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chevroletdean · 1 month ago

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PAIRING: Dean x Fem!Reader GENRE: Smut (18+ CONTENT) TO NOTE/WARNINGS: mentions of (healed) injuries, PWP, established relationship, (guided) masturbation, dirty talk, sex toys, fingering, not proofread WORD COUNT: 2.8k PROMPT: 10) finding their partner’s sex toy/toys and making them play with it in front of them A/N: based on an anon's request, ty! CREDIT & LINKS: dividers by cafekitsune ─〃★ join the taglist ─〃★ Dean Masterlist

You were sitting on the bed, legs crossed, compact mirror in one hand, mascara wand in the other. Maybe it was a little silly, but you wanted to doll yourself up extra nicely today.

Dean’s been away for two whole weeks, working on this super complicated case several states over. You, on the other hand, had been stuck at the Bunker thanks to an annoying injury for the whole duration of his absence. A busted ankle rendered you bed-ridden for a while and Dean, ever the worried boyfriend, was strict about your healing process.

Thus, you stayed behind, unable to do much except twirling your thumbs and calling him every day.

Fourteen lonely days, every single one feeling like torture.

Even though your leg’s been fully healed since a couple of days, Dean insisted that you should take it easy. Restless as you were, however, you offered to tag along, join him after all.

His response you couldn’t have anticipated.

“I’m on my way home already,” he said through the phone, the curl of his lips audible. “Surprise, sweetheart.”

You immediately dropped everything.

That thick novel you’ve been reading? Shoved back onto the shelves. Your warm cup of tea to comfort that empty feeling in your chest? Left behind to cool entirely. Blanket? Who needed that when soon you would have your boyfriend’s arms back around you!

You nearly tripped over your own two feet as you rushed to your wardrobe. If you’d manage to break another bone in the process of exchanging your pyjamas for something nicer, Dean wouldn’t let you hear the end of it.

However, in your giddiness you could not be bothered to care.

Dean informed you that he’d be at the Bunker in an hour or two, which was just enough time to prepare everything. Like cleaning your room and making yourself presentable.

Absorbed in your own world, you hummed along to your playlist as you did the finishing touches of your makeup. Though, when your door creaked open, you squealed— half surprised, half flustered.

“You’re early,” you huffed, though the wide smile and the brightness in your eyes belied your attempt at scolding him.

You jumped up from the bed, practically flinging yourself into his arms. His eyes almost appeared greener than you remembered, or maybe you just missed the color so badly that seeing it again made your heart flutter even more than usual.

“My bad,” he played along with a chuckle and the deep rumble of his voice sent your pulse skyrocketing, “Want me to leave again and come back later?”

“Don’t you dare, Winchester,” you retorted, grin still wide on your tinted lips. Before he could even think about abandoning you again, whether in jest or not, you pulled him into a kiss, the familiar taste of him melting your heart right away.

Despite being worn down after a long drive and an even longer hunt, Dean soaked up your excited welcome, mimicking the effortless smile you wore.

“I missed you,” he mumbled against your mouth with a relieved sigh.

“Missed you too,” you whispered back, connecting your lips with his in another chaste kiss.

“I can tell,” he grinned, leaning back only to scan you up and down. You had picked one of his old Metallica shirts, paired with a denim mini-skirt. One that left him no choice but to whistle.

“Two weeks without me and you turn into a caveman,” you quipped teasingly. Still, that look of approval and desire caused your skin to tingle.

“Can’t blame a guy for appreciating his pretty girl,” Dean shrugged, boyish grin plastered across his face. “You look like a work of art.”

“And the canvas isn’t even done yet,” you chuckled. “Can you grab my lipgloss from the bathroom real quick?”

Dean didn’t respond for a second, too busy taking in the sight of you. His hands lazily trailed up and down your sides, testing the material of his shirt, the fabric old and worn and falling softly over those irresistble curves of yours. You were asking the impossible of him—no way did he want to pull away from you for even just another minute.

“What’s the point if I’m gonna kiss it off that pretty mouth anyway?,” Dean tested, wiggling his eyebrows playfully.

“Hold your horses, Cassanova,” you clicked your tongue with that flustered grin of yours, shyly shoving at his shoulder to nudge him towards the bathroom. “It’s the cherry flavored one, your favorite.”

Dean’s eyes lit up to match the flirtatious sparkle in yours, both thanks to the heavenly sound of your laugh and your little promise.

“Should’ve said so sooner, sweetheart,” he hummed with that wide, giddy grin of his. Though he did not let you off the hook that easily — giving you another peck, along with a well measured squeeze of your ass that had you yelp and giggle again — he turned on his heel and retreated to the bathroom.

“Gotta freshen up a bit anyway,” was the last thing you heard him mumble.

As for you, you swiftly finished the last bits of preparations. The moment you learned he’d finally come home, you knew just how to welcome him back properly. Microwaved popcorn, some slices of greasy pizza, one or two of Dean’s favorite old Western classics.

“Steve McQueen or John Wayne?,” you called as you were shuffling through the DVD collection in the box, which usually sat under your bed. You’d found it pulled out already and, what can you say, sometime’s not tidying up immediately has its perks.

And sometimes it’s a bulletproof set-up for failure.

Dean returned just then, though it’s the rasp of his voice that grabs your attention rather than the steps of heavy boots you expected to appear behind you.

“Wanna tell me what this is?”

Curious, your head turned to him. Your gaze fell on his frame first, much closer than you thought he’d be and half-naked. He’s washed the grime off his skin, which thus was slightly damp and smelled like the perfect blend of citrus and spice.

Once finally managing to peel your eyes off his broad chest, your eyelashes flickered upwards. Though your heart sank right to the bottom of your stomach as you realized what he was holding might’ve been pink, but it definitely wasn’t your lipgloss. Instantly the shade of your cheeks matched the silicone toy he waved around.

Your Satisfyer. Of course, you’d just cleaned it in the bathroom and forgot to put it away. Hence that box not being stashed away yet either.

“I can explain,” you muttered shyly, almost timidly and tense, though your defensive response earned you just a smirk from Dean.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he hummed. “Didn’t say I was mad.”

He turned the small vibrator in his hands, once, twice, eyeing it with curiosity. Not anger. Not disgust or any of that.

“Didn’t know you owned one of these,” he spoke, casually, as if he didn’t just jumpscare the shit out of you by wiggling your sex toy in front of your face.

You’re not sure what prompted you to even attempt defending yourself: “I only use it when I miss you too much…” While justifying why you had it, that explanation certainly didn’t make you feel any less exposed.

A thick silence followed, so heavy between you you could hear your own blood rush through your ears. The blush crept from your face to your neck, darkening into a tomato-red.

Dean stared at you as if you’d grown a second head, and you couldn’t possibly maintain eyecontact with him anymore. Although, when you averted your gaze, he lifted your chin up again, looking down at you with an intensity that overwhelmed you.

“When you miss me,” Dean echoed, voice low and laced with something dangerous. Something proud. Like the secret you just revealed equated to you handing him a trophy.

Shyly, you nodded. Barely.

“You’re thinking of me when you’re touching yourself, sweetheart?” His words had you shudder. And swallow. Thickly. Though your throat remained dry and you didn’t trust yourself to speak up just yet.

“Hmhm,” you hummed quietly, nodding again. Wasn’t it self-explanatory? Of course you were. It was always him you imagined in those moments. It was always his touch you wished would explore you. His hands, mouth, thick cock—

“Show me,” Dean spoke, holding the item out for you.

Bewildered, you blinked at him, unsure if you understood correctly.

“Wh-what?”

He took a step forward, towering over you in a way that made you feel small, but desired all the same. Instinctively, you staggered backwards, until the back of your knees hit the edge of the bed, causing you to sit down.

“Show me what happens when you miss me, sweetheart,” Dean elaborated, placing the toy in your lap and then pulling back.

Your eyes, wide with shock, never left him as he pushed a chair over to the bed and made himself comfortable, sitting there leaned back and ready to enjoy the show.

“But I— You…”

Dean tilted his head, one hand reaching out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear. “What? I wanna see my girl make herself feel good. Just do it like you normally would.”

It’s not that you were uncomfortable with the idea, knowing he’d never push you to anything you don’t want. It’s rather that his request made heat pool at your core, so fast that it made you dizzy. He couldn’t possibly hold you getting so flustered against you.

This felt like a damn ambush, one that made your brain short circuit.

Hearing the gears turn in your head, Dean leaned forward, supporting his elbows on his knees and tilting his head. “Not your cup of tea, sugar?”

Damn bastard knew what he was doing, letting his wolfish eyes roam your body like you were some frozen-in-the-headlights deer. The low rumble of his voice was enough to make you instinctively squeeze your thighs together.

“No— I mean yes? Just…,” you stuttered, making a complete fool of yourself. This was uncharted territory. You knew your body and how to explore it. Dean knew your body and how to explore it. But in this constellation, the alignment of stars painted a new picture.

While you didn’t want to admit how awkward you felt, not wanting to sound lame, Dean understood without you having to spell it out for him. He got up from the chair and settled on the bed instead, making himself comfortable right behind you.

Biting your lower lip, you let his arms circle around your waist and pull you closer until your back was pressed flush against his chest. The heat of his skin seeped through your clothes and you relaxed into his embrace right away.

“This okay?,” he whispered, the gentleness of his voice contrasted only by the brush of his stubble against your cheek. As his fingertips slipped under your shirt, erasing the tension from your middle, you leaned back into him even further.

“More than okay,” you answered, voice soft but sure.

You felt the smile tugging at his lips against your neck, along with the kiss he placed there. Slow and deliberate. Reassuring you while his fingers made quick work of your skirt’s button. He unfastened it, helping you lift your lower half to slip the denim down and taking your panties right with them.

Both items discarded onto the floor, you shifted into a more comfortable position. You settled between Dean’s legs and slowly spread your own, following the guide of his palms that stroked the plush of your thighs.

“Show me, please?”

The way he asked for it had your heart and pussy flutter in tandem. That desperate edge to his tone, the subtle twitch of his fingers against your inner thighs — as if he was itching to touch you himself, but wanting you to do it instead.

You bit your lower lip and pressed the toy’s switch, its soft buzz making both yours and Dean’s breath hitch.

You guided the vibrator to your slick folds, your center already throbbing with anticipation. Dean’s chin settled on your shoulder, eyes glued to your ministrations. Having him watch you at your most vulnerable, such a private moment suddenly so intimate, it drove you to the brink of insanity.

“You’re tellin’ me this is what I’m missing every time I’m gone?,” Dean huffed through a clenched jaw, absolutely mesmerized by the sight in front of him. You, all splayed out for him, letting yourself fall apart, unwavering trust behind your actions.

A whine left your lips as you shook your head shyly.

“No?,” he hummed, hands still tracing lazy circles over your thighs, occasionally lifting your oversized shirt out of the way.

“Mmh, ‘s different when you’re here,” you replied in between ragged panting.

“Different how?”

“Better.”

You had no idea what those words did to him. Or maybe you did, judging by the way you arched your back and pushed your hips back, just to feel the tent in his boxers.

“What’s it like when I’m not here?” Maybe Dean was pushing his luck, asking you to share the most scandalous of your thoughts, wanting a glimpse of your fantasies. Or maybe he was pushing your buttons in just the right way, relishing in the flush of your cheeks and the tremble of your lips. “What’re you imagining then, baby? Bet you wish it was me touching you, right?”

The moan bubbling from you was broken but beautiful, accompanied by another nod of yours.

“Use your words, sweetheart.”

You angled the toy up slightly until the ring suctioned right over your clit, pressure and friction so delicious you sobbed softly.

“Wish you’d fuck me, keep thinking ‘bout your cock filling me,” you rambled to your own surprise.

“Keep it up, and I might,” Dean chuckled lightly behind you, his only reward for now another kiss to your flushed skin.

Eager to please him, more than pleasuring yourself at this point, you turned up the setting. Though your thighs twitched, you kept chasing the feeling. Your hips automatically bucked into the smooth surface of your toy. It was practically drenched already, glistening with your essence.

“So fucking pretty,” Dean rasped, large hands holding your legs open from behind.

You whimpered, throwing your head back against his shoulder as the pressure between your thighs became nearly unbearable. Dean used the opportunity to plant wet, hot kisses across your neck, burying his nose in the curve of your shoulder.

“Doing so good, baby,” he whispered. “Just a little longer, can you do that for me?”

“Dunno, ‘m so close,” you cried, coil in your lower stomach so damn tight, so damn close to snapping.

“’s alright,” Dean purred, his own hand maneuvering their way between your legs. You yelped softly as you felt his fingers collect your wetness and run right through your slit. “Almost there.”

Overwhelmed, you almost squirmed away, but his grip on you was iron, his words whispering sweet affirmations into your ear. How pretty you looked. How good you felt. How perfect you were. And the best part about it? He was actually, really, right there—not some flicker of your imagination, not the ghost of his touch or the memory of his voice.

Dean slipped one finger inside of you, then added a second one. His thrusts were steady, a welcome scratch to the itch you could never quite manage on your own. A soothe to your nerves only Dean was able to accomplish. He was making you sing and curse and worship his name with your voice.

“Let go for me,” Dean spoke, talking you through it as all that you managed were moans and slight thrashes.

He pushed you over the edge with ease, catching you all the same in the storm of your orgasm. The intense crash of heat washing over you caused one of your hands to grasp his wrist—you weren’t entirely sure whether you were trying to make him slow down or asking him to keep going.

Dean slowed his movement, the pulsating of your heat subsiding gently until all that was left was you, sweaty and shaking in his embrace.

“Good to be back,” Dean quipped jokingly, sealing your long awaited reunion with another lock of your lips.

Dean Winchester Taglist:

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#dean winchester x reader #dean winchester smut #supernatural x reader #spn x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x reader #dean x you #supernatural x you #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural smut #dean winchester fanfiction #deansc #spnsc #deansmut #spnsmut #chevroletdean writes

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bambi-kinos · 4 months ago

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Sorry for taking so long on this post, I've been writing it in my head for weeks trying to figure out how to phrase everything. But umm I think Paul was in a bath tub when he was taking certain photos of John.

So the book itself is divided into sections based on location. There's a London section, a Paris section, then they go to New York and then on to Miami, etc. The London section is really interesting and the photos are very revealing IMO. I definitely recommend getting your hands on a physical copy, your local library may have it. This is something you should experience physically because uh. There's a lot of John in here. To me at least it's very obvious how deeply in love Paul was with John.

So imagine for a minute that you're Paul McCartney, and you're in London, England with your best mate.

The way that journalists are treating this set of photos makes me feel a little insane because so many of them are saying "this is John and Paul backstage!" Y'all, this is not John and Paul backstage. This is John and Paul in their hotel room. Alone.

First off let's look at this:

Here's John shaving the stubble off his face. Sunglasses still on; John had prescription sunglasses so if he's wearing these then his contacts are not in. Look at the background of this photo:

John's in the way here but that is a set of curtains in a hotel room! You can tell from the horizontal bar on top, those are to hold the black out curtains. And another thing: I think these are John and Paul's suitcases sitting on top of a wardrobe. Not entirely sure about that though since the image is so grainy.

At this point John has taken off his sunglasses, he's brushing his teeth and has washed his face. Again, look at the background:

This is a medicine cabinet, a storage feature in bathrooms to keep toiletries safe from the humidity caused by a bath and/or shower. I don't know how common these are anymore:

What I find interesting about this sequence of photos is that John first pulls a funny face for Paul:

But then something grabs his attention:

Spits out the toothpaste:

And then off John nyooms...making soft eyes at Paul no less.

Pay close attention to the background on this photo! We're seeing the hotel window from another angle, the horizontal strip at the top is the tell:

I outlined the horizontal strip on the curtain and then drew lines on the dips in the fabric so you can compare it to the OG photo:

Paul is utilizing an interesting run-and-gun style of camera shooting here, he's got John tilted and at an angle that puts John over Paul. Unconsciously signaling something? Let's move on...

According to this strip...

...this is the next photo in the sequence:

Again calling attention to more interesting details here:

John's tie is missing and his shirt is undone. And that looks like a towel in his hands. He's turning in for the night.

2. John is standing in front of a reinforced door which are common in hotels but are not common in dressing rooms:

3. This photo is itself a reflection of John's face that Paul has taken in a mirror, maybe a vanity mirror. Someone in the McLen discord server said it was too small to be a vanity mirror and I'm inclined to agree, so maybe it's a compact or hand mirror propped up on the sink.

So what does this mean? I think that John and Paul were getting ready for bed, someone knocked on the door, and John went to answer it. You'd think Paul would but for some reason he didn't. Oh and another thing...check out the four jackets in the mirror:

They're definitely hanging from something so John and Paul were looking out for the suits that night.

Next in the sequence, John is back at the sink washing up. Check out the hotel window curtain being reflected in the mirror there!

Then something kind of odd happens...John is seen coming back and re-entering the shot again? Through out Eye of the Storm Paul emphasizes a lot of duality with John, including a shot where John reflects on his own sculpted face. Paul was very interested in John doing performing the act of reflection on his own face:

But here's the really interesting bit and what makes me think Paul was naked in a bathtub when he took these last two photos:

Y'all, that's the fluffy fringe of a towel! You can tell that the threads are hanging down from it! These are very different from the clean lines of the curtain or the medicine cabinet or even the lines of their suit jackets! Paul was sitting in or on the edge of the bath tub when he took these photos of John! He wrapped a towel around his camera to protect it from getting wet! Cameras are generally made for right handed people so when Paul had his finger on the button on the right hand side. That means Paul keeping his finger on that button pushed the edge of the protective towel over the lens!

So I submit to you Paul McCartney's Eye of the Storm, where he submitted a film strip where he was staying in a hotel room with John and was most likely nude and bathing when he took John's photographs! Someone knocked on the door to get their attention while Paul was naked so John answered the door for them, while Paul followed him a little. John was enjoying having Paul right there for him too:

PLEASE get Eye of the Storm, it's such a great book and there's so much in it. Paul lets the pictures speak for themselves and wow they have one hell of a story to tell!

@perasperaadastratoday

#mclennon #eye of the storm #the beatles #paul mccartney #john lennon #long post #photo post #my meta #beatles meta

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megalony · 3 months ago

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Pre-Exposed

This is a new, angsty Evan Buckley imagine requested by anon. I'm sorry it took me so long to write this for you.

I hope you will all like it, please let me know what you think.

Taglist: @justagirlthatlovedtoread @musicistheway @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @luula @missdreamofendless @bradleybeachbabe @woderfulkawaii @amberpanda99 @daggersquadphantom @marvel-and-chicago-fan @angryknightstatesmantrash @minjix @lyje @kmc1989 @itsmytimetoodream @noonenuts @hiireadstuff @ashie-babie @classyunknownlover @jayyeahthatsme @sp1ritssz @dumb-fawkin-bitch @oliverstarksbae @gimatida @heart-35 @supernaturalstilinski @kyky9103 @gay4hotmilfs @itshamleth @chaoticnosleepinfluencer @gs29 @wh0reforsmutstuff @mel-vaz @natashamea18 @chrisevansdaughter @alexandra848484 @deena-beena-weena @targaryenluvs @kpoplover-19 @marvelmenarebeautiful @gillybear17

@zoeybennett @mrspeacem1nusone @zephyrmonkey @estella-novella @eleventhdoctorsangel @kniselle @senjoritanana @shauna-carsley @dottierose @cfdhouse51 @darkfemme1 @rainechase45 @lolalolsstuff @jupiter1700 @ashdoctor @an-aliens-ghost @lunaroserites @houseoftwistedspirits @callsignwidow @winterreader-nowwriter @reneinii @bellsbomb @western-pyro @itsgigikay @harry-satellite @midsummereve1993 @babyqueen17 @buckyyyismahhlife @sammiejane22 @mrsyixingunicorn10 @op-81-lvr-reblogs @talicat713 @niamhmbt @strawberry-canyon @bieberhoodforever @911fangirlie @hollandxxmix @jasmineee05 @creat1venat1onn @devilslittlehelper @darlingcharling-blog

Evan Buckley Masterlist

Summary: (Y/n) and Evan have a son together, and when he becomes unwell, hidden family secrets begin to surface. And Evan isn't sure he can forgive his family for the secrets they have kept from him.

Enjoy.

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

Hooking her bag onto her shoulder, (Y/n) took a deep breath and walked away from the car. Her tongue darted out to run across her dry lips as she made a brisk walk through the school gates and followed the winding path towards the reception doors.

It wasn't often that (Y/n) got a phone call from the school. Jack wasn't like other boys. He wasn't one for getting into fights or playing up, that wasn't him and he loved his school work. He was involved in lessons and had a passion for learning.

The only times (Y/n) ever got a call from the school was regarding school trips or to be made aware of something that was happening. And those calls were rare and few.

When she left work just after lunchtime, (Y/n) hadn't been expecting to get a phone call from the school telling her that Jack had fainted. Sometimes he tripped or got a graze when he hurt himself playing games during break and sometimes he was sick, but it rarely happened.

(Y/n) could count the times on one hand when she had needed to come and pick Jack up from school. That told her that this had to be worrisome.

Her hands started to clench and curl into fists as she headed through the double doors and turned towards the reception desk.

"Hi, I got a call to come down for Jack Buckley?" (Y/n) couldn't stop herself from tapping her fingers against the reception desk as she waited for the woman to look at her notes to know where Jack was.

Things like this always made (Y/n) nervous. Whenever she had to take Jack to the doctors or to any appointments, Evan was always there with her. She didn't know what to do with herself or how to stop the tension and stop from feeling so uneasy.

"He's just through here."

Rolling her lips together into a thin line, (Y/n) nodded and followed the receptionist down a short hall towards a row of rooms. (Y/n) recognised a few of them to be the teacher's offices, a supply cupboard and finally a small nurse's office.

The room wasn't very big, it was about the same size as a walk in wardrobe with two chairs in front of a computer desk and a small bed in the corner for examinations. It much resembled a compact GP room at the doctors. And there, perched on one of the chairs to the left, was Jack.

The ten year old looked worn out. He was slumped forward with his arms resting on his knees and his head bowed down. His body was jittering and lightly trembling and he looked pasty like all the colour had been drained from his body. When he tilted his head up to see who had walked into the room, a small smile pulled at his lips but it didn't make him look much better.

There was a drowsy look in his eyes that made (Y/n) fear he might be on the verge of collapsing again. He looked like he wanted to go to bed.

She hurried into the room and set her bag down on the chair next to him while she crouched down so she was in front of him. Her hands rested on his knees and she tried to smile as she looked him up and down, checking for any injuries or anything that didn't seem normal.

"What happened?" (Y/n) glanced back over her shoulder to look at the receptionist but she was surprised when Jack slumped forward until his head was resting on her shoulder. And he shakily looped his arms around her neck and leaned against her chest like he was a toddler again who wanted to be carried around.

"We're not quite sure if he fainted or fell asleep at his desk, he dropped and hit his head on the desk. And he's very lethargic."

That didn't sound good.

(Y/n) knew instinctively that Jack must have fainted. He wasn't the kind of child who would fall asleep just anywhere and not once had he ever fallen asleep in school. He didn't take naps when he was at home, Jack was such a hyper, wired boy that naps weren't something he seemed to be able to do.

And if he had slumped down and hit his head on the desk then it made sense that he would have fainted. By the looks of him he seemed like he might be within range of fainting again.

(Y/n) kissed the top of his head before she moved her hands to his shoulders and gently tried to reel him up so he was sitting straight again. But her head tilted to one side and she frowned when she watched him grimace.

"My back hurts." He muttered quietly while he kept one arm around (Y/n)'s neck and moved his other hand to point round to his back.

When (Y/n) glanced back at the receptionist, she shook her head with a blank expression and her hands tightly knitted together in front of her. He hadn't mentioned that to her or said anything about falling and hitting his back or having anything happen to his back.

(Y/n) pushed up on her knees so she could lean over and carefully roll Jacks shirt up towards his shoulders so she could check what he was talking about. Her breath caught in her lungs and her chest seemed to seize up when she looked at his back. There were bruises scattered around his lower back like splatters of paint. Some were fading from purple to pasty blue and others were a dark yellow with a green tinge, suggesting they had been there a while.

"Jack, baby, what have you been doing? Did you play-fight with someone?" Some of the bruises looked old, but others looked new.

What had he done? Had some of the other kids been picking on him? (Y/n) dreaded that thought. She didn't want to learn that other kids had been bullying Jack or else she would have to tell Evan and get him to come down to the school and have a stern word with them.

"I fell playing football with Chris." He winced as he spoke and clicked his spine into place whenhe straightened up and (Y/n) pulled his shirt back down.

He didn't see how his words caused his mum to frown in confusion. He had played football with Chris last week when they all went to the park together with Chris and Eddie. His back shouldn't be bruised this badly and the bruises should have all started to fade out by now.

Was he trying not to tell her that something else had happened? Had he forgotten that he might have bumped into something or fallen at some other point during the week?

"Okay baby, let's go home."

(Y/n) slung her bag back on her shoulder, muttering a soft 'thank you' to the receptionist while she curled her arm around Jack's shoulders and tucked him into her side. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, observing him as they headed out to the car.

He was walking like he was sluggish. If (Y/n) didn't know any better she would have thought he hadn't had any sleep last night and was running on last reserves. But she knew he had slept well, he barely managed to get out of bed this morning he had been in such a deep sleep.

The nerves building up inside (Y/n) only got worse on the drive home. Jack didn't sing along to the radio like he usually did. He wasn't nodding his head to the music or tapping his feet. He didn't try and make any conversation with her at all. He slumped down in his seat and blearily looked out the window like he had been stuck in a trance.

Once they got home, Jack turned to look up at (Y/n) with those tired blue eyes that made her want to cry. "Can I watch a movie?"

"Sure baby." She kissed his temple again, noting that he wasn't running a temperature which was one good thing at least.

She followed him inside and watched him from the living room doorway for a few moments. Jack slumped down onto the sofa with a thump and set about finding a movie on the kids channel, but he didn't look fussed. (Y/n) knew he had to be feeling unwell because he wasn't watching a new movie, he put an old one on that he had seen many times before with Evan. Clearly he wasn't interested in watching a movie, he just wanted the comfort of having something on in the background.

Her heart shuddered and squeezed tightly when she watched Jack flop onto his side a few moments later. He stretched out on the sofa with his face burrowed down into the pillow and when (Y/n) leaned over to look at him, she noticed he had his eyes closed.

He was going to sleep. He really wasn't well.

"Hey babe- buddy?" A frown pulled on Evan's features when he jogged down the stairs and caught sight of (Y/n) heading into the kitchen. But when he noticed what movie was playing on the tv and the shoes that had been kicked off near the sofa, his face morphed into confusion.

He leaned over the back of the sofa and rested his hand on Jack's arm, watching as his boy mumbled his name but didn't bother to open his eyes or look up at him.

Evan trailed his fingers along Jack's cheek and ruffled his hair before he headed into the kitchen to find (Y/n). He had expected her to be home around now, but he hadn't expected to see Jack with her. Evan was supposed to be picking him up from school in two and a half hours.

"What's he doing home, did something happen at school?"

(Y/n) felt a small swell of relief when Evan's arms encased around her middle and he pressed his lips to the back of her head, giving her a tight hug as his chest merged down against her back.

"He fainted in class this afternoon, and he's so tired." The worry was clear in her voice and by the expression on her face when she looked up over her shoulder to glance at Evan.

"Is he sick?" It wasn't like Jack to be ill at school, and Evan couldn't remember the last time he had known their son to faint for any reason.

"I don't know… can you go look at his back for me, see what you think?"

A quiet "His back?" whispered into her hair as Evan made sure he heard her right before he untangled his arms from her and trudged back into the living room. He could feel (Y/n) hovering close behind him and his brows furrowed in confusion when he noticed Jack was already fast asleep, breathing softly into the cushion his face was squished into.

Crouching down beside the sofa, Evan took care to be gentle and slow as he lifted up Jack's shirt. Thankful his boy was laid on his stomach so he didn't have to turn him over and disturb him.

"Jesus, what'd he do? Has someone hit him?" The anger was present and bubbling up inside Evan's voice even as he whispered towards (Y/n) who was stood in the doorway, biting her nail out of anxious habit.

If anyone had hurt Jack or done this on purpose, there would be Hell to pay. Evan would march down to the school right now and demand to see the child and their parents if someone had done this to Jack. They had never had to worry about him being bullied before, he wasn't exactly one of the popular kids but he was gentle and kind and funny and he had his own small group of friends who he got along with.

With a deep breath, he pulled Jack's shirt back down and grabbed the cover to drape it over him if he was having a nap. He was clearly feeling sick if he was going to sleep at one in the afternoon.

When he walked back over towards (Y/n), Evan reached out and wrapped his arms around her waist, anchoring her into his chest with his lips meshed up against her temple. He could feel (Y/n)'s hands gripping his biceps and her head tilted down until her lips were pressing against his throat, causing his Adam's apple to bob up and down.

"He said it's from football, when he was playing with Chris last week, but he fell on the grass. Babe I don't think he's well, all he wants to do is sleep and he's forever got that cold."

It wasn't just today, (Y/n) had noticed Jack being sluggish and without his usual burst of energy for a while now. And he had been suffering with a cold for more than two weeks, which also wasn't like him. He seemed to be under the weather a lot just lately and (Y/n) didn't like it.

She could feel Evan's arms tightening around her as he sighed against her temple. Neither of them wanted to brush this off when something clearly wasn't right with their boy. He could just be suffering from a bad cold or the flu, but it could be an infection or a virus or an underlying cause like anaemia. They had to get him looked at.

"I'll book him in at the doctors in the morning."

***

A cold slither of dread crept down (Y/n)'s spine from the base of her neck right down to her lower back when she and Evan walked into the doctor's office.

She couldn't help but feel like something was wrong, like something was amiss but she couldn't tell what it was.

Her hand tightened around Evan's until she was sure she was about to cut off his circulation and her free hand curled around his bicep, gluing herself up into his side. She tried to smile when the doctor looked up towards them and motioned his hand towards the seats in front of his desk, urging them to sit down.

Once they were sat down, (Y/n) leaned herself to the left, pushing more into Evan's side as she tucked up against him in a vain attempt to stay calm.

"Thank you for coming in so promptly, Mr and Mrs Buckley."

"You said you had some results to talk about?" Evan looked between the doctor and (Y/n), a placid expression on his face.

He and (Y/n) had been worrying all morning about this appointment. They had gotten a phone call two days ago after they had taken Jack to the doctors last week and he had some bloods taken and an examination by the nurse. (Y/n) had been expecting to talk over the phone, she thought they would tell her Jack had a virus or he was anaemic and would need some medication.

When she was told to make an appointment with the doctor as soon as possible and come down for a chat about the results, she knew. She just knew this meant something was serious.

Their only relief was that they didn't need to have Jack here at the appointment, he could go to school none the wiser that his parents would be going to an appointment with the doctor about him. He was only ten, he didn't have to be there for the consultation. But needing a chat with a doctor meant that this was serious.

"Yes, we've had the blood tests back for Jack. We ruled out anaemia and pneumonia, but there were a few anomalies so I sent them across to a colleague at the hospital in oncology for a consult."

"Oncology?"

Evan didn't like the way (Y/n) stiffened beside him and when he looked down at her, he was frightened to see the panic bubbling up in her eyes. He felt her nails scratching into the back of his hand and he leaned in closer to her side as his lips parted and a shudder ran through him.

He found himself muttering "What is that?" towards (Y/n) because clearly she knew what that meant. Evan wasn't a nurse like Maddie or a paramedic like Eddie and Hen. He didn't know all the medical jargon and that word had already gone over his head.

"No, b- but that's for cancer." (Y/n) shook her head as she spoke and she felt Evan bristle in his seat like he was turning to stone.

And when she looked up at her husband, Evan looked like all the colour had been drained from his features. He had gone positively grey as a blank look flooded his face and his baby blue eyes started to deepen as tears welled up in his eyes.

"Yes… I'm sorry, the results have come back positive for acute leukaemia. It's a form of cancer in the blood, I'm afraid it's serious."

"No, oh no."

Bile rose at the back of (Y/n)'s throat and she felt her stomach churning as she turned to the left and pressed her face into Evan's shoulder. Each strangled breath she took fanned against his shoulder and into his cotton shirt. She could feel him leaning into her, his lips merged with the top of her head and his hand curved round to cup the back of her neck like he thought she was about to break into hundreds of little pieces.

She could feel Evan's hand clenching around hers, pressing so tightly he was squeezing her knuckles together and threatening to pop them out of place.

Each breath Evan took mingled in with (Y/n)'s hair and he knew a tear or two had trickled down his face into her hair.

This wasn't right. It wasn't fair.

How could this be happening to their Jack? The results had to be wrong, but deep down, Evan knew they wouldn't be. It was a rarity that the hospital ever got any results wrong or mixed up, contrary to what some people liked to believe.

"This form is usually seen more in children, it's destroying his white blood cells which will weaken his immune system, along with affecting the way his body functions. The tiredness, easy bruising, stiff joints, long sickness, it's all symptoms."

But those were such common symptoms. They could all be accounted for by a common cold or a lack of vitamins or being anaemic. Those symptoms were relative and could be due to a number of simple, little things. Why did Jack have to have something as serious and deadly as cancer? What had he done to deserve this?

"Wh- how do you treat it?" Part of Evan found it strange that this could be considered cancer when it wasn't a lump or a tumor in Jack's blood. It was an inefficiency to produce the right cells and destroying the few good cells he did have.

Did he still need chemo or radiotherapy for something that was happening in his blood?

How were they going to explain this to him? Evan didn't want to tell Jack that he had cancer. That was the last thing any child wanted to hear and it was going to freak him out. But they couldn't exactly keep this a secret from him when they would be bringing him to the hospital for appointments and whatever form of treatment he was going to need.

"Chemotherapy is always the most direct and effective route, getting rid of the affected blood cells so proper ones can form. We'd also like to do a bone marrow transplant after chemo. All the blood is made in the marrow and if he gets healthy marrow, he can make healthy cells much quicker that way and get his body back on track."

A guttural sound emmitted from Evan's lips as he dropped his head forward into his hand. His fingers scratched into his scalp, tugging at his curls and scraping until he was sure he was drawing blood along his hairline. He could barely feel his other hand that was tangled with (Y/n)'s, they were squeezing each other's hand so tightly that there was no blood supply to either of their hands anymore.

Their boy was going to need chemo. Jack would have to come to the hospital, he would have to miss out on school and do his work from home or the hospital. He would become sick- sicker than usual. He would be run down, he wouldn't be himself. He was going to lose his hair, become weak in himself.

And they were going to have to put him through all of that if they wanted to give him a chance at surviving this.

This was going to be agony for Jack. Evan had heard about bone marrow transplants, he knew what that meant. Thick needles right into the centre of the bone to inject marrow and hope that the body would take to it and start using that marrow to produce proper cells.

That was going to be a big procedure for a ten year old. How were they going to explain any of this to him? How were they going to get Jack through this?

"So, so what, he goes on the list, for that transplant while he's in chemo? When does that have to start?"

(Y/n) kept her right hand curled around Evan's bicep and she leaned her cheek onto his shoulder, letting him do the talking as she felt like she was in some kind of bubble or trance.

Tears were silently pouring down her face and soaking into Evan's shoulder while he sat hunched forward with his left hand cradling his chin and jaw. His mind was starting to go on overdrive, something that always happened when he was nervous or panicked like this.

"We need to start chemo as early as next week, but the good news is we don't need to put him on the list." The doctor could see that this was a lot to take in, but he seemed somewhat glad that both parents were up to talking it through here and now.

It was better to talk through everything now and try to get some consultations and dates booked in as soon as possible for Jack's health. They couldn't wait and let him deteriorate, they had to get him into treatment now to give him the best chance at recovery and pushing through this.

"Why?" (Y/n) sniffed and brushed her sleeve beneath her swollen eyes while she stayed leaning into Evan's shoulder.

Was there a donor at the hospital who happened to be a match for Jack? Not needing to wait was a good thing, it meant Jack could be helped sooner rather than later and doing all the treatment now would be the most effective method for his treatment and recovery.

"Mr Buckley, your records show you are a complete match. If you'd be willing, we could use your marrow when we're ready to do the transplant."

(Y/n) swallowed deeply as she watched Evan sit up straight rather than being hunched over his knees. There was a solemn expression on his face but a faraway look in his eyes, like his body was sitting here with her but his mind was wandering somewhere else completely.

It was as if a wave of calm had washed over him and he nodded his head. If Evan was a match, then that's what they would do. It was much better having a relative donate, especially Jack's dad because that meant there was a bigger chance of his body accepting the marrow and taking it.

Evan would do anything for his boy. He would give him blood transfusions, bone marrow, he would give him a kidney if he needed it. Evan would die for him. He would do absolutely anything for his son and making Evan a full match was like fate was trying to make up for what the wrongs that they were now imposing on Jack.

"Do it."

***

(Y/n) felt like she was walking in a trance. It was how she had felt for the last few days, really. Everything she did made her feel like she was on autopilot. She cooked without really noticing what she was doing- and it was a miracle she didn't burn or cut herself with her mind being so distracted.

She tried to watch tv with Jack but the voices just turned into static in her ears and her mind started to drift off without really looking at the tv. And she could see that Evan was doing the same when he was home, it made her wonder what he was like when he was on the job.

Her hand tightened around Evan's as they stood on the doorstep and waited tiredly for Maddie to open the door.

She had been the first person they spoke to after they got the news from the doctor. They didn't know who else to call or what to do. After a lengthy chat, they had agreed to come round to see Maddie today while Jack was at school. As of next week he wouldn't be back at school, he would be spending his days at the hospital getting his first round of chemotherapy. Just the thought made (Y/n) cringe and cower down into Evan's side.

They both knew they must have looked a state when Maddie opened the door to greet them. Her eyes were glistening with tears when she looked up at her little brother and sister in law.

Maddie cocooned an arm around each of them and brought them into her chest for a hug that instantly made Evan feel a tiny bit better. Maddie always had that effect on him, she had always been that comforting, parental figure he went to whenever anything was wrong.

"Come in." She pressed a kiss to Evan's cheek before she pulled back and guided them both inside.

They were expecting to be led into the kitchen, that was always the first place Maddie went when they came over. She would either put the kettle on or source out a bottle of wine, but today she turned left and headed for the living room instead.

A cold shiver ran down Evan's spine when he walked into the living room and noticed two people sitting on the sofa. His feet became rooted to the spot and his skin started to bristle and the hairs on the back of his neck stuck up like needles. He found his fingers tightening around (Y/n)'s hand and he leaned into her side as his chest tingled and started to tighten.

"Mum? Why're you here?" Surprise flooded Evan's voice and managed to mask the uneasy discomfort that he felt at their presence.

He hadn't expected to find his parents here.

He could feel (Y/n)'s shoulders slumping down and her cheek pressed into his arm as she leaned into him a little more like her energy had suddenly been drained to nothing.

"You told them, about Jack?" There was no anger or betrayal in (Y/n)'s voice, there was hardly any emotion at all. She nodded when Maddie gave her a timid look, clearly thinking she might have overstepped a mark but if anything, (Y/n) was relieved. She wouldn't want to be the one to break this news to anyone in their family and she knew Evan would of had a hard time trying to explain this to his parents.

It had been bad enough when Evan had to tell his parents that he'd gotten his girlfriend pregnant when he was seventeen. His parents hadn't been best pleased that Evan was going to be a teenage parent, it wasn't something they had in mind for him and it didn't go with the modern family image they tried to pass off to friends and neighbours.

That was why Maddie had been more involved in Jack's life and why Evan's parents only started to get involved with him over the last few years.

Telling their parents only made this more real. (Y/n) hadn't told her own parents yet, she was waiting until next week when they were going to be coming over for a visit. This wasn't something she could tell them over the phone.

With a sigh, Evan trudged into the room and moved towards the armchair while Maddie squashed herself down next to their mum on the end of the sofa. Evan heaved himself into the chair, trying to sit up straight but all he wanted to do was melt down into a puddle and disappear. He spread his thighs and moved his hands, silently indicating for (Y/n) to sit with him rather than sitting across from him on the other armchair. He didn't want her sitting alone.

She obliged, relieved at the invitation and sank down on the end of the chair between Evan's thighs. Her back moulded up against his chest and she felt his arms curve around her waist and lock together in front of her abdomen like he was caging her in and refusing to let her go again.

"Maddie rang us, and we came straight down, oh Evan… how is he?" Margaret leaned forward and set her cup down on the coffee table before she tried to pat Evan's knee, but she could tell that the comfort wasn't welcomed.

He stiffened in his seat and shifted his leg until his mum retracted her touch. She had never been very good at comforting Evan or truly caring when he was upset and starting now simply made him feel unsettled.

He thought it was good of them to show some sort of support now though. It hadn't taken much for them to come down and see if they could help. That was more than two years ago when Evan had been in an accident and got his leg crushed by the fire truck. His parents had come down after Evan's third surgery when he was practically at the end of his recovery.

Evan wasn't sure if he was happy or enraged that they were caring about Jack more than they ever did for him. It meant they were trying with Jack, trying to get that connection and be in his life and that was good, but it reopened the wounds Evan had tried so hard to heal. The wounds they inflicted when they constantly pushed him aside and showed him how he would always be second best to them.

"Petrified." Evan nudged his nose against (Y/n)'s hair and closed his eyes, breathing in her scent to try and calm himself down a bit more.

"We've told him it's a blood disorder, we don't- we don't want anyone telling him what it is." (Y/n) tried her best not to burst into another fit of tears and she steeled her expression to try and remain calm.

They didn't want anyone telling Jack that he had cancer, not right now anyway. That would overwhelm him and scare him and they didn't want that. They wanted this treatment and recovery to be as easy as possible for Jack so they had sat him down and tried to explain that he had a blood disorder where his blood wasn't producing the right cells.

He knew he was going to the hospital from next week and he would be having medicine to try and sort it out. And when they had explained that he would have a bone marrow transplant- which they tried to explain as a blood donation to make it easier- Jack had been relieved to know Evan would be the one giving him the blood and he would be with him through the procedure.

It made Jack feel comforted to know that his dad would be experiencing something similar in the way of a donation and that his dad was helping him.

"Evan… we have to tell you something."

He didn't like the sound of that. His arms tightened around (Y/n)'s waist and his cheek pressed up against the side of her temple as he narrowed his eyes at his parents.

It wasn't often that Evan saw his mum look anxious like this. She was always uneasy, stern, usually unhappy and prickly, but she never looked worried about anything, at least not when it was concerning him. But even his dad looked uneasy right now, with one hand drumming along his thigh and the other hand entwined with Margaret's to comfort them both.

But when Evan glanced over to Maddie, his brows furrowed and he noticed his sister looked unsettled too. She was trying her best to sit still but she was starting to fidget. Maddie only fidgeted when she was hiding something, Evan knew the signs and he could see the way she had both hands tightly clasped on her lap and she was spinning the ring around her index finger. A nervous habit she had never gotten out of.

Suddenly, Evan wasn't so sure that he wanted to hear whatever they had to tell them.

"This leukaemia, it- it… little Jack might have it because it runs in the family." Margaret couldn't find it in herself to look at Evan, the guilt was evident in her eyes and so she looked down at her hands instead. Noticing how much she seemed to have aged in the last few years.

Had this moment come round already? Since the moment Evan had been born, Margaret had been dreading the time when they would have to tell him the truth about his birth and his life. She always thought that this moment was so far away, but it had finally caught up to them.

"What? Who else had it?" Confusion plastered across Evan's face as he tried to wrack his brain to work out who in the family had ever had leukemia.

Aunt Lisa had breast cancer, Evan remembered that vividly from childhood because his mum had spent two weeks out of town to look after her sister. And he was sure Phillip's dad had suffered with some ailment before he died, but Evan couldn't think what exactly had been wrong with his grandad.

Evan never saw his grandparents very often, Maddie had always been closer to the rest of the family than Evan was. But he didn't know of anyone close who had this form of cancer, and it had to be someone close in the family for his parents to think that it was why Jack now had this too.

"Your brother."

(Y/n) couldn't help the smile that pulled at her lips and she huffed, looking between Maddie and her in-laws with disbelief welling up in her eyes. If this was them trying to make light out the situation then (Y/n) didn't find it helpful nor amusing.

What the Hell were they talking about? (Y/n) had known Evan since he was fifteen and not once had he, his parents or anyone in their family referred to any brother.

"Look, if this is some kind of joke I don't find it very funny."

"No Evan, this isn't a trick. We, we had a boy before you, when Maddie was two. Daniel."

"Maddie please…" The desperation in Evan's tone had tears welling up in Maddie's eyes and she coiled her arms tighter into her waist as she winced.

He was begging for her to tell him that this was some kind of sick joke that clearly wasn't funny. He wanted her to explain, to say that their parents were having some kind of stroke and none of this was real.

How could they have had a son before Evan and not told him? How could they have kept this from Evan his whole life? No pictures around the house of him. No acknowledging his birthday or his memory. No mourning or griving for him over the years. Not even telling Evan one memory about him. That was sick.

If Evan and (Y/n) had more kids but lost Jack, they would never just erase him from their memory and pretend he hadn't existed. He was their son, he was their world and if something happened to him they would want to keep his memory alive, not bury those memories along with him.

It took all of Evan's effort to stay sitting and stop from bolting up from the chair and walking away. He had to tighten his arms around (Y/n)'s waist and pin his chest into her back until he could scarcely breathe in order to remain in control of himself and stop from exploding.

"He got diagnosed when he was seven, we tried chemo, but it was aggressive. He needed marrow, and stem cells, so we, well, it was a hard decision, but we…"

"Evan's a donor baby?" Shudders crept up and down (Y/n)'s spine as she glared at her in-laws who she barely recognised.

"Yes."

How could they do that to him?

(Y/n) had always seen it. From the moment she met Evan's parents, she had seen how they treated him. He wasn't abused, but he wasn't loved or treated with much respect either. (Y/n) saw how Evan hurt himself, he purposely fell from trees, had skateboard accidents and broke his bones in order to get some ounce of love from them.

It was clear to see that they valued Evan as an ornament in their family, but as a son, they couldn't love him like they did with Maddie. When Evan told them (Y/n) was pregnant, they had been less than understanding. Evan was ruining their image and the ideals they had about the life he would lead.

And now it all made sense. Evan hadn't been a child they longed for, he was a tool to protect and save their other son. He had been a remedy that didn't work and they couldn't bring themselves to grow to love him when they never really wanted him in the first place.

"And it didn't work?" Evan unlocked one arm from (Y/n)'s waist so he could run his hand up and down his chin and jaw, tracing the stubble he was beginning to grow.

"We were heartbroken, and we didn't want you knowing the real reason why we- why we had you… so we thought we best not tell you."

"Are you sick?"

The cynical tone to Evan's voice made his mother visibly flinch and caused his father to shake.

What did they think they were doing? Why did they think keeping this from him was the 'normal' thing to do? Surely they would have known that they couldn't hide this from Evan forever, this couldn't have been kept a secret for his whole life.

If Evan had known the truth, he would have understood. He would have realised why his parents couldn't love him like they did Maddie. He would know why looking at him made them flinch or brought an old sense of sorrow to their eyes. He would never have tried to hurt himself to gain their love if he knew the reason why he was alive and the brother he never knew.

Evan would have let them treat him badly, he would have accepted that they couldn't love him and he would of had more respect for himself. He wouldn't have grown up believing something was wrong with him if he knew.

"Buck, he died." Maddie's voice broke as she tried to stay calm and collected. "When you told me the other day about Jack, I had to tell them in case he has it because of Daniel."

"You let me grow up believing I wasn't good enough, and all the time you knew why I was treated like that?" Evan's voice rose with every syllable until he was practically shouting at his sister, the woman who had raised him since he was a toddler whose parents couldn't be bothered with him.

All this time. All his life, Maddie had known. Every time Evan asked what was wrong with him, what he did to upset their parents, why they couldn't love him. And all those times Maddie told him he hadn't done anything, she lied and said they did love him in their own way. She even said she didn't know why they were sometimes cold-hearted towards him.

She had lied to Evan every day of his life.

All this time Evan felt like such a burden on Maddie. He felt like she had been forced to become a teenage parent, that she was forced to love him and bring him up because their parents simply wouldn't do the job themselves. Evan felt so guilty and bad for Maddie. He never needed to feel like that.

If he knew the truth he wouldn't have been craving love and attention so much, he wouldn't have relied on Maddie so much. He wouldn't have felt guilty because Maddie was the one with the guilt. She was the one who felt guilty for lying to him, she chose to care for him, she chose to comfort Evan when he was upset.

"I couldn't tell you-"

"Bullshit Maddie." The snide words snapped at Maddie and caused her to quiver and sink back into the sofa.

Evan felt himself starting to shake when (Y/n) slithered out of his arms and stood beside the chair instead. She had far too much adrenaline rushing through her to sit still and she could feel Evan bubbling up like a volcano that was about to explode.

"Why did you watch?" Evan's words confused Maddie who frowned and shook her head, for she didn't know what that implied. "You watched me hurt myself. You watched me break my ankle, my arm, I cracked my ribs, I got concussed. I nearly got fucking runover and you watched! You watched me do that for their fucking love. You think I would have tried so hard if I knew the truth? I wouldn't have done any of that."

If Evan knew the truth he would never have hurt himself. He would never have played so dangerously as a child. He wouldn't have skated on the roads, he wouldn't have climbed the tallest trees, held his breath and then allowed himself to fall. He wouldn't scrape his knees and break his bones and cry his heart out to get some sort of love from their parents.

If he knew the truth, Evan would have let things be as they were. He would have accepted the fact that their parents couldn't bring themselves to love him. He would have realised that hurting himself would make their parents fret and fear rather than making them care. They were worried they would lose another son, they weren't suddenly loving Evan like he believed.

Maddie should have told him, but instead she watched him. She stood by and allowed Evan to be reckless and hurt himself and scream and beg for their parent's love and attention.

Evan was sure that Maddie tried to whimper "I'm sorry." But it came out as a blundering cry more than a few broken-hearted words.

He pushed up from the armchair, hands balled into fists and his whole body reduced to trembling as he tried to decide whether he wanted to stand here and argue or turn and walk away. Leaving might have been a better option, but there was still so much more that Evan wanted to say, and he might not have these feelings and this courage to speak again.

Nothing passed Evan's lips when he glanced over towards his wife and realised (Y/n) was silently crying. Tears were streaming down her face and her eyes were starting to swell as she bound her arms around her waist and looked at his parents with such torment and anger in her eyes that Evan barely recognised her.

His hand reached out for her arm and he was relieved when (Y/n) moved her hands and clung to his arm rather than pulling away from him. But she wouldn't look at him. Her eyes were solely focused on his parents who were turning redder by the second and who were starting to cry too.

"You… don't- don't you see what you've done?" She did her best to steel her voice but it didn't work very well. "We didn't know t- the symptoms. If you told us we might have been more aware, more cautious… Evan, he… he's been so sick, and we…"

She couldn't finish her sentence.

They hadn't known.

Jack's symptoms were so generic and easily misconstrued as a simple cold or illness. But if they had known that leukaemia ran in the family, that Evan's own brother had died from it, then they would have been more aware. They would have known what symptoms to look out for.

They could have told their doctor when Jack was born and at his check ups, it could have been on his file as something to be aware of and look out for. He could have gotten help before now if they had known they were pre-exposing him to this form of cancer.

Guilt dwelled in Evan's stomach like hundreds of stones settling in his abdomen and crushing everything inside of him.

He turned to the right, cupping the back of (Y/n)'s neck as he pressed a wet, shaking kiss to her temple. He had pre-exposed Jack to this and he had no idea. Jack had gotten this from Evan, from his side of the family. Evan should have known, he should have been more aware.

"It's not your fault-"

"No. It's yours."

Tears continued to fall down Maddie's face as she gasped and pressed one hand to her chest where it felt like her heart was physically breaking into thousands of little pieces. It felt like a glass heart had shattered and each fragment was now coursing through her blood, splitting her apart from the inside out.

She hadn't meant any harm. She had been told not to tell Evan and how could she go against their parent's wishes?

"Someone should have told me."

This wasn't about Evan anymore, this was about Jack. Evan could just about grasp the fact that they had lied to him all his life, but when they knew that Evan could potentially expose Jack to this illness they should have spoken to him. He was seventeen when they had Jack, he was more than old enough to understand and to take in all that information.

He should have been told so he knew how to protect his son and what signs to look out for so Jack could be kept safe. Chances were that Jack did have this because it ran in the family and had been passed down.

"We kept this secret for so long-"

"When we had Jack one of you should have explained this to me! You all watched him grow up, you knew I was pre-exposing him to this and you didn't tell me. We could of had him tested! We could of monitored him a-and had some kind of awareness. But you just stayed silent and watched from the moment he was born."

Evan's right arm was encased against (Y/n)'s chest, but he moved his other hand to grip the back of his neck. He could feel his short nails puncturing through the skin, scratching at the short hairs and gathering flecks of skin beneath his nails. But it didn't do much to calm him down.

All of Evan's life, all of Jack's life, they had been lied to. Ten years, they had sat by and let Evan raise Jack in blissful ignorance that there could be anything wrong or underlying with him. They watched for a whole decade as Jack grew up and they never once told Evan that something might be amiss, that there could be something passed down to him.

If Evan kept a secret from Maddie he felt like his intestines were churning themselves into knots and he always felt his body prickling with heat and his heart had palpitations when he thought about what he was hiding from her. He thought she felt the same. But how could she when she had gone over twenty years without telling Evan the biggest secret in their lives?

When Maddie stood up, Evan glared down at her. His upper lip curled into a tight grimace and his nose crinkled as he wondered who on Earth was stood in front of him right now.

Whenever she tried to comfort him growing up, Evan always felt like he was home, like he was safe. Not this time. This time, as Maddie brushed her hand along his arm and tried to cup the sides of his neck, all Evan could feel was dwelling uncertainty and revulsion.

As Evan grew up and started to grow taller, Maddie started to loop her arms around his neck or she would pull on his shoulders to drag him down to her height for a hug. They both secretly loved that he was the little brother and yet he was tall and broad and could envelope Maddie in a hug.

But as Maddie tried to nudge Evan's neck and pull him down for a hug like she always did, her lower lip wobbled and a broken sound left her lips when Evan didn't budge. He tensed his neck and tilted his chin back, fighting off more tears as he refused to look at her.

She couldn't hug away the guilt she felt and she couldn't expect Evan to sit down and accept this like he accepted every other wrong-doing in his life.

This was different; this involved Jack.

Reaching behind his neck, Evan held Maddie's hand with a strange tenderness but she hated how he pulled her touch away and dropped her hand back towards her. He didn't want her to hug him. He didn't want their parents to try either because he could see they were now both stood up and trying to inch closer.

The slightest touch of Margaret's hand on Evan's shoulder made him recoil and stumble into (Y/n) as he tried to step back. Her touch had never been comforting since he was a child and right now it repulsed him.

"Don't touch me." The way Margaret uttered his name in despair didn't make Evan feel anything but anger. She had no reason to be so upset when she had brought this on herself. All three of them had.

His hand tightened around (Y/n)'s and he nudged her back until she took the hint and started walking towards the doorway with Evan close behind. They weren't staying here any longer. They needed to go home and talk and process this before they had to collect Jack from school and act like their world hadn't just been twisted into an alternate dimension.

"We're leaving. And don't think you're gonna see Jack on this shitty little visit, not after this." The way Evan pointed at his parents made both of them stutter and gasp and his mother seemed to clasp her hands in front of her like she was suddenly going to pray for his forgiveness.

"Evan, please!"

He had never heard his father say his name in such a desperate manner or sound like he was begging him. It was so strange that Evan almost felt like he was in a dream. But he wasn't going to relent and he knew by the way that (Y/n) squeezed his arm and kissed his shoulder that she felt the same.

They had come here solely to drop this bombshell and explain what they had done wrong. They weren't here to see Jack or ask how he was or what kind of treatment he needed, that came second. What they prioritised was earning Evan's forgiveness minutes after unloading their guilt onto him.

That wasn't how it worked. They couldn't do this and then expect they could still see Jack. Evan wouldn't let them near his son, not until this had all cleared up and Evan found a way to forgive them. Maddie, he would forgive. In a day or two, he would see reason and allow his guard to drop, but he wasn't sure when- or indeed if, he would ever be able to truly forgive his parents for this.

Evan was about to walk through the doorway when he turned after a second thought and glanced over his shoulder at the three of them. "You know, I may not have been good enough to save this brother I never knew, but I'll be damned if I can't save my boy. This time, my blood's gonna be enough."

Evan's sole purpose when he had been born might have been to save his brother, but his purpose now was to save his son.

And he wouldn't let Jack down.

#imagine #911 imagine #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley imagine #buck imagine #buck x reader #maddie buckley han

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honeytonedhottie · 20 days ago

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confessions of a teenage it girl⋆.ೃ࿔*:･🍪🎀

im honey, and these are confessions of a teenage it girl...💬🎀 being THEE hyper feminine doll is more than just a self imposed title to me, its a lifestyle. its the knowing that the world is my runway and im the muse 🌟 in this post i'll be giving my confessions

CONFESSION #1 I TAKE MY "AESTHETIC" VERY SERIOUSLY ;

i never just wake up and throw something on (or i try not to at least) i try and make it a point to doll myself up everyday to some extent even if im not going anywhere. this includes wearing a cute outfit everyday, doing my hair and makeup etc. outfits are planned in advance and curated in my fashion binder, my day is already planned on my notion and ALL of that. im always doing touch-ups in class or on the go so in my purse i always carry my warm cream perfume oil from prty grl beauty, and my bedazzled heart shaped compact mirror and dior lip oil to blow expensive kisses 💋.

CONFESSION #2 THE MENTALITY IS THE REAL TEA ;

underneath all the glitz and glam, all i've got is me so i take care of me. i practice law of assumption so im always keeping my thoughts in check and manifesting the lifestyle i love to live so much 🌟 i meditate to regulate my nervous system, my self care game is TOP tier. i walk my signature doll-walk, cuz the world is my oyster and i KNOW it. every moment is an opportunity to exude fabulosity, confidence, and girliness. even if i’m running on an iced matcha and self concept thoughts on loop in my head. the key is being self CENTERED. one of my favorite quotes is from nicki minaj where she advises all the barbz to step their cookies up (AKA take care of you and your business first)

CONFESSION #3 RETAIL THERAPY IS MY SPORT ;

dont get me wrong, i LOVE to do pilates, weight train, go on walks. all of that is super fun, but my realll sport, is RETAIL therapy. i take it VERY seriously. curating my dream wardrobe one purchase at a time is just such a DREAM whether i do it from my phone or in person. i even have a post-shopping ritual. after shopping i post all my shopping hauls on twitter! 👛. but i've shopped so much im ACTUALLY an expert. a sale, HATES to see me coming bcuz i just cant resist.

#honeytonedhottie⭐️#it girl #becoming that girl #that girl #it girl energy #confessions of a teenage ir girl 👛💕#girly #hyper feminine #femininity #hyper femininity #fashion #shopaholic #dream girl #dream life #dream girl tips #princess #dolling #self confidence #self confidence tips

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 7 months ago

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Frisky Friday thot?

You've caught the attention of not one gorgeous blonde, but two at one of Stark's parties. Each charming in their own way, they make room for you to sit between them and offer you a drink. One drink won't hurt.

Right?

Just a Drop

“You are such a buzzkill," Mandy snaps as she untangles the thin strap of her bag. "I'm tryna do something here and you keep whining that you're all alone--"

You reel at your friend's harshness. She asked you to come. She even said she needed the moral support. After all, how could she go alone to one of Stark's infamous parties. She's so nervous, don't you know?

"Sorry, but I don't know anyone but you--"

"It's a party. Get out there," she retorts and pulls out her mirror compact. She checks her lips and flicks her lashes. "Now, if I keep Tony waiting, he's going to find someone else. So go. Plenty of people to mingle with."

You sniff back your reticence and the sting of her tone. You nod and she spins on her heel and stomps back through the door. You contemplate leaving. Would she notice? Well, if she realises you ditched her, you would have zero friend in the city.

You look down at yourself. You even let her dress you. The sweater is blush pink with sequins on it, but she was frustrated that it was so baggy. She paired it with a skirt even though it’s cold. She couldn’t lend you any of her clothes because they wouldn’t fit. The one thing she did give you from your wardrobe were the shoes. Heeled booties that make you teeter.

You make yourself go back into the room. The voices hit you like a sonic wave. Everyone is so cheery and excited to see each other. It’s crowded and chaotic and you have no place there. It’s no different than you’ve felt your whole time in the city. Lost and alone.

You set to wandering around. You’ll pace away the time until Mandy releases you from this purgatory. You shrink away from the woman you know to be Natasha Romanov. You tried to say hi but she looked at you as if she would swat you away like a gnat. Then there’s the men she’s with; they’re hulking, mean looking figures.

You fold your arms and try to will yourself into invisibility. Certainly, given a number of your company, that can’t be entirely impossible. You pass behind the couch and something knocks against your elbow as you walk along the leather.

You recoil and turn to rub your elbow as you watch the man touch his blond hair. Oh no. As he leaned back, you must have bopped him. You cradle your arm and cringe.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to,” you say as his blue eyes find you. It’s Thor. The god of thunder. He was one that Mandy was sure to point out; a backup plan, she proclaimed. “I didn’t see you.’

“Not to worry, lady. My own fault. I was being rowdy and did not think before I threw myself back,” he drops his hands. “I should be honoured to be battered by a woman so enchanting.”

You blink. You’re not sure if he’s mocking you. Sometimes Mandy’s compliments turn out not to be. The man beside him glances back too. Oh, Steve Rogers.

“Hey, you seem lonely,” he says, “who’d you come with?”

“Oh, uh,” you look around. You don’t see Mandy. “A friend.”

“A friend?” He echoes.

“Yeah, but I don’t know where they went...” you trail off.

“How improper of us, Rogers,” Thor reaches over to muss Steve’s hair before he stands. He turns and faces you over the couch, “my lady, I present to you Steve Rogers of Brookland.”

“Brooklyn--” Steve corrects.

“And it is I, Prince Thor of Asgard,” he touches his own chest as he booms, “would you do us the honour of joining us for a drink?”

“Oh, a drink?” You squeak in surprise. “I hate to impose--”

“Impose? We could use the company,” he assures you and waves you around. “Rogers, make room, you lump.”

“Lump?” Steve mutters, though there’s a lilt of humour in his voice.

You hesitate, swaying, then come around the long leather sofa. You don’t want to be rude. Especially to them. And it’s exactly what Mandy told you to do; mingle.

Steve stands as you approach and gestures you down to the cushion between them. Thor remains on his feet as the other man sits with you. You peek over at the captain then up at the prince.

“I’ll fetch us a round,” Thor declares. “I shall be fleet.”

He turns and struts off. You stare after him and twiddle your fingers nervously. Your eyes skitter around. What do you say?

“Not a big fan myself but Tony loves these things,” Steve says.

“Oh, yeah, I’ve never... I don’t go to many parties.”

“Well, you’re not missing out on much. I always end up dragging out the punchiest moron in the room. Unfortunately, that’s often my buddy.” He points and you follow it to the dark-haired man with Natasha; Bucky Barnes.

“Oh, right,” you murmur. “That’s... too bad.”

“He doesn’t even have a good excuse. They don’t serve anything he can get drunk on,” he snorts.

Thor returns, giving you a start. He sets down three glasses on the low glass table across from you. “My lady,” he says and turns to sit, his weight shifting the couch. “The bar man says it is something fizzy. I can’t be certain,” he explains. “Rogers,” he turns to look at his cohort, “I’ve brought some of my home brew...”

“Of course you did,” Steve scoffs.

Thor reaches under his jacket and slips out a small flask. It’s gold and round, with elaborate patterning in it. He twists the cap and you feel a tug on your sweater.

“I like this, it’s pretty,” Steve says.

“Oh, uh, thanks.”

“Yes, very becoming,” Thor adds as he pours into one glass, “and for you, Rogers.” He trickles more into another.

You turn and look at the clear, bubbly drinks. Thor tucks away the flask and grabs two. He hands one to you. Rogers reaches for the third.

“Thank you,” you accept the cold glass.

“Skol,” Thor raises his glass.

“Cheers,” Steve mirrors him.

You look between them, feeling smaller as you feel their body heat brewing. You just lift your glass higher to let them clink it. You follow their lead, drinking when they do, though you nearly cough it back up.

“Oh, bubbly,” you cover your mouth. Strong, you think. You don’t have the highest tolerance.

“How long have you been in New York?” Steve asks, catching you off guard.

“Oh, just about...” you tally in your head, “one year now.”

“Wow, newbie,” he comments. You take another drink, just for something to do.

“As am I,” Thor adds. “I do miss home but I like your planet too.”

You nod and sip again.

“Have you been to this place, Central Park?” Thor asks. “I was lost for a whole day.”

“Imagine that, a whole god, lost,” Steve laughs.

“Eh, I was off duty,” Thor argues.

They banter back and forth and you’re all too happy to fade into the leather. You slurp tentatively. Mandy is still elusive. You suppose she managed to snare her game but what about you?

As your eyes flit around the room, it seems to rock. You lurch forward in a sudden bout of dizziness and lean forward to put the glass down. You miss the table but the glass is caught from underneath. Thor takes it and puts it on the table. The ice hits the glass. You drank it all without realising.

“Thirsty,” he remarks as you slouch forward. He pushes you back and Steve help eases you against the cushion, “are you feeling it?”

“How much did you put in hers?” Steve hisses.

“Just a drop,” Thor assures, “never worry, Rogers, I know as I am doing.” He pets your forehead as your head falls back under its own weight. You blink at the ceiling as your body slackens. “My lady, never fret. We are heroes, we will take good care of you.”

#thor #steve rogers #dark thor #dark!thor #dark!steve rogers #dark steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #drabble #mcu #marvel #avengers #captain america

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hometoursandotherstuff · 9 months ago

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This is insane and it just came out yesterday, and will open on Aug. 21st. So, who wants to stay in the new Polly Pocket house? It's so weird, though, it's all open and you sleep in the tent thing. Located in Westford, MA, it fits 4 guests in 1bd and has a private 1/2 bath (so don't even think about showering or anything.)

It's hosted by Polly Pocket herself, so I'll let her describe the photos: Hi, friends! Sleepover at my place! You in? I’ll be off on a 35th birthday adventure, but my life-sized Slumber Party Fun compact is all yours for the night.

Play dress-up with my wardrobe. Suit up for adventure with my dresses, glamour jacket, scarves, and more!

Craft some bling for your BFFs. Unleash your creativity at my picnic table—aka Friendship Bracelet Station.

Raid my kitchen for your fav ‘90s goodies. It’ll be all that and a bag of chips! And lots of candy, too. My compact is stuffed to the brim with all my favorite snacks from the greatest era in snacking history. Ring Pops and Push Pops and Baby Bottle Pops, oh my!

Be kind, unwind, and rewind with a movie marathon on literal video cassettes. Remember those?! The couch pulls out, so snuggle up. BYOB (Bring Your Own Blanket).

At night, embrace the outdoors and camp out under the stars in my Action Park Tent. Whisper secrets, tell ghost stories, and giggle into the night while cozying up in one of the four sleeping bags I left for you.

Other things to note: My compact doesn’t close because, like me, it’s always open to adventure. So, what do you think? I don't know why they went w/the compact instead of the house. I don't like the openness. Maybe it's a temporary installation?

https://www.airbnb.com/rooms/1177661634882168657?

#polly pocket airbnb #polly pocket #other stuff

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asphodel-storm · 15 days ago

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At some point early on, while Kelvin was helping Keefe purge satanic influences from his life:

"Okay that is my fidget spinner, all my posters, and most of my compact discs."

"You're doing really great, buddy, letting go of these things is hard for a lot of people."

"I guess my wardrobe is probably next. The devil is probably speaking to me through the gaps in all my mesh tops."

"...nah." Kelvin said with no ulterior motives whatsoever. "You're all good there."

#kelvin x keefe #keefe x kelvin #kelvin gemstone #keefe chambers #gembers #the righteous gemstones

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simdertalia · 2 years ago

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🐚 ACNH Mermaid Set 🧜‍♀️

50 items | Sims 4, Base game compatible.

Type “ACNH Mermaid” into the search query in build mode to find quickly. You can always find items like this, just begin typing the title and it will appear.

Always suggested: bb.objects ON, it makes placing items much easier. For further placement tweaking, check out the TOOL mod.

Use the scale up & down feature on your keyboard to make the items larger or smaller to your liking. If you have a non-US keyboard, it may be different keys depending on which alphabet it uses.

Remember that you can resize items in game with your keyboard! Note that if you have a non-USA keyboard, that it may be different keys, but it still works.

I hope you enjoy!

Build Mode: 1 swatch each -Floor Pastel -Floor Sand -Floor Underwater -Wall Pink -Wall Sea Horizon -Wall Underwater

I offer anyone who wants to, to add proper vertex paint to the lamp item. My vertex paintbrush in Blender doesn't work the way it is supposed to, no matter what I try. If anyone wants to add the vertex paint I will update the file with the fixed version & credit to the person who added it. Without this paint on the mesh, the whole item illuminates strangely when turned on, so turning the brightness down can remedy that issue until it is fixed. I am also working on figuring out why I'm having this issue in Blender.

📁 Download all or pick & choose (SFS, No Ads): https://simfileshare.net/folder/198833/

📁 Alt Mega Download (still no ads): https://mega.nz/folder/RspmSYRS#sjQNNOMvBK3CdKgt3E3IeA

📁 DL on Patreon

Will be public on September 4th, 2023

Happy Simming! ✨ Some of my sets will be early access from now on. If you like my work, please consider supporting me:

★ Patreon 🎉 ❤️ |★ Ko-Fi ☕️ ❤️

Thank you for reblogging ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

@sssvitlanz @maxismatchccworld @mmoutfitters @coffee-cc-finds @itsjessicaccfinds @gamommypeach @stargazer-sims-finds @khelga68 @suricringe @vaporwavesims @mystictrance15 @public-ccfinds

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saphstories · 6 months ago

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one bed trope sonamy

As You Wish

The heavens would prove unkind tonight, she regretfully mused, wincing at the booming thunder that shook the skies and the carriage. “Not a fan of storms, Lady Amelia?”

Amelia Rose sighed and smiled awkwardly at her companion, sitting across the carriage from her. His emerald eyes were inquisitive, searching hers, while his posture was relaxed, chin in his hand, appearing almost bored. “Not when they impede the procession home, Lord Silas.” She replied, drawing her burgundy cloak tighter around her shoulders.

Silas snorted. “Aye, especially when I can run faster than the carriage.”

Amelia’s ears perked up. “Is that so?” She asked.

Silas nodded, a bit of a smug smile on his peach muzzle. “Aye, milady. I’ve obtained quite the moniker for my speed. My friends call me ‘Sonic’, and I overhear many of the townsfolk refer to me as ‘The Blue Blur’.”

“Sonic,” Amelia tested the epithet on her tongue, and smiled at him. “I must say, it suits you.”

Silas grinned at her, and warmth spread from Amelia’s stammering heart to her cheeks. “If milady wishes, you may address me so.” He encouraged.

Amelia smiled, and the carriage jolted and skidded to a stop. Amelia squealed and grabbed the upholstery to hold herself steady, alarmed at the slew of voices shouting amid the thunder and downpour outside. Sonic’s hand reached for her but hesitated from touching her. “Alright, Amelia?”

“Aye.” Amelia bobbed her head quickly. “What do you think’s happened?”

Sonic’s brow furrowed, a deep frown pointed towards the carriage door, his lithe body coiling tight as a snake. “Hopefully just a bumpy road, milady.” He lightly rested his hand on the sword at his hip, his thumb gingerly stroking the top of the golden circular cross guard. He shifted on the seat, angling himself towards the carriage door and creating a shield between it and Amelia, his hand now curled tight on the blade hilt. The carriage door creaked open. Sonic unsheathed his sword, the silvery blade somehow gleaming in the low light. “Keep behind me, Amelia. I will not let them harm you.” He whispered.

“I am not exactly helpless, Sonic!” Amelia hissed back, her cheeks flushing scarlet indignantly.

“Don’t I know it.” Sonic muttered to himself. Amelia frowned. The carriage door burst open.

“Sonic!” An echidna raised his mittens in surrender, his scarlet fur and bronze armor splattered with mud and soaked with rainwater.

“Chaos, Knuckles!” Sonic exclaimed, shaking his head and sheathing his sword. “You’re lucky I didn’t cleave you in two!”

Knuckles snorted. “I would like to see you try!”

Sonic rolled his eyes. “Perhaps now would not be the time, Knucklehead. What’s happened?”

“The storm has caused a flood in the valley; the carriage will not make it the normal routes, at least not tonight.” Knuckles grimly reported. “We spotted a tavern just a few minutes ride whence we came; it would be safer course if we took shelter for the night and resumed our travels at first light.”

Sonic considered those words and nodded. “Very well then, Knuckles.” The echidna dipped his head to Amelia and shut the carriage door, shouting at the others, and Sonic settled back into his seat as the carriage began moving again.

“Do you know the tavern Knuckles spoke of?” Amelia asked curiously.

Sonic shook his head. “It has been some time since I traveled this direction, milady. I just hope there are enough rooms for our company.”

“Well, if hopes were rings,” Sonic chuckled nervously, scratching a hand through his damp blue quills. Amelia’s cheeks blazed as rosy as her long quills, shifting nervously as she eyed the compact room outfitted with creaky wooden floors, a tiny wooden wardrobe, and one moderate singular bed in the center, outfitted with one singular ratty quilt. Sonic cleared his throat and gestured to the door that led to the washroom. “Ladies first.”

Grateful and flustered, Amelia fled, her decorum preventing her from slamming the door outright in her embarrassment. She covered her face with her hands and whined, practically vibrating with her nerves. This was not how it was meant to happen! She and Sonic may be betrothed and set to marry in a day’s time, certainly, but they weren’t meant to be in such close quarters yet! They should have arrived in Sonic’s villa by now, Amelia should have been formally introduced to his family as his chosen bride, and the preparations for their union were due to begin in the morning! But now, because of poor luck and a terrible monsoon, all that time meant to prepare her for-for intimacy with Sonic was forfeit!

Amelia took a deep breath. “Pull yourself together, Rose.” She muttered to herself. “’Tis only a small delay, and you are to be united with him at sunset tomorrow, what is one night early?” She nodded to herself and discarded her sopping cloak, reaching for a towel…only to find them missing. Lovely. She sighed and opened the door, poking her head out. “Sonic, are there-oh!” Amelia slapped a hand over her mouth, her cheeks now a permanent shade of red…but her traitorous eyes refused to look away.

Sonic faced away from her, his soaked shirt wringing out in his hands, ruffled blue fur glistening with mist in the candlelight. Strong but lithe blue shoulders gave way to thick blue spines glinting and sharp down a nimble back to narrow hips and a pert blue tail, still covered by sopping wet trousers.

Amelia shook herself and slammed the door, flushed and embarrassed and ashamed. What was she to ogle a man like a hound would a scrap of meat? Her mother would have her hide for such! Amelia sighed and shimmied out of her dress, wrapping her arms around herself to ward off the chill. At least her chemise was mostly dry; it would have to do for tonight. She hung her dress and cloak over the tub, then faced the door nervously, biting her lip. She huffed, lifted her chin, and marched out.

Sonic froze when he saw her, his emerald eyes wonderstruck, raking over her before he cleared his throat and refocused on her face with a tinge of pink on his peach muzzle. Amelia wasn’t much better, her gaze locked on the white shirt Sonic bore, the neckline a deep v that showcased the peach fur of his chest and the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, the length barely long enough to cover his thighs. “Y-You take the bed, Amelia.” He gestured. “I’ll take the floor.”

“What? No, Sonic, that is unnecessary.” Amelia protested, stepping forward.

“Amelia-,”

“Sonic, we are to be married in one day.” Amelia crossed her arms. “As unpleasant as these circumstances are, it is what we are contended with. And since you are my husband to be, and we will be sharing a bed permanently by tomorrow, I see no harm in doing so tonight when there is no other reasonable option.”

Sonic’s ears tipped back, and he nodded. “As...as you wish.”

Amelia pulled back the ratty quilt and slid into the bed, wincing at the lumpiness. Sonic dithered at the opposite edge of the bed before quickly climbing in, putting his back to Amelia. She tried to swallow the lump that left in her throat and turned away also. “Goodnight, Sonic.”

“…Goodnight, Amelia.”

Amelia laid there, watching the shadows dance on the wall. “…Sonic?”

“Aye?”

“Thank you…for preparing to defend me in the carriage.”

“…I will always defend you, Amelia. I need no thanks for it.”

Amelia bit her lip and sighed.

“Amelia?”

“Aye?”

“…I…regret that you think the marriage arrangement is unpleasant. If you so wish, we could…negate the contract and I shall escort you home at first light.”

Amelia nearly shot up out of the bed. “What?” Sonic refused to turn over and look at her, but Amelia was no mere damsel, and so grabbed his shoulder and forced him to meet her eyes. “Sonic, why would you assume I think such nonsense? If I thought it unpleasant, I wouldn’t have agreed!” She exclaimed.

Sonic furrowed his brow. “But, just a moment ago, you said-,”

Amelia flopped onto her pillow and groaned. “I meant the unpleasant circumstances of the storm delaying us here and forcing us to share close quarters before either of us were ready, silly man.”

Sonic’s eyes brightened, and a half-smile formed on his peach muzzle. “Oh. I see.”

Amelia snorted and smiled at him. “Do you not know better than to assume what a lady thinks, milord?”

Sonic laughed. Stars appeared in Amelia’s eyes. “I admit, my experience with the female mind is woefully lacking.” Amelia giggled, and the smile that flourished on Sonic’s muzzle fluttered her heart. “You truly are the most beautiful in all Mobius, Amelia.” Sonic whispered reverently, gingerly smoothing an errant pink quill out of her eyes.

Amelia’s cheeks once again matched her name. “Is-Is that why you chose me?” She mumbled. “For my beauty?”

Sonic’s smile turned sad. “I chose you for your heart, Amelia. Your compassion, your grace, your courage, and your strength. After all, it was those things that saved a starving young boy with two apples fifteen years ago.”

“Apples? Oh!” Amelia gasped.

She remembered that day all too clearly. It had been raining then, too, but little six-year-old Amelia hadn’t been bothered, dancing in the downpour with a smile and muddying her fine dress. It was on one of her twirls that she’d spotted him, a tiny blue hoglet in rags, shivering and pale, hiding behind a post…but watching her all the same with inquisitive emerald eyes. Her heart had clenched for him, especially when he whimpered and clutched his belly, and she immediately snatched the first things she found: two bright red apples off a cart just a pace away. Amelia had thrown them to the hoglet and beamed at him when he picked them up despite their landing in the mud; went to throw him more…but had been caught and humiliated by her mother’s scolding. When she turned back to look back and beg her mother to take him home with them...the boy had vanished. Amelia had never seen him again.

Until tonight. “I would have starved if not for you, Amelia.” Sonic whispered, gently stroking her cheek with his thumb. “You inspired me to become the man I am today: the man that protects those that cannot protect themselves, a man that shows compassion to those burdened, lost, and alone, a man that has strived to be worthy of your heart…because since that day, you have had mine.”

“Oh, Sonic,” Amelia threw her arms around Sonic’s neck and buried her face in his chest, her shoulders shaking with sobs even though her heart sang with joy. His arms encircled her, his fingers stroking her quills, his lips whispering words of love in her ear. “We-We need to go to sleep now.” She declared, beaming. “We need to sleep so tomorrow will come and we can be married as soon as possible.” Sonic tipped his head back and laughed. Amelia giggled and pushed him down to snuggle into his chest, her arms tight around him. He pressed a kiss to Amelia’s forehead, closing his eyes with a loving smile. “As you wish.”

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a-d-nox · 1 year ago

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the wardrobe: earth signs

this post applies to your aphrodite, venus, and rising signs. of course, these are only my opinions and everyone is different given degrees, aspects, and house placements. so take what i say with a grain of salt.

paid reading options: astrology menu & cartomancy menu

enjoy my work? help me continue creating by tipping on ko-fi or paypal. your support keeps the magic alive!

taurus (2°, 14°, 26°)

when i think taurus style i think: the mix of dark and light elements, turtlenecks, showing neck, baggie, layering, soft elegance, flowy, oversized, fluffy look, sweats, luxury to disheveled, thrifted, etc.

virgo (6°, 18°)

when i think virgo style i think: dressed warm year round, pantone, simple, structured pieces (i.e. denim in picture one, the compact stark bag in picture two, the turtle neck in picture three, and the high waisted pants in picture four), effortless, natural fabrics, minimal, tucked, classic, retro, grunge, edgy, etc.

capricorn (10°, 22°)

when i think capricorn style i think: tight mixed with loose, branded, structured and silhouetted, no fast-fashion, quality pieces, trench coats, totes, black and white, professional attire, expensive, classy, old money look, basics, modern, etc.

have ideas for new content? please use my “suggest a post topic” button!

return to nox's guide to metaphysics

#astrology #astro community #astro placements #astro chart #asteroid astrology #asteroid #natal chart #astrology tumblr #greek mythology #astrology chart #natal astrology #astrology readings #astro notes #astro observations #astroblr #aphrodite #asteroid1388

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sacrificial-lamb-please · 2 months ago

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Feralist III

An hour after the invasion start hundrets of thousands of small flowers cover the streets and walls, making their way even through closed windows. After few seconds all of them start to speak. "Welcome in Affini compact! Worry about nothing, as all of your worries just came to an end! We domesticated this planet ending the rough rule of capitalism. If you have any questions please ask one of the flowers, or head to the nearest domestication center! Flower know the way!"

I need to move my wardrobe to block the window. I can board up the door using my bed frame. I need to destroy everything with the access to internet too. Goodbye my phone. Goodbye my trusty pc, you've been with me since always. I should have enough food for two weeks. After that. I have a gun. One bullet should be enough.

#floretposting #hdg shitposting #feralist #feralism #hdg posting #hdg #human domestication guide

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souryam · 4 months ago

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Forgot my tablet and got very bored in the middle of a lecture today so I cracked open pinterest and decided to put together a little board of adult Snape's style!

I'm not really going to get super deep into the wizard wear because I don't really have crazy original things to say about his robes. they're black, simple, cover everything but his face and hands and come with a cloak he can take on or off. The one thing I'll say it's that I love him having a more inverted triangle silhouette with it, making him appear larger than he is.. here's a look out of Saint Laurent's Winter 23 that I think illustrate the *vibe* I picture his robes having.. very closed off and imposing but with a flowiness at the same time

some casual inspos... solid color classic pieces, either black, gray, dark blue or white paired with a big coat.. these kind of roll neck bulky sweaters are very him to me as well. bottom far left picture more of a summer outfit to me btw! he was slaying at the Malfoy's Italian estate I can feel it

I don't think he'd have a lot of clothes, most likely a very compact wardrobe, but the clothing he had were very nice and extremely well made, and tailored to fit him precisely after lucius forced him

now about parties and balls.. I think that would be 100% Narcissa's area with commentary from Lucius. Partly because he was there to accompany them, therefore his outfit had to go with theirs somewhat, partly because they like to dress him up in fancy clothes. I believe the style would depend on the people that would go to the gathering. If it was a fully wizarding event, or if there were some muggles or if they were the only wizards in the room the outfit would fluctuate between the two styles. (2 is Prada SS24 and 3 is Alexander McQueen Spring 23)

That's it because tumblr only allows 10 pictures 😭 here's the link to the board if anyone's interested, I'll keep adding t o it :)

https://pin.it/77nIlSyaQ

#severus snape

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bekkarific · 4 months ago

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Playing with Fire

Chapter Seven: Embers

Chapter Masterlist

Pairing: The Frontman/In Ho x Fem OC

Ji Ah woke to the unfamiliar sensation of silk against her skin. For a fleeting moment, she forgot where she was. As her eyes adjusted to the fluorescent light humming above, the dark green walls of her new quarters, the vanity table, and the wardrobe filled with dresses that were nothing like her usual attire—it all came rushing back.

Her stomach churned at the thought of the day ahead.

A sharp knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts.“Number 13,” came the voice of a guard. “Get up. You’re expected to prepare yourself. The VIPs will arrive shortly.”

VIPs. The word carried a weight Ji Ah couldn’t ignore. Who were they? Did they run the games? The monsters funding this horror show? Or just the people reveling in others’ suffering? She ground her teeth as she got out of bed.

The guard didn’t wait for a response. Heavy footsteps echoed as he walked away, leaving her alone with her thoughts.

Ji Ah padded to the wardrobe, her bare feet cold against the floor. She hesitated before opening it, half-hoping the contents would have magically changed overnight.

They hadn’t.

Short black cocktail dresses in various cuts hung in neat rows, each one more revealing than the last. Ji Ah scowled, grabbing the least offensive option—a simple dress that started on her collar bone, but clung to her body like a second skin and ended mid-thigh.

She threw it onto the bed and moved to the vanity, her reflection staring back at her like a stranger. The black mask sat beside the small collection of makeup, its leaf-like edges mocking her. A mask to hide her face, but nothing to hide the shame threatening to consume her.

She grabbed a brush and started to comb her hair out of her face, thankfully the shower she had taken last night had removed the days worth of grime and sweat from her skin and hair. The toiletries provided leaving a subtle floral scent.

Hair secured in a half up half down style, she sat down at her vanity table. The makeup was sparse: a single compact, a small palette of eyeshadow, mascara, and one tube of lipstick—bright red. Ji Ah’s fingers hovered over the lipstick, the color somehow feeling like a cruel joke.

She sighed and began to apply the makeup with steady hands, her training as a detective allowing her to compartmentalize her anger - for the moment anyway. She worked methodically, painting herself into the image of what they expected her to be, a faceless object to decorate their twisted playground.

When she finally slipped on the dress, it clung to her in ways that made her feel exposed, her skin crawling as she zipped it up. The heels were no better, their shiny black surface reflecting the faint light as if mocking her discomfort.

Ji Ah glanced at the mirror one last time, her reflection a jarring mix of the person she used to be and the role she was being forced into. Her jaw clenched as she reached for the black mask, the final piece of her transformation.

As she placed it over her face, the red lipstick she’d just applied became the only splash of color, a stark contrast to the dark mask and dress. It made her feel like a character in someone else’s story, her own identity slipping further away with each passing moment.

A knock interrupted her thoughts. “It’s time,” the guard said.

Ji Ah took a deep breath, steadying herself. Hastily securing her mask at the back of her head.

Whatever lay beyond that door, she had to survive it. With one last glance at the mirror, she straightened her shoulders and stepped into the corridor, ready to face whatever twisted reality awaited her.

———————————————————-

The VIP were somehow everything and nothing like expected. From their ridiculous gold animal masks to their bathrobes, Ji Ah was unsure where to look.

She had been told to stand at the door to the grand lounge, a tray of whisky’s in her hand as greeting. She counted six. So it sparked her confusion when only five VIPs arrived.

They all took a drink, making lude comments at her in English. American’s, she deduced from their accents. Each giving her a look up and down before moving onto her four other colleagues.

She felt powerless, all she could so was smile and thank them. She had to thank those sick bastards.

Turning her attention to her colleagues, she hadn’t had a chance to meet them yet, all five of them had been posted to different parks of the room. Two male and two females from what she could see. She did note that the blonde woman was still here, she may come in useful, Ji Ah reasoned.

Then like she could sense him, he appeared. Every part the cold, calculating, intimidating man she knows. So why does her skin start to heat when he is near?

“Gentlemen welcome, allow me to introduce myself I am the Frontman. The host sends his regrets that he cannot be with you at this time, but I am here to ensure your every comfort is met.” He announced coming to stand in front of the VIPs, back straight and standing to attention.

Ji Ah is bewildered by his sudden subservience, so he wasn’t the top man like she thought he was, there are more? Taking a minute to gather her thoughts as the captain - now frontman - she supposed conversed with the VIPs.

Who was this mysterious host then? And why were they not here?

“It’s no worry” the loud Texan spoke “your girl 13 has been taking good care of us, haven’t you darling” he bolsters, eliciting cheers from the other guests. The Texan leaned forward, his eyes raking over her form in a way that made her skin crawl. “Quite the addition to the staff this year. Very elegant. Exotic, even.”

Ji Ah swallowed the retort that rose in her throat, forcing herself to lower her gaze in what she hoped was an appropriately submissive gesture. She could feel their stares, hungry and dehumanizing, stripping her of whatever dignity she had left.

“Gentleman,” came the Frontman’s voice, cutting through the murky cigar filled air like a blade. “We thank you for your compliments” he spoke, his voice growing closer,

Ji Ah’s back straightened instinctively, her pulse quickening as he came to stand beside her.

“She has a lot to learn,” the Frontman said, his words directed at the room but clearly meant for her as well. “But she’s adaptable.”

Before she could react, she felt the faintest brush of his fingers against the back of her head. Her breath hitched as he adjusted her mask, which had loosened slightly.

“Hold still,” he murmured, his voice low enough that only she could hear.

Ji Ah froze, every nerve ending in her body firing at once. His hands were gloved, yet the sensation felt almost intimate, the deliberate care he took in fixing the mask sending an involuntary shiver down her spine.

“There,” he said after a moment, his hands retreating as quickly as they had come.

But the weight of his presence lingered, his proximity making it impossible for her to breathe easily.

“Now,” he addressed the room, his tone once again sharp and authoritative. “Shall we move on to more pressing matters?”

The VIPs muttered their agreement, the tension dissipating as they returned to their drinks and chatter.

Ji Ah dared a glance at the Frontman as he stepped away, his mask giving nothing away. But something about the way he carried himself—subtle, deliberate—told her the adjustment hadn’t been necessary. It had been a reminder.

Of what, she wasn’t sure.

As the night wore on, Ji Ah remained at her post, her mind racing with questions she couldn’t afford to ask. But one thought stayed with her, clear and unnerving: The Frontman wasn’t just watching her. He was studying her.

——————————

The VIPs' boisterous laughter echoed in the room, accompanied by the clinking of glasses as they placed bets on the next game.

Tug of War, the frontman revealed, eliciting gasps of excitement from the VIP keen to watch the real thing live.

Ji Ah forced herself to remain composed, her posture rigid as she served another drink. The night stretched on, each second heavier than the last.

The Frontman moved among the VIPs with ease, his commanding presence drawing their attention. Yet Ji Ah couldn’t shake the feeling that his attention often drifted back to her. Each glance, no matter how brief, sent a ripple of heat and unease coursing through her.

She was stationed near edge of the room, drink tray in hand, when she felt his presence again—silent, like a shadow. He approached, his movements deliberate, and leaned in just enough for his words to reach her without anyone else overhearing.

“You’re holding up well,” he said softly, his tone devoid of the mockery she’d braced for.

Ji Ah didn’t dare look at him directly. “I didn’t realize I was being tested,” she replied, keeping her voice steady.

“Everything here is a test, Number 13,” he murmured, the faintest hint of amusement threading his words. “You’ll learn that soon enough.” And like that he was gone, melting back into the shadow he came from.

Ji Ah couldn’t shake the feeling of his words, nor the fire that licked up her spine.

————————————————-

The announcement of Tug of War sent a wave of anticipation rippling through the VIPs. Their laughter turned raucous, their voices tinged with sadistic glee as they speculated about the fates of the contestants.

Ji Ah’s grip on her tray tightened. She forced her features to remain neutral, though the bile rising in her throat threatened to betray her. Each time a VIP's hand brushed against her as they grabbed a drink, she felt her dignity crumble further. But it was the Frontman’s cryptic words that lingered, needling at her composure.

Everything here is a test.

Her eyes flicked to the screen dominating the far wall, displaying the setup for the next game. Two towering platforms, a single rope spanning the chasm between them, and the gaping void below. Even from the safety of the VIP lounge, the scene was suffocating.

“Frontman!” the Texan drawled, gesturing with his glass. “How about you give us a little insider scoop? Any early favorites in this round?”

The Frontman inclined his head with practiced detachment. “The games are designed to level the playing field. Strength alone will not ensure victory.”

The Texan grinned, his gold mask glinting under the lights. “Smart and mysterious. I like it.”

Ji Ah’s stomach churned as the VIPs laughed again, their focus shifting to their tablets to place bets. The contestants’ faces flashed on the screen, each one a portrait of dread and desperation.

Her chest tightened when she spotted Gi Hun among them, standing with his makeshift team. He was speaking urgently, gesturing animatedly as he tried to rally their spirits. Ji Ah couldn’t hear his words, but she recognized the determination in his eyes.

“Care to place a bet, Number 13?” The Texan asked, placing a hand on her arm.

Swallowing down her disgust “I’ll pass” she said evenly, tilting the tray to offer him a drink instead.

He didn’t take one. Turning back to his tablet

As she turned to walk away she heard “Wise. The house always wins.” The voice startled her, low and smooth, and far too close. Ji Ah turned her head slightly, finding the Frontman once again at her side.

Their gazes met briefly, his mask a barrier that only amplified the weight of his presence. Ji Ah felt her pulse quicken, a mix of defiance and unease swirling within her.

“Enjoy the show,” he added, his voice low enough that the words felt almost private. And just as before, he was gone, his attention now on the VIPs clamoring for details about the contestants.

The contestants took their places, their terror palpable even through the screen.

Ji Ah’s breath caught as the countdown began, her focus entirely on Gi Hun, part of her wondered if her presence her was a blessing or curse for him. He stood at the front of the line, his grip firm on the rope.

“Five... four...”

“Bet on the older guy,” one VIP slurred, leaning close to the screen. “He looks like he’s got a trick or two up his sleeve.”

Ji Ah clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms.

“Three... two...”

The room erupted with cheers and jeers as the buzzer blared, signaling the start.

The two teams pulled with everything they had, the rope creaking under the strain. Onscreen, Ji Ah could see Gi Hun shouting instructions, his voice lost amidst the chaos but his determination unwavering.

“Ah, look at them!” the Texan crowed. “Nothing like a good old-fashioned fight for survival!”

Ji Ah wanted to scream, to tear the drink tray from her hands and hurl it across the room. Instead, she kept her mask of indifference firmly in place, her eyes locked on the screen.

As the game unfolded, the struggle intensified. Gi Hun’s team began to falter, their opponents gaining ground with brute strength. But then the other man - Cho Sang Woo she learned from the bets -barked an order, and the team shifted tactics.

“They’re running forward” one VIP exclaimed. “Clever bastards!”

Ji Ah’s chest tightened as the team regained ground, their coordination throwing the opposing side into disarray. Her heart pounded with every pull, her silent prayers echoing louder in her mind.

When the opposing team finally lost their footing, the arena fell silent for a fraction of a second before the inevitable screams began. Ji Ah turned her head away from the screen as the rope was cut, sending the losing team plummeting into the void.

The VIPs erupted into applause, their cheers a grotesque celebration of death. “Damn fine game!” the Texan bellowed, raising his glass. “Frontman, your games never disappoint!”

The Frontman inclined his head in acknowledgment, but Ji Ah caught the briefest pause in his movements.

“Bring us another round, Number 13,” the Texan called out, his grin wide and unrepentant.

Ji Ah nodded stiffly, her hands trembling as she moved to refill their drinks. She couldn’t look at the screen again, couldn’t bear to see the hollow expressions of those who had survived—or worse, the faces of those who hadn’t.

Everything here is a test.

As she handed the Texan his glass, she felt the Frontman’s gaze on her once more, unrelenting and inscrutable. And in that moment, Ji Ah wondered if she had passed.

#squid games #hwang jun ho #seong gi hun #gi hun #the frontman #hwang in ho #hwang inho #jun ho #in Ho x oc #Hwang Inho x oc #Inho/oc #in ho/oc #Hwang Inho/oc #the frontman/oc #frontman/oc #frontman x oc #squid game x oc

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