that also serves coffee that I highly recommend. We could meet there if you’re up for it.

You didn’t even think before you answered him back.

I wouldn’t miss it for the world.

________

Over the next three days, you and Steve messaged each other as much as possible. He was so easy to talk to; you’d almost forgotten about the financial element of your relationship. During the day, when he was busy with work, you found yourself missing him. Right around the evening, you would start jumping for your phone any time it buzzed, and your heart would sink with disappointment when it wasn’t Steve.

You were on such a high from meeting Steve that you’d forgotten all about the things that were causing you anxiety. That was, until your landlord sent you an email talking about how rent was going to be raised an extra $50 each month. The news had washed over you like a bucket of iced water, sending you into the worst panic attack you’d had since college.

You’d spent the next few hours either pacing across your living room or crying in bed, curled up as that same feeling of helplessness that had haunted you for the past few months settled over you heavily. You hadn’t even realized that your phone was buzzing. At least, not until the fifth or sixth buzz. Wiping away your tears, you pulled your phone out of your pocket and opened it up, seeing several missed messages from Steve.

Hey, doll, just got done with work for the day.

How was your day?

You ok, doll? You’re usually around by now.

Are you ok?

I’m sorry for hovering, I’m just worried about you.

You there?

You felt guilt settle over you as you began to type with trembling fingers.

I’m so sorry, Steve. I just had a really rough day; I didn’t even realize that my phone was going off.

His reply was instantaneous.

God, you scared me, doll. Are you alright? What happened?

My landlord raised the rent by an entire $50. Rent is due by the end of the week, and I have no idea how to come up with the money.

You sniffled and waited for him to reply, and when he did you felt you felt your tears subside for a brief moment.

Is that all? That’s why I’m here, hon. Do you have a PayPal?

Steve… Are you sure? This is so much.

You could almost hear his laughter in his next reply.

Doll, I promise that $50 is NOT a lot to me. Besides, that’s part of this whole thing, isn’t it? Me taking care of you?

But I haven’t done anything for you in return…

He waited a few more minutes before responding.

Well… What if you did something for me tonight? Would that make you feel better?

Your felt your heart start to beat faster at his words, wondering what he would have you do.

What do you have in mind? you replied, trying to keep your words neutral.

Give me your phone number and let me call you?

Your breath puffed out at such a simple response, and you sent him your number without a second thought.

A few seconds later, your phone began to came, and unknown number appearing on your screen. You took a deep breath, feeling your heartrate skyrocket once more; you’d only known him for a few days, and yet a simple phone call from him was enough to make you feel breathless.

You fumbled with your phone, accepting the call and hesitantly raising it up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Hey, doll. It’s Steve. Although… Well, that was probably obvious, right?”

Your laugh sounded more like a hiccup, and you cringed at the sound, trying to blink away the tears that were still trying to escape.

“Hi, Steve,” was all you could sigh. “It’s…really good to hear your voice.”

And it really was; it was somehow even better than you’d imagined it – not terribly deep, but warm, so warm that you wish you could curl up and get him to read bedtime stories to you.

“Have you been crying?” he asked, a touch of worry working its way into his voice.

“Oh, um… Yeah,” you sighed. “This whole rent thing has really got me anxious.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he replied. “Can you give me your email address?”

You gave it to him, hearing the typing of a keyboard in the background.

“Thanks, doll. Just give me a minute, ok? I’m still trying to get better with my typing skills.”

You chuckled, picturing him typing with his two pointer fingers, but you still didn’t understand what he was asking you to give him a minute with.

“What are you doing, Steve?” you asked.

“Just wait; I’m almost done.”

After a few more seconds of typing, you felt your phone buzz, and you pulled it away to see that it was an email from PayPal. Your eyes went wide as you opened it, audibly gasping when you saw the message waiting for you when you opened your account. You have $250 waiting to be accepted.

“Steve!” You heard his laugh from the other line, and for a second you were caught off guard; you immediately loved the sound more than you’d loved any other laugh you’d ever encountered.

“This is too much!” you cried out. “I only needed $50! Steve, I’m no mathematician, but you gave me two hundred more than that!”

Steve only laughed again.

“I won’t apologize for taking care of my girl,” he said, making your cheeks heat up at the term of endearment. “You deserve it; you’ve had a rough day. Go out and get a massage, or buy something nice for yourself. Do something that’ll relieve some stress.”

Your eyes went half-lidded for a second at the thought of a massage; you couldn’t remember the last massage you’d gotten. But no; you needed to be smart with your money.

“Well… Thank you, Steve,” you sighed. “I can’t tell you how much I appreciate it.”

“Every penny is worth getting to hear your voice,” he murmured. “It’s even prettier than I imagined it.”

“Steve…no…”

“No?”

“You gotta stop saying such nice things. It’s bad enough through text; actually hearing you say them is gonna make me spontaneously combust.”

Steve’s laughed rumbled across the receiver once more.

“Well try your best not to. At least not until we meet face-to-face.”

“Tell me about it. I still don’t know what you look like.”

You could tell by his voice that Steve was smiling when he spoke next.

“What do you imagine I look like?”

You grinned and stretched out in bed, your anxiety from before completely melting away.

“Well… You’re probably tall,” you started. “No… You’re definitely tall. I can tell.”

“Really? What gave it away?”

“You just seem like a tall person.” He chuckled at that, but you kept going on. “I could tell from your profile picture that you have a beard, and I bet you keep it trimmed all nice and neat. And… I’m going to guess that you have brown hair.”

“Well, I’ll be back in three days. There’s only one way for you to find out if you’re right.”

“I know. Still planning on the bagel shop at 9 am sharp, right? On Sunday?”

“Absolutely, doll. It’s a date.”

_______

The next day, you were able to pay your rent early, much to your landlord’s delight. After that, you decided that you would treat yourself to some actual groceries. Having a full shopping cart was a novelty to you; usually, you would load up with a basket containing ramen, maybe some chicken, some eggs, and whatever toiletries you needed. But today, you actually put together a meal plan and a list before going shopping.

Later on that day, you were grinning ear to ear as you put your purchases away in your tiny kitchen. There were green things in your fridge again! And they weren’t mold!

You were cooking a late breakfast for yourself when your phone rang, and you let out an excited squeak when you saw who it was.

“Steve!”

“Wow; someone sounds happy today.”

“I just got back from the grocery store,” you told him. “Thanks to a very wonderful, generous person, I was able to get food! Like, fancy food!”

“Fancy food, huh? What kind of fancy food?”

“Um… Well, I got stuff for salads! And I’m going to make a casserole for dinner. And I have some pasta, some beef, some taco stuff-“

“…Baby, that doesn’t really sound like fancy food. It sounds like regular groceries.”

“Well, it’s fancy compared to what I usually eat,” you pointed out.

“And what is that?”

“…Um…Ramen, mostly. Not that I mind! It’s better than nothing. I’ve got really creative with ramen recipes; it’s a skill I learned in college.”

Steve let out an exasperated sigh.

“That’s gonna have to change,” he asserted. “From now on, I’ll take you grocery shopping once a week, and I want you to get food with actual nutrients in it. Understood?”

You grinned as you flipped the omelet in the pan.

“Only if you let me cook for you sometime,” you bargained. You felt your cheeks heat up when he let out a groan.

“God, I can’t remember the last time I had a home-cooked meal,” he sighed. “I wish I could come back sooner.”

“You can make it for two more days,” you said. “I believe in you.”

“Well, I’m glad someone does.”

The two of you talked until your breakfast was ready, and for the rest of the day you worked on applying for jobs. You kept the news on your tv at a low volume, but later on, while you were cooking your casserole, you heard something about Moscow that made you perk up; Steve had mentioned that he was in Moscow on his business trip.

You hurried to pull the casserole out of the oven and place it on a cooling rack before jogging into the living room and turning up the volume.

“….in Moscow today. It is reported that the small terrorist organization was eliminated by Captain America, Natasha Romanoff, and a group of American agents with them. Luckily, the attempted bombing was stopped before there could be any casualties.”

You watched as the footage cut to Captain America standing in front of a group of reporters, decked out in his uniform with his signature shield strapped to his back. He shifted on his feet, looking out over the room before starting to speak.

“I’m relieved to inform you that the terrorist threat has been eliminated,” he began, and you frowned at how familiar his voice sounded. If you didn’t know any better, then you would think that it was Steve talking to you, your Steve, but you knew the idea was ridiculous. You smiled at the thought; you’d have to ask him later on if anybody else had noticed the similarity.

“The group was small and disorganized, and we believe that they acted independently of any larger organization,” he continued. “Our men and woman, however, are keeping a close eye on any and all other suspicious activity in this and the surrounding countries. For now, we advise you to rest easy, and-“

You muted the tv once more, heading into the kitchen to grab a plate of food. You sat down on your couch and pulled your phone out, dialing Steve’s number. You frowned when you reached his answering machine, but you left a message anyways.

“Hi, Steve! I just saw something on the news about a terrorist group in Moscow… I guess I just wanted to call and make sure you were okay. Just shoot me a text or give me a call when you’re able to. I’ll talk to you soon!”

After that, you ate your food, reveling in having something on your stomach other than the same old noodles. It was while you were wrapping your casserole to put in in the fridge that Steve called you back, and you rushed to answer the phone.

“Hello!”

“Hi, doll,” Steve sighed.

“You sound so tired.”

“Yeah… I guess I am. It was, uh… A rough day at work. But the good news is that I get to come home a day early. Think we could move our date to tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow? You can get here all the way from Moscow tonight?”

“Sure can. I’m on the plane right now.”

“Wow. Talk about company benefits…” Steve chuckled, and you smiled fondly as you closed the fridge. “I worried about you when I heard about the terrorists. Is everything ok? No one you knew got hurt, did they?”

“Nah, we’re fine, doll. But you’re sweet to ask.”

“Well, I saw Captain America talking on the news about it and just wanted to make sure. Hey, have you ever noticed that you sound a lot like him?”

“Uh… You think I sound like Captain America?” Steve seemed flustered, and you grinned as you walked back to your couch.

“Yeah; you guys have practically the same voice,” you grinned. “Crazy coincidence, right? You sound like him; you have the same first name… And did you know that he’s grown a beard since-“

“Hey, doll? The plane is experiencing some turbulence. Would it be ok if I let you go?”

“Oh. Yeah! Sure thing, Steve. But we’re still planning on tomorrow morning?”

“You betcha. I’ll see you at 9, and I’ll text you the address.”

“See you soon!”

With that, he hung up, and a few minutes later you received the text with the address. You sent him back a smiley face before getting ready for bed; you would need to get up early to get ready for your date.

It took you a while to fall asleep that night; your mind wouldn’t shut off. Over and over again, it would play possible scenarios of how meeting Steve might go – about what he would look like, what you two would talk about. Eventually, though, you were able to fall into a peaceful slumber, and even your dreams seemed happy that night.

______

You surveyed yourself in the mirror, looking for any imperfections that needed to be sorted out before you left. You’d somehow wrangled your hair into a nice-looking style, although you were pretty sure you’d killed half of the remaining ozone layer with how much hair spray you’d had to use to keep it that way. You were wearing a red set of leggings with an oversized, cream-colored sweater overtop it; despite the fact that the clothes were old, they still looked good, and you hated the fact that you didn’t have better shoes to complete the ensemble. You pulled on your black high-top Converse, deciding that they were the best looking pair of shoes you had, and you checked yourself out in the mirror one more time before walking out the door.

The bagel shop was only fifteen minutes away from where you lived, but the drive seemed to last for fifteen seconds and fifteen eternities all at once. You tried in vain to calm the frantic beating of your heart, but it was still pounding by the time you pulled up in front of the restaurant. You took a short moment to calm yourself, letting out a deep breath before getting out of your car.

You tried to walk with confidence as you walked into the bagel shop, inhaling the scent of baked bread, cinnamon, and coffee that lay heavy in the air. The walls inside were painted a bright, sky blue, and black-and-white sketches were hanging on the walls. The entire wall behind the display case had been turned into a chalkboard, and the various menu items were written across it in neat cursive font. One of your favorite songs from the 60’s was playing over the radio, and you smiled; you already knew that this place would become one of your regular hang outs.

At the moment, though, your eyes were scanning the shop for Steve. All you knew about him was that he had a beard; that is, if he hadn’t shaved it since taking his profile picture. There were only a few people dotted around the room, and most of them were with someone else. In fact, there were only two people there who were sitting alone. One of them was sitting at a nearby table, and he was a man who looked to be in his late 50’s; you hoped to God that he wasn’t Steve.

The only other person there was sitting at a table in the far corner, and he had his back to you. His hair was blonde and slicked back neatly, and his shoulders were incredibly broad. Letting out a sigh, you started walking towards him, wringing your hands as you grew nearer.

“Steve?” you finally asked when you were close, and you saw him straighten up.

When he turned around to face you, though, your eyes grew wide and your lips parted in surprise. There had to be some mistake; this couldn’t be him.

“I… I’m sorry,” you stuttered. “I’m here to meet, um…”

Captain America, or rather, Steve gave you a soft, sheepish smile, and he stood up to face you.

“Hey, doll,” he sighed.

“…I can explain.”

[yesmooshoe]

hii! could you do #34 "please don't do this" from the angst/fluff list for ironhusbands? 💖

Whoops, this was supposed to be short but then I wrote 3000 words. WARNING - THERE’S SOME SMUT AT THE END.

Also, you can read it on ao3! Double also, feel free to send me a prompt if you want.

--

“Please don’t do this.” Rhodey said through gritted teeth as Tony inched closer and closer to him.

“Do what?” He asked nonchalantly as their shoulders touched.

Rhodey took a deep breath and took a step away from Tony while scanning the crowded Officer’s Mess, hoping that no one saw that. “Touch me.”

“I thought you liked it when I touched you.” Tony said, cocking his head and flashing a smile.

Rhodey could feel his blood pressure rise as he locked eyes with Tony.

He hated this.

He hadn’t seen Tony in 13 months, 12 days, and 41 minutes...not that he was counting. Tony had begged him on multiple occasions to take some time off and come meet him somewhere, even just for a night, but Rhodey hadn’t wanted to risk it. Tony was famous. Someone would have noticed that he was in Frankfurt, someone would have noticed that Rhodey was off-base, someone would have snapped a photo of them buying lube. It was too risky, way too risky.

But this? This was way worse.

Yes, Stark Industries was the main manufacturer of planes for the US Air Force. And yes, there was a brand new cargo plane making its’ debut tomorrow. So in theory, Tony being at Ramstein made perfect sense. Plus, everyone knew that they were friends. But no one, other than maybe Pepper, knew the rest. If anyone found out that he was gay, his entire military career would be over.

“Fine, no touching. Can we at least eat lunch together? I promise I wont fellate you in between bites of powdered mashed potatoes.” Tony teased under his breath.

Of course he wanted to touch him, wanted to hold him, wanted to kiss him. But he also just wanted to talk to him. They were always careful while communicating, knowing that Rhodey’s email and phone conversations weren’t necessarily private. They never said I love you, but they’d found other ways to say and show that over the years. Tony always sent really elaborate and thoughtful care packages whenever Rhodey was overseas, and Rhodey always sent Tony weird souvenirs and postcards whenever he could. Rhodey always closed his letters by reminding Tony to water his plants, and Tony always ended his saying that he hadn’t forgotten. Rhodey didn’t even have any plants, but that was their little way of saying I love you with no one noticing.

“I have a meeting.” Rhodey lied, worried that spending too much time together would raise suspicion. “Just...just come over tonight, ok? After 7.”

Tony looked annoyed, but nodded. It was the same expression he had every time Rhodey signed up for another 4 years, or whenever he told him that he was being transferred or deployed again. They both hated this, but they loved each other and Rhodey loved his job. And Tony never once asked him to stop, so all they could do was hope that one day they’d get rid of that stupid law.

“Fine. See you tonight, Captain.” Tony said as he walked away, heading toward the group of SI employees at the opposite end of the room.

--

Rhodey’s heart was racing again as the clock struck 7, and a million different scenarios started running through his head. What if Tony had done something stupid like buy condoms at the PX? What if someone saw him coming up here? Even worse, what if someone noticed him leaving in the morning? They were friends though, best friends. Everyone knew that they were friends and knew that they’d been roommates for several years at MIT. There was nothing wrong with him coming over and spending the night, right? He’d just tell everyone that they had a few beers and then Tony passed out on the couch. It’d be fine, right?

Suddenly, a knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts. He jumped right up and smoothed his pants out, not wanting to look like a complete mess, and then quickly crossed to the front door of his apartment, which he pulled open to reveal Tony. In one hand he was holding a pizza, and in the other a 12-pack of beer and a shopping bag.

Rhodey smiled at him as he stepped aside and let him in. He stuck his head out in the hallway to see if anyone was around, and once he was confident that the coast was clear he closed the door. Before he knew what was happening, Tony grabbed him, slammed him against the door, and started kissing him. Rhodey gave in immediately, running his hands up Tony’s back and tangling them in his hair.

When they finally broke apart, both breathless, they just stood there for a moment with their foreheads resting against each other.

“Hi.” Tony panted out as his arms settled around Rhodey’s waist.

“Hi. Missed you.” Rhodey said before giving him another peck on the lips.

“Yeah, I’ve missed you too. This has been a long one.”

“Just a few more months ‘til I’m back at Edwards, I promise.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.” Tony said as he pulled away and walked over to the counter where he’d dropped everything.

Rhodey came up behind and wrapped his arms around him, just so happy to be able to hold him again. “Well, we’ve got tonight, ok? I can promise you that.” He said in between pressing soft kisses to Tony’s neck.

Tony turned around and smiled at him, knowing that it would have to do for now. “And it’s going to be a good night indeed, Captain Rhodes.”

“You really like saying that, huh?”

“It’s hot.”

“Mmhmm.” Rhodey chuckled as he nuzzled against him. It’d only been a few weeks since his promotion.

“Oh Captain, my Captain, our night is just beginning, and I promise you it’ll be a wild one.”

“Not too wild, these walls are very thin.”

“Not to worry.” Tony said as he slipped out of his grip and grabbed the plastic bag. “Fear not, for I have rented several movies with lots of explosions that’ll certainly drown out all of your incomprehensible babbling while my tongue is buried deep in your ass in about 15 minutes.”

Rhodey could feel his cheeks getting hot as he looked down at the floor, always getting a bit flustered when Tony said stuff like that to him. “Did anyone see you at the video store? Does anyone know you’re here?”

Tony sighed as he played around with the VCR, which answered Rhodey’s question for him.

“Christ, Tony, who?” Rhodey asked, suddenly feeling anxious again.

“Calm down, ok? Look...Colonel Moore and Major Kirkland wanted to take me out to dinner, but I told them that I was coming over here to get you drunk and maybe beat your ass in Mario Kart a few times.”

“Moore and Kirkland? Tony, I work with them every day you can’t just go around telling everyone - “ Before Rhodey could finish his rant, Tony shut him up with another kiss.

“It’s fine. I promise you it’s fine. No one cares that I’m here, no one is suspicious, ok?” He said softly in between kisses. “I got pizza and shitty beer and even shittier action movies and as far as anyone knows we’re over here like a couple of perfectly normal straight dudes talking about tits and cheering when things explode, ok?”

Rhodey took a deep breath and nodded. That was certainly easy for Tony to say - it wasn’t his career and everything he’d worked for on the line - but he trusted him. “Well hey, I bet you’ll be cheering later when I explode in your ass, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.”

Tony laughed and shook his head while playfully shoving Rhodey towards the bedroom. “That’s the spirit. Now go on, I want you completely naked by the time I’m done putting on this movie to appease your neighbors.”

Rhodey just smiled at him and pulled his shirt off as he rushed into his room. By the time he flopped onto his bed he was completely naked, though he hadn’t been wearing much to begin with. Still, it had to be a record.

He propped himself up on his elbows while laying on his back, and a huge smile spread across his face when Tony finally joined him. They took a moment to just look at each other, and even though the sound of rapid gun fire from whatever movie Tony had put on kept it from being super romantic, much like everything else, it’d do for now.

Tony’s hair was a bit longer than the last time he’d seen him, and it seemed like the goatee was here to stay. He hadn’t been sure about the facial hair at first, missing the baby-faced boy he’d fallen in love with back at school, but it really suited him. “Your hair’s wet, was it raining?” He asked, breaking the silence.

“No, I took a shower. I’m not an animal.” Tony answered while pulling his shirt off and climbing onto the bed and onto Rhodey. He leaned down and kissed him again, though this time it was more soft and more loving.

They spent a while just kissing and letting their hands get reacquainted with each other. Rhodey’s cock was hard now, and pressed up against the annoyingly still-clothed Tony. He wanted more, but he also didn’t want to stop whatever this was. He’d been so starved for attention like this for so long, so he did his best to just enjoy the gentle caresses and the way Tony’s tongue seemed to be exploring every single inch of his mouth, even though he desperately wanted Tony buried inside of him.

Eventually Tony sat up, and Rhodey just smiled as he noticed how red and puffy his lips were from all of the action so far.

“Have you...been with anyone? Since...since last time?” Tony asked quietly while slowly circling around Rhodey’s nipples with his thumbs. They had a sort of open thing, but neither really cashed in on it too much.

“No. Have you?”

“No.”

Rhodey smiled. “I love you, Tony.”

“I love you too. Roll over.” Tony instructed as he shifted to the edge of the bed.

“Yes sir.” Rhodey said as Tony pulled off his pants and boxers, finally releasing his cock.

“Mm, I like when you call me sir.” Tony said as he straddled Rhodey again. “God your ass is amazing. I feel like people don’t tell you that enough, but it really is perfect.”

Rhodey smiled at the compliment, but he was also focused on the gunfire and motorcycles coming from the TV in the next room. For a moment he worried that maybe it was too loud and that the neighbors would complain. That’s all he needed, having to run to the door mid-sex while trying to pull his sweatpants on. He considered stopping to turn it down, but all of the thoughts left his head as he felt Tony spread his ass cheeks apart and slowly run his tongue up his crack.

“Oh fuck.” Rhodey moaned while tightening his grip on the blankets he was clutching. Luckily his bed was against an exterior wall, so he wasn’t worried about being too loud in here. As Tony continued to explore, slowly circling his tongue around the rim and prodding at the hole, Rhodey became painfully aware of how desperate his cock was for attention. It was pinned between his stomach and the bed and he tried to move a bit, but it was impossible with how Tony was holding him down. “Tony please…” He cried out quietly.

“Please what?” Tony asked smugly as he pulled away. He slowly crawled up on top of Rhodey and started grinding his cock against Rhodey’s eager ass. “Come on, what do you want, Sourpatch?”

“I want you.”

“Want me to what?”

“I want you to fuck me. I need you to fuck me.” Rhodey moaned again before Tony pressed a kiss to his cheek.

“Good boy.” He said as he sat up. “Lube?”

“Night stand. Bottom drawer.” Rhodey replied breathlessly, still not quite believing that they were together again.

“Do you want me to use a condom?” He asked as he found all of the supplies.

“No, I trust you.”

“Okay. I trust you too. Ooh, Astroglide! How retro.” Tony almost giggled as he climbed back onto the bed.

Rhodey rolled onto his back and wrapped a hand around his cock, stroking himself slowly as Tony got settled again.

“Hey hey, none of that. I don’t want you cumming before I even get inside of you.” Tony teased as he opened up the bottle and squirted some of the clear liquid in his hand. “You want it like this?”

Rhodey nodded as he let go of his cock. “Yeah. I want to see you.”

Tony just smiled before leaning down to give him a kiss. “Good.”

Rhodey took a deep breath while Tony grabbed a pillow and put it under his back for easier access, and Rhodey just let his legs fall open for him. They locked eyes as Tony’s slick hand found Rhodey’s hole, and stayed that way as Tony worked a finger in and out of him. They kissed more as Tony fingered him slowly, and the sensation of their cocks trapped together between their stomachs was more than enough to make Rhodey start dribbling pre-cum.

“Someone’s excited.” Tony whispered between kisses.

“Just fuck me, please.”

“Aye aye, Captain.” Tony said with a little salute as he sat up and pulled his fingers out of Rhodey’s ass.

Rhodey watched as he grabbed the lube again and slicked himself up, and he braced himself for what was coming next. He sucked in a sharp breath as Tony lined himself up and pushed into his ass slowly, doing his best to relax and take it.

“Fuck!” Rhodey cried out as he arched his back, easily taking Tony’s cock deep inside of him.

“Shh shh.” Tony said as he bottomed out. “Don’t want the Joint Chiefs to hear you. You ok?”

“Yes Tony, this isn’t my first Rodeo. Just shut up and move.”

Tony laughed again as he guided Rhodey legs up to rest on his shoulders. Slowly, he started to move, thrusting in and out of and finding a good rhythm. Rhodey was letting out little gasps with each thrust at first, and as soon as Tony started to pick up the pace he wrapped his hand around his cock and started stroking in rhythm with the thrusts. He forced himself to open his eyes, and he smiled at the determined look on Tony’s face as he loomed over the top of him.

“God Tony, I’m so close. Faster.” He moaned again, gripping at the bad with his free hand. This was all happening a bit faster than Rhodey had hoped, but it had been a while and he was certain he’d last longer on the next round.

Tony started snapping his hips faster, losing his composure as he got closer and closer to the edge. “Fuck, I’ve missed this.” He managed to say before grabbing Rhodey’s hips and slamming him back down on his cock as they both chased release.

They fell silent for a while, but the room was filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and a huge series of explosions from the living room.

It was Rhodey who came first, spraying his stomach with an explosion of creamy, white liquid as Tony continued to ride him harder and faster. It was becoming too much for Rhodey, overwhelmed by his own own orgasm. “Fuck, come on Tony. Give me everything.” He chanted through gritted teeth, which seemed to be just enough to push him over.

Tony came with an indistinguishable string of syllables, which he quickly muffled as he continued to thrust, filling Rhodey with everything that he had. They were both panting as Tony finished up and let his cock slip out of him, but despite how out of it Rhodey felt, Tony seemed to have a bit more in mind for this first session.

As Tony caught his breath he leaned down and ran his tongue over Rhodey’s toned stomach, lapping up the streams of cum that were splattered all over him. Rhodey just relaxed as Tony cleaned him up, tugging on his shaggy brown hair as he did. When Tony was done he crawled up and gave Rhodey a kiss, allowing him to taste some of the salty substance that remained on his lips.

“Do you want pizza?” Tony asked after a few moments of silence, which just made both of them laugh.

“You’re ridiculous.” Rhodey said as he playfully shoved Tony off of him.

“What? I’m hungry. And we gotta keep up our stamina. We’ve got 12 hours to make up for 12 months.” Tony teased as he sat up and ran his hands through his hair.

“You need a haircut.”

“Yeah well, I wanted to give you something nice and long to grab onto later when we get really dirty.” Tony said as he stood up.

Rhodey just shook his head. “Fine. But I’m taking you to a barber before you leave. Also, it’s not been 12 months.”

“Hm?”

“It’s not been 12 months. It’s been 13 months, 12 days, 7 hours, and 38 minutes.” He said as another explosion rang out in the living room.

“Oh, and I’m the ridiculous one? Come on, pizza.”

“Tony?” Rhodey called out as he started to leave. He wanted to promise him that they wouldn't go 13 months without seeing each other again. He wanted to promise that he’d be back in California soon. He wanted to promise that he wouldn’t re-up again when the time came.

But he couldn’t, he just couldn’t. He shook his head, vowing to do his best to not dwell on any of that right now. They had tonight, and that was what was important.

Tony was just staring at him, confused by the silence. “Yes?”

“Nothing.  I’m just - I’m sorry.”

Tony walked back over to the bed and held out his hand. “Don’t be, I knew what I was signing up for, ok? Come on, pizza time. And if you’re lucky I’ll let you fuck me next round.” He said as he pulled him up and led him into the kitchen.

“Tell you what. Mario Kart. Loser has to bottom, all right?” Rhodey suggested with a huge smile on his face.

Tony just smiled. “Fine, but I hope you’re ready for me to ride your ass all night, Captain.” He said as he grabbed the box of pizza and headed for the living room.

Again, none of this was ideal. But right now, in this stupid apartment with thin walls in the middle of Germany, everything was perfect.

[sophisticated-creepy]

Lola’s mind was swarming. Although one thought seamlessly bled into the next, there was a supreme lack of a single thread with which to follow, and completely lost in the void of her own mind, she hadn’t noticed she’d walked passed her destination, realizing halfway down the next block she had to double back to reach Curios and Oddities. She was stepping up to the main entrance as Modesta was walking out, holding the door open wide for a customer who had finished purchasing an order of candles and dreamcatchers, the lady’s arms draped in large shopping bags.

“Thanks again, and have a pleasant day,” Modesta told the satisfied shopper. “Lola! I thought I saw you walking by.”

“Hi, Modesta,” Lola chirped, perhaps a tad too sharply to even her own ears. “How was inventory?”

“Fine,” Modesta answered, her eyebrows knitting together in question. Lola’s energy was sporadic and fluctuating, sending out an unsettling vibe despite standing perfectly still in the middle of the sidewalk. Maybe that was the issue: Lola was merely standing. Lola didn’t “stand”, she fluttered, like an overly caffeinated butterfly. If Modesta did find her friend by chance to be in a state of rest, some other part of her was usually moving, whether it were her arms gesturing about grandly during some ostentatious storytelling, or her eyes dancing to absorb the scenery around her. Lola was like the wind, and rarely remained stagnant, so when she noticed the eerie calm in the way Lola remained motionless, staring at nothing, she was immediately on edge and completely creeped out.

“Look, I know Halloween is right around the corner, but you are really starting to freak me out, Lola. Do you need help or something?”

“Sorry,” Lola spoke. She then blinked, her shoulders slouching downwards naturally, shifting back into a more fluid realm of movement and mannerisms. “Sorry,” she repeated. “Yes, actually, I was wondering if you could help me. Are you busy, or can we talk for a moment?”

“I’m not too terribly busy, come on in. What’s on your mind? You were a total zombie on the sidewalk just now.” Lola was ushered into the warmth of the shop, the scent of vanilla and cookies instantly had her relaxing, feeling once more at peace and in control of her rampant thoughts and imagination.

“I’m processing a lot of information,” Lola began as she stepped into the sacred space. “Actually, I’m trying to get some research done on a new story for a writing contest I’m entering.”

Modesta gave a light laugh. “Oh! Another story, huh? That explains your zone-out. What’s your theme this time?”

“The Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“Of course it is,” Modesta laughed harder. “Why did I even bother to ask?”

“Anyway…,” Lola transitioned, giving her friend a look that clearly meant she herself was not amused. “I have a deadline in little over a week, so I need to get as much research done as possible before I can do any actual writing.”

“Do you really need to do research? I thought you knew all there was to your loveable Hobblin’ Goblin.”

“It’s rather quite shocking on how much I don’t know, except for the everyday basics: he’s a goblin, he hobbles, walks with a crutch, and plays pranks. I don’t know the real, tangible origins, so I’m looking for the deeper meaning. I’m looking for his story.”

“I’ve never thought about it from that angle before,” Modesta admitted. “It’s a unique way to portray the legend, that’s for sure.”

Aggrievedly, Lola leaned her hip against a tall table stacked with candles and heaved a sigh. “I want to get some personal testimonies of people experiencing a real run-in with Mr. Goblin as part of my research to get a truer feel of his hauntings, but I’m coming to realize it’s going to be near impossible to sort the differences between a Hobblin’ haunt and a regular haunt.”

“I can help with that!” Jack sprung up from behind the furniture piece Lola and Modesta were talking next to, his boisterous appearance scaring the living daylights out of the two women, having the whole shop of customers stare in their direction as they each let out a scream of fright.

“Jack!” Modesta scolded after catching her breath. “Have you been waiting behind that table this whole time to scare us?”

Laughing, Jack nodded. “I was. But, do you at least get my point?”

“What are you talking about?” Lola asked, still trying to get her racing heartbeat under control.

“I heard you talking about the Hobblin’ Goblin. He pulls pranks, just like me, and like any other prankster, his jokes are mainly for his enjoyment,” Jack informed. “You can’t rely on the typical moans and groans and rattling of chains. You need to look for the fun.”

Lola snapped her fingers in confirmation. “That’s exactly what I said to Stacy. I’m looking for what makes the Hobblin’ Goblin so special, and I believe it lies in the fun. Do you mind if I record you saying that, Jack? From one trickster to another, I’m sure you’ve got some great insight I could borrow.” Eager to get a new perspective on her favorite goblin, Lola began digging around in her purse to renew her quest of investigation.

“Did you hear that, Mo? I get to be recorded,” Jack smugly stated, plastering on a cheesy smile a charlatan of yore would envy.

“I don’t think the world is ready for your mug,” Modesta sarcastically shot back. Lola emerged from her handbag, holding her tape recorder towards Jack’s face, his smile swapping out for a confused pout as he stared down the microphone of the handheld device.

“Tell me again about the motivation of tricksters, Jack,” Lola sweetly requested.

“Yes, Jack,” Modesta agreed, stifling her laughter to the best of her ability. “Tell the audio world all about it.”

“Uh, Lola, when you said ‘record’, I assumed---.” Jack trailed off, not wanting to hurt the wannabe reporter’s feelings, as Lola’s innocent expression at recording him with her archaic equipment weighed heavily against his conscience.

“Oh, shit, hold on,” Lola cursed. “I need to take notes.” Lola’s quick movements to try and free up her hands in order to get a pen and her notebook caused her to jumble and jostle the items in her arm, and she dropped her notepad along with the newspaper straight to the floor in a flurry of commotion. Modesta bent down to help Lola retrieve her items. When her fingertips brushed the newspaper, she hissed, jolted by the sharp sensation, and yanked her arm back, the feeling as if she had touched the coils of a stovetop scorching into her fingers. Looking at the periodical, her eyes fell on the front page, the grainy image of the train yard staring back at her, and Modesta could have sworn she had been punched in the gut.

“Oh, no. Nope. Not okay, and not today. Nada, nope, not happening,” she stammered furiously, and shoved the paper away from her. “I don’t know why you brought that newspaper into my store, but you need to take it outside now.”

Lola reclaimed the newspaper, slowly picking it up off the floor. “Well, that helps answer some of my questions,” she softly stated.

“Everything all right?” asked Jack.

“I was hoping Modesta would take a look at this picture in the newspaper. Even I got a weird vibe from it, and I wanted to get her opinion on the photo, too.” Lola gave the paper to Jack so he could take a look at the cause of excitement.

“Is this the train yard where that attack was made?” he asked, and Lola nodded.

“What attack?” Modesta asked, unconsciously staggering away from Jack as he held the paper out, studying the photo intensely. The residual tingle of being burned lingered on her fingertips, and her hackles were prickling in warry foreboding.

“I heard about it on the radio last night. A security guard was attacked by a demon,” Jack informed, dropping his voice at the end to whisper so as not to alarm nearby customers.

“A demon?” Modesta repeated, crossing her arms and raising a skeptical eyebrow. “Really? Someone approved that statement to be broadcasted all over local radio?”

“Hey, there’s no mention of the demon in the paper,” Jack stated, turning the pages to try and find the rest of the story.

“Why would there be? The article said it was the work of some kids’ prank gone wrong,” Lola interjected.

“What I heard,” Jack began, “was that the security guard was attacked by a hunched over shadow creature he saw lurking just outside the trees of the forest.”

“How would the radio station know that? The newspaper said the guard has a concussion and a fractured skull. He couldn’t make a statement. His partner found him after he fell,” Lola surmised.

“The dates are wrong, too,” Jack continued, his gaze sharp on the paper. “I heard about the attack happening two nights ago, not last night.”

“Maybe the radio got it wrong,” Lola theorized. “Or, maybe the paper has a misprint. Wait!” Jack’s words began to poke at Lola’s mind, helping to fit pieces of the puzzle together from her earlier haphazard thoughts. “Did you say something about a hunched over shadow creature? Here, let me see that again.” Lola reached for the newspaper and turned to the front page, squinting hard once more at the blurry image. “I can’t tell for sure,” she said at last.

“What are you looking for?” Modesta asked, still standing on the outskirts of her friends thanks to the uneasy item of interest.

“I think the photographer caught an image in the forest, but I can’t make it out. I’ll understand if you don’t want to, but could you please take a look for me, Mo? I get the feeling something’s there, but I need you to validate it or not.”

“Oh, there’s something in that photo, all right,” Modesta confirmed, not even having to look at the image, refusing to touch the newspaper.

“Let me take a look in a better light,” Jack requested, and leading the others to the main checkout counter, spread the pages out on the glass surface. Leaning over the image, he peered closely at the tree line. “I think I can make out a shape. Here, right?” Jack pointed to the same shape that first caught Lola’s attention. "It looks cut off, but that might really be a picture of some kind of figure.”

“Oh, my gracious!” Lola gasped. “What if this is proof of the Hobblin’ Goblin?” she asked in a burst of delight. “Isn’t he rumored to have lived in the forest? What if, what if,” she stressed, “this is him?” Her heartrate had picked back up several faster beats per minute, and the pleasant prickle of goosebumps began crawling up her arms, her earlier disposition melting to give way to the wash of excitement lighting her features. “We’ve got to check this place out!”

“No, Lola,” Modesta cut in harshly. “Absolutely not.” Lola turned to her sour friend, the brusque declaration confusing, and her expression must have read as much, for Modesta pointedly tapped a firm finger on the counter where they all hovered above the newspaper. “This is not safe,” the consternated brunette stated evenly.

“I don’t understand,” Lola spoke. “Why are you so spooked?”

“You wanted my opinion? This is it: stay away.”

“What exactly are you picking up on?” Jack questioned.

“I’m all for Lola doing her research on the legend of the Hobblin’ Goblin,” Modesta began to elaborate. “Since you’re looking for the ‘fun’, I suggest you stick to that route. This,” she indicated, waving her hand over the newspaper, “is not him.”

Lola’s excitement quelled as she stared down at the shape in the photo, her bottom lip trapped between her teeth in contemplation as she considered Modesta’s words compared to her impulse to investigate. This article was a tangible lead, a jumping point for her story to breathe life and take flight. She trusted her friend’s opinion, but nothing short of her own prodding could satiate Lola’s curiosity once it had been roused.

“I trust your judgment,” Lola began carefully, “but maybe we should check things out for ourselves. Come out to the train yard with me tonight.”

“Even if I wanted to, I can’t. I’m leading that workshop tonight and Jack is helping run the store, so don’t even bother asking him,” Modesta replied.

“Sorry,” Jack apologized, shrugging his shoulders in pre-obligated surrender.

“Besides, you’d be trespassing. You don’t have the authority to go traipsing around on private property after hours anyway,” Modesta reminded. If it were anymore possible, Lola’s exuberance and spirits deflated with the realization that she wasn’t, in fact, allowed to do her investigating after hours. A rebellious side of her stayed hopeful, however, and the back of her mind was already formulating plans to get the research she so desperately sought.

“Lola,” Modesta drawled in warning, seeing the gleam of trouble brewing behind her friend’s eyes. “Give me your word you’re not going to go after this figure. Leave it alone.”

Lola rolled her eyes, but still held a smile, always appreciative of Modesta’s caring and cautious nature. “I give you my word I won’t go seeking this figure,” she promised.

“Thank you. Now, if you don’t mind, I have customers to tend.” With that, Modesta flicked her eyes upon the newspaper one final time before turning away. A moment passed before Jack cleared his throat.

“You’re going to go after this figure, aren’t you?”

“Now, Jack, I gave my word, you heard me promise,” Lola reiterated.

“Just…please take Raph with you. I know you are more than capable of handling things on your own, but…if there really is something demonic out there, it’s best if you don’t face it alone.” He gave his friend a comforting squeeze on her shoulder before going to help Modesta with the store. Lola remained silent, thankful of her friends’ concerns, however, the desire to figure out this growing mystery of ghosts and goblins staring back at her from a newspaper headline had her solidifying in her mind what she needed to do in order to properly tell a story.

~~~~~~~~~~

Oh, that Lola. Always getting into trouble.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 13: Paper And Ink]

A/N: Can I just take a second to say how happy I am to see all of your reactions to my little fic?! I have never been a super popular writer on Tumblr but I like to think that I have some of the cleverest, kindest, most thoughtful readers around. Your support for and emotional investment in my stories makes me so, so, so happy. Please enjoy this latest chapter...it’s the longest one yet! 💜

Also, MAJOR shout out to @writerxinthedark​ and her constant insanely astute observations!! Girl, I’m shook. Do you have ESP or what...? 👀

Chapter summary: Roger tries to reach a compromise, John tries to offer solace, Chrissie tries out some retro science, Y/N tries to process some alarming new information.

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language! Discussion of substance abuse! Babies! Drama! Angst!!!

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! :)

“You can’t leave,” John pleads. One of his hands—strong, nimble, a gold band on his wedding finger—is clutching the wooden bedpost. Chrissie paces back and forth beside him, gnawing her thumbnail until it bleeds, silent tears streaking down her ruddy cheeks.

You throw your open suitcase onto the bed and start yanking things out of drawers: panties and bras—the practical ones, not the sexy ones, I won’t be needing those in the immediate future—jeans, velvet dresses, sweaters, socks, mittens, scarves. It’ll be cold in Boston. “I’m going home.”

“Love, please...” Chrissie sobs.

“I’m not staying here.” Your voice is surprisingly steady, resolved even. “I’m not going to stay in this house with him. I’m not going to follow him around the world watching him fuck other women and humiliate me in tabloids. I’m done, I’m going home.”

“You have a contract with the record company, you’re the tour nurse!” Chrissie protests. “Jesus christ, they could sue you for non-performance! When does the band leave, a week from now?!”

“Six days,” John says softly.

“Six days!” Chrissie shouts at you.

“I’m not going. They can sue me, that’s fine.” I don’t have any money anyway. None that’s actually mine.

“You can’t leave,” John says again. His greyish eyes are wide and restless, desperate; you didn’t know it was possible for him to be this agitated. He’s not Queen’s unflappable bassist today.

“Yeah? Observe.” You pick the pink conch shell up off the dresser—the one John found for you on the beach in Ostia, during a tour that feels like a lifetime ago—and tuck it gently into a corner of your suitcase where it will be cushioned by knit sweaters. “John, I have a bunch of your sketches downstairs. There’re some on the refrigerator, some framed in the living room, a couple on the dining room walls...will you go get those for me, please? I can’t leave without them.”

John just stares at you, blinking and thunderstruck.

Next to the empty space on the dresser where the conch shell once lived is the Canon F-1. You consider the camera for a moment, then snatch it up and move to hurl it out of the second-story window.

John jolts out of his paralysis. “No no no no, I think you’ll regret that.” He gently pries the Canon out of your grasp and places it back on the dresser.

“What the hell are you going to do in Boston?!” Chrissie wails. “All your friends are here now! Your life is here!”

“I’m going to get a job at the hospital and marry some boring, predictable man and get a house with a white picket fence and fill it with two exceptionally average children”—if I can have them, and that’s a big if as it turns out—“and a golden retriever and live out the rest of my days in blissful, prosaic anonymity. Thanks for asking.”

“Oh come on, you don’t want that!” Chrissie snaps. “You’ve never wanted that, that’s why you came to London with the band to begin with!”

“I don’t want to feel like this!” you scream, and all those tears you didn’t know you were biting back start spilling out in hot, torrential streams. Your breath hitches; your throat burns. Like wildfire. John pulls you to his chest, murmurs that everything will be okay, cradles the back of your head with his palm. You know he’s exchanging a glance with Chrissie over your shoulder. That’s why she brought him here, after all; to help talk you off the ledge, to help convince you to stay.

“What a fucking mess,” Chrissie says in despair.

“It’s my fault,” you choke out.

“It’s not,” John whispers.

“It is,” you insist bitterly, sobbing into him. “Everyone warned me and I ignored it because I’m a complete idiot and now I’ve gone and ruined my life.”

“You don’t have to go!” Chrissie implores. “You can stay here. With us, with me and John and Mary and Freddie and Brian. You have British citizenship, you can get a job at a hospital in London if you really want to leave the band. You can stay with me and Bri for as long as you need to until you’re back on your feet, or with Freddie...they’d give you any amount of money you needed to get started...they’d be heartbroken if you left, love, you’ve been there for them through everything, since Queen was just a bunch of nobodies, since we were all flat broke...they’re never going to forget that loyalty you showed them, that faith. They’d do anything to repay you.”

You sigh shakily as you untangle yourself from John and wipe your eyes. “If I stay here, I’ll spend the rest of my life dodging Roger at birthday parties and holidays and restaurants. And being known as the wife he fucked around on. I’ll be a pitiful mess of a person. They had a photo of me in the News Of The World, did you know that? A tiny little circular photo under a huge, glamorous one of Dominique. ‘Look everyone, check out the dashing rock star’s sad, pathetic, unremarkable, soon-to-be-ex-wife. Surely you can appreciate why he’d shop around.’”

“Yes, I saw that part,” Chrissie says softly. She understands some of what you’re feeling, surely, and yet she must also have a sensation of gratefulness; plenty of musicians wander like tornadoes, touching down and sowing chaos wherever their compulsions take them, but few wives have the misfortune of seeing their names and faces paraded through the tabloids. Suddenly, Chrissie isn’t the most-wronged wife in Queen anymore.

You bury your face in your hands. “Oh god. My parents might even hear about this. They could be buying wine and Cheetos at the grocery store and see my husband and his girlfriend on the cover of a magazine in the checkout line.”

“I’m so sorry,” Chrissie replies, her voice hoarse. John crosses his arms over his chest and says nothing; but he kicks the wooden bedframe hard enough to send a crack down the center of the footboard.

Downstairs, you hear the front door open. Chrissie and John whirl to you, panicked.

“Hey, love of my life!” Roger’s chipper voice vaults up the staircase. Someone hasn’t checked the headlines yet. “Baby? You home?”

“Do you want me to stay?” John asks you.

“No, I can handle it.”

“Are you sure? Because I’ll stay for as long as you want me to. I’ll hide in the goddamn bushes outside the window if that would be helpful.”

“No, John.” You smile and climb onto your toes to wrap your arms around the back of his neck, to hug him goodbye. He’s warm and comfortable and sheltering. He feels more like home than this house ever has, isn’t that strange? And for a second, just one, you wonder what your life would look like if there had been no Veronica, no Roger.

You’d still be in Boston, you idiot, you chastise yourself. You never would have come to London with Queen if it wasn’t for Roger. And You’re My Best Friend wasn’t about you.

“Thank you,” you tell John. “But I have to do this part myself.”

“Okay. Don’t you dare go cart yourself off to Heathrow without telling me first, alright?”

“Sure,” you say, not meaning it. I can’t let him stop me.

“Good luck,” Chrissie frets, wringing her hands, twirling her wedding ring. “Call me, okay? I’m going to be a nervous wreck until I hear from you. I’ll chew my poor fingers to the bone.”

“I’ll call. I promise.”

“Hey baby!” Roger materializes in the bedroom doorway, pushes his prescription sunglasses up into his windswept blond hair, peers around the room at you and John and Chrissie. And you’re suddenly reminded of how a room changes when Roger walks into it, how everything shifts somehow, becomes brighter, more alive, brimming with magnificent potential; how cavernously empty the world would feel without him in it. Chrissie glares at him with her arms crossed, nostrils flaring, tapping one fashionable riding boot against the hardwood floor. “Uhhhh...am I interrupting something?”

“Bye, love.” Chrissie kisses you quickly on each cheek and breezes out of the room. You hear her boots clopping as she descends down the staircase. After a moment, John follows her.

“You despicable prick,” John hisses as he passes Roger in the doorway.

Roger is mystified. “Baby, what’s going on?” His eyes flick to the hastily packed suitcase, to the cracked footboard. “What the fuck happened to the bed?”

There are so many ways to ask the same question. When did you decide that you needed to have her? Who is she to you? How could you do this to me? What did she give you that I couldn’t? Instead, what you ask him this: “Have you seen the News Of The World today?”

His brow furrows into deep grooves. “No...” But something primal flashes in his vivid blue eyes, just briefly. Something like fear. He knows he’s done things that would hurt me. And I don’t think I’ll ever be able to unearth them all.

You grab the magazine off the bed and hurl it at him. Roger picks it up off the floor and flips to the front page. His shoulders slump, one hand comes up to cover his mouth, he exhales in a deep sigh; his whole body shifts the same way a room does when he walks out of it: dims, deflates, goes bloodless. He calmly lays the News Of The World on the dresser, folds his sunglasses and sets them down as well, rubs his eyes with the heels of his calloused hands. Then he turns to you.

He’s going to deny it, you think, revolted. He’s going to deny it just like Brian did, try to patch things up in some weak and gutless way, placate me so he can drift off to sleep at night imagining he’s a good husband.  

But Roger isn’t Brian. He never has been.

He asks you quietly, in surrender: “What do you want to know?”

Your stomach plunges into freefall, because this is real. Maybe there was some part of me that was hoping this was a mistake, some naïve and hopeful sliver of idealism left over from childhood, from a time when everything in the world was either good or evil and nothing lived in the treacherous shadows in between. “How long?”

“Does it matter?”

“Yes, Roger, it matters.”

“Not long.” He waves a hand glibly. “She...ah...well she thought I was pretty maddening at first. It took her a while to come around to the idea.”

You flinch like you’ve been slapped. “Jesus christ, Roger. Thank you, that’s great, thank you for that information.”

“I’m not trying to hurt you,” he protests, exasperated. “I’m really not, I don’t...I just don’t...bloody hell, I don’t know how to do this.”

“To do what? To fuck around?! Obviously that’s inaccurate—”

“No, to confess!” he shouts. “I never confess, I never admit it, I just avoid or deflect or deny it, and when that doesn’t work anymore I just walk out because usually I don’t care enough to have the conversation. But now I do so I’m really, really trying to give you what you want. I thought you wanted answers. So ask me whatever you want to and I’ll tell you the truth.”

Everyone lies. Everyone disappoints you. I knew that, I really did...but somehow I let him convince me that I didn’t. That he was built of nothing but light. “Do you love her?”

“No,” he replies instantly. “It’s a fling, that’s all.”

“So you didn’t corner her somewhere and tell her that you’re planning on breaking up with me.”

Roger winces. I wasn’t going to end up like Josephine, that was the first promise I made to myself on British soil. And look where I am now. “No. Never.”

“Why, Roger?”

He looks away, runs his hands through his hair; he genuinely doesn’t know how to answer.

You stare at him in disbelief. “Are you even sorry...?”

He speaks carefully, purposefully. “I’m sorry you had to find out, that you were hurt by it. And I’m really fucking sorry about that headline. Discretion is extremely important to me. I never would have let that happen, but you know...” He shrugs, smirking guiltily in that disarmingly bewitching way that he does. Stop, you warn yourself, feeling something in you grasping for reasons to stay. “I haven’t been thinking especially clearly lately.”

“Yes, between the coke and the drinking and the pills you’re quite the disaster, aren’t you?” Scalding tears slither down your face. “So you’re not sorry you did it. You’re not sorry that you’re an addict or a cheater.”

“It’s not about that. It’s...” He searches for the words like premonitions in tea leaves. “Yes, there are drugs and parties and women. There are a lot of those things. But I’m not addicted to any of them. I’m addicted to being Roger Taylor, drummer of one of the best bands in the world. It’s everything I am, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted to be. I never want to live in a world where that’s not who I am anymore. You understand that, what it’s like to feel caged and miserable, you know what it’s like to want to experience things. And so if it takes coke and pills to get up on that stage every night and drum under those blinding lights until it feels like my arm is split open again, okay, no problem, I’ll do it. If women are a part of the lifestyle, a part of being free, then I’ll take advantage of that. And why the fuck does it matter? Why do so many people think that fidelity is the ultimate manifestation of love? Plenty of faithful people hate each other. Plenty of people who screw around are irretrievably in love with one person, are fucking owned by them. I love you. I want to come home to you. I want to raise my children with you if that’s a possibility, and if it’s not then fine, whatever, I’m gonna love you all the same. You’re still on my list, Boston babe. You’re always going to be on my list. Why isn’t that enough?”

“John doesn’t cheat,” you object helplessly. Even if he has all the reasons in the world to.

“No, he doesn’t. But he’s a very different kind of man. A better one, probably. But you’ve always known who I was. And I never promised you an ordinary life.”

You shake your head, hide your face in your hands, can’t force the words to leave your trembling lips. It’s not enough for me. Maybe I thought it could be, but it’s just not.

Roger says, gently: “I know we said the marriage didn’t mean anything”—yes, that was your condition, wasn’t it?—“but that’s not completely true. It’s not just paper and ink. It does mean something. It means that you’re the person I want to take care of, the person I can rely on to provide for my family and friends if something ever happened to me. It means that I love and trust you in a way that is unconditional. That you’re my best friend.”

“I don’t want to live like this, Roger,” you whisper.

“So what’s next?” he demands. “So you’re going to take that suitcase and run back to the States and...what, get a job at the same hospital you were so desperate to escape from? Back out of the tour? Abandon the band and the friends you have here?”

“If that’s what it takes to get away from you.”

For the first time, you hurt him; you really hurt him. You see it ripple across his face like cold, swirling ocean waves. “Please don’t leave.”

“I’ve already decided, Roger.”

“Come on, baby, please, we can work this out—”

“I’m not interested.” You zip the suitcase closed, heave it off the bed, and drag it towards the door.

“So even if we can’t work it out,” Roger erupts, bolting to the doorway, to stand between you and whatever a life after him looks like. “Don’t leave the band. Leave me, just me, but not the band. I know you don’t want to leave them. I know they’ll be devastated if you disappear, not to mention they might legitimately murder me over it. Bri can be a twat, sure, but he’s convinced you saved his life. You and I might be the only people on the whole fucking planet who can see how brilliant John is, who understand him. Freddie’s convinced you’re some kind of good luck charm, you know how superstitious he is, he’ll start having those meltdowns again where he insists he can’t sing five minutes before a show and that the band is doomed, the tour will be a complete disaster. We need you. And I want you to keep the job you love, the travel, the mansion, the money, I want you to have all of it. You’ve earned it. You shouldn’t lose it because of me.”

And as you clutch the handle of your suitcase, your mind dashing from one logistical step to the next—grab my passport and some cash out of the safe, collect all of John’s sketches, call a cab to take me to Heathrow—you start remembering things. But you don’t see them like flashes, like misty reveries, no; you feel them like heat from a roaring fireplace, like Mediterranean pebbles digging into the wrinkled soles of your feet, like the deafening screams of crowds filling the Rainbow Theater, the Hammersmith Odeon, the Apollo, the Budokan, Madison Square Garden. Memories of excavating shards of glass from John’s hand in a New Orleans mansion crawling with fantasies and nightmares, of toasting pink champagne in the lobby of the Chelsea Register Office, of museums and parks and beaches and apartments filled with threadbare couches and extravagant dreams, of Christmases and New Year’s Eves, of Roger convincing you to come to London with Queen on a June morning in 1974, cradling your face in his rough hands, promising you everything you’ve ever wanted: ‘Love...Accept. The fucking. Offer.’ And you could run to the other side of the world, sure; but you’re never going to be able to carve those memories out of your bones.

You let go of the suitcase, and Roger’s smile lights up his face like the sun.

~~~~~~~~~~

“Careful...careful, love...” Roger contorts himself to keep the umbrella over you and the Boston cream pie you’re carrying as rain pours out of a sinister grey sky. You both hurry beneath the roof that covers the front porch and ring the doorbell. Freddie answers wearing a tight green shirt, jeans, and an enormous toothy grin.

“Oh, for me?” he squeals, eyeing the pie.

You step inside as Roger stays out on the porch to shake off the umbrella and finish his cigarette; Chrissie hates people smoking in her house, and one should get what they want on their birthday. “Obviously, it’s for Chris. But I suspect she’ll share.”

Chrissie appears in a blue dress, her wide-set pale eyes alight as she gazes at the pie. “At last! I finally get to try one of these! And yes, Freddie, I’m only going to have the teeniest tiniest piece, so there will be more than enough to go around.” She embraces you and takes the pie. “Is this homemade?! It is, isn’t it?”

“Happy birthday, Chrissie,” you announce with a tired smile. Queen leaves for the News Of The World Tour in two days. You’re leaving with them, to everyone’s palpable relief; Freddie and Brian have never mentioned the headline to you, but they know about it of course. Everybody knows. It’s an elephant in every room, an ancient beast that quakes the floor when it walks.

“I’m going to miss you like crazy,” Chrissie tells you. “I always do.” But she’s a little thankful, too; because spending months away on tour is undoubtedly preferable to a permanent absence, a visibly missing piece like a chip in a tooth.

“I know. I’ll call.”

Roger steps inside the massive Chelsea home. “Happy birthday, Chris!”

She promptly spins away, ignoring him, and ferries the pie off to the kitchen. Freddie wraps an arm around Roger’s shoulder and steers him into the living room where Mary, John, a perpetually pregnant Veronica, and a host of assorted Mullens and Mays are passing the twins around like footballs and chatting over appetizers and tea and cookies. Biscuits, you correct yourself. And the shrimp cocktail are called prawns.

“What did you say your name was?” a middle-aged, rotund, bearded man asks John disinterestedly. “Josh? James?”

“John, actually. I’m the bassist.”

The man frowns as he gobbles down a shrimp. “Oh, how odd, I’ve never even heard of you.”

“Yeah?” Roger pipes as he sails over and claps the man aggressively on the shoulder. “Well let me introduce you. This is John Richard Deacon and he wrote You’re My Best Friend, you’ve heard of that one, right? He learned the electric piano to compose it. Yes, he doesn’t just play bass, he has all sorts of gifts. He’s massively talented. He builds amps and manages finances and can sketch pictures that look like freaking photographs...”

You wander into the kitchen where Chrissie is slicing herself a miniscule portion of Boston cream pie. “Oh fuck it, it’s my birthday. I’m having a proper piece of pie, thighs be damned.” She goes in for a second attempt. “You want any?”

“No, I’m alright. I haven’t been feeling well.”

Her brows knit together in concern. “Not compulsively consuming your own weight in snacks to avoid socializing with strangers? That’s unlike you.”

Well, since you asked, I was feeling even more piggish than usual until I found out my husband was fucking somebody else, and also that the entire country knows about it. “Yeah, weird.”

Brian enters the kitchen. “Oh, pie!”

“You want a piece?” Chrissie asks cheerfully. So they’ve made up somehow. Like they always do, like they always will.

“Yes, absolutely, but I’ll get it myself, love. You go enjoy yourself. It’s your day.”

She beams up at him and journeys out to the living room. You are in no rush to join her. Watching Roger charm the crowd, allowing him to dazzle you, to lull you back into his orbit like the subsidiary moon of a vast, ringed planet...no, you have no stomach for that at all. You pour yourself a glass of red wine and try to swallow without tasting it.

Brian’s doting demeanor evaporates like he’s taken off a mask. He sighs, mixes himself a Vesper, sips it as he leans against the kitchen counter and studies you warily. “How are things?”

“Paradisiacal.” Each night you sleep in the guest room with the blue-grey walls and the seahorse-patterned blankets. Roger tried to give you the main bedroom, still sleeps in a spare room in case you ever decide you want it; but you like that the blue room is smaller, more humble, that it smells like John’s brand of cigarettes, that there is no gaping emptiness where Roger usually is. Roger doesn’t try to talk to you about Dominique. He is attentive, optimistic, easygoing, affectionate; he lights the fireplace in the living room and brings you hot chocolate, he wears the red hat you once knit him every time he leaves the house. But he left the paperwork showing he’d sold the apartment—the ‘London Love Nest,’ isn’t that what the headline called it?—out on the kitchen table where you would see it. You know he’s waiting for you to forgive him, as if that’s an inevitability. And every once in a while you feel a guttural stab of fear that he might be right. Someone puts Hotel California on the record player out in the living room. “Every time I hear this goddamn song I get acid trip flashbacks. I start thinking of sharks for some reason.”

“It reminds me of...” Brian’s gaze goes murky. “Well, of a girl from New Orleans.”

The one from the hot tub. The one with a peach tattooed on her shoulder blade.

“We have a stop there,” you say. “You know, on the tour. We’ll be there for a few nights.”

“Oh, I haven’t forgotten.”

No, perhaps that’s all he’s been thinking about.

“How are you these days, Bri? Two beautiful children, adoring wife, We Will Rock You becoming a fantastically successful single...your world must seem pretty golden.”

“You’d think so.” He peers out the window where raindrops are clinging to fogged glass and the November skies are illuminated with episodic flashes of lightning like Morse code. At last he says, very softly: “I think I married the wrong person.”

“I think I did too.”

Bri raises his eyebrows and clinks his Vesper against your wine glass. “So we were both right. Fantastic. Cheers.”

You gulp down the rest of your wine, feeling your stomach roil in protest. You pour another glass. Brian drains his Vesper.

“You want me to escort you out there?” Brian asks, gesturing towards the living room. “I’ll happily redirect everyone’s attention towards the twins if you’d like. They’re very convenient conversation starters.”

“No, thanks Bri. You go ahead.”

“Alright. If you insist.” A smile ghosts his lips. “I’m really glad you’re coming with us, love. I’m sure it wasn’t an easy decision. And I’m sure things won’t feel easy for a long time. But Queen wouldn’t be the same without you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Now get out there before I punch you in your fragile liver.”

Brian laughs, sets his glass in the sink, and disappears into the living room. You stall in the kitchen by yourself. You sip wine, browse through the family photos displayed on the refrigerator, listen to the polite chatter of the guests from a distance. Eventually you venture towards the living room before losing your nerve and veering down the hallway towards the back porch. Outside the rain is falling torrentially, the sky rumbling with thunder. John is sitting on a wooden bench under the roof and smoking as he gazes out into the storm.

“Hey,” he says, sliding over to make room for you on the bench.

You sit down beside him and hold out your hand. He stares at you for a moment, puzzled, before passing you his cigarette. You take one long drag and give it back to him. John blinks at you, stunned.

“That’s extremely bad for you,” he teases.

“So is getting hammered and driving into cop cars.”

He clutches his chest. “Ouch. I felt that in my soul.”

You shove him, chuckling. He points down at your boots. You swing your feet up to rest in his lap, and he lays his left hand on them while he smokes with his right.

“Go ahead,” he says. “I know you might not want to talk about it. That’s fine. But if there’s any baggage you’d like to unburden yourself of, I’m listening.”

I’ve got baggage, all right. I’ve got enough to fill a Boeing 747. “Everyone warned me. Everyone told me it was a terrible idea to fall in love with him. Everyone except you, John. Why is that?”

He’s slow and deliberate when he answers. “I never wanted you to be with someone because...you know...because you thought you should be with them. Because they were the ‘smart’ choice or the ‘safe’ choice or whatever. I wanted you to make your own decisions, whatever those were. I wanted you to be with someone...whoever that was...only because you wanted to be. Because you loved them.”

You nod. “That makes sense, I suppose.”

“I told you once that it didn’t mean anything to someone like Roger when he...you know. When he does what he does. I was telling the truth then, and I’m telling the truth now. I don’t think it meant anything to him. And I don’t know if that kills any of the pain I know you’re feeling, but I hope it does. Because you being in pain is the absolute last thing I’ve ever wanted. Are you angry with me for not trying to change your mind?”

“No,” you say immediately, and you mean it. “Not at all.”

“Good. Because they took away my driver’s license for a year and I’m probably going to need a lot of rides from you.”

You laugh, a brash authentic laugh, and John grins over at you.

Chrissie hauls the sliding glass door open and steps out onto the porch with a frustrated huff. “I know this party is technically for me, but when you’re the mother of infant twins sometimes all you really want is a smoke, a nap, and a bottle of vodka.” She lights a cigarette and plops down into a chair facing the bench.

“How are you, Chris?” What you mean is: Have you screamed much at your husband lately?

“I’m doing pretty well today, actually.”

“Is that because you’re genuinely happy or because you’ve trained yourself not to be sad?”

Chrissie smirks. “You’ll find those feel like the same thing after a while.”

“No, I won’t find out. Because I’m not staying with him.”

“Love...” Chrissie begins.

“I’ll stay in London. I’ll even stay with the band. But I’m not going to stay married to him.”

“Y/N, please, maybe you should think about this,” Chrissie presses. “I know you love him. And I know he makes you wonderfully happy when times are good. Maybe that’s all we can ask for, you know? Wives in our predicament. Maybe we can learn to cherish them when they’re with us, bottle up the magic, store it on a shelf to tide us over until they come back home. No one else is going to light you up the way he does. There’s only one Roger Taylor. Withdrawal from that is going to be hell.”

You glower out into the wind and rain and say nothing.

“And that woman, Dominique Beyrand? I’ve asked around about her, she’s got some husband back in France that she goes home to when she’s not working here. It’s just a fling for her too, it’s nothing serious. I don’t think there was any chance he would have ever considered actually leaving you for her.”

“He bought her an apartment, Chris.”  

“Men do stupid things that don’t mean anything all the time. Isn’t that right, John?”

“Sure,” he offers ungenerously.

You stop yourself before the words tumble recklessly from your lips: Maybe you’re trying to convince yourself more than me, Chrissie. “I’m divorcing him,” you vow quietly.

“Okay,” Chrissie capitulates. “Okay. I’m sorry, love, please forgive me. I only got two hours of sleep, Teddy was crying all night.” She puffs on her cigarette and sighs mournfully. “I hate to say it, and I don’t mean to be insensitive, but I guess it was sort of lucky you never got pregnant. Can you imagine trying to split up when you have children together? Working out custody and finances and holidays, having to pretend like you don’t want to disembowel each other all the bloody time...it would be torture.”

John glares at her, his left hand still on your boots.

“Yeah,” you respond; but now you’re distracted, because you remember the reason why you had been so determined to ignore the phone when Chrissie called to warn you about the News Of The World headline. Because the kitchen phone was right next to the calendar, and the calendar would report in no uncertain terms that your period was due.

When was that? A week ago?

You can’t be late. You’ve never been late.

“Oh god,” you breathe.

“What?” John asks, concerned.

In reply, you lurch off the bench, stumble to the edge of the porch, and vomit red wine into the wet grass like a gush of blood. Chrissie soars to you and rubs your back as you retch into her lawn. “Oh no, you poor thing!”

“John, go away,” you choke out as he approaches. “I’m humiliated, I don’t want you to see me like this.”

“You saw me in a jail cell. I’m staying.”

You turn to look up at them. They read the raw horror and shock in your eyes. John’s jaw falls open and he shakes his head, firmly in denial. You could relate.

Chrissie gasps. “Oh, bloody hell.”

“No fucking way,” you wheeze. “After all this time, after all those months of nothing...”

“You better take a test,” Chrissie says. “Come on, I have a kit upstairs.”

She pulls you to your feet and leads you to her bathroom, deftly avoiding the increasingly intoxicated crowd downstairs. John waits just outside the door as Chrissie rummages around in the closet for the test kit. It’s a contraption that looks like a chemistry set, with a dropper and a test tube and a stand with a mirror. You piss into a paper cup—successfully although not with flying colors—and wash your trembling hands in the sink with a piece of pink soap shaped like a seashell. Then you lay on the cold linoleum floor with a folded towel for a pillow and a bucket within reach. Chrissie trickles a few droplets of urine into the test tube, mixes in the contents of a small plastic vial, and places the test tube in the holder that suspends it above the mirror.

Chrissie explains to John: “If she’s pregnant, the chemicals will form a brown ring in the tube. If there’s no ring, we’re in the clear.”

“How fitting,” you chuckle from the floor, dazedly, cynically. “That would be the only ring I’ve ever gotten.”

It takes two hours. The three of you loiter in the bathroom, Chrissie and John perched on the rim of the enormous garden tub, fidgeting and chitchatting anxiously. They alternate popping downstairs, mingling just long enough to not arouse suspicions, bringing back biscuits and bits of toast that they futility try to coerce you into eating. Chrissie doesn’t like the smell of cigarettes in the house, she never has; but now both she and John are chain smoking as they wait and periodically get up to check the test tube.

“This isn’t real,” you whimper. “This can’t be real, right? There’s no way the universe has this ironic a sense of humor.”

“Wait, something’s happening.” John waves Chrissie over to the test kit. She examines it.

“Love...” Chrissie begins, her voice tentative, her eyes glossy.

“No,” you insist. “No way, no fucking way, I don’t believe this...”

Chrissie turns the kit so you can view it, so you can see what she does reflected in the tiny mirror: a single dark ring that informs you you’re carrying Roger’s child.

[chaletnz]

Furano Trip

To make the most of my two days off I decided to drive to Furano after finishing work, to ensure I would be able to see the lavender first thing in the morning. I packed up the car and had a shower, then headed off. About 5 minutes after leaving home, I approached a cat sitting calmly in the middle of my lane, I screeched to a stop and the cat didn’t run so I rolled over the top and then it must’ve slunk away. It was enough to give me a fright, I drove a little slower from that point on since I was still in town. Well, after clearing Kutchan town I was on a country road on the way towards the mountains and the second cat was not as lucky... He darted out from a farmhouse and I saw his little ginger face in the split second before he bounced into the right front tyre. There was a bit of a thud but no bump. He ran off into the bushes. Very shakily I pulled over and went to investigate, there was a woman there who could speak English and she said she had seen him run down into the bushes surrounding the farm. I left with an eerie feeling that maybe I should go back home and drive tomorrow, like these cats were meant to be a sign. I drove on for about an hour, my lights on highbeam and my eyes on high alert – I was more concerned about deer now. I pulled over after another hour or so and sent a message to my mum just in case the universe was conspiring, and then the spookiest part... As I was sitting in the car recording my message, a third cat came running towards me! In the middle of nowhere! Very carefully I drove around it and back on to the road and that was thankfully the last cat I saw on the drive. After that it was smooth, I stopped for a late night McDonald’s at Chitose and then drove on until I found a nice big parking lot with a 24 hour toilet. There were bugs everywhere in the heat of a warm summer’s night, flying around the lights of the toilet building. I slept quite well all things considered.

The next morning I woke up around 6am when the heat in the car simply became too much to bear. It was gearing up to be at least 30 degrees today. Somehow the exact time I wanted to use the bathroom there was a cleaning crew surrounding it and I could just quickly brush my teeth and wash my face before leaving. I started by visiting a large campground park that I had intended on staying at last night but didn’t quite reach there, and luckily I hadn’t because it was a crowded carpark with a far worse toilet! I drove up to the first lavender field of the day, Choei Lavender Farm. There was a winding road up the back to reach a mountaintop viewpoint overlooking the lavender and the Kamifurano township. I battled to take some videos with my GoPro that seemed to be struggling in the heat already – by 8am it was already 28 degrees. Japan doesn’t do daylight savings so it means that sunrise is about 3am in summer so the hottest part of the day is earlier in the morning than you would expect. I parked down at the bottom of this farm and took a few more photos although it wasn’t possible to get a good angle of the word “Kamifurano” spelled out in Hiragana in large lettering filled with colourful flowers. I decided to get some gas because Kimbo was already thirsty again, and then arrived at Farm Tomita just before 9am. As Google maps directed me there, she made sure to inform me “this destination will be closed when you arrive” but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to wait for 10 minutes in the carpark. Well it seemed that the Japanese had the same idea! The main parking lot was already full and the parking attendant waved his lightsaber to guide me right down to the back lot. Furano has great flower fields but not much shade so poor Kimbo had to suffer in the sun while I went for a walk around. By now it was 30 degrees and humid. Japanese people carried umbrellas and wore full length sleeves in the heat. Many people were dressed up in their Sunday best to take family photos in the lavender with a bouquet purchased from the gift shop for 500 yen. Dogs were posed for photos and then taken back into the shade where they could lie down. I took my photos and walked around the perimeter but it was far too hot for me so I had to browse in one of the air conditioned gift shops to cool down. I tried to walk up the side of one of the more shady lavender fields but it was deceivingly steep and I struggled to get halfway! It was time for an ice cream break by 9.30am, and of course I had to try the lavender ice cream again. It was a soft purple colour, with a mild taste and started dripping immediately. Luckily there was a shady seat to sit and eat it and appreciate the views of Kamifurano and the mountains in the distance. In winter Furano is also a hugely popular ski resort that is often paired with Niseko for longer snowsports trips. To distract my thoughts, a child squeaked in with those annoying shoes that sound like you’re standing on a plush toy squeaker with every step. All heads turned to look at the child, who promptly trips up and starts scream-crying uncontrollably. And now my relaxing ice cream break was ruined. I walked around a little bit more and bought a few postcards and lavender things to send home then sat down for a drink and a potato croquette for an early lunch. I had been waiting around for a bit because I wanted to visit a café nearby that opened only at 12pm. It was relaxing anyway to sit and watch Japanese people enjoying the lavender and trying to get the best photos when the entirety of the scene is purple!

I drove to Kamifurano town and parked at the post office as I couldn’t find any free parking lots near the Polar Coffee café, I withdrew some cash and then walked there as a loud alarm sounded through the city – presumably a test as no one seemed even mildly concerned. On Instagram yesterday I’d seen that my colleagues Tim and Nick had come to this café which is owned by a Taiwanese guy (they’re also Taiwanese) and it had a good vibe from their photos so I was determined to try! It was even better than expected, I ordered a flat white and it was not only very Instagrammable but also cheaper than anywhere in Niseko. Cooling down in the air conditioned café was also a highlight. After my coffee I made the long drive to Asahikawa to see a rice field. But not just any rice field, one planted very carefully with different varieties of rice that had coloured shoots. The reason I made this long drive just for a rice field is because the second half of July is the perfect time to view such rice fields - the rice shoots have grown in and are brightly coloured at this time. I was very proud of myself as I directed myself to the field. Although a lot of people online said it was so hard to find, I had no trouble at all. Actually my Google map would have led me exactly there but I followed some signposts instead that said “tanbo art” on them in Japanese, and the reason I was so proud – I could actually read what it said! I was the only person there so I parked where I pleased and climbed up the viewing platform to see the art. Unfortunately the field was so wide that it was hard to take a photo of the entire thing, even with panorama! The design changes each year and this time it was a couple of anime characters, there was also something written way off to the left that wasn’t really visible from the platform and I could only see “2021” and some squashed Japanese characters from the ground. Anyhow, it was a very unique attraction and I was glad I had made the trip to see it. My next destination was the Ningle Terrace; a series of log cabin-esque boutique shops arranged along a wooden walkway in the forest. If my phone wasn’t so terrible with capturing greenery then it would’ve been another Instagram-worthy place to see but other than a cool photos the souvenirs were quite expensive and many of the shops were closed anyway. I took a long drive from Furano to Obihiro for tomorrow’s adventure and stopped at a mall for a KFC dinner. Usually Japanese KFC is great, but this one had unfriendly staff and they gave me a half frozen burger which I had to send back for a fresh one. I bought a few supermarket supplies and then drove towards the small Obihiro airport once it was dark to find a suitable parking space for the night. I passed the airport parking lot as it there were too many floodlights which would make it hard to sleep, further up the road there was a small shoulder so I stayed there in the pitch black instead, with a nice forest on either side. I got out of the car to change into my shorts to sleep but I heard rustling in the bushes and freaked out! Instead I changed inside with the doors locked. I felt a little uneasy falling asleep as there had been searchlights beaming around the sky that I’d assumed were to find intruders sneaking into the abandoned Gluck Kingdom theme park and I worried someone would knock on my car window and tell me to move on. Of course I didn’t want to get caught on my urban exploring but I thought “you would have to be absolutely insane to venture in there at night”. As it turned out though, the lights were for the airport perimeter security and nothing to do with the theme park coincidentally located about a kilometre opposite.