#I will post fun pictures of my house and farm and things after things settle down and decorations and stuff aren't so spoilery

[rainbowbarnacle]

[polyklok]

Nathan Explosion full Alphabets

Pickles

Skwisgaar

Toki

Murderface

If you’re unaware, I did an headcanon request thing using these two alphabets

It got a bit more popular than I expected and my askbox got flooded. I loved doing it! But I ended up cramming a lot in a short amount of time, so I’m just gonna finish off the alphabets for every Dethklok member. It might take awhile. If you’re getting impatient waiting to see what I said about your favorite boy, you can look up the tag “Polyklok is real” to find all my posts including the previous headcanon requests.

Anywho-

Fluff

A for Affection-

Slightly more affectionate than you’d expect! Nathan isn’t one to show a lot of emotions or vulnerability at first. There's a good chance that you're just a fun piece of eye candy to him. He might have an arm around you when in public, but things like cuddling are reserved for after sex and after sex only.

As he starts to open up, he becomes more and more addicted to your soft touches and gentle holds. He leans into you whenever you are vaguely close to him, nuzzling his face into your neck and letting his hands settle on your hips or waist. Soon, it becomes mandatory for him to be attached to you whenever you're in the same room. Especially whilst cuddling, he is not letting go. Will carry you to the bathroom if needed, just to continue feeling your warmth.

B for Best friend-

It’s sort of stressful. Not because of Nathan specifically, but because it’s fucking Dethklok. You’re going to need to live a very private life when you’re associated with them, unless you want to be stalked and harassed daily by overly-obsessive fans. And that’s if you can even get any of them to engage with you in the first place, which is a task within itself.

IF you somehow manage to pull off the impossible, Nathan is a pretty silly dude. If he already likes you, it’s fairly easy to make him relax and laugh with you. Most of the time, the two of you will be drinking and making fun of dumb stuff until early in the morning. But he’s never gonna really open up to you. If you try to get into his personal life or mental health, he’s just gonna straight up cut you off permanently. You’re luckily you weren’t killed by Klokateers.

C for Cuddles-

Once he's settled into the relationship and comes to terms about his more unbrutal feelings for you, he quickly becomes comfortable with regular, sappy couples things like cuddling. Very comfortable.

You know those dogs who are big but think they are small? He's kinda like that. If you're lucky, he'll scoop you up first and hold you against him. If you're unlucky, he's too tired to think of such a gesture and will straight up collapse on you. While 'Death by Nathan Explosion' may seem good in theory, the truth is that you have to stick around for him, which means you can't come to peace with suffocating in his phat tits. I'm sorry. If he does lay on top of you, it's gonna have to be across your legs while you scratch his scalp; his favorite way to cuddle BTW.

D for Domestic-

Nathan is a little complicated.

On one hand, he grew up among perfect domesticity. A nice, middle-class suburban neighborhood with a hardworking Dad and a stay-at-home Mom who loved each other and him very much. He often helped his Mom with chores around the house, went fishing and hunting with his Dad, even spent time on the farm with his grandpa. Everyone was happy and life was simple. Even today, when Nathan pictures the 'perfect lifestyle', he imagines a friendly community and being a part of a couple as loving as his parents are.

But then again, he wasn't ‘happy’. He despised the white-picket fences, and gossipy neighbors, and (gag) public school. He spent his early life trying to get as far away from that as possible. He lives to buy stupidly expensive shit, destroy it in the most violent way possible, fill his nights with drugs and booze, tour around the world singing about death and destruction, be worshipped by hundreds of hot girls only to watch their faces fall as he returns to you, and then have you screaming in his bed before the sun rises. Nathan wants chaos.

Eventually, you'll find balance. He realizes he create his own version of the American dream, with you by his side as his perfect partner, his equal. He'll still be apart of Dethklok, still live in Mordhaus, still write the most disgustingly graphic songs you can think of. But he now lives day-to-day craving his morning kiss, setting aside time to have a lunch date with you, sharing a few beers rather than getting shitfaced. Nathan learns to settle down in a way that makes both sides of him happy.

E for Ending-

Aw man :/

If it’s early in the relationship, he just straight up ghosts you. He feels bad for doing it but he’s too much of a coward to do anything else. It’s probably because he realized he didn’t like you that much, you couldn’t keep up with his lifestyle, or he was simply being a horny bastard and pining after others. I love him, but he’s still a rich, sheltered douchebag.

If it’s later on…he has a really hard time coming to terms. It’s gonna have to be a mutual decision, otherwise your both gonna be stuck in a miserable relationship. Maybe he realizes that his lifestyle is unfit for long term relationships, maybe you realize that you don’t suit him as well as you used to. He’s gonna make his explanation, hear out yours, hug you goodbye, and even provide some money to help you get by. But he’s not gonna talk to you again. His heart is too tender for that.

Potentially, if you really did mean a lot to him and changed him in ways he’s now grateful for, he’ll write a brutal song for you with secretly sappy and thankful lyrics. Then you get the satisfaction of knowing that you left on the best possible terms.

F for Fiancé-

For a long time, Nathan didn’t think he ever wanted to get married. It’s just didn’t fit his image. The idea of Nathan Explosion ever being a part of a celebration for holy matrimony? No way.

But when you started to sneak your way into his heart, marriage suddenly seemed like a wonderful possibility rather than a stupid consequence of the world. He tried to fight against it, which only made the urge worse. A pair of sparkling rings, wedding bells, flowers, you in absolutely beautiful outfit- all kept haunting his mind until it felt like he was going mad. He seriously considered dropping to one knee every time you smiled or laughed.

One day, you’re randomly swooped off to Georgia, on the ranch which is parents moved after Florida went to shit due to his political pursuit (we don’t talk about that). It’s the first time you formally meet them both but they’re already so glad to meet you; Nathan has said a lot over the phone and they know you make him happy. One night, during the visit, Nathan goes outside with his father, just the two of them. He asks his Dad when he knew he wanted to marry his Mom. They have a long talk about commitment, patience, love and life. That’s when he makes up his mind.

He proposes a week later and only cries a little when you say yes.

G for Gentle-

Nathan is huge. I don’t care how tall or wide you are, he’s bigger. And as much as he loves the size difference, his brain doesn’t really register that fact fully. He’ll squeeze with realizing he’s crushing you, wrap himself around you until you overheat, and occasionally fully consume you in his cuddles, as I’ve said before. It’s rare that he actually hurts you, it’s more annoying than anything. Just mention it and he’ll let up immediately with a small “Sorry.”

It’s similar in the emotional department. He's very blunt and, while he means well, it can cause some hiccups in your communication. He's never malicious but he often forgets to filter himself or add cushioning to his words, which might caused some hurt feelings. If it's a heated moment, he'll straight up walk away to give himself some time to breathe, think, reevaluate, and then go apologize to you so a solution can be figured out.

H for Hugs-

For a while, you thought Nathan hated hugs. And he sort of did. He never initiated them. He saw a full-body, front-facing hug as a way to greet his parents and...not much else. He also thought having to ask for a hug was embarrassing. Early on, if he's feeling touchy, he'll settle for groping at or leaning into you.

But he came around very quickly as soon as you fully embraced him. Just 30 seconds of your arms completely wrapped around him has him addicted and now he initiates them whenever you have a few passing minutes of free time. Still doesn’t like asking for them, though, he just does it and it’ll sometimes scares you.

I for I Love You-

If you say it to him, he’ll do the whole “I mrgghmrhyou too” thing. It’s gonna be a while until he completes the sentence, he’s stubborn. He’s knows he loves you and he knows that you know that he loves you but the words just seem so big, too big for him to say out loud.

But they’re not too big for Drunk Nathan! You’re helping him into bed after he’s had a long night filled with booze, swatting away his wandering hands from your body. You tug away his boots and jeans so he’s not too uncomfortable while he sleeps. “Thanks babe,” He mutters, head buried in a pillow, “I love you. So fucking much.” You pause, surprised grin spreading across your face as he promptly rolls over and falls asleep.

With time, the words will come out more and more clearly until he’s giving the casual “Love you.” Every morning and night, not even thinking much of it. But you’ll always remember the first time he said it to you, even if he doesn’t.

J for Jealousy-

He thinks jealousy is such an ugly look. He’s had girlfriends like that, obsessed with him and surveilling every single thing he does. It was awful. And he doesn’t want to be like that, especially not to you! So he tries; he really tries to be cool and levelheaded and to trust you completely. And he does trust you!

But he does not trust a room full of douchebags who think it’s alright to try and talk up his S/O! His chest burns with anger every time a creep stares you down or blatantly flirts. In public, he’ll stand right behind you and watch the entire room over your shoulder with the deadliest glare on his face. He totally fails at trying to be subtle about it. He can’t stand the thought that other people are having the same thoughts that he does about you. If you call him out on his jealousy, he’ll grumble and look away with an embarrassed blush.

Once you get home from some sort of social event, one where too many eyes happened to be staring at your body, he attached to you. He’s groping at and leaning into you, trying to consume you in his touch just to remind you that you’re his.

K for Kisses-

His kissing? Pretty good. He’s a bit rough, but he’s definitely not a bad kisser, especially if you’re into getting rough. He likes to keep his hands busy on your body when he kisses you and he groans against your lips if you ever start to mess with his hair. Very good experience.

He can make you go dizzy with a deep kiss or leave you quivering from a make out session without even blinking. What drives him crazy are soft, quick, passing kisses that you plant on him. A peck on his lips, face, or anywhere else will leave him blushing like a madman. He has no idea how something so simple makes him so flustered but he enjoys the feeling of butterflies in his stomach, wants you to do it more and more! He never gets sick of your small kisses.

L for Little Ones-

In the small community in Florida he grew up in, everyone knew everyone, which meant that all his stuck-up, judgmental neighbors knew how weird he was. Even though his parents were always supportive of him, that didn't stop fucking Cathy from down the street riding his ass at every block party. To avoid all the stupid questions and potentially beating up old people, he settled to hang out with all the kids during social gatherings. They were fascinated by his huge figure, alternative style, and gravely voice. He'd often find himself wrestling off tons of giggling toddlers, all with a huge smile on his face from the playfulness. This was a long way to say he's great with kids.

Kid's bring out Nathan's silly side. He's willing to drop his ego and act a little dumb just to make sure they have a good time; He'll roughhouse or play pretend or take a conversation about fictional dinosaur characters very seriously. It's honestly so adorable to see. As for having children? The thought scares him, he could name millions of protentional disasters just from the concept. But, if it's a serious want of yours, he'll consider it.

M for Morning-

Nathan thrives off of routine. He wakes up around noon and will not start his day off until he gets a morning kiss from you. He will sit in bed and pout until you finally peck his lips with a “Good Morning”.

After that, it’s pretty simple. At some in the relationship, the two of you have grown accustomed to each other’s procedures and habits, so you do practically everything in-sync. Most of the time, while getting ready, there’s a pleasant conversation that Nathan has grown to look forward to. Sometimes it discussing the day’s plans, sometimes it’s swapping the dreams had last night, or sometimes it’s just you reprimanding him for leaving such obvious bruises on your neck. No matter what, he’s happy he gets at least some time with you in his very busy schedule.

Despite what you might think, Nathan prefers to snack over the day than to have a large breakfast/lunch. Whether you follow suit or not, there will be some point where the two of you part ways so get can get work done, usually a meeting or early band practice. But before you go off to do your own thing, he always takes a moment to look into you eyes and share a small “Love You.”

N for Night-

Nathan stays up late. He’s a total night owl, always has been. In some cases, he’ll be partying and drinking his weight in booze. But most nights, he just wants to get work done, usually writing lyrics. Either way, he insists you go to bed before him and he’ll join you later. If he has been partying extra hard, it’s up to you that he actually makes it to bed. That’s if he goes to bed at all; he definitely pulls a few all-nighters every now and then.

At around 12-3 AM, you’ll wake up to the bed shifting and groaning under his weight. He’s stripped down to his boxers, he smells of either beer or chips, and he’s shushing you to stay asleep. He doesn’t mean to wake you up almost every night, but it’s sort of inevitable. Either way, he’ll kiss your forehead and gladly accept it when you eventually come crawling into his side.

O for Open-

At the beginning, it is absolutely minimal. It’s almost sad how little he’s willing to open up to you. Anytime the two of you talk, his answers are gonna be almost complete one-worded. Every date you go on a date, it’s exclusively for press and/or so he can get his dick wet afterwards. He truly believes that you’re only interested in him for his fame. He’s not mad about it, but he’s accepted it as the truth, so he doesn’t bother putting in any effort to actually engage with you.

But, over time, his heart will soften up and he realizes that-holy shit-he actually likes you and wants to be genuine with you. It starts out slow, like actually telling you about his day rather than just saying “Fine” or asking you questions about the side of your life that doesn’t revolve around him. He grows into admitting he cares about you or letting you in on band-business that’s supposed to be private. You can tell he fully trusts you when he’s willing to break down, let you comfort him while he cries, confess his weaknesses and allow you hear them because he knows that you won’t leave him for them. Then, and only then, does he realize how much he values you.

P for Patience-

It’s no secret that Nathan is a bit of a brat, or at the very least, a diva. It’s nowhere to the extent of his other bandmates (cough cough Skwisgaar) but he can certainly be picky or, yes, impatient at times. When it comes to small, inconvenient things, his anger is quick to spark up. It’s more so frustration than anything else, but he is still very clearly pissed off when something isn’t going how he wanted it to.

With you? He tries so hard to be levelheaded and cool. He’s willing to talk about it and work out solutions. But he has a tendency to just simmer in his own exasperation, especially when it’s something that has to just be dealt with rather than solved. A lot of the time, if he finds himself growing with anger, he will straight up walk away. It may seem disrespectful to you, but he’s just trying to keep himself from yelling or saying something stupid. He cannot lose you to an argument like that. Once he’s cooled down, he’ll return, apologize, and reaffirms that you’re okay with whatever is going on. Nathan really does want what’s best for you, no matter how angry he’s feeling in the moment.

Q for Quizzes-

Nathan wants to remember everything! He tries so hard to keep track of every little thing you say or do just because you’re so precious to him! But, more often than not, his brain will betray him and he’ll draw a blank when trying to decipher things about you. It’s not just you, he doesn’t have the most reliable memory in general. But he feels like such a bad boyfriend for not knowing things that should be obvious, like your birthday or favorite food.

At some point, he starts writing things down in his notebook. The very same notebook that holds reminders, inspiration, and lyrics for Dethklok songs. Every time you make a small comment that might be useful to him later, he quickly jots it down. It’s a little funny, right next to song titles like “Burn The Earth” and “Guts Punch Balls Throw-Up” he has little notes like “Favorite Flavor is strawberry :)”

BTW, you’re never allowed to see the notebook because you might also see notes such as “Looked super pretty this Sunday, made me happy” and how embarrassing would that be?

R for Remember-

It was such a quiet day. Nothing particularly exciting was happening, nothing particularly awful, either. He had spent hours sorting through paperwork, his brain still hurting with legal terms and signatures. Now, it was late afternoon, and the two of you were spending time on the couch.

By “spending time”, I mean he was writing lyrics, you were reading a book, and a large plate of French fries sat in the middle. Everything was so still. Occasionally you’d flip the page and grab a fry or he’d grumble and scribble something down. But besides that, perfect tranquility.

Until you decided you needed a drink. You left the room for a second, only a second, to grab a water or soda or beer. You just…got up and left. Like a normal person. But immediately, as soon as you were out of his presence, Nathan felt unnerved. The entire balance of the room shifted without you on a couch cushion beside him. He stared, dumbfounded, at the doorway as though you had abandoned him. He just missed you so much.

Less than three minutes later, you were back, with a drink in either hand. You place one by him, kissed his cheek in a way that made his heart flutter, and returned to your spot as though nothing had happened. Technically, nothing had happened, but those less-than-three-minutes had struck Nathan as so wrong, that when you returned, he was so, so internally grateful to have you there with him.

It was in that moment that Nathan realized how much he loved you, how important you were to him, how he couldn’t stand to be without you for a second. Even if the evening continued without him saying a word.

S for Security-

Yes, very much so.

Nathan fully believes that you’re “brutal as hell” and fully capable with handling whatever life throws at you. It’s one of the reasons he loves you! But he still acts so protective of you, he thinks that’s how a ‘good boyfriend’ should act (raised on traditional values and all). It’s adorable, how he insists on being your guard dog in public or carrying stuff you could’ve gotten yourself. It’s his own form of chivalry.

However, in a situation where your life is genuinely at stake, he freaks the fuck out. Adrenalin kicks in, he hyper-focuses on getting you out of there, even over his own safety. Remember when he saved Toki whilst Mordhaus was burning down? He’s not even blinking until he knows your secure, preferably in his arms. Afterwards, he’s pressed into you, rocking back and forth, sobbing that he could’ve lost you. He never wants to feel that way again.

If you were to protect him, potentially from rapid fans, he…Well, Nathan finds it hot. I’ll get more info this later, but Nathan thinks aggression is a very good look on you. He obviously wants to keep you out of harm’s way, but he might just let you yell for a little bit just to enjoy the image.

T for Try-

Early in the relationship, he goes all-out with expensive gifts, extravagant dates, and big gestures. Unfortunately, it’s not necessarily because he’s trying super hard, but he thinks it’s what will keep you happy. Again, in his mind, you’re only dating Nathan Explosion for the clout and/or money, so he’s gonna give it to you.

Eventually, he learns to be more personal with you. At that point, he tries so damn hard, not at making his romantic pursuits as bold, but more so at making them perfect for you. All your dates are planned so that you have the best time you could possibly have. The gifts become symbolic and personalized in a way only the two of you understand. His gestures become slightly more private, pleasing you rather than impressing those around you. He’s slightly embarrassed at his own sappiness but seeing the glow in your eyes is so worth it.

Day to day is about the same. Nathan has put in a lot of effort making sure that the two of you have a shared schedule that works and he’s super proud of it, having the comfort of you every single day.

U for Ugly-

As I said earlier, the first ‘phase’ of your relationship with Nathan is going to be difficult. He doesn’t trust you, he’s completely unwilling to share any details he deems “personal” which is most of them, and he really only dates you to say he’s dating someone and to show you off to the paparazzi. It’s…pretty pathetic. You’re gonna need to be tough in order to fight your way through to Nathan’s heart.

Even then, he has a streak of untrustworthiness. Not necessarily from you, but his jealously and clinginess can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. Not as bad as some other members though…

He’s incredibly stubborn. We’ve seen how picky he is with Dethklok’s music and that bleeds into other aspects of his life. He doesn’t enjoy sudden changes to his routine or unexpected events. He tries to be open-minded, but arguments might spark up if he’s feeling particularly hard-headed that day. Although, you are the only person he truly trusts an opinion from.

V for Vanity-

Most of the time, Nathan doesn’t really care. He likes to keep his appearance at least a bit brutal at all times, for sake of his image. His clothing is never too expensive or of high-quality. If he finds something that he likes, he buys multiples of it so he can wear it again. I’m also convinced that he dyes his hair because there’s no way it’s that black (look at his parents!). Outside of that, he’s not too concerned with how he looks.

Until he is. Every now and then, Nathan will get depressive mood for a bit and really start hating in his own appearance. He’s not in his peak physical form anymore; he’s fat and aging in a way that’s not super graceful. Online criticism of his every feature doesn’t help either. Which is why he really appreciates it when you start to love up on him, kissing random places and telling him how much you adore his body. He’ll mumble and look away and try to push you off a little bit, but his cheeks are heating up and his brain is tingling with all sorts of good feelings. Nathan loves being doted on.

W for Whole-

Like I said, Nathan likes routine. When you’re suddenly pulled out of the equation, his whole day is set off and he gets all moody until you come back. He doesn’t need to constantly be with you but he once he’s assimilated to your presence, he doesn’t ever want you to leave. At some point, deep in the relationship, you become an aspect of life to Nathan and he can’t even imagine trying to live without you.

So yes, in a sense, he’d be incomplete without you.

X for Xtra-

Even when he realizes that his relationship with you means much more than he originally realized, he still loves showing you off to cameras or at parties. With his arm around you, both wearing gorgeous outfits, he loves to show the entire world just how beautiful his S/O is and wants the world all to sob about it!

Before, pictures with his girlfriends used to be stiff and awkward. He just stood there, holding her hand maybe, whilst she posed for the camera. Now, he’s completely different. He’s wrapped around you, nuzzling into you, even smiling! The media goes crazy when he first does this with you; this is a side of him never shown to the public. It’s passionate, it’s tender, it’s so off-brand for Nathan Explosion! But he doesn’t care. He seriously gets off on the fact that you’re the only one that can make him feel this way and the only one he’ll act this way for.

Y for Yuck-

Lying. Nathan is already so guarded, so knowing that you are lying-for whatever reason- to him just cuts so deep and forgiving you will be a piece of work, if he decides to at all. Even if it’s something unpleasant, he just wishes you would talk to him and the two of you could work it out together.

After the whole “Rebecca’ incident, he can’t stand an S/O that’s too pushy or controlling of him. Who would’ve guessed, manipulating and bullying someone you’re supposed to be in a relationship with is not okay?! If you start off like this, he’s backing out immediately and probably calling you a bitch in the process. If you become worse over the course of the relationship, he might already be too far in love to realize how awful you’re being, so it’s usually his band members who are going to be calling you out on your bullshit. And there’s only a 50% chance you make it out of that alive soooooooooo….

Z for Zzz-

Nathan becomes a fucking wall when he sleeps. He’s on his back, he’s perfectly still, he’s gently snoring, and nuclear bomb couldn’t wake him up; you couldn’t even push him over you you tried. He likes to have you tucked under his arm when he gets into bed, but after he’s asleep, you could sleep directly on top of him for all he cares, he still won’t wake up. Probably would be super easy to suffocate.

Every now and then, you’ll wake up to him yelling his lungs out. Nathan is regularly frequented by prophecies nightmares and his reaction to them is not to thrash around or scream, but to just do the loudest, longest metal-growl you’ve ever heard. It’s terrifying to wake up to. Over time you’ll get used to it and begin to comfort him, usually by petting his hair and shushing him. He’s still half-asleep, so it’s not long before his eyes flutter shut once again. It becomes routine at one point.

Alright! And that’s fluff. Below there will be SMUT, including references to kink and BDSM. If you’re are sensitive to things that don’t qualify under “vanilla” sex, then this not for you babe.

A for Aftercare-

You are going to need it, babe. Nathan is prone to absolutely destroying you in the bedroom. Afterwards, though, he’s quite sweet (even if he won’t admit it). He likes to cuddle, soothing your aches and pains, kissing and fondling you gently. He’s vulnerable in this moments, exhausted from plowing you and soaking in his sentimental feelings for you. He keeps speaking to a minimum, sorry if you are into pillow talk. But he much rather care for you with actions rather than words.

If he’s feeling particularly romantic, he’ll get some Klokateers to start up a bath, completed with bubbles and scented oils. He knows it’s cheesy, but he really does have a soft spot for things like that, plus he gets an excuse to hold your naked body even longer.

B for Body Part-

He’s obsessed with you chest, no matter your gender or size. Groping with his large hands, running his fingers over your nipples to watch them perk up, leaving hickies all over. If you have boobs (or just large pecs) he loves watching them bounce while you fuck, his eyes are glued. If not, he still toys with your nipples, grinning as you whimper from the sensation. Nathan just loves your chest.

On himself; he has some lingering body issues, so he really doesn’t think to much about what he’s got going on during sex. That being said…he’s pretty proud of his dick. I’ll talk about it more during letter X but, oh lord, his cock is impressive. Nathan got some blessed genes in that department.

C for Cum-

Nathan comes in long, thick streams. He makes these beautiful grunting noises, hips thrusting forward and fists clenching onto whatever they can grab like your throat. He might just mutter some words about how filthy you are or how you drive him absolutely crazy as his cock twitches out his orgasm. As you might’ve guess, his favorite place to cum is on your chest, with you looking up at him like the god he is. Bonus points if you lick it up, he’ll get hard all over again.

D for Dirty Secret-

Obviously, like any good boyfriend, Nathan doesn’t like seeing you upset! He wants you to be happy, he wants life to be easy and good! But, whether directed at him or someone else, Nathan can’t help getting way too fucking horny when he sees you seething with anger!

When you’re voice starts getting a bit louder than necessary, you roll your eyes and furrow your brows, you throw your hands around with frustration…he is struggling to hide his boner. Something about it just makes you seem powerful and sexy to him and he feels so bad for not taking you seriously in the moment but he’s already flooded with dirty thoughts.

He would probably rather die than admit this to you, but there’s a good chance you figure it out on your own terms. If so, he will be very on board when you act just a little mean in the bedroom; pulling his hair and bossing him around, maybe even scolding him for being so turned on by your anger. Despite your love for each other, you can least pretend to be having awesome hate sex.

E for Experience-

It’s nothing to sneeze at. I imagine Nathan lost his virginity at some point in high school before he dropped out and it only went up from there. I mean…he’s a massive celebrity. He pretty much has access to all the sex he could ever want. The tricky part is catering to your needs. Before, Nathan was a bit of a selfish lover. Not awful but not super mindful about what the groupies he was banging were into. Once he’s dedicated himself to you, he realizes that really good sex requires communication. With some time and a few slightly awkward conversations, he’ll have mastered everything you could ever desire from him and it is worth it for the both of you. Nathan Explosion can fuck.

F for Favorite Position-

Including visuals from google

“Pirate’s Bounty”

I’ll start by saying that Nathan isn’t super picky. He’s obviously not very flexible, so anything that requires some impressive stretches from him is off the table. Outside of that, he’s game. You could be face down, on top, spread out, etc. He’s happy as long as his dick is buried in you, honestly.

That being said, this is a comfortable favorite he often resorts to. It lets him see all his favorite parts of you, grab and grope whatever his hands can reach, and look you in the eyes while he degrades the hell out of you. Nathan plows away, groaning about what a slut you are as one hand holds your leg against his torso and the other squeezes your throat. There’s also a good chance you’ll have your hands tied up to the headboard while he goes at it…Ugh I’m a simp

G for Goofy-

Absolutely not.

When he’s in the zone, Nathan pretty much loses all of his humor. Sex is very serious to him, in the same way alcohol is I think, “It’s sacred.” And once he’s with you, there’s an added layer of intimacy. So, no, Nathan isn’t really going to be cracking any jokes or even acknowledging the funny circumstances that inevitably happen. He’s too caught up in, well, destroying you.

If you happen to make a joke… yikes. He is very unimpressed. He’ll probably just ignore it. If you persist, Nathan will either make you cum so hard you forget your name, let alone a joke to make. Or, he’s gonna torture the fuck out of you until your apologize and beg for his mercy. It’s a good time either way. But don’t do it again, he really will get annoyed with you.

H for Hair-

He has a deep, deep secret that he has been carrying with him ever since he started getting an allowance as a kid. He has gone through ridiculous measures to ensure that this is not exposed to the public. Nathan Explosion…Dyes his hair. Oh, the horror! Seriously though, he has routinely dyed his roots black twice and month since he was, like, 10. Naturally, mousy brown color, similar to his Mom’s.

And as soon as he started actively messing around, Nathan even dyed his pubes as well. He doesn’t shave himself completely bare, usually just trims it down to stay out of the way. I’ve heard that balls can be difficult to shave and he doesn’t strike me as the type of guy to bother. And, yes, dyed it the same black as his hair, just so groupies wouldn’t go and spread the word. Eventually, with you, he stops caring so much about downstairs and lets it grow into its natural color. It’s honestly sort of cute and he gets a bit flustered when you point it out.

I for Intimacy-

Nathan really thought that romantic, passionate sex was only for basic dildo jack-offs and that he would never, ever be so vulnerable with someone. Nathan was an idiot. Once you are in the picture, he suddenly craves to fuck you in a way that is so beautiful and emotional. He wants more than just brutality and he’s not really sure how to handle it in a way that won’t make him seem too soft (he is so, so soft for you).

After some internet research and building up his courage, Nathan takes you out on a date. And it’s perfect. Dinner and a walk and stargazing, just the two of you. Part of him feels stupid, silly for indulging in something so cliche. But that part dies completely when he sees how enchanted you are by his efforts. Its a milestone in your relationship, because the whole night is filled with him getting sentimental with you, completely focused on the time you’re spending together. He’s overwhelmed with all the love he feels for you and, for maybe the first time in his relationships, he’s completely sure that you feel the same for him. It’s a wonderful realization.

When you finally get home, you’re met with rose petals and candles and music. Nathan is slow, squeezing your body like he’ll never let go, drinking in your image and your touch, telling you how perfect you are the entire time. It’s even better when you reciprocate it all back, caught up in each other, tangled within all sorts of amazing sensations. He even starts getting teary-eyed when he finally fills you up. He loves you so much.

After that night, the two of you still have sex that is rough and/or casual fairly often. But he always makes sure to set aside time every now and then to truly make love to you. When he chooses to be, Nathan can be extremely intimate and romantic with you.

J for Jack Off-

Nathan masturbates fairly often, even when you’re available for sex. Not that he’s not interested in you, he’s just rubbing one out so he can pursue more important things at the moment and blow off some steam, thought he won’t reject a blowjob.

Most likely he’ll be stumped with a particular song or going through some writer’s block same lmao. He’s frustrated, wracking his brain for rhymes that just don’t seem to exist, let alone fit the song he’s writing. He can’t tell if he can’t focus because he’s hard or hard because he can’t focus. Either way, his pants are straining and it’s getting difficult to ignore. A while ago, he might’ve pulled up some porn or even one of his old magazines, but he’s now think of you as he undoes his belt.

How gorgeous you looked for him a few nights ago, tears falling down your cheeks and legs shivering as he ruthlessly fucked you into, abusing your body in the most pleasurable way possible. He groans, tugging at his cock, eyes closed and wishing you were there with him now. Nothing made him cum harder that your touch.

When he’s finished, he makes a quick job of cleaning up and pulls back into his pants like nothing happened, feeling a new sense of lightness on his shoulders. Until he makes the unfortunate realization that he has to go back to working.

K for Kink-

Nathan is very, very kinky. He’s a huge fan of all things BDSM and Dom/Sub dynamics.

Knife and blood play, bondage, wax play, hair pulling, gagging, choking, edging, overstimulation, impact play, degradation, and even consensual non-con (which delves into roleplay as well).

He doesn’t even mind to be on the receiving end either, although he’s much more used to being in control. Hope you’re ready for that.

L for Location-

His bedroom. Yeah, he’s boring. Not even necessarily on the bed, but Nathan enjoys a secluded space for the two of you. If it’s at a point where you haven’t moved in, then your bedroom also works I guess.

But that’s lame so, scenario #2-

Nathan would love to fuck you as close to the ocean as possible. On the beach, on a boat, I would say a submarine but those are kinda controversial rn. He feels a deep connection to the ocean, although he can’t fully understand why. So having you there feels far more vulnerable to him than it should and he likes the intensity of it, even if you can’t feel it.

M for Motivation-

As I said earlier, seeing you get mad really does it for him. That’s what gets him the most riled up, even if he’s a tad ashamed of it.

He also loves massages. Nathan is a big dude who is constantly head banging and doesn’t have the best posture. He fucking melts when you rub his neck and shoulders and gets really excited to pay you back with some slow, hard fucking. The relief of you easing out his muscles just has him addicted.

Any revealing clothes, but particularly a low-cut shirt, especially if you happen to bend over and give him the perfect view; Nathan is drooling.

N for NO-

This goes with his ‘honesty’ thing, but Nathan hates when you fake it. He can tell instantly when you’re moans are being exaggerated, when you’re not really into something he’s doing, or if you try to fake an orgasm and it pisses him off. In your early relationship, he might begrudgingly ignore it just to get it over with. But later on, he finds it inexcusable and practically begs you to just tell him when you don’t like something. He’s a quick learner too, he’ll improve his technique and have you screaming in no time!

O for Oral-

Going DownKlok changed the history of everything forever in time.

For a while, there were very few things in this world that Nathan loved more than a blowjob from you. If you offered to suck him off, Nathan’s pants were already to his knees. No matter when or where, he’d find a way to get head. This led to a lot of risky bathroom escapes and leaving parties early. Nathan just loves a good ol’ blowey; petting your hair, looking down at you with a gaze full of lust, grumbling in pleasure as you choke.

However…I think we’re all aware of Nathan’s infamous refusal to use his own mouth on you. He somehow made himself think that doing so made him weak or submissive, probably something he heard in high school that stuck. He’ll straight up say, “Nope” when you ask and refuse to elaborate.

That is until one night, he’s stripping you’re clothing off and laying you down on his bed, giving you feverish and sloppy kisses. Your legs are wrapped around him, your face is red, and something about how gorgeous you look under him just makes him go, ‘Fuck it.’ and he dives in. Minimal thoughts, pure desperation.

And Nathan fucking loves it. He loves gripping your thighs and teasing you with his tongue and groaning against you whenever you moan his name. He’s a master at it too, knows all the perfect moves. It became a regular occurrence very quickly. Whenever you go down on him, he reciprocates. Or will just get on his knees for you at random moments purely because he loves to. Nathan’s new favorite thing is to give oral.

P for Pace-

It really depends on his mood. He can be both rough and romantic, often both at the same time. Sometimes he’ll be pounding so hard into you that your vision goes blurry; other times he will gently caress your body as he eases in and out. There’s really no definitive pace he goes for, though he is on the aggressive side more often than not in the bedroom. If he’s going to fast (or slow) for you, Nathan has no problem adjusting accordingly.

Q for Quickie-

He’s actually not a huge fan of them. He likes the concept of them, quickly and discreetly fucking each other, putting off other things just for sex. But in practice, not so much.

Rather than just enjoying it, Nathan will get stressed about his time management or wonder if something is going wrong without him there. He thrives on routine and prefers to take his time with you, so quickies just throw off his whole vibe. If anything, he’ll give you some oral and be on his way, saving the real thing for later. Even better, he’ll talk you up, telling you all the things he’s gonna do before leaving you to crave him.

R for Risk-

Nathan is very open to experimentation and is willing to try anything at least once. If he doesn’t like it, though, he’ll shut it down pretty quickly. But you don’t ever have to worry about sex being too vanilla or boring for you, Nathan is quite the adventurous type in the bedroom.

If he’s caught doing something freaky in a semi-public area with you, like a rented-out movie theatre or random bedroom during a party, he fucking dares it to be released to the press. Charles will do everything in his power to keep that from happening, for image’s sake, but Nathan is the biggest rockstar in the world. As I said earlier, he likes to show you off, and this is an extension of that. Now everyone knows how hard he fucks the gorgeous person he constantly has under his arm, what’s so embarrassing about that?

The potential risk for a pregnancy is…well, very touchy. You’d have to have a long conversation beforehand. If you don’t take precautionary measures, he will.

S for Stamina-

Nathan is a pretty big dude, and as strong as he is, not in the best physical health I must say. He has no issue getting it up again a couple more times, but with how hard he often goes, Nathan needs to take some good, long breathers. If you do plan on going at it for a while, these breaks will be full of gentle touches and praise for how well you’re doing, before he goes right back into you calling you a slut for wanting his cock so much. Ugh. If the two of you are careful, he can actually last a very long time, but there are a few certain little things you do that drive him crazy and will speed up his orgasm.

T for Toy-

A reasonable amount. Bondage equipment, whips and paddles, a few ornate knives to cause just the right amount of damage. Probably a vibrator that he tortures you with (male or female cmon now). He’s into kinky shit and kinky shit requires materials a lot of the time. I could also imagine him being really into that sex-furniture stuff, just to make things more convenient. If you ever have something you wanna try out, just ask and he’ll get it in a heartbeat. The only thing I can see him being adverse to is a dildo; you have his dick, why would you need another? Until you explain all the extra fun that can be had with it, then Nathan is on board.

U for Unfair-

Obviously with his dynamics and kinks, teasing goes along with that. He never edges you for too long, just long enough to make your eyes water and have you begging him for a desperate release. Really though, he doesn’t have nearly enough patience to edge you for hours, or hell, days but Nathan likes having a sense of control, so he still holds back when he’s feeling particularly malicious. He’ll tease you just long enough to get you to beg and then give in to you with overstimulation that’s almost worse than the teasing.

In public, he might give you some subtle pinches and gripes, hovering around you when he’s feeling frisky, but it’s nothing too blatant. If he’s desperate enough, he’ll drag you off to a slightly more private area.

V for Volume-

Nathan has a deep, gravely, sexy voice. It’d be a crime if he was silent during sex. Luckily, you get plenty of delicious growls, grunts, and groans from him. The pure bass of his voice shakes your entire skeleton when he’s real close to your ear. He does a whole lot of dirty talking too, using that same voice, degrading you to all hell while your mind in a blur of pleasure and pain. If he happens to be on the receiving end, you might be able to elicit some breathy, whimpery swears from him. While he’s not super loud volume-wise, all his noises are fucking perfect.

W for Wild Card-

My name ain’t Polyklok for no reason ffs

Pickles was totally the one to introduce him to the world of kink. He always knew he was a bit rougher than most and had some freaky fantasies, but when he and Pickles frequently messed around in the early days of Dethklok, he learned just how deep his desire for pain went.

Pickles had him tied up, hit, cut, and edged for what felt like forever. It was torture and yet Nathan always craved more of it. He felt so exposed and so safe at the same time. His exposure to BDSM was with him on the receiving end and it was perfect for him to discover just how wonderful that connection through pain was, especially with someone he trusted like Pickles.

He always has it in the back of his mind whenever he’s going at it with you, making sure that you’re feeling all the same wonderful things he felt and assuring that you are just as safe as he was. Tormenting your body is really a love language to him.

X for XRay-

Oh sweet baby satan

Nathan is hung. 8.5 Inches when fully erect and hella girthy, a slightly narrow head for your sake. The thing still somehow manages to bend upwards when he’s hard, by some miracle. He’s circumcised (look at his parents I mean-) and considerably veiny. Could’ve honestly been a porn star if the whole death metal thing didn’t work out.

Y for Yearning-

His sex drive his very high early in the relationship and eases into something more manageable within a few months. But overall, yeah, he’s quite set and you’ll certainly never feel neglected.

Depending on the damage; he might accidentally leave you untouchable for half a month due to the pure soreness. And he’ll be very apologetic. But usually, assuming injuries are kept under a certain threshold, he’ll go at it 2-4 times a week.

But his yearning can also build up. If you don’t happen to join him in travels for touring season, you’re gonna get it when he finally gets back. Both of you are gonna be completely unavailable for a few days minimum.

Z for Zzz-

Not too soon. This was pretty much all elaborated on in ‘A’, but he still cleans up and cuddles and gives you plenty of good aftercare. Once that’s all done and he’s confirmed that you feel taken care of…Nathan will sleep. If it happens to be way late at night/early in the morning, he might tough it out just to get his day started, but he’s gonna start feeling like crap by noon and probably pass out soon after that. Man needs his sleep.

…

I need my sleep. Dude, this took almost two months and many all-nighters. And I have so many requests…I love writing and I love the silly metal boys but…boy howdy. Thanks for reading, gorgeous.

[hermannsthumb]

for the autumn fic meme.. newmann #20 like newt chasing leaves and hermann outwardly is psh, childish and internally heart eyes and is crunching the leaves around his feet with his cane when newts not looking (this became really long lol feel free to just post it not as a request)

20. Crunching Leaves

from autumn fic prompts here

this is such a cute idea

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

"It's weird having a break from things, isn't it?" Newton says.

Hermann hums noncommittally. He prods the small fire in their chiminea with the end of a rusted poker (dug up from a garden shed that's seen better days), and moves his leg back just in time to avoid spraying his trouser hem with sparks. Newton tugs the sleeves of his sweatshirt down over his knuckles and gives him a small smile. "Even a small break," he amends. "It's like a mini vacation."

Hermann is not sure—if given the opportunity to do so—he would've picked the northwestern United States as his ideal vacation spot, nor would he spend three out of their four days there networking and lecturing at an international Kaiju Science conference, but he supposes he understands Newton's point. The location of their rental cabin is remote and wooded, which has made for rather calm, picturesque evenings by the living room fireplace, and everything (even their sparse accumulation of groceries) is on the PPDC's budget, which means it's hardly the hit to the wallet it would have otherwise been. Ideally, he would not have to handle Newton on a vacation, either, but Hermann supposes nothing can be perfect. He watches silently as Newton pours himself another cup of coffee from the rental kitchen's French press. "Mm," Hermann says.

Their flight back to Hong Kong leaves tomorrow afternoon. Over their shared dinner of instant mashed potatoes and fish sticks from a box, Newton had suddenly become deeply incensed that they had not taken full advantage of the rental cabin, and dragged Hermann outside onto the small back patio to do some proper autumn things—to Newton, that meant finding two wooden deck chairs languishing under moss and ivy at the very back corner of the property, lighting a campfire in the dusty chiminea with an ancient book of matches discovered under the sink, and attempting to roast marshmallows with a broken tree branch. He gave up on the marshmallows after he kept burning his beyond recognition, too impatient to hold them anywhere but directly in the flames. Hermann had not bothered in the first place. He's always been somewhat repulsed by their texture. "Have you ever been camping?" Newton says.

Hermann shivers at the thought of willingly spending time inside a tent. Even sitting outside beneath trees right now (where twigs bounce from above onto his clothing, bugs keep landing on him, and all sorts of things to set off his hay fever) is pushing the limits of his patience. "Absolutely not."

"I used to go camping every October when I was a kid," Newton says. "I loved it. This place kinda reminds me of the campground we'd go to. So many—" He waves his hand around, and adds, lamely, "Trees."

Hermann privately thinks that all forests tend to look the same, but he doesn't tell Newton that; it's not as if they can take a stroll through the woods whenever they'd like back in Hong Kong, where they spend about ninety percent of their waking moments toiling away in the dark and the damp of the basement laboratory, and he's not keen to put a damper on Newton's good spirits. He knows Newton has spent more than a few days off of work hunting down the nearest hiking spots, always returning (often the following morning) with his pockets full of leaves and interesting rocks he looks up online. Hermann has always, quite frankly, found it endearing. Not that he would ever confess such a thing to Newton.

He pokes the fire again. This time, sparks shoot out at Newton's boots. Newton doesn't bother moving out of the way. "I never spent much time outside as a child," Hermann says. "Too busy with school, I suppose." When he was not doing schoolwork for his classes, he was practicing whatever his mother and father decided school was not sufficiently instructing him in (for the Gottlieb children were expected to be exceedingly accomplished and well-rounded in their skills)—advanced mathematics, languages beyond their native German, even piano, for a spell, before Hermann finally confessed he loathed the instrument, though he still retains enough of it he reckons he could play some Chopin should you sit him down in front of one. He used to have a treehouse—a hand-me-down from his elder brother, as most of Hermann's things were—he would keep his telescope in, and he would fall asleep there some nights, one eye still pressed to the eyepiece. That was when he still had the full capabilities of his left leg that were required to shimmy up and down a ladder, of course.

"Didn't you live on a farm?" Newton says.

It was not actually a farm, as Hermann frequently reminds Newton, merely a former farmhouse on what was, at one point, likely farmland, but that must've been at least a hundred years before the Gottliebs moved in. The house was certainly old enough. Newton never fails to roar with laughter over it anyway, and Hermann knows it's because he's picturing Hermann's in dungarees and milking a cow or some such nonsense. Hermann can see Newton's mouth twitching into a broad grin even now. "Hardly," Hermann says. "I really do mean I was too busy to have the time to do much else. My mother and father preferred it that way."

"'Much else'?" Newton echoes.

"Childish sorts of things," Hermann says. A dead leaf drifts from a tree overhead and lands near him on the patio. Hermann stabs it with the poker, debates condemning it to the fire, and then flicks it off to the side inside. He drops the poker back on the ground. "Er. Playing. Indoors, or outdoors."

This sobers Newton up. "You mean, like, being a normal kid?"

"I suppose," Hermann says.

"Jeez, dude," Newton says. "That's...kinda depressing."

Hermann shrugs and takes a sip of his coffee. He doesn't think much about it these days. He doesn't think much about his childhood in general, really, and certainly doesn't waste time moping over it—there are much more important things that require his attention. "Is it?" His coffee's gone cold. They've been out here for quite a long time; the sun has almost set on the horizon, and the chill of the October evening is settling upon them fast. Hermann suddenly wishes he'd thought to pack a thicker sweater. Or, oddly enough, a book. It feels like the appropriate setting to read something, perhaps even aloud to Newton (not that they would ever agree on what to read). Perhaps he and Newton might draw their chairs together, and toss a heavy blanket over themselves, and Newton would put his head on Hermann's shoulder and poke fun at Hermann's taste in literature, but listen intently anyway...

The fire pops. Hermann coughs and shoos his traitorous thoughts away. Another leaf drifts down, this one landing in Newton's hair, and Newton's smile returns as he extracts it. He clenches his fist around it with a satisfying crunch. "I love fall," he says. He raises his boot above another leaf and slams it down with an even louder crunch. His smile widens into a grin. "Hey, do you remember if there was a rake in the shed? I kinda want to make a leaf pile."

"It's nearly dark, Newton," Hermann points out.

"And?" Newton hops to his feet. "I'll be right back," he says, and, his scarf flapping behind him like a cape, tears off back in the direction of the shed, taking care to trod on each and every dry leaf in his path.

He returns a minute later empty-handed. "No rake," he says.

He jumps on another leaf. Then another.

"Don't be such a child," Hermann sighs, though his heart twists in his chest at the sight of Newton so unabashedly happy. He often envies Newton for how carefree he can be sometimes, though he has a sinking feeling what he's feeling now is nothing remotely like envy. Newton really is a thorn in his side.

Newton, rather appropriately, sticks his tongue out at him, and then jumps on another leaf. The force of it jostles his glasses so far down his nose they threaten to fall to the ground themselves. "I'm having fun, man. This is the first time I haven't been stressed out of my fuckin' mind in months." He pushes his glasses back up. "I wish we had another day here."

Oddly enough, Hermann finds himself agreeing with Newton. But he'd prefer an additional day without Newton, of course—Hermann would love to have a day all to himself here, where he could sleep in late, take advantage of the bathtub (which he's been too shy to so far, given that their cabin has only one restroom and he shares it with Newton), and devote as little time as he pleased to all things kaiju-related. Well, maybe he'd let Newton stop in for dinner. Or for a passionate debate or two. Or to share a blanket and a book, if only in Hermann's wildest fantasies. It does sound a bit like a bore without him.

While Newton's back is turned, Hermann uses his cane to crunch a few dry leaves littering the ground by his feet. The sound really is quite satisfying. "Can we go inside now?" he says. When Newton turns to him, his hair sticking up at odd angles, his cheeks flushed, and his eyes bright behind his glasses, Hermann must affect a frown to keep himself from smiling. "I'm—er—I'm getting a bit cold."

[tirednotflirting]

i could do without a tan on my left hand where my fourth finger meets my knuckle

hello again i was here approx ten min ago and now i am back. kinda. also jesus that title looks LONG wow

this is not new! this was posted to ao3 a touch under a month ago for my darling @clumsyclifford​‘s birthday and i’m just a dummy and never posted it to tumblr. so here i am sdlkfjsdl

i got very VERY emo over my love for bella in the a/n on ao3 so you can read my love letter there hehe. bella, babes, i love you so crazy much and i feel so lucky to know you and to call you a friend. thank you for teaching me how to love the things i create and encourage me to really actually grow as a writer. it’s been a lot of fun and a great deal of the confidence i have in myself now is thanks to the early support i got from people like yourself. hope you have a happy wednesday filled with many cups of tea <3

here this is on ao3 if that’s more ur jam 

Love is a mug of tea.

2020, Maryland

Alex loves his kitchen.

He loves the big island right in the center of it and the windows over the sink facing out toward the barn. He loves the random assortment of tea towels his mom gave him when he first moved out, and how they’ve traveled with him to each new home over the years. He loves the fridge with lots of space for pictures of friends and family that greet him each time he walks into the room.

The sun is just rising over the top of the barn. He’s been awake for a little over an hour now. Starting his days in the barn is something he’s grown to love, the early mornings for feeding and greeting his animal friends being the only way he can manage being up before the sun. Once he made it back to the house, he quickly showered before throwing his pajamas back on. There was nowhere else they needed to be today so he figured it appropriate.

He fills and sets his kettle to boil in the corner. The clock on the microwave tells Alex it’s 7AM and he hears the familiar click of the coffee machine starting up. (He had been particularly proud of himself when he figured out how to use that setting.) Alex grabs a couple mugs and drops a tea bag into the one he’s claimed for himself for the morning just as the kettle clicks off. He pours water into the mug and hops up onto the island to wait for the tea to steep.

Alex is scrolling down his Twitter feed a couple minutes later when he hears human footsteps followed by the tapping of the dogs’ nails against the tile. He locks his phone and sets it beside him just in time for Jack to step between Alex’s legs and wrap his arms around his waist. Alex laughs quietly as Jack drops his head to rest against his chest. “Good morning, my love,” Alex greets him in a scratchy voice and runs his fingers through Jack’s bedhead.

Jack hums at the feeling and leans his head back against Alex’s hand. “Hello,” he replies. He sighs and moves to stand straight before leaning in to press a quick kiss to Alex’s lips. Jack smiles lazily and turns to the counter where the coffee machine sits. “Sleep well?”

“Well enough. Was up later than I wanted to be on that call with Mark trying to figure out the plan for next week.”

“You two are always chatty,” Jack says with a smile in his voice while he stirs sugar and milk into his mug. “What time is our flight out tomorrow again?”

Alex slides off the counter to the floor and takes the spot beside Jack, taking the milk carton from him when it’s offered to add to his tea. “Not until the evening. We can probably sleep in a bit, if you want to.”

“I like the way you think,” Jack responds, accepting the milk again when Alex holds it in his direction. He wraps an arm around Alex’s middle to pull him back against chest and presses his lips to Alex’s temple before stepping away to the fridge. Alex feels something pull at the leg of his pajama pants and when he looks down, both of the dogs sit at his feet. He laughs and abandons his mug on the counter to head out of the kitchen towards the back door. Tiny paws click against the wood floor behind him. They race out the door when he finally gets it open.

When he returns to the kitchen, a gentle smile pulls at his lips and he leans against the doorframe for a moment to admire the view. Jack sits in his regular seat at the kitchen island. He’s put his glasses on sometime in the last minute or so since Alex left the room. One hand holds the handle of his coffee mug while the other holds open a novel his mom had sent home with him after he visited her earlier in the week. The sunrise shines through the window over the sink, painting the room in yellow-orange light. It’s a view Alex knows he’s never going to get tired of.

He loves mornings with Jack. When they’re spending their time like this, with their shared early morning routines or deciding who will do what chores around the house that day, it’s easy to imagine spending the rest of his life like this. He can see them, years from now, hosting holiday parties on the farm or arguing over why they should or shouldn’t watch National Treasure 2 for the twelfth time that month, and it takes everything in him not to race back upstairs to grab the ring box he’s got hiding in the back of his closet.

Alex loves his kitchen. Though, as he watches Jack smile down at his novel before pausing to sip from his mug, Alex realizes that the thought of sharing the space with the person he loves has made him love it infinitely more.

“Hey, Jack?”

Jack hums in acknowledgement without looking up from his book.

“Do you want to move in?”

Jack looks up to meet his gaze from across the counter. His brows raise in what is probably surprise and a tiny smile forms across his lips. “Sure.”

“Really?”

Jack folds the corner of the page he’s on before closing it shut. “What? Did you think I’d say no?”

Alex shakes his head with a laugh. “No, I just wasn’t really sure what else to say,” he explains. “I’m just, I don’t know, excited? This is gonna be fun.”

Alex shuffles around the counter into Jack’s open arms that settle around his waist. “It is,” Jack agrees. “Though, I will say, if I’m going to help around the farm more, we’re gonna have to give Milk a talk.”

Alex rolls his eyes and lifts his arms to rest on Jack’s shoulders. “I already told you, the goat is not flirting with you. He bites everyone’s ass.”

“Your goat is trying to steal me away from you.”

“I’ll keep an eye on him.”

“Thank you.” Jack says, sincerely. A moment later, he cracks and laughs as he tugs Alex in closer. He presses another kiss against his lips. “You realize our mothers are going to start their wedding planning thing again once we tell them about this though, right?”

“Maybe I’ll join them for their brunches this time around,” Alex suggests and lets his forehead rest against Jack’s.

“Sure. Just make sure they’ve got next June blocked off since we’ll be on tour,” Jack replies jokingly before squeezing Alex’s waist to move him aside so he can stand to get more coffee. Alex steals his seat and watches him go through the motions of making his second mug. Without asking, Jack sets the kettle to boil again and pulls the box of Alex’s tea out of the cupboard. The sun has risen more and casts a golden glow on Jack through the window while he rinses his mug. Jack’s always looked his best in the morning, Alex thinks. He considers pulling his phone out to snap a picture, but then he remembers that this exact image isn’t going to be one that’s limited by whatever things might be keeping them stuck in their own homes on opposite sides of the country. That home isn’t going to be a plural for them anymore.

He thinks back to the ring box. Maybe it’s going to need a better hiding spot now.

Jack turns back to Alex, a puzzled look on his face, likely in response to Alex’s lack of a response to his question. “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure they know.”

“Good,” Jack says with a wink. He reaches across the counter for his book. “Gonna go finish this chapter on the porch. Care to join?”

Alex smiles. “Let me make my tea first, I’ll be out in a few.”

Jack nods. “Good plan. Love you.”

“Love you, too.”

Jack presses a kiss to his hair when he passes him, and Alex watches him head for the front door from his spot at the island. Even more sunshine greets Jack as he opens the door, the windchime out front twinkling a good morning.

It’s going to be a good day.

Love is hotel sheets and a cup of coffee.

2018, New York, New York

The first time Jack wakes up it’s because he feels a dip in the mattress behind him and a warm arm wrapping back around his middle.

Without opening his eyes, he smiles at the feeling of Alex’s lips pressing against the back of his neck. “Flight was canceled because of the storm,” Alex explains, his voice scratchy with sleep. They were meant to have an early flight off to the next city but it’s an off day anyway so the delay in travel shouldn’t really matter. “We’re booked for another one at like, ten tonight or something.”

He turns in Alex’s arms and lets his eyes flutter open. It’s still really early and the curtains are pulled shut, leaving the room dark like the middle of the night. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust before he can really make out any of his boy’s features. Alex settles onto his back and pulls Jack halfway onto his chest. Jack lifts a hand to hold Alex’s cheek, his thumb brushing along the darker circles below his eyes. They’re only a few days away from a break for a couple weeks, and the little sleep he knows Alex has been allowing himself is starting to show. Jack is looking forward to getting them both back to his place to just sleep for a day or five.

“Sounds like the weather in New York wants you to sleep for a few more hours with your handsome boyfriend, then.”

Jack feels Alex laugh from where his cheek rests against his chest. “The storm knows you're handsome?”

“Of course,” Jack sighs. “It’s a universally known fact.”

“Guess we have to keep sleeping.”

“We do, yes,” Jack agrees. He lifts himself up for a moment to press a kiss to Alex’s jaw, smiling at the feeling of his lashes brushing against Alex’s stubbly cheek. Jack cuddles back against his chest and lets his eyes fall shut as their legs tangle below the sheets. He’s asleep again a moment later.

The next time Jack wakes up, the room is still mostly dark but he’s alone.

A thin stream of light shining through a spot in the curtains and the smell of coffee somewhere in the room tells him that enough time has passed that it’s likely a normal morning hour now. It also tells him that Alex is awake somewhere. Jack sits up slowly in bed and looks around the room, expecting to find Alex sitting in the chair in the corner scrolling through Twitter on his phone or writing at the desk. He frowns when he finds the room empty of his boyfriend until then he hears a sneeze on the other side of the curtain. Laughing quietly to himself, Jack rubs the sleep from his eyes. He turns to get out of the bed and, after spotting the pot of coffee, pours himself a mug.

Growing up, Jack has always hated staying in hotels. The rooms were always too cold, the air conditioner too noisy, the pillows just a bit too fluffy. He often found himself jealous of kids who found hotel rooms to be like a magic place to be because he was always miserable until he could crawl back into his own bed back home.

It was better once they started traveling for band stuff. He started bringing his own pillow (the firmness and familiar scent both providing a sense of comfort). And if he ever forgot it on the bus, Alex's chest was a decent substitute. A bed would never feel cold with Alex the Human Furnace pressed against his back below the sheets. The sound of the air conditioning was easily drowned out when he had the gentle, steady puffs of Alex’s breath against his neck to count instead of sheep.

He crosses the room, pausing for a moment to grab a hoodie and his new book from his carry-on, and pulls away the curtain to step out onto the balcony. Alex turns up from his journal and smiles up at him. He’s still in pajama pants and a long sleeve he likely pulled from Jack’s bag. “Good morning, love.”

Jack leans down to press a kiss to the top of Alex’s head before moving to lean against the railing. “Is it still morning?”

“Well, no,” Alex laughs. “But we’re on tour, so it can be morning if we want it to be.”

Jack looks down onto the street, to all of the tiny people moving from place to place. Everyone in New York always moves quickly, Jack thinks. With purpose. He admires that. “Well, good morning to you too,” he replies. “Why are we out of bed if we don’t have to be in an airport for several more hours?”

“I wanted to watch the city,” Alex explains. He lifts his mug to take another sip before continuing. “We move so fast these days. I miss getting to explore.”

“Hard to explore from this balcony.”

“Rian found some restaurant a few blocks away he wants to do an early dinner at,” Alex says, with a wave of his hand. “We can explore then. We’re resting right now.”

“City does still look pretty from here,” Jack observes. Autumn looks nice on New York, he thinks. The winters are too cold and the summers are too hot. Mid-October, when it’s cool but not cold, when the trees are all a rainbow of oranges and reds, that’s his favorite time to be in the city. From where they sit right now, with the sun shining down to warm them and a cool breeze blowing around the steam rising from his mug, it’s easy to say this might be his favorite morning in the city to date.

“Exactly,” Alex smiles while he watches Jack look out over the railing at the buildings and sky.

“What are you working on?” Jack asks. He takes the seat beside Alex and props his feet up on the chair opposite him.

“Feels like lyrics but I might just be journaling,” Alex replies. “I can’t really tell.”

“What are you writing about?”

“You,” Alex responds without hesitation. A decade ago, if Jack had asked that question, Alex likely would have looked up at him with a blush painted across his cheeks and quickly shut the book closed before saying nothing, just songwriter stuff. They’ve come a long way since then.

“Gonna be our next big hit?” Jack jokes.

“Oh, absolutely,” Alex says with a wink. Alex reaches for Jack’s hand after he sets his mug back down and lifts it to press a kiss against his knuckles. He holds onto Jack’s fingers for a moment longer as he takes a deep breath, the early afternoon sun shining on his face, before he lets go to pick up his pen again.

Jack loves touring. He wants them to keep touring until they’re old and gray and even Zack struggles to run and jump across the stage. He loves traveling and finding new undiscovered corners of the world. He loves how it always feels fresh and new in every place they land. He loves not knowing exactly what’s going to come next.

He spent a long time wondering if he should want to settle down. To find a place to really build a more permanent life for himself at some point. But then he looks across the table at Alex and watches the way he bites at the end of his pen. He watches his eyes light up in joy before the pen falls back to the paper in his journal, the lyrics or story or notes about something scratching their way into the page. Alex reaches again for his mug and pauses his scribbling to take a sip. His eyes meet Jack's gaze and he smiles in his direction before returning to the task at hand.

Maybe settling down doesn’t have to be a place. It can be sharing a bed with the same person even if that bed is a new one each night. It can be a pair of dark brown eyes that for the last 20 years can always find his own, even in the most crowded rooms.  

Hotel day or not, Jack knows he can’t spend the whole day throwing heart eyes across the table while Alex works. Over the years, Jack has noticed that Alex is always too nice to ask for alone time while he writes despite everyone knowing he likes it sometimes. He takes the last sip of his coffee and moves to stand.

“Gonna go bug Zack while he works out for awhile,” Jack says, pushing the sliding glass door open. “I’ll come find you in a few hours.”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that,” Alex laughs, his eyes squinting up at Jack against the sunlight. “Have fun.”

Jack blows him a kiss before stepping back inside. He digs his slides out of his bag and grabs a key card before wandering out of the room and in the direction of the elevators.

On his trip down to the ground floor, he starts thinking about it again, what settling down would look like for him. He's starting to realize that the struggle there is that he can’t picture a settled future for himself because the only future he sees is about a them rather than a him. No matter where they go, Alex is and always has been home.

And maybe, Jack thinks, it’s as simple as that.

Love is a sweater and sky full of stars.

2012, Middle of Nowhere, Southwest USA

The first time Alex steals a hoodie from Jack is February during their sophomore year of high school. Jack’s parents were out of town visiting his sister so they ended up at his place after band practice. They nicked a couple of beers from the fridge in the garage and spent fifteen minutes debating if they had reorganized the remaining bottles in a way that made it less obvious there might be a couple missing.

It was another fifteen or so minutes of drinking and complaining about algebra exams before Alex shivered in the deck chair he had claimed. Alex never said a word, but Jack must have noticed the goosebumps on his bare arms and wordlessly got up to go inside. A couple minutes later, the confused look on Alex’s face was answered with a navy blue hoodie thrown in his face.

He laughed and thanked Jack before he pulled it over his head. It was soft and warm from being inside. When he pulled the hood up over his hair, he was met with the scent of lavender laundry detergent and the body spray Jack had taken a liking to that winter. Alex would never admit to how he started hating the smell of it a little less when Jack started wearing it.

Alex pulled the sleeves over his hands and shoved them into the hoodie pocket. When he looked back up across the metal patio table, a small smile pulled at Jack’s lips. Alex wasn’t given the time to ask what the look had been for before Jack launched into another story about something that had happened in his chemistry lab earlier that week.

(It’s not until they’re on tour the summer after they graduate that Alex really understands what the look was for. He doesn’t really get it until Jack is kissing him against the bunks, his hands sliding underneath a sweatshirt Alex had pulled from Jack’s suitcase. Though it’s impossible for the meaning to be more obvious when You look cute in my clothes is whispered between their lips. Alex only laughs in response and trips over his own feet dragging Jack towards the back lounge.)

Nearly ten years since that night at Jack’s parents’ place, Alex still finds himself thankful that Jack’s sweaters fit loosely on him and smell like the mixture of fragrances that make up his boy. It’s still the same laundry detergent his mom used in the early 2000s, but the cologne Jack wears now is much nicer than the stuff he used to douse himself in every morning before school. He’s pretty sure it’s the one that Rian bought Jack for Christmas last year. Alex will have to ask him in the morning.

The A/C kicks on above where he sits on the tour bus couch, and Alex pulls the sleeves of the sweatshirt he’d stolen out of Jack’s bunk over his hands. He’s having a tea, one of those calming, nighttime ones, in a desperate attempt to settle his mind so he can get some sleep before they’re parked at a new venue in a new city in the morning. The show earlier that night had felt electric, Alex had been more in tune with this crowd than he had in a while. It was a glorious feeling to walk off stage with, but it also meant that the buzz was still tingling a bit just below his skin hours later.

Tea and his journal were his typical go-to choices to relax on a night like this, but unfortunately, his normal methods were failing him. He takes a deep breath, wondering for a moment if he should try out some of those meditation techniques Zack had taught him, and then he feels the bus come to a stop.

He pulls aside one of the curtains to check out where they’re at. Some kind of gas station, it appears. No obvious signs of that much civilization around it, very typical middle of nowhere Arizona (or maybe New Mexico?). He watches their bus driver wander out in front of the bus and shake hands with one of the guys driving the bus some of the other crew are on. Everyone is just stretching their legs, it looks like.

He reaches for his mug to take another sip and frowns down at the ceramic when he realizes it’s empty. Alex considers digging the box of tea out of the crowded kitchen storage for a moment before glancing toward the front of the bus. With a nod to himself, he leaves the mug in the sink and heads up for the door.

They’re in basically the desert and it’s the middle of the night in November, so Alex really has no reason to be surprised by the chill in the air he’s greeted with after stepping out into the lot. He pulls his sleeves back over his palms and walks out further into the lot. Alex hears someone call his name. Across the lot he sees their driver waving. “We’re leaving in thirty. Be back on the bus by then.”

“Got it,” he yells back. And then it’s silent.

That’s always been one of the best things about traveling at night like this. He finds it exciting to really truly be in the middle of nowhere, where he can step out of the bus into stillness, the only sounds being the tiny chirping of bugs or tree branches blowing in the wind. That’s not even his favorite part though. He tips his face up toward the night sky and squeezes his eyes shut to get them more accustomed to the darkness.

No, his favorite part is the stars.

Alex is endlessly grateful for the opportunities they’ve had the last few years to live and work in big, important cities, but he misses the skies he got to call his own out in the suburbs of Baltimore. The light pollution in LA is so bad he can’t see a single star. After about a month out there, he sadly resigned himself to looking up into the sky for the blinking lights of airplanes and just playing pretend.

There’s no need for that out here. The sky above his head here is filled with glittery lights millions of miles away, with giant stars so big he can’t really comprehend their size. It makes him feel kind of small. Alex likes that feeling sometimes. Puts things into perspective, he thinks.

He’s too busy gazing up above his head, trying to find constellations and planets he knows should be visible at this time in the year, that he doesn’t notice the footsteps approaching from behind him. A pair of arms wrap around his waist and he jumps only for a moment before he looks down and recognizes the hands folded over his middle. Jack drops his head to rest on Alex’s shoulder. “Why the fuck are you still awake?” Jack mumbles sleepily against Alex’s neck.

Alex leans back into his chest. “I couldn’t sleep and I felt us stop,” he explains. “I came out to say hello to my friends.”

“You mean the stars?” Jack asks.

“The planets, too. Oh, and the moon.”

“You’ve got quite the posse,” Jack laughs, his lips pressing against the tattoo behind Alex’s ear. “Can I join you?”

“Always,” Alex smiles.

They take a seat on the hard ground and start recapping their day quietly to each other as they face up toward the sky. Despite both of them knowing Alex runs warmer between the two of them, Alex doesn’t say a word when Jack drops an arm around his waist to pull him in closer to his side. Jack starts recounting a dream he was having before he woke up and draws patterns with his fingertip against Alex’s knee. Eventually they grow quiet for a few moments. Before the silence can settle around them too heavily, Jack starts calling out the names of different constellations he can see.

The universe works in funny ways, Alex has always thought. It can spin together new galaxies and expand on and on forever and build up a bright and brilliant sky like the one they’re looking up at right now. But it also made Jack choose to sit at Alex’s lunch table back in the eighth grade and shoved all four of them together on this wild journey and let Jack and Alex fall in love. It’s crazy to Alex that something capable of making and doing such big things would focus any energy on a couple of suburban boys sitting in a parking lot in the middle of nowhere on a punk band tour.

And suddenly, as Alex sits pressed against Jack, watching the person he loves most in the world gaze up at the clear night sky in wonder, his free hand pointing up at all of the constellations Alex had taught him over the years, words start circling around his head. Bits and pieces of lyrics about love and galaxies forming, warm sweaters and cool nights. He blinks away all the words though to let his vision clear. He can write the song another day. Right now, he’d rather focus on the smile pulling across Jack’s cheeks and the way he squeezes Alex’s hand every time he remembers the name of another star in the Little Dipper.

“Alex, was that right?” Jack asks and pulls Alex out of the love drunk headspace he’d been caught up in.

“I love you,” he sighs in response, his mind not able to process any other words. Alex lifts his hand from his lap to cup around Jack’s neck to bring their lips together for a moment. When he pulls away, Alex catches the pale blush on Jack’s cheeks in the light from the parking lot.

“That doesn’t really answer my question,” Jack teases with a laugh. “But I love you, too.”

“You were distracting me so I missed whatever you said, but you were probably right. You’ve gotten pretty good at this.”

Jack flashes him a proud smile. “I have a good teacher.”

“Come on, lovebirds. We’ve got a show to get to,” a voice says down to them. Alex looks up at their driver, who laughs at their blushed cheeks before continuing on to the front of the bus.

Jack gets up first and helps Alex to his feet. Their fingers tangle together as they make a sleepy walk back to the bus. “Stay with me tonight?” Jack asks in a whisper once they’re back inside and the ground starts to rumble gently below their feet.

Alex nods and lets Jack guide them toward the bunks. He hits the light switch as he passes it. “You know, if you keep getting taller, one day it’s going to be physically impossible to fit both of us in there.”

“I like a challenge,” Jack whispers back in the dark before dropping into the bunk. Alex follows after and tucks himself into Jack’s side, his head falling to rest in its typical spot on his chest. Alex knows he’ll get too warm in the night and should probably lose the sweatshirt, but the extra layer of Jack relaxes him better than any cup of tea could ever dream of.

“Thanks for stargazing with me,” Alex sighs, the lateness of the hour finally hitting him. Jack reaches down and pulls a blanket over them both.

“Always,” Jack assures him, his arm wrapping around Alex’s waist.

All night long Alex dreams of bright, clear skies full of stars and Jack holding his hand while naming them all.

Love is a thin gold band sitting in a dish beside the sink.

2032, Maryland

They had received the little blue bowl as a fifth anniversary gift from Rian after he had received a call from the two of them at 2AM tipsy and nearly crying because Alex’s wedding band had slipped off while doing the dishes. Rian had been staying at his parents’ place at the time and showed up an hour later, toolbox in hand, to help them find the ring. It’s been another five years since then but it’s still Rian’s favorite story to tell whenever he’s in town and Jack and Alex are hosting a party.

Jack had never had an issue with his ring trying to slip past his knuckle while cleaning up after dinner. But after the scare with Alex’s, he figures there’s no use in testing chance. So after turning on the hot water tap, he places the band into the dish. He sticks his hand under the water and waits for it to warm, knowing it might be a minute or two since he’s pretty sure he heard Alex running the shower a few minutes earlier after returning from the barn.

Married life isn’t what Jack expected it to be. He kind of assumed they would bicker over random tiny things in the way that his parents did. There was a part of him that thought maybe this would be the thing that made him start feeling like an actual grown up, that a ring on his left hand might be the missing piece to the puzzle of feeling like a put together adult. But nothing really changed. They had both been living on the farm during breaks from tour for a couple years by the time Alex finally asked while on a trip to the cabin. So there was no moving around and there really wasn’t a shift in any other part of their lives to work with either. It was like Rian had said during his best man speech: “I mean come on, guys, you’ve basically been married since we graduated high school.”

He had been worried he would be bad at it. Alex had always been better at sitting still than he was. It had been the original reason Jack gravitated toward Alex. No one else had ever known how to calm Jack enough to stop the constant motion in his world for a minute. Guiding words or a hand against his back from Alex had always been the one thing to ground him, whether they were on a long flight or on a stage in front of twenty thousand people. Alex was always the answer.

It doesn’t take long to finish up the dishes. They had cleaned as they went while cooking so it was just a few plates to clear away. After Alex had carried the stack of them to the sink, Jack waved him away in the direction of the living room. Reluctantly, Alex had rolled his eyes and said a quiet thank you before he refilled his wine glass from the bottle in the fridge and wandered out of the room.

Now, Jack turns off the tap and grabs the towel to dry his hands before slipping his ring back. He retrieves his own glass from the dining room and fills it with the white that Alex had picked up for them to try and steps across the hall to join him.

Alex sits curled up in his usual corner of the couch, his glasses slipping toward the end of his nose as he taps against the screen of the tablet in his lap. He scratches at his head in thought and his beanie falls to the cushion behind him. He doesn’t bother reaching for it again. As Jack takes the spot beside him, he smiles at the touch of gray in Alex’s roots that show through the faded purple he’s had for a while. Jack’s been trying to get him to embrace his graceful aging for ages, but he admires Alex’s very punk insistence on hiding the silver hairs below blues and pinks.

“What are you working on?” Jack asks. He lets his head fall to rest against Alex’s shoulder after setting his glass on the coffee table.

“Mark said the Sunday puzzle was fun this week so I’m giving it a shot,” Alex replies without looking up from the screen. “I forget ‘fun’ in his words means really fucking hard, though.”

“He’s a very smart boy,” Jack says, thoughtfully.

“The smartest.”

They sit in silence for a few more minutes while Alex tries out different options for 16 across. Eventually, he sighs and hits the button to lock the screen. He replaces the tablet with his glass of wine, and they adjust so Jack sits between Alex’s legs with his head resting against Alex’s chest. Most evenings end like this these days when they’re not out on tour. It’s Jack’s favorite part of the day. Sometimes they both sit and work through a couple chapters of whatever book they each picked up recently. Sometimes they watch a movie. But they’re always together in this room as the sunset turns to twilight, and it’s something Jack is grateful for.

The dim room lights up bright as lightning flashes outside and a low roll of thunder follows a few moments later. Jack closes his eyes and focuses on the sound of the rain hitting the porch just beyond the window. “Everybody all closed up out of the storm out there?”

“Oh, yeah,” Alex says, pausing to take a sip from his glass. “They went in without any complaint. They must have sensed it coming.”

Jack hums in agreement. Alex grabs Jack’s free hand and brings them up to rest against Jack’s chest. It’s strange, Jack thinks sometimes, how much he’s grown to love the moments of silence with Alex. Growing up, their world had been so loud and busy. He thinks maybe that’s what taught them to so easily find moments of peace with one another. Short moments in venue dressing rooms before they took the stage all around the world and the tour bus back lounge were all they really had. And the buzz of tour never really stops ringing in their ears when they’re out on the road. It’s been a good change though here, that they don’t have so much noise to fight to find moments where they can sit with only the sound of a late summer storm and their own breathing.

It’s nice, Jack thinks, that they’ve really gotten the best of both worlds in that sense. They’re settled down enough that their mothers both still find casual ways to ask about grandchildren at Sunday brunch. But they also still get to go out on the road with Rian and Zack and play loud rock shows to seas of jumping, singing fans. Jack had worried for a while about those two sides coexisting. He’s thankful they’ve managed it so well.

Outside the storm rages on, the wind changing direction and slapping more rain against the window. Every so often, storms like this still set Jack on edge, despite how he’s lived through probably hundreds of them at this point in his life. If the thunder is just a little bit too loud or the lightning too bright, sometimes he swears he can feel the wind shaking the windows. It’s in those moments that Alex will grab his hand like he’s doing now and tap his fingers back and forth against Jack’s knuckles. It’s the same thing he’s done since they were out on Warped Tour at twenty years old, weathering out storms from the bus somewhere in Florida or Chicago. Some things never really change, Jack’s learned over the years.

“We still need to get up early to stop by the farmer’s market for flowers for my parents’ anniversary and that honey your mom wanted,” Alex says as he sits up, signalling for Jack to do the same. He moves to stand and reaches a hand out to Jack. “Want to call it an early night?”

“You read my mind,” Jack says with a yawn as he accepts Alex’s hand.

They wander through the house, hitting light switches as they go and checking to make sure they locked all the doors. The walls they pass are lined with plaques from band things and family photos and art collected over the years. Jack’s always liked how much they have hanging on the walls. He likes that their home tells their story.

They part ways when they make it upstairs to their bedroom, Alex heading for the bathroom and Jack for the closet. Jack changes quickly from the t-shirt he’s been wearing all day into something a bit more soft and worn to sleep in. He wanders back across the room and leans against the doorframe, just watching Alex place his ring into a dish that matches the one downstairs in the kitchen (Rian had bought a matching set because he’s always been the smart one among them) before reaching for his face wash.

Married life isn’t what Jack expected it to be. For most of his life, given the whirlwind that it’s been since they hit the road as teenagers, Jack has never known what to expect with anything. He stopped trying to set expectations for most things a long time ago. He thinks he likes it that way though. He likes not really knowing what comes next. He knows he’ll be happy and he’ll never have to do it alone.

And, as he watches Alex examine the band on his fourth finger missing the rest of the glowy summer tan he gets from hours outside with the horses, he’s pretty sure that’s all that really matters.

*

[imagineclaireandjamie]

Shielded. Chapter SEVEN. Catastrophe.

Anonymous said to imagineclaireandjamie: Prompt: Young at heart.

Morning/afternoon/evening all - sorry there wasn’t an update on Sunday, I’ve been moving house so it’s all a little messy at the moment. After next week, though, Shielded should return to normal <3 (for those who’ve asked, this isn’t posted on AO3, it may be at some point but at the moment I don't have enough time to post in both places, so sorry) MBD.

--

There should have been something endearing about being butted daily by a bouncing cloud, but the ewe Claire had taken care of for Jamie seemed to be having more fun than it should. For the third time that week she found herself chasing the bleating thing around the house as it continued to knock pictures, magazines, books, remotes and anything else not glued down over and off every single surface. Nothing was safe.

“OI!” She yelled, hoping her ‘mum voice’ would subdue the raging beast (it didn’t). “Watch the…”

Too late, she thought, as it went careering into the side of the wall. Luckily the house was made of stronger stuff, and her erstwhile companion simply shook herself and trotted off down the hallway.

‘Headstrong’ was the word she’d used in her earlier call to Jamie. He had laughed, covering his mouth so that she couldn’t hear him, as she’d relayed the story of her morning but had made a mental note that perhaps having a lamb in the house had not been the smartest move. Usually timid, sheep could pose bigger issues the more...content...they became with human contact though he hadn’t thought her large enough to pose as much of an issue as she did.

By the end of the week she (the ewe) had fully established herself as head of the house and Claire had succumbed to allowing her free rein.

Peace had been restored for which everyone was grateful.

“Clearly she feels more secure in the house wi’out the other sheep to boss her about.” Jamie said over dinner on Friday -  a night he had, thankfully, managed to get home at a reasonable hour.

“Yes, so it seems.” Claire added, without humour.

Keeping his eye on her, he tried to playfully nudge her under the table and it wasn’t long before a slight pink blush coloured her cheeks and she began laughing too.

“Nothing that’s worth having in this life comes easy,” he quipped, winking as best as he was able, “including the raising of sheep, sassenach…”

There was a moment of silence as Claire cocked her head to the side. “Nope,” she said, a glint of humour behind her eyes, “you’re going to have to explain that one.”

“One what?”

“Sass-a-what now?”

“OH!” For a moment he seemed abashed, his eyes glancing away from hers as he tried to find an effective (and non-insulting) way to explain his comment. He had been thinking of how to address her. It was clear she was finding it difficult to adapt to her new name (more so than her surroundings, though, he was pleased to note). “Well, it’s a bit of a...slur...really. But I didna mean it that way. Only I didna want to keep calling ye ‘lass’ all the time, and it seemed to suit you.”

“...so, what does it mean, technically speaking?”

“Literally it means ‘foreigner’, but it’s usually only used to describe the English.”

“Fitting then?” The sweet smile on her face betrayed her and he knew she wasn’t angry at the assessment.

There was a certain automatic understanding; he was right, she was struggling to connect with her new identity and he’d clearly picked up on the hesitation she had in answering to her new name. She felt like a foreigner in her own body so it seemed natural that her nickname should be linked with such a phrase. And, even though it was meant to be derogatory, she had immediately felt a kinship with it.

“Do you have any Scottish slurs for a cantankerous lamb?”

Having been ill-prepared for the immediacy of her humour, Jamie choked on his drink as he tried to contain his shocked laughter. “Being a notorious farming community, I’m sure there must be something but usually when the animals are misbehaving we just use Gaelic curse words.”

“Maybe you should be the first to coin one - it can be your legacy.”

Raising his eyebrows, he took a sip of his  tea and made an indistinct low noise in the back of his throat. Settling back into a comfortable silence, he watched her take a bite of a biscuit, his interest piqued as she dunked it carelessly into her hot drink. Although she was mostly still an enigma, he was starting to get a sense of her. Certainly she’d been raised well, in a middle class household. From her dress to her manner and the way she spoke and carried herself, he guessed she’d been privately educated.

But there was also something incredibly earthy about her, an aura of something more down-to-earth than that and he was drawn to her like a moth to a flame.

The dreams hadn’t stopped, he’d had one free night but he was niggled persistently by something just beyond his reach and he would wake (usually before his alarm) breathless and needy, sweat often rolling down his back. The cold showers had become a regular occurrence and he felt a little embarrassed when he looked at her - even though, hopefully, she had no knowledge of the inner workings of his mind.

He’d been told on a number of occasions that his face gave nothing away and he couldn’t have been more grateful for that now.

“If you think much harder, Jamie, your brain might fall out of your ears.” She joked, pushing the plate of biscuits across to him as the orphaned ewe bleated loudly in the background. She found that the noise made her giggle and she couldn’t wipe the smile off her face as she watched him dismantle the jammy dodger. “Though that may be preferable to dealing with that furry bully.”

“She’s just a lass with spirit, that’s all.” He returned, watching as she dipped her head, the shorter parts of her hair falling from the bobble she had it tied loosely in to hide away her face.

“Lord knows we need a few more of those in our lives.”

“It can’t hurt, can it?”

As the atmosphere in the room changed, Jamie pushed the half empty plate back across the table, his little finger sliding ever so softly against hers before pulling back. He saw the second her confidence dipped and wanted to calmly reassure her without openly baring her insecurities.

“So,” she said, shaking off her downturned mood relatively quickly, “she probably needs more skilled hands than mine to continue raising her?”

“After the weekend my pal Rupert will come and take her, he has an older ewe he thinks might be able to take her on. But dinna think too much of it, she likes you, she feels comfortable wi’ you that she’s able to-”

“Run me ragged?”

“Aye.”

“It does feel like one of those high school experiments made to put you off becoming parents.” She was stood now, looking into the back utility room at her newest friend, who’d given up making noise to, instead, lie sleepily on the small smattering of hay Claire had placed down for her to munch on.

“She’s probably a wee bit more intense than an egg?”

That image made her snort. “Did you have to take care of an *egg* like a baby?”

“Oh aye, I drew a face on it.”

“It!? No wonder they only gave you poultry produce with that attitude.”

With contentment settling between them once more, Jamie allowed the weight of the last few minutes to fall from his shoulders. He felt proud that he’d been able to turn it around with a humorous quip borne from his own experiences. At the same time, he could see that she too felt relieved.

As the lamb stood sleepily and began to suckle gently on Claire’s outstretched fingers, a delicate moment passed between her and the little ewe.

“See, I told you she liked you.”

As he got into bed that evening, Jamie tried to recall the look of pure pleasure on her face as she’d noticed the bond that she had cultivated. Having been a city dweller for most of her life, she’d spoken to him over dinner about the pet cat her uncle had owned when she was very young but she’d hardly had much chance to engage with animals before or after that point. He’d suggested that he didn’t have to send the ewe away with Rupert but that’d both agreed it would still be better in the long run and he sensed she wanted to keep hold of the good memories she’d made (albeit few and far between) before she grew any bigger and caused anymore damage.

“Sleep well, sassenach,” he whispered, the ghost of a smile pulling at his lips as the image of her nursing the ewe was replaced by Claire with a small red-haired child - the vision appearing unbidden as he fell softly to sleep.

[suitofvibraniumarmor]

Yours Truly [Part Three]

Summary: As the summer continues, Chris and Sadie bond over his ex-wife’s refusal to see Layla for her birthday. Pairing: Chris Pratt x OFC, Chris Evans x OFC Word Count: 1595 Warnings: Mentions of divorce and abandonment. A/N: This fic was previously posted on my multi-fandom account; in honor of OC Appreciation Day, I figured I would queue it all up for your reading pleasure throughout the day! This was a collab with @captain-s-rogers , and I will link her chapters at the end of all of my posts! Some GIFs were difficult to find again, so if there’s no credit, they’re from Google Image Search or from the original post. 

June 12

Caroline,

My dear friend … you already sound like you’ve got it bad for this guy!! D.C. sounds amazing so definitely keep telling me about that, and the campaign, but don’t spare me on the tabloid-esque details, either!

Kidding, of course. I know you’re a professional, but don’t let that stop you from having a little fun while you’re out there — hmm, speaking of fun, no mention of Charlie in your first couple of letters. I want those details, too, missy.

Farm life has improved from that first day. Chris is warming up to me, I think, and I already can’t picture life without Layla in it. That little girl is going places, C, I’m telling you! Teaching her is more fun than work, and that’s on top of the fun we have throughout the rest of the day. I hate to break it to you, but I think I got the better deal this summer. No offense to your campaign of course ;)

Layla wants to sign her name at the bottom, as we have been practicing that. I’ve shown her pictures of you, and told her about your job. Chris and I watched the CNN bit, and Layla snuck out of bed — she can’t believe my best friend is working with the man on the TV!

I’ll send pictures of the farm and Layla with my next letter. Once little miss writes her name, we will be heading to town to get some fabric for her birthday dress — I made the mistake of telling her that my aunts used to make me dresses when I was younger and taught me how. We’ll see if I remember how to do this.

Yours truly,

Sadie

After Layla carefully etched out her name at the bottom of Sadie’s letter to Caroline, Sadie folded the page and put it in the envelope. She let Layla lick the adhesive, laughing at the girl’s nose crinkling in reaction to the bitter taste.

“Okay, letter’s in my purse, your daddy put your seat in my car … let’s see if we can find him and let him know we’re leaving,” Sadie suggested.

Chris was easy enough to find, sweaty and smiling at the girls’ presence. Just as she had told Caroline, Chris seemed to be warming up to Sadie. She figured it had been difficult to invite another woman into his home to care for his daughter, and Sadie chalked his initial attitude towards her up to that.

After looking at a few sewing patterns, Sadie found one that Layla liked, and even found one for herself. They combed through the bolts of different fabrics and, after Sadie convinced Layla that yes, flannel was so soft but not good for a summer dress, found a breathable cotton in Layla’s favorite shade of pink. Sadie took a little longer to look for her own fabric, finally settling on a creamy-colored cotton with a vintage floral design. They made their purchases, then headed over to the grocery store to get a few things for supper that evening.

“Adie, how many days till my birfday?” Layla asked on the trek back home.

Sadie mentally counted the days until July 1st. “About eighteen, sweetie. Almost three weeks.”

“That’s forever!” Layla whined.

Sadie chuckled. “It’ll go by before you know it. Besides, I’ve got to have time to make your dress.”

The child grew quiet in the backseat. Sadie hummed quietly, not daring to turn on the radio, as Layla would be talking again soon enough.

“Adie?”

She decided then and there she never wanted Layla to get her name right. “Yes?”

“Do you think my mama will come back for my birfday? She been gone a long time.”

Sadie’s heart broke. She had heeded Chris’s warning that Layla might bring up the subject of his ex-wife, but it had been a couple of weeks now, and nothing had been said. She could hear the tears in Layla’s voice, so she waited the couple of minutes until they were parked back in front of the house. She got Layla down from her seat and crouched in front of the small girl.

“Sometimes mommies and even daddies have to figure out how to be the best mommies and daddies they can be, Layla, so they go away for a while. Just like it seems like eighteen days is a long time till your birthday, I know it seems like she’s been gone forever, huh?” Layla nodded; a tear slipped down her cheek. “Don’t cry, sweetheart. Your mama is just trying to do what’s best for you.”

“What if she never comes back?” Layla cried.

Sadie couldn’t help it; she picked Layla up, resting the child’s head on her shoulder. “Then, as sad as it is, it just means that the best thing she can do for you is leave you here with your daddy.”

Layla nodded against Sadie’s shoulder but didn’t stop crying. Sadie held her until she quieted, realizing a few minutes later the child had fallen asleep. After putting Layla in her bed for an afternoon nap, she brought in the groceries and the purchases from the sewing store.  

No doubt this would break Chris’s heart too, but Sadie knew she would have to tell him about the conversation with Layla.

After supper, Sadie asked Chris to talk with her in the kitchen while Layla played with her toys in the living room and out of earshot. While she loaded the dishwasher, she quietly recounted her conversation with Layla about her mother coming back for her birthday.

“Damn it,” Chris muttered under his breath. He realized what he had said and checked to see that Layla hadn’t heard him curse. “Honestly, Sadie, she hasn’t talked to me about her mother once since you came. I don’t expect you to fix me or my daughter, but having you here has really been a blessing for us. Guess I was too hopeful about what that blessing meant.”

Sadie pushed the button to start the dishwasher before facing Chris. “I know it’s hard, for both of you, but you can’t just sweep it under the rug. Layla hasn’t talked to you about your ex-wife, but it doesn’t mean you shouldn’t talk to her about it — or at least let her know that she can talk to you about it. Maybe she needs to you to tell her that your love for her is bigger than your sadness over your wife leaving.”

Chris stared in Sadie’s direction for a few seconds before sucking on his teeth and giving a nod. Picking his mobile up from the counter, he asked Sadie to keep Layla inside for a while. He was out the front door before Sadie could answer him.

They had been playing for several minutes before they heard Chris yelling outside. Layla looked up at Sadie with wide eyes.

“Daddy’s mad.”

Sadie let out a sigh. “Go play in your room, sweetie.”

Layla did as she was told, and Sadie waited for her to disappear down the hall before stepping onto the front porch. Chris was standing at the bottom of the porch steps, shaking his head at the conversation.

“Em, it’s her birthday. She’s asking for you!” He paused, catching Sadie’s eye before quickly looking away. “I don’t need you back here for me. If you wanna run off with some big city accountant, that’s your business, but don’t leave your daughter in the dust without at least explaining to her. She’s four years old, but she’s gonna know you abandoned her!”

A couple of seconds later, he dropped the phone from his ear and kicked at the sidewalk that led up to the house.

“She hung up?” Sadie guessed.

Chris nodded. “She’s gonna be in Cancun for the first week of July. Won’t be able to come back for Layla’s birthday.”

Sadie pursed her lips and held back her anger. How could anyone leave behind a child as sweet as Layla, and not look back? Or a man as willing to work hard to love and support his family as Chris?

That last thought took her by surprise; Sadie quickly dismissed it and promised Chris that she would make sure Layla had the best birthday any five-year-old could ask for.

“I know I’m not her mom, but I can try my best.”

Chris smiled, coming up the steps. “I know you will. You’re really amazing with her, and she adores you, Sadie. I was serious when I said it was a blessing that you came to us.”

Sadie blushed and bit the inside of her cheek. He stopped two steps down, putting him right at eye level with her. “Well, you know, just doing my job. Layla’s easy to love.”

Chris opened his mouth to say something, seemed to think better of it, and shook his head instead. “We’ll find out what Layla wants for her birthday, and make it happen, the two of us. She’ll have no shortage of love that day. With any luck, she won’t even remember Emily’s gone.”

Sadie nodded, then something occurred to her. “When’s your birthday?”

Chris looked a little surprised by her question, but answered it anyway. “The twenty-first.”

“Maybe we’ll do something special for you, too,” Sadie smiled, somewhat teasing.

As she turned back in the house, she didn’t see Chris staring after her, wondering at the flutterings of his heart – not for the first time – when it came to the woman who had come to teach and care for his daughter.

Part Four

[dorkyungsoowrites]

Exo in "Game of Thrones" AU

Part of my crackhead saga in where I imagine the Exo members as characters in different universes they don't belong in for no reason other than fun.

Inspired by this post and this picture.

Minor spoiler warning if you haven't seen the show (obviously).

| Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 |

Minseok:

Training to be a maester. From Lys. Doesn't understand why the other acolytes are so fascinated with his stories of home. Was going to be a concubine but got sponsored by a noble to study instead. "It would be a crime against the gods to waste such a sharp, discerning mind on the pleasure houses." Is not ashamed of his beauty, but always fighting to prove he's more than only an object. Sometimes finds himself longing for the gorgeous twilight hours of home; holding his palm behind the candle on his work desk beside a tome. Imagining the flickering flame receding is the setting sun across the isle.

Junmyeon:

A knight of Tarth. Trained with Brienne. Got his ass kicked whenever he sparred with her. Loved every second of it. The Lord of Tarth likes having him stand next to him during hearings to intimidate the defendants. Can often be found "patrolling" the gardens. Will compose his loved one horrible poetry as a way to get them to laugh.

Yixing:

Fled from Yi Ti after accidentally assassinating a merchant prince. It wasn't his fault the guy fell and broke his neck getting out of a carriage, but no one else would accept his word on it. So he took all his wealth with him and now lives in hiding as a gardener in Sunspear. It's a dry heat as opposed to the humidity of the jungles, but otherwise much the same. Finds joy and solace in his well-tended landscape. The Prince of Dorne complimented his calla lily and anemone arrangement one time for it's likeness to the country's flag. Was devastated when Marcella died. She used to always say her favorite place was the gardens. He planted marigolds in her honor.

Baekhyun:

Born in the North. The real North. Clanmates joke about how it's a miracle he's managed to stay alive with such little meat on his bones. "You couldn't even pick your teeth with 'im." One of their best archers. Somehow always finds ways to keep their spirits up, even in the most dire situations. Hot springs are his favorite thing in the world. He would spend every night sleeping in one if he wouldn't drown. When all the clans join forces a few find it strange that he doesn't have his own tent, but instead shares with a different person almost every night, until they find out it's because he cuddles them for warmth. He just has such a strong bond with everyone in his clan that it's a normal thing. When they go South of The Wall they're amazed at how many women fawn over him. Struggles with the decision to return with his clan or stay South after The Great War.

Chanyeol:

The oldest squire in Westeros. Idolizes knights. Often pretending to sword fight with the back half of a broken jousting staff in between rounds. Had a few chances to prove himself, but could never actually win a fight. Always ended up with major injuries, one of which was self-inflicted. Would've died years ago, but his knights protect him out of compassion and brotherly bond. Much like Podrick without the swordsmanship skills. Gets treated like a brother-in-arms at tourneys by almost all the knights because he's just that well liked. Makes a mean rabbit stew.

Jongdae:

A noble in Essos. Known for his singing and harp playing at parties. Can't even drink a mouse under the table, but will try; resulting in exuberant dancing and laughter. Doesn't really understand the difference in times to be ridiculous versus serious, to the chagrin of his council. Once went undercover at a tourney in Westeros to test his musical skills against the finest minstrels. He lost, but losing to the Targaryean with the famed angelic voice wasn't so terrible. He's still yet to discover another voice so lovely that it moved him to tears. Loves lounging while eating peeled grapes on the balcony of his family's castle overlooking the grass plains that bleed into desert, and horseback riding. On quiet days he sits under the large tree in the garden that his childhood swing was tied to and composes songs about finding love one day.

Kyungsoo:

Grew up on an unremarkable farm in the North part of Westeros. Went out at a young age to travel. Has made it as far East as Volantis, as South as The Summer Isles, and as North as Braavos. Would have gone to The Port of Ibben and Asshai if it weren't for the Dothraki, and the fear of becoming a slave. His Northern blood eventually brought him back home where hard work, honesty and loyalty are paramount in character. Settled down between Winterfell and Moat Cailin. Works as a cook for a tavern there. Using all his knowledge he gained from other places, turning it into the only place travelers will stop on their journeys up and down the Kingsroad there. Famed for his cuisine. After word of his food spread whispers of him using magic grew. Saying he learned some sort of spellcasting while in the East. The secret is his friends in The Reach and Braavos. He travels to White Harbor to trade the best ingredients no others in the North can claim naturally. His biggest import is the fruit from Highgarden that's impossible to farm in the North, and spices the Braavosi have traded from just about everywhere else.

Jongin:

A dancer that travels in a troupe with other performers. Wears veils to cover his hair, nose and mouth. Says he learned in the Summer Isles so he can be an "exotic" dancer. Actually never traveled outside Dorne before joining the troupe. Doesn't speak much, but is known for the dance with seven skirts where-in by the end of the song all the skirts are laying on the floor. Has performed it at many nobles' parties at the behest of their wives, or where the husband said as much, anyway. Can always find him after performances laughing with the rest of the troupe at the local tavern. Enjoying the merriment and freedom of life.

Sehun:

Probably pissed off someone who hired mercenaries. Was gone before he could even fully gasp.

[meat-husband]

Bubba Sawyer - Alphabet Ask Meme

I’m hoping to start doing requests on this blog, so I thought I would start up with the alphabet ask memes as a sort of intro! I figure all the letters get asked eventually, so I’m just doing all of them in one go. There will be one of these posted for each character I’m writing.

I have a page with what and who I write for here.

Both the NSFW and fluff alphabet asks are under the cut!

NSFW Alphabet

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex)

Cuddles are mandatory – Bubba will pout and whine if you try to get out of it (why would you though, hug that boy). He can get clingy though, and won’t want to get up once you’re both settled.

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Obviously, Bubba loves his masks (yes they count as a bodypart, let him live!). He puts a lot of effort into them and would love for you to help style them.

When it comes to you, he’s in for the whole package. There’s not one thing he could pick above another (but he’s totally a leg man, fyi).

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person)

Let’s be honest, Bubba’s pull out game weak. He doesn’t care where he cums most of the time, but there’s a lot of it so even if he only meant to get it one place, it ends up everywhere.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

He would never admit to it or ask for it, but he’s put a lot of thought into hanging you from the meat hook in the kitchen and just keeping you there to use whenever he wants through the day. Obviously he wouldn’t hurt you, and it makes him feel guilty to even think of hanging you up like meat but he can’t stop thinking about it.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?)

Bubba is a sheltered baby, he’s got no idea what you’re talking about but he’s eager to go along with whatever you want. You’ll have to have a lot of patience if you want to cum with him though, it will take him a few tries to understand what to do.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual)

He likes when he can grab handfuls of you and just hold on. Lay on your side, one leg under him and one over his hip, and let him go to town. He can be as handsy as he wants this way, plus easy access to kisses, and it will keep him from hitting too deep in his enthusiasm.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)

Bubba is here to have fun. He’s going to laugh and smile and make silly faces to amuse you, he doesn’t get very serious unless he’s upset.

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.)

You can shower all you want, that house has no AC and he’s doing manual labor all day so he’s pretty much always sweaty. He’ll clean up when he gets too bloody, but otherwise you’ve just gotta put up with it until the next shower.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…)

Bubba is romantic in his own way. He’s already geared towards taking care of everyone else, so making you food, giving gifts and doing special things for you is just part of his personality. He doesn’t have much of an idea what romance is exactly, so if you want anything traditional, like a private dinner or date night, show him how it’s done by surprising him and he’ll pick up on it and return the favor.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Before he had a partner, it’s not something he would do often. Between Drayton’s anger and Nubbin’s teasing, he felt too guilty doing something so selfish. The thought doesn’t cross his mind once he’s got someone of his own though. Why do it alone when it’s so much more fun with you?

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

I think it's pretty common to headcanon Bubba with a breeding kink and I am all about that shit. But have you considered size kink Bubba, because I sure have! He’s a big boy and usually sort of self conscious about it, but seeing the comparison between the two of you makes him excited. It’s so easy to pick you up or to cover your body with his completely. The way you have to climb up him to sit in his lap, or how careful he has to be not to squish you under him. And he loves being the little spoon, with you trying and failing to wrap him up in your arms as well as he does to you.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

If his brothers are gone, anywhere is fair game. Most often it’s outside in the dirt or in the barn where the generator can cover up some of his noise. Otherwise it’s strictly in your room, door locked to keep wandering siblings out.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)

You’re not sure there’s anything that doesn’t turn him on, really. Something as small as eye contact or a smile has set him off before, so it’s safe to assume anything you do or say is motivation enough to send him your way with grabby hands and a tent in his pants.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

He wouldn’t say no to anything you ask him for, so you’ll have to figure out what he likes best and what he doesn’t want to do again. He’ll make it known right away if he’s uncomfortable with anything, squawking and waving his hands nervously.

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)

Absolutely loves it either way. Surprisingly, he picks up on using his mouth very quickly and it’s probably what he’s best at. Don’t expect him to sit still when you return the favor though, you can try and hold his hips down all you want but he can’t stop himself from thrusting up to meet your mouth.

P = Pace (Are they fats and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Bubba’s got no sense of the word ‘slow’ and even less of ‘gentle’. He’s not being rough or hurting you, but he’s fast and eager and the sooner he gets his cock in you, the happier he is.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

He doesn’t think of them too differently, sex is sex. Most of the time he won’t be able to spend as much time with you as he’d like, since there’s so much work to do around the farm, but it’s rather easy to distract him from his chores if you really want to - just make sure to help him catch up with them afterwards.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

He’ll gladly try whatever you want to, so long as you show him what to do. He’s too nervous to do anything too risky though, especially if there’s a chance of being caught by his brothers.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…)

Theoretically, he has to stop eventually. You have yet to find that point and you will definitely wear out before he does, but you’ll keep trying.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

That kind of shit would get sniffed out in a second and you’re not sure whether Nubbins or Drayton finding it would be worse.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He’s got no threshold for teasing, he gives in right away. Like yeah, he wants you to get all squirmy and beg for him, but he doesn’t have the willpower to not put his cock in you when you ask for it.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Drayton keeps a broom in the hallway to bang on the ceiling - it doesn’t work, but it makes him feel like he’s doing something.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

He is an expert at arts and crafts. He will constantly make you things, which is flattering until you realize he’s throwing out tooth and wire friendship bracelets left and right (Nubbins has 14 of them and will only wear them all at once, like a scrawny maraca). He’s already covered the living room in hot glued bones and tacky, handmade throw pillows. His crafting knows no bounds and he cannot be stopped.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?)

You’ve created a monster. There is no universe in which he is not ready to fuck you at a moments notice. He’s still trying to grasp the idea that maybe you need to rest sometimes.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Almost immediately. You’ve barely got time for some snuggles before he’s out. Good thing is he’s a deep sleeper, so it’s easy to get out of bed without waking him, but he’s extra grumpy if you do. Despite the body heat he puts off, you aren’t getting a sliver of blanket either, he’s already tangled in it and no amount of force can pull it away from him.

Fluff Alphabet

A = Attractive (What do they find attractive about the other?)

He wouldn’t be able to pick one thing. He feels amazingly lucky to have someone at all, let alone someone so perfect in every way.

B = Baby (Do they want a family? Why/Why not?)

It’s not the first thing on his mind, but he’s definitely aware that a baby is coming along sooner or later. He’s more worried than excited at the thought, since he’s the baby of the family and hasn’t experienced anything like it before. He’ll go into overdrive making things for the future baby once it’s a sure thing - pillows, blankets, footie pajamas. They might be a little macabre with all the human teeth and hair used in their production, but it’s the thought that counts.

C = Cuddle (How do they cuddle?)

Bubba is the champion of Extreme Cuddling™. Doesn’t matter where you are or what you’re doing, he’ll find some way to wrap himself around you. You’ve gotten used to doing the dishes with his arms around your waist and your feet dangling off the ground.

D = Dates (What are dates with them like?)

The most common are quick picnic dates, sitting in the shade behind the house and watching the sunflowers. Bubba won’t want to go too far from the house, but you might convince him to go down to the creek with you once he realizes you’re not going to be swimming in your clothing.

E = Everything (You are my ____ (e.g. my life, my world…)

Family. He was raised with the thought that there was family and there was food, and only those two groups. They’re the only things that matter and you take care of your family by providing food. Once he decides he wants you around, even if it’s not romantic yet, he automatically puts you in the first group.

F = Feelings (When did they know they were in love?)

Bubba falls fast - in the matter of a few weeks or less. His face is always red and he can’t stop knocking things over when you’re around and you caught him staring at you four times just during breakfast. Drayton tries to put a stop to it before anything can happen, but you’ve already figured it out and even if you’re not quite as far along as Bubba, it’s still adorable.

G = Gentle (Are they gentle? If so, how?)

He’s more clumsy than rough, so he might be a little awkward but still gentle. His fingers will get caught while petting your hair or he’ll throw you over his shoulder instead of picking you up in his arms.

H = Hands (How do they like to hold hands?)

He would much rather be holding on to another part of your anatomy tbh, but hands will do. Hand holding is fine if there’s no time for cuddling, but he likes being closer so he’ll still probably drape himself over you.

I = Impression (What was their first impression?)

He didn’t have much of an impression at first, he isn’t trying to make friends with the meat, you know. Once it’s clear you’re not for eating, though, he’s fairly happy about having someone new around, especially when you turn out to be so nice! He quickly develops a crush, and I mean quick - pretty girl said good morning to him? Heart eyes, motherfucker.

J = Jealous

He doesn’t really have anyone to be jealous of since you live with his family, and he likely wouldn’t think of such a thing as cheating on a partner. If a situation did occur where someone else was paying you special attention he’d probably get a little jealous and then you’d have a tantrum on your hands. He’d be extra protective afterwards, realizing that someone could try and steal you away.

K = Kiss (How do they kiss? Who initiated the first kiss?)

Bubba starts the first kiss, but you’ve got to stop him and show him what to do. It takes a few tries before he realizes that eating and kissing require two different techniques. He’s always going to be a messy kisser but it’s more out of enthusiasm than anything, he’s just so excited every time it happens.

L = Love (Who says ‘I love you’ first?)

Definitely Bubba. Maybe it’s not those exact words, you can’t really tell, but he’s pretty obvious about his affections from the beginning.

M = Memory (What’s their favourite memory together?)

Bubba does love when you surprise him with gifts, small things taken from victims or found in the crowded attic, or handmade love letters with big lipstick kisses. He keeps them all and likes to look at them sometimes, especially when you’re out in town with his brother, and remember how sweet it was to be given something special.

N = Nickel (Do they spoil? Do they buy the person they love everything?)

If he ever finds out that there is something you want or need, he’s gonna do his best to provide it. It might be a handmade version, possibly containing some human material, but he tried his best so you can’t turn it away. He does like to dress you both up for dinner sometimes, keeping dresses and skirts for you to wear and sharing his make up and jewelry.

O = Orange (What colour reminds them of their other half?)

Purple. It’s his favorite color and he loves to dress you in it. That blouse is the ugliest thing you’ve seen in your life and it does not match those pants in any way, but it makes Bubba happy so you will gladly suffer these crimes against fashion.

P = Pet names (What pet names do they use?)

Bubba loves pet names! He definitely has some for you, although you can’t exactly understand them. You tend to call him sweet things like honeybun or sweetie pie and he loves it. You may not be doing it on purpose, but it sort of amuses him that the names are all food based.

Q = Quaint (What is their favorite non-modern thing?)

The most up to date thing they own is probably the old, beaten up truck Drayton drives (which Bubba is strictly forbidden from messing with). The rest of the house is pieced together with messy repairs from years of family life and everything in it is about as new as the house itself. The Sawyers are old fashioned and tend to use and recycle everything the family has ever owned, whether that be clothes or furniture.

R = Rainy Day (What do they like to do on a rainy day?)

There’s still work to be done no matter the weather, but if he can get away with it then he’s sleeping in for once. He hates getting out of bed in the mornings, having to slide you off his chest and untangle himself from the blankets is hard to do when you’re so warm and comfy.

S = Sad (How do they cheer themselves/others up?)

He’s like a worried mother hen anyways, so when anyone is feeling bad he’s extra jittery, flapping his hands and muttering and offering food or small gifts to try and make them feel better. Drayton tends to wave him off with a snarl and you can’t say that you’ve ever seen Nubbins acting like anything other than manically excited. You let him tend to you however he wants, more to soothe him than yourself, but watching him run around trying to cheer you up tends to get you smiling anyways.

When he’s upset himself he’s actually really easy to take care of, as any amount of positivity will draw him out of a bad mood quickly. Cuddling and soft praise or even just taking a short nap together will turn his day around.

T = Talking (What do they like to talk about?)

You cannot understand a word of his babbling but he will go on for hours regardless. Sometimes it’s easy enough to understand what he’s trying to get across, but you don’t know how his brothers seem to know exactly what that gurgle means in detail. He’s patient with you though and doesn’t get upset when you’ve got to resort to charades.

U = Unencumbered (What helps them relax?)

Snuggling up on the couch and listening to the old radio (if you can keep the other two from messing with it). Really, any kind of snuggles are fine, but the tinny white noise in the background is extra relaxing.

V = Vaunt (What do they like to show off? What are they proud of?)

Bubba is very proud of the work he does for the family. He isn’t a great cook by any means, he can’t exactly bring in the meat himself and he’s not very diligent about cleaning but no one else can do the butchering or the heavy lifting. Anything he can do to contribute, even just helping you with the dishes, makes him happy.

W = Wedding (When, how?)

You’re probably not going to go down to the courthouse, but there will be a wedding of sorts. Drayton isn’t the most traditional person when it comes to things like this, but he’ll be the one pushing for some sort of celebration. After all, you’re part of the family now so they might as well make it as official as they can.

X = Xylophone (What’s their song?)

He’s not picky with music, he’ll listen to whatever is on the radio. His brothers fight over the station, changing the channel the moment the other one leaves the room, but he always likes whatever it gets left on so he doesn’t touch it.

Y = Yes (Do they ever think of getting married/proposing?)

He doesn’t really understand marriage, since it’s not like he’s out of the house much and grandma has been dead for years. He moves pretty quick in how seriously he takes your relationship though, going from ‘puppy love’ to ‘absolutely devoted’ in a short amount of time. Once you get to anything more serious than shy glances he’s pretty much hooked for life tbh.

Z = Zebra (If they wanted a pet, what would they get?)

Bubba has never met an animal he didn’t like, so he’d take anything Drayton would let him get away with. The chickens in the yard are his favorites, but he’s strangely okay with killing them when the time comes.

[ciaoalex]

Weeks 4 & 5 (oops!) - Milan and Naples

Time goes by crazy fast here, and I accidentally skipped a week of blogging! So here are two weeks compiled into one post.

Last weekend, I went to Milan with Lina. I absolutely loved the city; it was a combination of Rome and New York, so I felt at home with the hint of modern, American culture, but still felt like I was in Italy! Of course, I adored the fashion capital and loved strolling past countless designer stores (not going in them of course, since I have the budget of a college student :( maybe next time..). Our first stop in Milan was the Leonardo da Vinci Museum of Science and Technology. It turns out that I really had no idea who Leonardo da Vinci was (oops), but it was an absolutely fascinating museum! It was so interactive, and Lina and I ran around like children trying out all the different games and simulations in each exhibit. Afterwards, we settled into our AirBnb, did some sightseeing, and some shopping, of course. That night was Valentine’s, so we went out for a romantic dinner by the canal and got drinks. The next day, we went to the Duomo, which was absolutely breathtaking. Hands-down one of the most amazing things I have ever seen in my life; I could’ve stared at it for hours. 

While at the Duomo, we experienced our first scam. The piazza was filled with hundreds of pigeons, and a man offered to take our picture with some of the pigeons. Knowing that many people here try to trick you into paying for things, we politely declined. Then, he said it would just be 3 euro for a photo, so Lina convinced me to do it (please note that it was not my idea!). He ended up turning it into a photoshoot, telling us to do different poses, and taking 26 photos. Afterwards, he just walked up to us and said “81 euros please!” Turns out, it was 3 euro PER photo, but we only asked for one! We fought with him for a good fifteen minutes. I thought about running, but there was a pretty big group of his scammer friends surrounding us. Once he started to get angry and a little aggressive, we gave him a final offer of 30 euro total. We handed him the money and ran away ashamed and embarrassed since the whole fiasco happened in front of thousands of people. Check out the photos that we got, which I posted on the blog and Facebook (as you can see, I was petrified and very grossed out by the pigeons). We decided to save the Duomo for another day (bad memories, ya know?), and explore other parts of Milan. We took a bus tour and spent the afternoon looking at different parts of the city.

The next day, we tried the Duomo again, with no scams this time! We entered the cathedral first, which was incredibly moving. I was almost brought to tears as soon as I got inside. I can’t explain what exactly connected with me so much, but I definitely felt God in that church. I lit a candle for my late Grandpa Joe, honoring a beautiful person inside the most beautiful church I have ever entered. We climbed to the top of the Duomo, which was a dream. I felt like I was in a castle! Afterwards, we went to a cocktail bar overlooking the Duomo, and got drinks made by a robot. Then, we headed home on our overnight bus and got ready for another week of class!

This week, I discovered the beauty of alone time. Although I usually love being around others 24/7, this experience has been a lot to process and appreciate without a quiet moment to sit and think (also why I’m always so bad at keeping up with my blog!). I pushed myself to take a few afternoons to myself and sat by the Colosseum and journaled. Taking time to come back to myself made a huge difference in my whole perspective and attitude for the rest of the week!

On Friday, we embarked on a class excursion (basically a weekend field trip!) to Naples. I went with my International Finance class, and we were paired with the Food Studies class. The professors that took us are childhood best friends and grew up in Naples, so they were super knowledgeable and enthusiastic about everything there. Also, since we went with a food class, we got to eat awesome food all weekend! We stayed in a hostel, which turned out to be like a 5-star hotel. There was even a jacuzzi! I befriended a few Italian girls in my class a few weeks ago, so Lina and I stayed in a room with them. I love hanging out with them and getting to talk about our different cultures. First, we went to a castle, which had amazing views of Naples. We took a very long walk throughout the neighborhoods to get a feel for the area. Then, we had a dinner in a traditional Napolean house, where street performers came and taught us some traditional songs and dances. It was odd at first, but once everyone dug into the bottomless wine, we really enjoyed ourselves! Then, we got free time, which we spent getting to know the Italian girls and some other people in our program. Afterwards, we went to a really nice dinner, where we had delicious Naploean pizza! We explored the nightlife and had lots of fun dancing the night away with our friends!

The next morning, we visited two farms. The first one was pretty boring (it was a social cooperative), but the second one was AMAZING. We were greeted by a huge lunch that was sooo delicious. This farm was a buffalo farm, so we got to walk around, learn about Bufala Mozzarella (a very famous cheese in Italy), and feed the buffaloes!! I had the time of my life bonding with the buffaloes. After they saw me kissing and hugging the buffaloes, everyone in the program told me AGAIN that I should be a farm girl! Little do they know, I am far from that! Lastly, we stopped at a winery, got to learn about the winemaking process, and got to sample some of the wine. We headed home and I jumped right in bed for an early night. The weekend was SO fun, but it was exhausting!

On Sunday, I went to the zoo in Rome with Lina and Sam, another one of my roommates. If you know me, you know that I absolutely love zoos, so this was a great day for me. We spent probably an hour just watching monkeys and got to see some turtles “making love” in front of an audience of children, which was hilarious. 

The past two weeks here have been amazing. I definitely feel at home in Rome now, but have been SO busy! Schoolwork has been the last thing on my mind, which is also unnatural for me, so I need to go catch up on the past three weeks of work that I haven’t started! Oops.. Thanks for reading about my travels if you are still reading all of this! See you next week!

[butteredsims-blog]

THE GAME OF LIFE LEGACY CHALLENGE!

So I created a little legacy challenge. I wanted to explore more of the expansion and stuff packs so some of these require more than the base game! Every generation has its own rules and goals, then on top of that each generation you will randomly roll for a “Bump in the road” AND a “Good Karma.” They are extra challenges you have to complete before the end of that generation! Its kind of like when you play ‘the game of life’ and you draw those random cards like “go to jail” or “Child goes to dentist, pay 500 dollars” you know like that! 

If you would like to find out more then please keep reading! If you play go ahead and tag me so I can see your stories and share this post around so we can see if anyone does it!! IT IS KIND OF LONG IM SORRY, SINCE ITS TEN GENERATIONS ITS KINDA HARD TO MAKE IT NOT LONG. 

GENERATION ONE

PICTURE PERFECT - - - Create your founder. You may also create a potential significant other in the same game, but they have to be on a separate lot. You may set them up in a house, and give them a job but you then must leave and go back to your founders gameplay. They have to meet by chance after that; if you dont organically meet them you must choose someone else you organically meet as your significant other. If you use a townie, you CAN give them a makeover but that is the only way you can use cheats; since I know everyone loves to make their sims pretty.

You may buy / download / build a tiny house for 10,000. Then use the testingcheats on cheat, and type in "money 1000". This will be your starting funds for your founder. You left home as a very young adult right after high school, ready to make your own life with just the small nestegg of 11,000 simoleons that your parent/guardian gave you as a graduation gift.

Now comes the fun part. It is time to start your legacy, this generation is going to be a little more laid back just to ease you into it. It is time to find a job! You may NOT use any cheats for promotions or money. You may sell things that you create/collect/grow or that you make from a hobby.

CAREERS: You may do any career you like, but keep in mind the other generations will have careers chosen by the challenge. So I would suggest doing something not in the later generations just to keep things spicy. You must make it to the end of the career before your heir of choice reaches young adult hood!

FAMILY & LOVE: It is time to find your one true love. In this generation you are only allowed ONE lover for your whole life. You must marry them, have children with them, and you may not divorce them at any point. Even if they start to hate each other later. (which would make a good simstory!) You must have 3 children, your favorite child may be the heir it is your choice for this generation.

CHILDREN: At least two of your children have to be at least B students in elementary school, and in high school. STUDY STUDY STUDY.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION TWO

THEY'RE THE WORST - - - You spent your whole life being perfect for your parents, and now you are just sick of it. You marry the worst person you can find, and you have ASSHOLE children with him. All except one, your youngest child which will become your heir. Unlike the other children they will make good grades, and always be the sweet behaved one.

CAREER: You happen to be in the criminal career and your worthless significant other is jobless and a sloppy couch potato. You must reach at least level 5 of this career before your heir (your youngest child) becomes a young adult and starts the next generation.

FAMILY & LOVE: Before you get married and have kids, you are having a real hard time finding the one. You are married at least twice in this generation and divorced at least once. You may have kids with your first spouse but your heir must from from your last spouse.

CHILDREN: All of your children except your youngest/heir have to make bad grades, act up, be rude, ect. Your youngest/heir must make at least a B or more in elementary and high school and is not allowed to have any boyfriend/girlfriend until they have reached young adult and begin the next generation.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION THREE

ECO FRIENDLY - - - For this generation you refuse to conform to the norm. You spend most of your time out doors, camping or growing crops on your land. I would say farm but SIMS HASN'T GIVEN US FARM ANIMALS YET. If you have seasons you must have a scarecrow and befriend it until it can finally come to life! Why? BECAUSE IT IS A COOL FEATURE. You may sell your crops for money. You may not have a washer or dryer, you have to wash your clothes in the washing tub. You are also a minimalist and prefer not to have tvs, radios, computer, ect. You must also have a cow plant, and it must eat at least two strangers! If not, I guess it's not a fail. Just for fun!

CAREER: You will be living off the land, in other words you will not have a regular job/career. You will make money by selling crops you grow, things you collected, or things you have crafted. Your spouse my have a regular job.

FAMILY & LOVE: You can get married or divorced as many times as you want, it is totally up to you. You can have a good relationship or a bad one depending on whatever you want to do for your generation.

CHILDREN: You must have at least two children, one will be more of the country/southern down home punch type while the other will be more scientific and very intelligent. The scientific child will be your heir, it does not matter if it is the youngest or the oldest. Your heir for this generation must be a male! You may have more than two children.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION FOUR

BUTT PROBING - - - All your child hood you loved the idea of technology, and reading books about it but your family was wildly against it. So your dream was to be a scientist and one day reach the alien world of Sixam! (Need GTW for this generation!) In this generation one of your main goals is to get abducted and impregnated by an alien. Thats right. We are bringing aliens into this shit. CAREER: Reach the end of the scientist career and max out the rocket ship skill. Your spouse my have any job. You must build a satellite to get abducted by aliens you may not use the cheat to get a satellite.

FAMILY & LOVE: You may marry. It would be more fun to marry an alien but that is up to you! Your spouse my have any job or none that is completely up to you.

CHILDREN: The alien baby will be your heir, no matter what gender it is. You may have other children and they may be human or adopted it is completely up to you. The heir must be a happy go lucky child that is bubbly and sweet while the other children are just normal or whatever you want them to be.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION FIVE

BAKERS DOZEN - - - It's time to get to cookin'! Your alien baby from your last generation is itchin' to start their own bakery and man do they love to cook. Savory & sweet. Try your hardest to make enough money to start your own little bakery. You also must max out all skills that are cooking, baking, gourmet cooking, ect. Every Sunday you have to have a family dinner cooking a gourmet meal and baking at least one desert.

CAREER: You can join the culinary career to make money until you have enough to start your own bakery then you must quit and make your money just from your bakery! You must have GTW for this generation.

FAMILY & LOVE: No rules when it comes to spouse, you can do whatever you want or marry who ever you want and get married or divorced as many times as you want. Though in my opinion since your sim for this generation is so happy and sweet they should be looking for 'the one' and probably only marry one person but thats just what I think!

CHILDREN: Must have at least one child. Your heir should be very brooding and dark, such as a loner or maybe even a borderline goth. He hates that his parent is so happy go lucky and they are more sinister than sweet. They can make good grades or not, it is up to you!

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION SIX

THE LOVE BITE - - - That brooding baby is all grown up now, and man are they ready to move on with their life! They decided to settle down in a town called Forgotten Hollow. After years of searching the web as a loner teenager they have discovered that Forgotten Hollow is crawling in vampires, and they think the vampires are the only ones who will understand his achy heart and accept them for one of their own. Your life goal is to become the most powerful vampire around! (Must have Vampire expansion pack for this generation.)

CAREER: Career isn't very important in this generation, you can do whatever you like for money! Or you can be homeless for all I care and find yourself a rich vampire to shack up with. Sounds legit. Mmn.. Bill Compton... anyways!

FAMILY & LOVE: You find yourself falling in love with a neighborhood vampire, spending most of your time with them letting them feed on you because lets face it you are a weirdo. Eventually you convince them to change you into a vampire so you can finally become the powerful being you were meant to be!

CHILDREN: You can either have a child with the vampire while you are human or vampire. It depends on if you want your next generation to be vampire or not. If you become a vampire then have a baby with your vampire spouse it is 100% that you will have a vampire child. If you are human when doing so it is only 50% likely the baby will become a human this part is all up to your preference! Your heir must be male.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION SEVEN

STARVING ARTIST - - - You are the most creative sim on the block, and you know exactly how to channel your creativeness into making a profit. Wether you are just an insightful painter or a jack of all trades you are always working on something that will soon become a master piece, with the dream of selling art and becoming your own boss. Everything inspires you!

CAREER: You may not have a career or job. You may only do paintings or other hobbyist things to make money. Such as painting or sculpting. You may use other ways to make money on the side such as gardening, collecting ect.

FAMILY & LOVE: Because everything inspires you, you have multiple lovers. You have gotten a couple women pregnant already but you don't some very interested in raising them since you fall in and out of love every time you meet someone new. Eventually you find 'the one' and settle down and actually start a family.

CHILDREN: Your heir can be any gender, but it must be from the union of your marriage and not a love child from one of the women you knocked up in your 'stallion days'!

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION EIGHT

DOCTOR DOLITTLE - - - This is for all my sims 4 pets lovers out there, and it was requested by my sister! You must have the pets expansion pack. Your father was a starving artist and he didn't make that much money but you want so much more for your family; and you also have a healthy obsession with animals. You must own at least one cat and one dog, challenging right? Knowing you wont ever make the money you can go out and get yourself a business loan so you can open your own vet clinic! You must maintain a successful vet clinic while keeping your family happy and having positive relationships with each family member and pet. Subtract 500 dollars every Friday from your family funds to pay back your loan until your heir reaches the age of teenager. For example if you have 1500 simoleons in your family funds you will type in the cheat 'money 1000' which will set your family funds to 500 simoleons less than what it was before you made your payment. WE KNOW LOANS CAN BE A KILLER! MAKE THAT MONEY!

FAMILY & LOVE: Must have at least two children but you may have as many as you like, your youngest child will be your heir you may not choose a child.

CHILDREN: Your heir can have any traits you want BUT they must have the family oriented trait!

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION NINE

THE SINGLE PARENT - - - Did you know that there are approximately 13.7 million single parents in the U.S.? That number represents approximately 26% of children under 21 in the U.S. today. This generation is for all the kids like me that grew up with a single parent. Having the Parenthood expansion is helpful but not required! You will spend this generation supporting your child and doing as many things/activities with them that you possibly can.

CAREER: You may have any career you like, this part is completely up to you just keep in mind it needs to leave you enough time to spend with your child because that is the challenge after all is balancing work and family!

FAMILY & LOVE: This generation you will only have ONE child and you may not be married or dating. For story purposes you can marry, have a child, and then divorce but they have to move out!

CHILDREN: If you happen to have twins you can choose which one is your heir. You must have a full positive relationship with your child by the time they become a teenager and keep it that way into young adulthood.

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

GENERATION TEN

CONGRATS SIMMER!! - - - Wow you did it! That was a roller coaster huh? For this last generation you will be wrapping up this little adventure (unless you grew attached to the legacy, by all means keep going!) To reward you for even making it this far this generation is going to be whatever you want it to be! What have you been wanting to explore in the sims? What have you not done yet? Lets think outside the box. You still must do a bump in the road and a good karma!

BUMP IN THE ROAD: Use the random dice/number generator website provided, roll a number 1-10. Find the number in the list below entitled "bump in the road" you must do this sometime in the generation before your heir becomes a young adult. You will do one for each generation.

GOOD KARMA: Same as bump in the road but you choose from the list provided called 'good karma'.

BUMP IN THE ROAD

(If you get something that doesn't correlate correctly with your generational challenges, roll again!)

1: DEATH IN THE FAMILY: You must kill off someone in your family, not including your current heir/founder, and your future heir for that generation. You must do this before your heir reaches young adult hood. Number off your other family members (husband/wife, and other children) roll the random dice which will be linked at the bottom of the post. YOU MUST KILL OFF WHO EVER CORRELATES WITH THE RANDOM NUMBER YOU ROLLED. NO CHEATING. If you use this in generation one, and you kill off your significant other; you may not remarry.

2: UNEXPECTED EXPENSE: Uh oh, something went wrong. Wether it's an overdue bill, an unexpected traffic ticket, or a medical emergency; something always happens and we end up broke AGAIN. Subtract 800 simoleons from your family funds. Broke now? That sucks. Part of life.

3: WE'VE BEEN ROBBED!: Some low life broke into your house while you were gone! They took every piece of movable furniture. This excludes large kitchen appliances (fridge, stove, sink, dishwasher ect.) Bathroom furniture (sinks, shower/bath, toilets, ect.) everything else is completely gone. You must delete all the rest of your furniture but keep track of your funds before hand. After you have deleted the furniture type in the cheat 'money moneyamounthere' and replace the exact amount of money you had BEFORE you deleted all your furniture. For example if you had 500 simoleons before the furniture, but 1800 after deleting your furniture you will type in the cheat 'money 500'.

4: SLOW N' STEADY WINS THE DIVORCE: Things become stale in the bed, you start to fight more and more every day with your spouse. Slowly but surely you begin to resent each other. Make your sim and their spouse fight, argue, insult each other SLOWLY build up a negative relationship with them until it reaches enemy status and you are forced to divorce. As a slap in the face you are left with all of the kids, and once a week you must pay spousal support of 150 simoleons a week DON'T FORGET TO PAY OR THEY WILL COME TO COLLECT AND START A FIGHT! If you roll this and you are on GENERATION ONE, you must reroll. You may remarry.

5: DIPSHIT ADOPTION: Your druggy uncle just called from prison. He's at it again, and he got the life sentence. Guess what you get out of it? His devil spawn. You must adopt a toddler, try to get one with negative traits such as hotheaded, loner, slob, ect. Have either a negative relationship with the child, or a neutral one. Make them act out such as make messes, fail classes, skip school, start fights, ect. As they age up you cannot give them positive traits such as good, family oriented, neat, ect. This child may not be killed, you must keep it until your heir becomes of age and you move on to the next generation. SORRY.

6: UP IN FLAMES: Guess who left the stove on, thats right, it was you. You can either some how light your house on fire WITHOUT killing anyone, OR you can take the easy way out and bulldoze your entire lot. If you light your house on fire you must let it burn without putting it out; remember there are no firefighter NPCs in the sims 4. I don't know how much the fire spreads so thats on you guys. IF you just bulldoze your entire lot you may not give yourself any extra money, you must basically start over with whatever funds you have left, because obviously you didn't get home owners insurance, that bites. No family members die in the fire.

7: LETTING YOURSELF GO: So you got depressed, and you ate all the ice cream. Again. With cake. Needless to say, the pounds keep packin' on. You must gain weight. There are many ways in the game you can do so, you just have to look them up because I aint yo mama. You may not exercise. That's it. You're a liddol fluffy now and their ain't no goin' back. SORRY, THAT'S HOW THE COOKIE CRUMBLES. You may not roll again, don't be a pansy and just eat some cake. You thiccccc.

8: WHEN IT RAINS IT POURS: Nah I ain't talkin' about the weather. You're spouse left you, and it went surprisingly in your favor and he didn't take all your money! But now you are on the prowl lookin' for a new boo. You had a night out on the town and met yourself a tall drink of water who said they had a PHAT bank account. After falling in fake love to get their money one sad morning you wake up and that tall drink of water poured all over your already sad life by draining your bank account. You are left with nothing but whats in your NOT phat wallet. (300 simoleons) Shit happens bro, stop bein' a ho.  If you already have children you may add an extra 100 simoleons for each child you have. For example if you have 3 kids you will have 600 simoleons left in your family funds. If your generation requires you be married to the same person the whole time, roll again.

9: THE GAME OF LIFE: You just keep messing up don't cha? From here on out any time you're given a prompt for your career and the results effect you negatively, you have to take 100 simoleons out of your family funds. Sucks huh? maybe you shouldn't fuck around at work or get on your bosses bad side. Sorry buddy, get your shit in line!

10. NO BABIES 4 U: Want to have children of your own with your spouse? Too bad so sad. Any children you have must be adopted, no trying for a baby in that bush for you! They must be at the lowest age that is adoptable. No name changes, you may change their appearance (clothing, hair, accessories, ect.) but not race/skin-tone/facial features. (does not apply if you are in the first generation, roll again.)

GOOD KARMA

(If you get something that doesn't correlate correctly with your generational challenges, roll again!)

1: FOUND SOME CHEDDAR: Just walkin' down the street mindin' your own business, singin' your favorite song, you look down and what do you see? 100 simoleon bill! You look around and notice nobody is looking.. so what do you do? You grab that shit and run. CONGRATS!~

2: TO YOU, FROM THE STORK: As if you didn't have enough kids already, one night your spouse rolls over in bed and begs you to have yet another child with their crazy ass. And what do you say? SURE WHY NOT. You will add another child to the required amount of children for this generation. For example; if the generation requires you have three children, you must now have 4.

3: POT O' GOLD: Thanks family member i've never met! You just got a letter in the mail letting you know your great great great grand- whatever, just left you 10,000 simoleons in their will. LOOK AT YOU MOVIN' UP IN THE WORLD. Thanks whatever your name is!

4: EARLY RETIREMENT: WOW! Your boss must either really like you, or really want you out of the way. He/She just gave you enough money to retire early! Give your self 200,000 simoleons and quit yo job! (You must wait until atleast level 6 of your current career before you are eligible to cash dat phat check!) If the gernerational rules require you complete your profession you must roll again, SORRY BRUH.

5: FAMILY VACATION: The hustle and bustle of the town/city life is really grinding down your family. If you don't have two days off in a row, call in sick and take your family on a camping trip! Must stay at least one night. If you do not have outdoor retreat, just take a couple days off and spend some quality time with the fam bam.

6: ANGEL ADOPTION: Wow, the nest sure is gettin' empty. It's time to stock that shit back up. Adopt yourself another bundle of joy at the precious age of toddler. You must do this after all of your kids are grown to at least teen stage, no matter which child you chose for your heir THINK AGAIN. Because this liddol angel is now your only chance at a decent heir. You may give them a make over to look any way you want, and you may choose who you adopt. They cannot have negative traits, but they are the sweetest thing since great grammys cherry pie. Must have all A's in elementary and high school.

7: CHANGE OF PACE: Sometimes you just need new scenery. Your whole family came together and decided it was time to sell that house, and move to a new town! You must have a whole new house you may buy one or build one it is your choice. I suggest selling all your furniture from the previous house to put towards your new house!

8: ADOPT A FURBABY: Whether you already have a pet or not you must get another. You may adopt from your phone or computer, OR you may adopt a stray! Any breed or animal. BUT you may not change their gender, name, or appearance. Never fret, you may have more than one pet.

9: THE DEAN'S LIST: You must be either really smart, or really talented. Why? Because you were just awarded a scholarship to you college of choice. Using a cheat code at the beginning of your generation you may promote yourself TWICE at the beginning of your first career as if you had attended college and gotten a better starting position/salary. The cheat code is 'careers.promote careername' for example if you are an astronaut you will type in 'careers.promote astronaut' TWICE.

10: HIDDEN ADVENTURE: Okay i'm sorry kiddos, you are gonna have to do a little researching for this one! In this generation you have to uncover your towns hidden location/secret area. For example if you live on Oasis Springs the Forgotten Grotto has two different entrances that can only be accessed by Sims that have level 10 in the Handiness skill. The entrances can be found in Desert Bloom Park –far behind the park– and also down the cliff behind the Landgraab Mansion. A surprise awaits. They aren't hard to find if you google them and they are so interesting!

Let’s use the tag #LifeGameLegacy so I can see your liddol babies doing my challenge! You can find the random number generator here. 

[visionshadows]

Born to Run

For the @sidgeno-fluff-fest prompt of puppies. Entirely 100% because I spend a lot of time following Blair Braverman and Quince Mountain on Twitter. Musher Twitter is fun! 

The snow crunches under Sid’s boots, the sky still dark and the stars heavy above. The sun won’t rise for another hour, but by then the dogs will all be fed and ready to go. He can hear Geno in the barn, whistling tunelessly to himself as he gets the sled ready.

“Hey babies,” Sid murmurs as he scoops a mixture of meat broth and kibble into the first bowl he comes to - Gretzky’s since his house is closest to the barn. “Time to rise and shine.”

A few of the dogs are already out of the houses, whining for their breakfast. Manon is singing. The yearlings are the slowest to wake and Sid reaches into the house to scratch Masha under the chin. “Come on, precious. Time to get up and eat breakfast. You’re going on a run today.”

They all want to run, every last dog, and Sid hates when they have to leave any of them behind. Soon they’re all fed and jumping around on their leads, howling and ready to go. Geno’s got the sled out and packed for today’s run. The Canadian Challenge is three weeks away and Geno’s got to do a hundred miles today.

They work in unison, getting the booties on the dogs who are running today. The older dogs are a little better at standing still than the younger ones. Flower still dances around like he’s a yearling even though he’s 8 and has been running on Sid and Geno’s teams his whole life. The whole goalie litter is a little crazy. Manon is the only one who can be trusted which is why she’s Geno’s lead dog.

The sun is just peeking over the trees when the dogs are all hitched to the sled and Geno is ready to go. Manon and Masha are leaping and howling in front.

Geno taps Sid in the chest and they do their handshake. Sid gives him a kiss and Geno slaps him in the ass, making Sid laugh.

“Love you,” Geno says roughly, one of the first things he’s said that morning. Sid reaches up to pat his face once more with a thick glove. Geno pretends to bite at it.

“Go on. I’ll see you when you get back.”

Geno grins and pulls up his neck warmer before shouting “let’s go!” The dogs take off with a flying leap and the sled jerks forward. Sid watches them go until he can’t see them any longer. He stamps his feet a few times and then turns back to the dogs left in the yard. There’s work to be done.

Sid’s 18 when he meets Geno, shaking hands with him, snowblind from the glacier and half asleep from the time change between Norway and Alaska. It’s Geno’s third summer on the glacier, giving tourists a taste of Alaska without any of the mess. Sid’s not quite sure what he’s doing here. He just knew he wasn’t ready to go home.

He’s got a team of twenty dogs of his own and he loves each and every one of them immediately. He takes his time getting to know them, feeling them out as best he can even though he’s got to start giving tours the next morning. Geno gives him tips on which dogs are the best in lead, which work best as wheel dogs, which ones are lazy.

Sid thanks him and Geno grins at him, wide and warm and Sid feels like he made the right choice.

The first day is long and exhausting and when the evening comes, Sid’s arms and legs feel like rubber. His throat is sore from talking and his lips are cracked. All the dogs are rubbed down and fed and taken care of. All he wants to do is go sleep forever.

Geno catches him though and grabs Sid’s arm. “Come. Have to eat.”

Sid wrinkles his nose and shakes his head. “I would rather get some sleep.”

“Have to eat,” Geno insists. “Can’t take care of dogs if don’t take care of self. Food is first. Then sleep.”

Geno shoves him into the meal tent and Sid meets the rest of the mushers and handlers. There’s only thirty people on the glacier at any given time, thirty people, two hundred dogs, and an ever-changing landscape of ice. It probably won’t hurt to listen to Geno and eat.

A few days later, Geno’s sitting next to him as Sid repairs a harness and Geno’s sipping tea from a thermos. It’s as quiet as it gets on the glacier, dogs are barking, people are talking.

“Want my own team someday,” Geno says after a while. “Don’t really like this.”

Sid looks over at him and nods. “Yeah, I want to race.”

“My family think I’m crazy,” Geno laughs, shaking his head. “They say, spend all my time with dogs. Like cold too much. Never go home to Russia again.”

“You can run dogs in Russia,” Sid points out, smoothing the harness before putting it aside.

Geno sips his tea. “Can. Could never be in love in Russia so I stay in US or Canada. They understand that, just not dogs.”

“Oh,” Sid looks at his knees. He wiggles his toes inside of his boots. They’re warm and cozy. He gently knocks his shoulder into Geno’s, layer upon layer. “Same. But my parents understand about the dogs.”

Sid’s a writer as well as a musher and he spends his post-chore time working on an article for Outdoor Life and updating Twitter. He hates social media, but Geno convinced him that it’s a necessary evil. They have a ton of followers and they use Patreon to help defray costs to keep the team running.

People love the dogs and they love Geno so Sid mostly films them and talks about things that they do. He’s honest about the less than savory parts of their life, from picking up shit to chopping up raw meat. He posts video of Geno handing out beaver tails to the dogs after a long run.

On their 4th wedding anniversary, Sid posted a picture of them from the glacier, young and smiling, both of them with goggle tans and squinting from the glare off the ice, Geno’s arm slung over Sid’s shoulders. He’d captioned it with Happy Anniversary, Zhenya. Both he and Geno had lost hundreds of followers, gained hundreds more, received lots of hate and made it to twitter moments.

That’s kind of why Sid hates social media, but he continues to use it. Mostly he’s annoyed because he wrote a book and it’s not like he danced around the issue of Geno. He wrote about their wedding in the book. It’s a damn good book too.

Geno posts a video from the trail, the dogs running and Geno narrating what is going on, breathing heavily, but happy at the same time. Sid watches and then reposts. Callie, their only indoor cat, climbs into his lap and curls up for a nap. He strokes her with one hand as he goes over his lists for the Canadian Challenge.

Geno’s got to do this one alone since he’s using it as a qualifier for the Iditarod. No help at checkpoints, all care by the musher only. Sid can’t do anything to help once the race starts. He can prepare everything ahead of time though. Mostly he’s worried about Geno’s feet. His boots are good, but the temperatures in Saskatchewan can get down to -40.

He’s browsing arctic gear and listening to a podcast about the mating habits of elk when the phone rings. It startles Callie and she takes off, leaving Sid’s lap in a burst of fluff.

It’s Geno and Sid answers with a grin, “Hey babe.”

“Just watched Ovi shit on Shannon while we run and made me think of you.”

Sid laughs loudly and leans back in his chair. “You say the cutest things.”

“At least he not stop team to shit. Can’t talk long. Love you.”

“Love you too. Tell Shannon I’m sorry she got shit on.”

Geno doesn’t say goodbye. He never does. It’s been a rule they’ve had since that first summer on the glacier. No goodbyes. They hadn’t even been together after the first summer on the glacier and they had sworn that no goodbyes was the way to go. It works for them.

Callie slinks back over, looking put out. She climbs back into Sid’s lap and he starts to pet her again. He’s got another 500 words to write and a pair of boots to buy before lunch.

It takes them five years to buy their farm. Sid finishes school and writes a book. They work on the glacier every summer and spend too much time apart during the fall and winter, working for different mushers and volunteering at different races. They both work the Iditarod twice, but only see each other when it is over. They get married and argue about what they’re going to name their racing team.

The farm is in northern Ontario, far enough away from everything that Sid can breathe. They’re not ready for dogs right away, no matter how much they want them. They still get them faster than expected. Another musher has an unplanned litter and offers all five pups to them.

They know Cari from the glacier and the dogs’ line is good so they say yes. Geno builds dog houses and Sid drives across Manitoba to pick up the puppies when they’re ready to be weaned. They’re all adorable balls of fluff, climbing all over each other and running around the yard.

When he gets them home, they sit in the yard with their puppies running around. Sid leans against Geno’s side, watching them happily. One of the puppies comes running over, tripping over his feet and tumbling into Geno’s lap. Geno picks him up, shaking him gently before cradling him against his belly.

“So this forwards, goalies, or defense?”

“Goalies,” Sid says easily. “These are definitely goalies.”

Geno rubs the puppy’s belly lightly. “Who this then?”

“The girls are Manon and Shannon for sure. Boys are Flower, Marty, and Vlad.”

“Welcome home, Vlad,” Geno says, leaning over to press a kiss to the puppy’s forehead. Vlad wiggles away and romps back over to where his brothers and sisters are playing. Geno pulls Sid close again and kisses him softly. “Thanks, Sid.”

Sid breathes against Geno’s lips, smiling. “Thanks, Geno.”

Geno gets home late at night, Manon still singing to announce they’ve arrived. Sid’s waiting for them, stew warm on the stove for Geno and warm meat and kibble for the dogs in their bowls. Geno’s fingers are stiff as they work to unclip all the dogs and get them rubbed down and stretched out.

Sid checks Shannon over well for any lingering shit, but all of it is gone thankfully. She licks his face as he massages her paws with ointment. All of the dogs are tired, but they eat and settle into their houses comfortably. Sid gets the sled put away, sending Geno into the house to warm up.

All of Geno’s gear is in a pile by the door, stripped off and left there. Sid rolls his eyes. He could leave it if he wanted. Geno would take care of it after showering and eating, but Sid shakes out the parka and hangs it up. The snow pants and gloves are next. He inspects all the gear at the same time, making sure it still in good shape. Boots are last and he pays close attention to the soles before setting them aside.

The shower is running when he gets upstairs to the bathroom. He slides in, leaving his clothes in a pile next to Geno’s. The water isn’t warm yet, still lukewarm to make sure Geno doesn’t accidentally burn himself.

“Hey,” Sid says, stepping into the shower. Geno’s leaning against the wall, eyes half-closed as the water runs over his side. Sid pulls him upright and gets him under the spray. “Everything still attached?”

Geno grunts in affirmation and lets Sid move him around until he’s pink and warm. He kisses Sid slowly, hands resting on Sid’s lower back. Geno’s stomach finally interrupts them, loud over the running water.

Geno laughs against Sid’s lips. “Sorry.”

They eat dinner on the couch with a hockey game on, Edmonton is losing to Boston. They paid too much money to Connor McDavid and Leon Draisaitl and now they can’t put a team around them.

Callie begs stew from Geno and he gives it to her, crooning softly in Russian to her about how she’s such a good cat. She’s his baby, the only one he spoils since it’s a bad idea to spoil sled dogs.

“If the dogs could see you now,” Sid murmurs as Callie laps stew from Geno’s spoon.

“She’s starving,” Geno says, rubbing behind Callie’s ears. “Look how skinny.”

Callie is decidedly not skinny and hasn’t been since she was a stray kitten Geno found when out on a run with the dogs. Sid runs a hand over Callie’s pooch and gives Geno a look.

“So skinny.”

Geno pouts and Sid laughs, leaning up to kiss him. “Make sure to eat enough. If you don’t eat, you can’t take care of the dogs.”

“Always take care of me,” Geno says fondly and pulls Sid close. “Always take care of dogs too.”

Sid squirms closer, careful not to dislodge either of their bowls or Callie. The house is warm and his belly is full of stew. It’s dark outside and cold. The dogs are sleeping comfortably in their houses and tomorrow they’ll go on another run with Geno.

There’s nowhere else Sid would rather be.

[twobillionseconds]

August 18th - 23rd 2021

This is a cheat post. Should I even consider this a cheat post? Who gives a shit. This is for me anyways. Just got back yesterday night from a week trip with the in laws. It was a great time to just get out of your usual environment and spend time with family.

August 18th:

We tried to wake up early as possible considering we were conditioned to PST. When we woke up my wife met up with her friend and spent some time with her. She also had to get her blood drawn to see if she is preggers. I spent time with my nieces in the morning. They are growing up so fast. For lunch we met up with my wife, her mom, and 2 younger sisters. We went to some fusion korean cafe. Not bad at all. I feel that the middle of the country is starting to really be open to other cultural elements. Afterwards, one of the sister-in-laws met up with with us and we went to a park with a beautiful botanical garden. I got to meet with more nieces and nephews. We played in the park and got to see a butterfly sanctuary.

After my wife and her mom drove up to see her dad in the nursing home. It was a real shame that she couldn’t be with him. She only got to see him through the window. This whole COVID situation is fubar. Our time here is so short.

After that we went to go dinner at my wife’s family asian food of choice: Hong Kong Inn. It’s this really old chinese food that was the first foray of Asian food in their small midwest city. Met up with one of her younger brother’s family and had dinner with them. Afterwards we went to her oldest brother’s new farm house and got to see their upcoming house. He has 15 acres of land. I wouldn’t even know what to do with that. After that we came back to his current house. While my wife and the oldest brother’s wife was catching up, I played some jackbox games with my nieces. It was fun playing with them. I was helping the youngest out of the three because she can’t quite read yet. Also I stocked his bar a bit with bourbon and scotch.We shared a couple glasses and called it a day.

August 19th:

One of my wife’s younger brother decided to start the camping trip 1 day early and my wife decided to join them as well. So when we woke up that morning we were packing to go with them. Spent more time with the oldest brother-in-law’s nieces. We went to a public pool in the morning and went swimming with them. Apparently this pool was a regular local spot for my wife’s family while she was growing up.

Her mom picked us up at the pool and we picked up various camping supplies After all the supplies were purchased, we got to her house. We were waiting for brother-in-law number 2 to get back from work. I got to meet new dogs and played with his children a bit. We ate dinner before heading out to the camping site. When brother in law #2 came back from work I helped him setting up the camp site and getting his boat there. One of the neighbor’s at the campsite came over and we got to know them. Doug and Jen and their kids Silas and Warren. One thing that struck me was when I was chatting with Doug and when I said I was from CA, he said “we are not all assholes here”. It was a little sad, because a lot of people in the middle of the country really feel the contempt from the people from the coasts. It reminded me of the podcast between Bret Weinstein and Irshad Manji (a professor in NYU), where she was recounting a story where she was promoting her book on Islam in the heartland of the US. She remembers when people in the US heartland asked her “why do they hate us?” She at first thought that the “they” were referring to muslims, but she then realized that the “they” was referring to the coastal liberal elites. So many thoughts ran through my mind. I’ll have to one day sit down and process this.

After putting the kids to bed we just hung out at the picnic table. We were catching up, drinking beer and whiskey.

August 20th:

First day of rest of the family who were able to make it. First person to show up was Brother-in-law #1, then my wife’s younger sister, then bro-in-law #3. After everyone got settled in, we all went to go swimming at the lake. Apparently there was this rock that they used to all jump off as kids into the lake. It was fun doing so and swimming in the lake.

For dinner, each family did their own thing. My wife and I being out of town guests went to each family and foraged for food. After dinner Bro-in-law 1 and 2 took the boat out to go fishing. I just went to get on the water and skipped on the fishing. They didn’t catch much.

When we came back, we all did the usual camping traditions: start fire, make smores, drink beer.

August 21st:

It rained during the night so it was wet in the morning. Bro-in-law #2′s wife made french toast for breakfast. Went back to the rock for the morning swim. Then all three brother’s and I went to go for a mid-day fishing trip. They caught a couple. I didn’t catch jack. It was humbling to learn something new. It also made me realize that in the event of an apocalypse I would be screwed. Afterwards we came back to dry off have some lunch. Rested up a bit and went for another swim at the rock. After the swim Bro-in-law #2 and #3 and I went back to go fishing again. They caught some a couple more, but I didn’t catch jack again.

For dinner bro-in-law #1 made tacos. It was really good. Afterwards we started another fire and all the kids made brown-bears and smores.

August 22nd:

All the bro-in-laws woke up early to do some early morning fishing. We went out just as the sun was coming up. Among them, they caught nine. I was getting frustrated, but I stuck with it. Finally at the end I caught one. I did have to let it go, but it felt great that I got one. After about 3 hours of fishing we came back to camp and started tearing down camp site. They organized a little Sunday service.

I helped bro-in-law #2 with tearing down the campsite and getting the boat back. Afterwards everyone met at the matriarch’s house for a late lunch and to celebrate her birthday. The last bro-in-law met us there. We all had burgers and dogs. The real treat was the crappie fish that they caught. They breaded them and fried them. Afterwards we all celebrated her birthday and had three types of cake. The one I liked the most was the cheese cake.

After the celebrations we said good bye to bro-in-law #3′s family and we hung out a little bit more at my wife’s mom’s house. Then we said good bye to bro-in-law #2′s family and we went to bro-in-law #1′s house with the bro-in-law #4′s family.

We spent the evening resting and just hanging out.

August 23rd:

Last day of the trip. Since our flight was not until 3 in the afternoon, we spent much time as possible with the family members that couldn’t make it out to camping. We spent the morning with her youngest sister. We had bagels and coffee for breakfast. Afterwards my wife and I got our picture taken at the request of my wife’s mom. We took pictures with all the nieces and nephews that were there. We said good bye and my wife was sad that our time there has ended so quickly.

We had our last meal with my wife’s mom and bro-in-law #4′s family at a vietnamese restaurant. Afterwards my mother-in-law dropped us off and we started heading back home. We eventually landed back in the west coast around 9 but because of the public transit’s shitty ability to time things, we didn;t get home until 10. We just got some in n out and I topped off my night with Lagavulin.

Overall it was time well spent. It made me think about my time here and how we should spend it.

[actuallylorelaigilmore]

you should write a lucien x jean fic where jean is singing! it would be so damn good and she has the best voice haha

This was a really fun request, so I hope you like! Headcanons were borrowed from the tags on this post in the writing of this fic. 

The first time Lucien heard Jean sing. Deleted scene, set during 2x01. Also on AO3, more notes can be found there.

It was a slow song, sweet and yearning, but not one he had heard before. Curious, he took his glass with him and followed the sound.

Request a minific of your own + prompt ideas

Lucien stared at the creased photograph of his daughter, now grown into a lovely young woman, and swallowed the rest of his whiskey. He had missed so much time…the most important years…and now it was too late.

Oh, they had exchanged postal details, promised to write, but he knew it could never be what it was. Or what he had hoped. His little girl was gone, taken by time and distance, instead of war. It was no less cruel of fate.

Pouring three more fingers into his glass, he tucked the picture away. At least now he had his answers. And he was home.

Capping the bottle and putting it back in his desk, Lucien heard the radio start playing down the hall.

“April in Paris, chestnuts in blossom, holiday tables under the trees…”

It was a slow song, sweet and yearning, but not one he had heard before. Curious, he took his glass with him and followed the sound.

“April in Paris, this is a feeling that no one can ever reprise…”

As soon as he opened his door, he realized his mistake. There was no radio; it was Jean, singing in the kitchen. Strange, he thought, that he had never heard her singing before.

“I never knew the charm of spring, I never met it face to face, I never knew my heart could sing, I never missed a warm embrace…”

Her rich, clear tone drew him closer. He might have felt guilty about eavesdropping–there was certainly something intimate about the way she carried the tune–but not enough to stop himself from lingering in the doorway, just out of sight.

“Till April in Paris…whom can I run to…what have you done to my heart?”

He watched her dry dishes at the sink, humming the chorus, until she turned his way mid-note and nearly dropped a plate.

“Oh! Lucien.” Jean stared, hand pressed to her chest and face pink with embarrassment. “I thought you’d gone to bed. Did I wake you?”

“No, you didn’t disturb me. I was still up.” He took a seat. “I didn’t mean to interrupt.”

When she paused to look at him, not sure if he was teasing her, he shot her a smile. “Please, carry on.”

Not teasing, Jean decided after a moment. But far too amused at her expense. “That’s quite all right, Lucien. I was finished.”

“You weren’t. I cut you off on low C.”

She raised an eyebrow. Never lost a moment to show off his musical training, did he? “Well, I’m done now.”

“Ah. That’s a shame.”

“No, it was silly of me. I’m not sure what I was thinking. I could have woken the whole house.” Truth be told, she hadn’t been thinking at all. She’d had Joy McDonald’s words echoing in her head all day–”and what about yourself, Jean?”–alongside the memory of Lucien smiling at her fresh off the bus…and she was just so happy to have him home.

Mattie was lovely company, when she wasn’t working or off with her friends, but with Danny gone to Melbourne and no office to run, it had been…lonely.

She hadn’t dared hope for his return. If it were her, finding a child she had feared was dead–maybe finding a long-lost spouse as well–she couldn’t imagine parting with them again. Not for anything; certainly not when all that awaited Doctor Blake was a family business he had struggled to settle into and a town that didn’t quite trust him.

And her, of course…but what did that matter in the grand scheme of things?

Shaking her head, Jean caught him watching her, still grinning fondly. “What is it, Lucien?”

“Oh, nothing. I’m just glad to be back, Jean. Very glad indeed.” Crossing to her, he took the towel from her hand and began drying a bowl.

She hadn’t even realized she’d been twisting it between her fingers until it was gone; he made her so nervous, sometimes.

“You don’t have to do that, Lucien,” she admonished him gently. “I’ll take care of it.”

“Yes, I know.” Ignoring her, he put the bowl away and picked up a glass. “So, what was that song you were singing? It was lovely.”

“Oh, just something I heard on the radio.” Something that reminded her of the life she had dreamed of as a girl…something that had made her think of him on the other side of the world, whenever it played.

There was a faint flush to her cheeks when Lucien turned to look at her. He wondered why. Perhaps she was embarrassed to have been caught daydreaming; it was a very romantic song, after all. “Well, it was nice. Do you have a fondness for Paris?”

“I’ve never been, of course.”

“What does that matter?”

His no-nonsense tone amused her, as though it could make perfect sense to love a place you had never been. To him, perhaps it did.

“I’ve always wanted to see it,” she admitted. Smoothing a hand over her hair, Jean couldn’t help feeling self-conscious with his blue eyes fully focused on her. That piercing gaze of his made her stomach flutter, and followed her into her dreams some nights.

She doubted he knew it. Being so intensely focused–and sincerely curious–was just his way. As was surprising her, whenever she thought she had him figured out.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She blinked. “There’s no need to flatter me, Lucien.“

“It’s the truth. I was surprised not to have realized it before. But of course you would; I bet they were lucky to have you in the choir.”

“Oh, I never joined the choir.” She waved the thought away. “I had the boys and Christopher and the farm to mind, and before that…well, it wouldn’t have been right.”

Confusion was plain on his face. “What do you mean?”

“My family didn’t approve.” She shrugged at the memory. “I was such a flighty thing as a girl, always dreaming, with a tune on the tip of my tongue. They called me ‘songbird,’” she added quietly. Her eyes were sharp with guilt when they met his. “It wasn’t a compliment.”

He could see it so easily in his mind, and hurt for the girl she used to be. Willowy and soft, flyaway curls and hope as bright as her eyes…how dare they shame her for having dreams? What other needs had she shoved down to please her family, tried to ignore?

Jean sighed. “Anyhow, it would have been inappropriate, to join the choir against their wishes. I helped out at church in other ways.”

“And stopped singing.”

“Yes.” She wasn’t sure why he had latched onto that so strongly, why it seemed to bother him so much. “Well, for the most part,” she added, remembering what had brought him to the kitchen in the first place.

“Right. So, now you only sing when no one’s listening?”

The entire conversation was growing more mortifying by the minute. He didn’t give her the chance to figure out how to answer.

“What was different about tonight?”

Tired of the questions, she brushed past him and headed for the living room. “I was in a good mood.” And she hadn’t realized he could hear her.

“Oh?”

He was going to make her spell it out, wasn’t he? Lucien Blake could be such an insufferable man sometimes.

Jean sat on the couch, watching him as he approached. “We’re happy to have you home.”

Lucien’s grin was mischievous around the edges. “We.”

“Well, Mattie…and me. We–I–missed you, very much.”

He sat, next to her instead of in his usual chair. They were rarely this close. It made her skin hum where their arms almost touched.

“I missed you…both…as well. You must know how–” He stopped himself. She couldn’t be expected to know anything he didn’t say, could she? Especially those things he tried so hard to keep from her, for both their sakes.

Being away, receiving confirmation that Mei Lin was really gone–it had forced him to confront the truth. Jean wasn’t simply his employee, someone he could hold at arm’s length the way his father had. She was so much more, in ways that really weren’t proper. Ways that would only make her uncomfortable.

“That is, Jean…I’m very glad to be home. With you, both.”

She nodded, betraying no hint that she’d caught his hesitation. “Well. We should be getting to bed, Lucien. It’s late.”

As though she hadn’t been up doing chores only moments ago, he agreed easily. “Of course. You’re quite right.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, then.” She stood, brushing restless hands over her clothes.

Sitting so close had been a mistake, albeit a deliberate one that he hadn’t considered the price of. Her scent would stay with him, flowers and vanilla haunting him until he woke aching and alone. Knowing that, he could forgive himself the small weakness of a parting shot.

“Jean?”

She turned back, a hint of wariness in her eyes. “Yes?”

“I hope to hear you sing again, soon.”

Jean smiled a little. “All right, Lucien. Sleep well.”

His words spread warmth through her as she went to her room. He must have meant it, when he said he liked her voice. Lucien liked a part of her that she’d learned to stifle–a part that longed to be free, almost as much as Jean herself.

As she slept that night, her dreams were happy ones.

And in the future, when he asked her to sing…she always did.

[aelin-and-feyre]

Belladonna Farm (Part 1)

Yay! The first part of my new Nessian series! This will be a seven part fic and will have a couple aesthetic boards to go with it. 

Fun Fact: The setting for this fic is a real place that I have been to and took pictures of for the aesthetics. Everything about it is 100% true except for the mountains (which I added because Illyrians).

Please let me know what you guys think! 

Tagging: @aelinxfeyre @rowanismybae (let me know if you want to be added to this tag list!)

Aesthetic Board 1

‘belladonna’

noun

1. also called deadly nightshade. a poisonous plant, Atropa belladonna, or the nightshade family, having purplish-red flowers and blackberries

2. Italian for ‘beautiful lady’

...

Saturday

Nesta checks her phone again, squinting as she tries to understand the directions the stupid GPS app is telling her. She is pretty sure that it is completely wrong. After all, the last town is twenty miles back, and all around her are corn fields, with a small mountain range situated behind them. The road she is currently driving on is paved, but has many potholes, and the closest neighbors are several kilometers apart. Surely her late Aunt Ripleigh - who had loved to talk all day if she had an audience - wouldn’t want to live all the way out here in the middle of nowhere.

Of course, that may as well have been Nesta’s city heart talking. She could never imagine staying in a place like this for a long period of time, corn fields surrounding you, the sun beating down constantly. As it is, she has the air conditioning blasting in her car and the humidity is still getting to her hair. Not that she has anyone to impress. Nesta briefly feels a bit grateful for a week with no one around. Maybe she won’t even do her makeup while she’s staying here. Wherever here is.

As she continues to drive down the dull, straight road, Nesta once again curses the circumstances that put her here. Of course, she has no one to blame, because she can’t very well blame her dead great aunt for naming her in her will. Although Nesta fiercely wants to be angry that Aunt Ripleigh had decided that she should be the one given the farm house at the base of a mountain.

Meanwhile, Nesta’s sisters, Elain and Feyre, had inherited money. Loads of it. Aunt Ripleigh had been exceptionally wealthy, and it turns out that the Archeron sisters were her only living relatives left. There had been a couple other names in the will as well, but none that Nesta had recognized. The only reason Nesta could think of for why the woman had left her the property in the middle of nowhere, was that one time Nesta had mentioned that she would be interested in seeing it. And that was just because she was being polite!

But now, with an absolute mess of a situation going on at her job, Nesta has to take a week off to settle the papers so that she can sell the house and wipe her hands of the whole matter. Elain and Feyre had briefly attempted to convince her to keep the land, but they all knew that it was a lost cause. The eldest Archeron sister is married to the city life, her job at the company, and the society that comes with neighbors right next to you and loud noises all through the night. And seeing how out of the way this place is, Nesta is all too sure that she is making the right choice.

Her GPS starts to recalibrate, shaking Nesta from her thoughts and forcing her attention back on the road. It is a good thing that no one else is around, or she might have very well crashed. The corn seems to grow taller with each passing mile, and the mountains in the background go on forever. Her phone beeps and Nesta glances over to see that it is directing her to turn left in a half mile. She must be close.

With less than half a mile to go, Nesta sees a inlet in the road ahead. She turns on her signal, even though there is no one to see, and swerves onto a white gravel road with a strip of grass down the center. A driveway. She pauses briefly to glance around. A mailbox sits at the edge of the driveway, empty. Fields of the same tall corn border either side of the long gravel path. A sort of archway made from two trees frame the entrance, two signs are posted to the tree on the right. One reads ‘15 mph’ and the other dictates how she is entering private property, and there is absolutely no trespassing.

With one last look at the road stretching behind her in either direction, Nesta takes her foot off the brake and rides up the driveway, doing the instructed speed limit. It is just like Aunt Ripleigh to tell her visitors how fast they can drive while approaching her house. There is a bend in the road a little while in, turning onto a perfectly paved driveway that goes around the back of one of the corn fields. Perhaps the white gravel was just for show. Nesta is not surprised when she finds a gate a little bit farther in, as Aunt Ripleigh was always strict about security. Although whomever would makes the trek all the way out here and then venture down the mile long driveway just to steal from a little old lady surely deserves to get something for his efforts.

She fishes through her phone for the passcode and leans out the window to push it into the small keypad along the side of the road. Automatically, the gate creaks open and Nesta ventures through.

The gate, and the tree line beside it, turn out to be hiding a wondrous property. Nesta slowly drives the last stretch of driveway to the enormous house standing in the center of the nine square acre piece of land. She gawks at her surroundings unabashedly. Nesta has never particularly liked nature, but the open space before her is just enough to slightly take her breath away.

A large meadow takes up about a third of the square, huge round bales of hay the size of her car dotted around it. She spots a small orchard of trees along the far edge, tiny specks of color betraying that they are bearers of fruit. A barn stands tall and large in one corner and Nesta can see the beginnings of a small lake as she drives. The sun high in the sky casts beautiful rays on light across the property. A soft breeze makes the flowers in the meadow sway.

Pulling up to the house, Nesta parks outside of the garage and slowly gets out. The humidity is awful and without the car’s air conditioning, her hair is frizzing in all sorts of directions. She’s already starting to feel sweat leak through her sheer blouse. Nesta thanks whatever gods are out there that no one can see her in this state.

As she walks further around the garage, the lake becomes clearer, positioned about a hundred meters from the house, it is shaped like an oval with a couple different openings to small rivers at the far end. A fish house and pier sit comfortably on the shore. Nesta decides that she will enjoy getting a nice tan while she’s here. As long as the bugs aren’t too bad, that is.

To say that she is shocked would be an understatement. Never in a million years would Nesta think that a place like this would exist in such a spot, surrounded by corn on all sides and mountains looming overhead. It truly is extraordinary. No wonder Aunt Ripleigh barely ever left.

Her great aunt was a sophisticated woman, who loved the outdoors and everything it had to offer. This place would fit her perfectly. Nesta can practically see her sitting at the small table on the pier, sipping sweet tea and enjoying the sun on her face.

Lost in her own thoughts, Nesta wanders through the gate that leads to an enclosed portion of the yard, surrounded on three sides by a white fence, the fourth side being the back of the house. Nesta is so deep in thought that it isn’t until he starts waving at her that she sees the man standing on the other side of the fence. A very shirtless, very sweaty man.

Nesta screams. She grapples for her purse, trying to find her pepper spray and realizes with unending dismay that she left it in the car. Backing away hurriedly and trying to ignore the confused expression that crosses the man’s face, Nesta’s breath quickens. Who is he? Why is he here? What does he want? Why is he without a shirt?

While attempting to open the damned gate again and get back through, she distantly hears her name being called. “Mrs Archeron! Mrs Archeron, please I didn’t mean to startle you!” A deep voice yells as the young man hops over the fence and starts walking rapidly towards her. He has is hands up in a nonthreatening manner but Nesta does not take that as a sign that he is indeed not a threat. In fact, after living in the city for so long, that almost guarantees that he is.

Finally, she gets through the gate and bolts back to her car, throwing the door open and grabbing her phone. She holds it up to him warningly. “Stop right there!” She says, trying not to let her fear taint her voice. The man stops with one foot outside the gate, breathing heavily. “Tell me who you are and why you are on this property this instant or I am calling the police.” No matter that they wouldn’t get here in time. This man could kill her five times over before any kind of law enforcement official could reach the house. Nesta focuses most of her attention at calming her breathing at that thought. If there is anything she learned in the city, it was to show no fear.

The man keeps his hands raised, palms towards her, demonstrating that he has absolutely nothing that may harm her. Although looking briefly at the corded muscle along his biceps and the six pack he sports reveals that he probably doesn’t need any tools to torment her. Nesta quickly averts her eyes back to his own gaze.

“I’m Cassian,” He states slowly, his voice rough and seemingly hewn with mountain air. It sends an involuntary shiver down her spine. It is impossible not to notice the swirling black tattoos that litter his chest and down his sides, disappearing over his shoulders and below his waistband. Nesta’s hand tightens on her phone as she concentrates on not ogling him and focusing on the matter at hand. “I’m the caretaker of this property,” Cassian continues, “I worked for your Aunt Ripleigh for more than a decade,” He takes a hesitant step towards her and Nesta tenses again. “Mrs Archeron, I promise I’m not going to hurt you. Please just lower your phone and we might be able to talk in a more civilized manner.”

Without taking her eyes off of the stranger, Nesta clicks her phone off and slides it into her pocket, still in easy reach. “Miss,” She responds, crossing her arms.

Confusion once again mars his sweaty face. “Excuse me?”

“Miss Archeron,” Nesta corrects. “I’m not married.”

A devilish smirk spreads across his features. Cassian runs his hand through his long black hair and Nesta has a feeling that she is not going to like whatever he says next. “Well, Miss Archeron, lucky for you, I am not married either.” The sideways smile on his face makes her blood boil.

“Lucky for me?” She repeats, trying not to grit her teeth. “Why, Mr...”

His smirk widens slightly. “Just Cassian.” He supplies.

“Well, just Cassian,” She practically spits the name. “I have known you for barely thirty seconds and I already know that all women are lucky that you are not married yet, as we would feel obligated to end the torture of our fellow female who was unlucky enough to end up with you.”

Unfortunately, her biting comeback does not have the desired effect. The corner of Cassian’s mouth twitches a little in amusement, and he says nothing for a few seconds, surveying her from head to toe. Nesta resists the urge to fidget under his gaze.  

“Can I help you with your bags?” The man asks eventually, startling Nesta.

She sputters a few times as he walks past her towards the trunk. She can do it herself, she knows she can, but as long as he’s offering she’ll take him up on it. He’s a strange man in a property that now belongs to her, but he definitely does not seem like a serial killer. Cassian heaves the large suitcase from the back of her car and begins to lug it towards the garage door. “We can go through here, I’ll show you around the house.”

Nesta reluctantly follows him, only now realizing that her hair is still all out of sorts and she’s sure her blouse must be spotted with moisture. Staying behind him, she sneakily attempts to pat down the frizz and fan her underarms that the evidence of her sweating might not be visible. Of course, he is sweating like a pig. And rather dirty now that she looks at him. His jeans are caked with dirt and grass, patches of mud sticking to his sides. He’s also still shirtless, gracing Nesta with a view of his toned back.

However, as he opens the door into the house and she actually looks at the fine muscles and shoulder blades, Nesta is briefly taken aback by the two mottled scars that run on a slight diagonal down his back. She blinks at the image and quickly has to school her features into neutrality as he turns around to glance back at her, a mocking smile playing at his lips.

“Coming?” He asks, one eyebrow raised.

Questions swimming through her head, but also the knowledge that this man - this stranger - owes her no answers nor does she owe him any sympathy, Nesta nods once and steps over the threshold.

...

As they venture through the house, Cassian gestures towards doors, explaining how this one goes to a bathroom, or another to a laundry room, another to the pantry, another to the screen porch, and so on. Nesta is amazed at how modern everything is. The kitchen is large and spacious and the appliances are wonderful. Aunt Ripleigh was a fine cook, and so is Nesta. She is excited to try out the space this week.

There ends up being six bathrooms, three bedrooms, a sunroom, screen porch, wrap around porch, 4 fire places, two laundry rooms, and various gathering spaces. All this house for one person. Or two. Nesta still isn’t quite sure what Cassian’s deal is.

Dropping her suitcase down in the upstairs master bedroom, Cassian dusts his hands - which Nesta notices are rather grimy and cringes at how the handle of her bag must reflect that now - and looks at her. “So, when are the rest of your things getting here?”

Nesta blinks. “I don’t understand what you mean.”

His brows furrow. “Well this can't be all of your things. I mean, yeah this bag is heavy but I’m sure a respectable lady like you owns more than what can fit in a suitcase.”

“Of course,” she replies, “I have an apartment in the city. But all my stuff isn’t coming here.”

Cassian raises his eyebrows, surprised. “Oh, you’re going to maintain both of your properties then?”

Nesta just stares. What is he talking about? Then it clicks. “I’m... not keeping this house, Cassian. I’m selling it.”

The man’s mouth immediately forms a grim line. “I see.”

“I’m sorry if you were under the impression that I was moving in, but frankly, I’m not a nature person. I’m a city girl and a house in the middle of nowhere?” She gestures around herself vaguely. “Definitely not my thing.”

Cassian’s expression does not waver. His voice is devoid of it’s previous joking nature. “So, how long will you be staying here before you sell?”

“A week. I have some people coming in to investigate the territory. If they can find it, that is,” she adds quietly. “I only asked off of work for the next week and then I have to head back.”

The change in atmosphere is palpable and Nesta feels nervous all over again. She does not know how this man reacts to bad news. She suddenly chastises herself for entering an enclosed building with him in an area where no one can hear her scream nor does she know if she has cell coverage or not.

She also never even considered the possibility that someone else might be living here. So she has no idea what he will do when the house goes on the market. Not that it matters much to her as long as it doesn’t interfere with the sell. She doesn’t like to admit it, but Nesta kind of needs the money. Another reason why she’s mad at her aunt for leaving her this place instead of a cut of her fortune.

Cassian takes a deep breath, his chest rising and falling with the action and drawing Nesta’s gaze. He is probably one of the most intimidating men she has encountered, excluding Tomas. She quickly blocks the thought before it goes too far. This week is supposed to clear her head, not force it in the wrong direction.

“Very well, Miss Archeron,” he says at last. “I didn’t finish in the garden yet, excuse me.” He brushes past her and out the door. She listens as his heavy gait descends the staircase, and the beep as the security system sounds through the house when he opens the door. Then the screen door slams shut and she’s alone.

Nesta runs a hand down her face, thoroughly irritated with the events that just unfolded. She has no obligation to this man whatsoever. He is inappropriate and odd and frankly, should definitely wear a shirt more often. Nesta hopes that he does not live on the property or she might die from the torture of having to spend the next week with him and his mood swings.

Fetching her phone from her pocket, Nesta checks to make sure that she has signal. She does. After sending a quick text to her sisters letting them know that she made it safely, Nesta begins to wander.

The bathroom connected to her room is wondrous, with a clawfoot bathtub, large shower, and a balcony coming off of it overlooking the lake. Curiosity getting the better of her, she steps out onto the small terrace and admires the grounds. The lake is much bigger than what she could see from the garage, multiple streams branching off and turning back, perfect for rowing through. A couple islands and peninsulas intersect the water as well. The barn stands two stories tall and takes up much of the southwestern corner of the property. She notices a track running around the lake that must be mowed regularly, and used by the golf cart she noticed when they passed through the garage.

Glancing almost directly down, Nesta finds a garden, two of them actually. A small house stands between them, Nesta hoping that it is just a garden shed and not Cassian’s abode. Said man is currently hacking away at some wood next to the shed, still shirtless. His long hair is pulled back into a bun and even from the balcony, Nesta can see the sweat glistening off his back, as well as the twin scars that run there.

She turns away from him and towards the meadow, which she can only just see from her position. It has an assortment of wild flowers in it, as well as tall grasses and brush. She notices that there is one flower though that pops up all over, both in the meadow, along the islands and peninsulas, on the sides of the driveway when she had been coming in, and even one in a vase on the nightstand beside her bed.

Nesta snaps a picture of the plant and sends it to Elain, knowing that the middle Archeron sister will know exactly what kind of flower it is. Elain’s answer is almost immediate. ‘That’s a hardy amaryllis,’ she says. It means nothing to Nesta so she shrugs, slipping her phone back in her pocket and cringing at herself in the mirror. Perhaps a soak in the tub or a nice shower would be a good idea after such a long drive.

Firmly shutting the door to the balcony and pulling down the shade on the window just to be sure, Nesta decides to do just that. It’s Saturday after all, and she has a week here before she has to head back. She might as well enjoy it.

Masterlist

[artificialqueens]

your body as a museum of careless gestures (biadore) - dylann

A/N:

Adore’s impulsive, sure.

But she’s more “don’t sober up at all for 36 hours because you’re sad you can’t randomly drop your own responsibilities and fly out to Europe” impulsive than “actually fly out to Europe” impulsive.

(or

Bianca is vulnerable, homesickness is a real bitch, Europe is very far away and plane tickets are unreasonably priced. Also, old patterns are hard to break, especially when you don’t even want to break them.

A reunion fic, everyone. That’s what this is.

Drag names and she/her pronouns for both throughout most of this. Shoutout to Dare for some solid constructive criticism and noticing my missing paragraph breaks.

Content warnings for mentions of weed and alcohol; sex; minor breathplay)

They FaceTime once, in early August, while Bianca’s at an airport somewhere in Europe, and Adore’s shitfaced in Seattle.

She’s home after a local show, still in full makeup, but she’s pulled her wig off and her own hair is piled up at the top of her head in a messy approximation of a bun. Her phone keeps flashing on every couple of minutes, lighting up with various notifications.

Bianca liking a recent Instagram post, or the occasional tweet, or commenting on pictures they’re both tagged in. It’s the clear signs of someone who’s bored and in some sort of situation where they can’t do much besides fuck about on their phone.

Adore knows she shouldn’t text because— well, because she isn’t having the best night anyway, and while talking to Bianca might help at first, it’d probably fuck her up worse in the long run.

She’s stripped down to her underwear and the remnants of a practically destroyed Sex Pistols tank top when her phone buzzes again. It’s another Facebook comment, and she caves.

To Bea 🍹 (3:27:02am) how the fuck bored are you??

Bianca fires back a 😂 almost immediately, and then types a response. The three dots that indicate her thinking pop up a few times, until she settles on

To Adore 🔞 Delano (3:30:03am) Airport. Plane’s delayed.

(3:30:12am) cafe’s not even open, I hate Europe.

Adore mutters “No, you don’t,” to herself as she situates herself in the middle of her bed. Last night’s bowl is still half-packed at the sill of her open window, and she thanks past-Adore for being so considerate as she picks it up and takes a hit. 

And then she remembers Bianca can’t actually hear her.

To Bea 🍹 (3:31:45am) no you dont

(3:31:57am) can i call you???

To Adore 🔞 Delano (3:32:05am) 🙃👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼👌🏼

Adore props her phone on her nightstand, and tilts the small reading lamp so it hits her face from the right angle. She’s wearing very light sea green contacts, and she knows for a fact her eyes look stunning.

The connection takes a moment and then the black screen lights up to reveal Roy who looks like a parody of an airplane traveller. He’s clearly exhausted and bleary-eyed under the rim of his baseball cap, and he’s wearing a plush fuchsia pink travel pillow around his neck like a goddamn statement piece.

Adore lets out a delighted laugh, and then goes,

“You look horrible.”

“It’s good to see you too,” Roy laughs, giving his camera a long look. “Isn’t it, like, way past your bedtime?”

“Has anyone ever told you you use emoji like a thirteen year old girl with a secret Instagram account?” Adore fires back.

“Are you calling me old?” Roy asks, feigning offense well enough that it makes Adore break and she shoots the camera a shit-eating grin as she nods and lights up her bowl again.

“Call me old one more time and I’ll buy a house somewhere in central Europe, take up farming, and never fucking come back,” Roy threatens lightly.

“No one would miss you here,” Adore says, perhaps a second too late to be funny.

Roy doesn’t answer, which is fine. Adore is usually obsessed with filling silences, like it’s her personal responsibility to make sure everyone’s constantly entertained. Roy’s an exception.

They’ve been silent around each other enough that it hasn’t felt awkward in years. 

“How’s Europe?” she asks eventually.

“Fun. Loud. Really fucking hot,“ Roy shrugs. He reaches up and presses his thumb against the bridge of his nose before rubbing along the outline of his eye socket. It’s rare and unsettling to see him that quiet and clearly drained.

Adore smokes and watches him as she contemplates how okay it’d be to say what’s actually on her mind.

“Hey, Bea?” she says quietly, as she shifts to lie down on her stomach.

“Yeah?”

“You look really tired. But um— I hope you’re just tired? Europe’s not making you, like, sad, is it?” Adore trails off for a second and presses her eyes shut as she refocuses. “That’s dumb. I mean. A continent can’t make you sad, right? I don’t know—“

“I’m fine,” Roy says and his face lights up with a small, fond smile which makes him look more like himself. “How are you doing? You look—“

“Fucking wasted?” Adore supplies. She aims for a joke but it just kind of comes out tired and flat. Plus, selling Roy the whole act is kind of pointless. “Yeah. I had a weird night, I don’t know. The whole album thing is fucking stressing me out.”

“People are gonna love it,” Roy says quickly, earnestly. He seems more awake. “They’re gonna eat that shit up.”

“You’re supposed to say that ‘cause you love me,” Adore whines jokingly, but then he just shrugs and nods in agreement, which makes her soften. “Thanks. Honestly. It’s just so— people wanna hear the old shit, you know? And the new stuff’s so different, I just— what if they don’t wanna hear it?”

“They keep asking for the old stuff ‘cause they haven’t heard your new stuff,” Roy reasons. He’s holding his headphones’ microphone close to his lips and it sort of feels like he’s in the room and talking directly to her if she closes her eyes.

“You’re right. Thanks, Bea,” she sighs, and then bites her lip as she adds softly, “I miss you.”

“Come to Europe,” Roy laughs a little. He can always recognize when she’s on the brink of some sad spiral and can usually pull her right back out. Adore opens her eyes to watch him laugh at the camera.

It’s impossible not to smile back.

“Right, are you gonna fly me out?” she laughs, making a show of pursing her lips at the camera.

“You wish,” Roy grins, and then his eyes drift over to something out of frame. Some sort of airport announcement comes through the speaker of Adore’s phone, entirely too far away and jumbled to be understandable.

“Hey, listen, I gotta go,” Roy says. “I might finally get to make it to a plane.”

“Awesome, fly safe,” Adore nods, scrunching up her nose as she fights off a yawn.

“You get some rest,” Roy adds. “This was fun, let’s—“

“More often. Yeah. I’ll call you.”

Adore smiles, and they say their goodbyes and hang up.

And then they don’t talk again for weeks.

***

The morning after the last FaceTime call, Adore had woken up with a screenshot of her own bank account, and a bunch of screenshots of various potential flights on her phone. Looking at them (and maybe the hangover) had made her sick, and she’d deleted them with her eyes half closed.

Adore’s impulsive, sure.

But she’s more “don’t sober up at all for 36 hours because you’re sad you can’t randomly drop your own responsibilities and fly out to Europe” impulsive than “actually fly out to Europe” impulsive.

It’d been days, maybe weeks, after the call when an ad had popped up on her Instagram feed, quite aggressively advertising Bianca’s upcoming gig on Fire Island.

New York is, in comparison to central Europe, closer.

Closer, easier to get to, slightly more reasonable.

So Adore had called her manager and said she’d do that one interview she had scheduled over the phone, and that she was going to be out of town for a few days. Her manager wasn’t impressed, but it was just a weekend, and she’d already made up her mind.

She doesn’t really call or let anyone else know she’s going.

When she walks into the club, the security guard gives her and her ID a long, curious look, but other than that, it’s dark enough that no one really notices or pays attention to her.

She’s wearing a Bianca t-shirt she’s mercilessly cut up into a douchey tank top tucked into a short, faux leather mini skirt with an unnecessarily chunky zipper in the front. Underneath the tank top, she’s in a lacy black bandeau that only draws attention to the boy chest, which is the exact effect she’s aiming for. The tight fishnet covering her legs culminates in heeled combat boots. Her hair is long and black and just messy enough that from afar, she looks like she could be just another girl here for the show.

It’s great, and she feels kind of incognito, even though she’s not necessarily trying to hide. She’s just not here to put on a show, either.

When she gets a drink, the bartender shoots her a knowing grin and says this one’s on the house, she only smiles back and thanks him and doesn’t argue. There’s being lowkey, and then there’s just being plain stupid.

The club is already pretty full, and it’s crowded by the time Bianca takes the stage to host.

Adore doesn’t quite care for the actual event and she lets herself be distracted watching her even when she’s off to the side, and clearly not supposed to be pulling the focus.

It’s impossible for Bianca not to pull focus. In a bodycon dress that somehow manages to be both leopard and floral and still be incredible, she looks like every wet dream Adore’s ever had. Bianca’s focused and attentive, she watches each performance and laughs along, and her lips are so shiny, and her eyes are so bright, and Adore is so tempted to make her way over to the stage and pull her off now, like she can’t wait another minute.

But the reality is, she’s waited this long and now that she’s here, Adore wants to do this right. So she sits back, accepts a couple more drinks from the bartender, and lives out her groupie fantasy, screaming and howling with laugher as if she’s just there to prove she can be louder than everyone else in the club.

At the end of the show, Bianca performs a number and the crowd goes wild, and Adore wants to be cheering with them, except she’s transfixed, breathless as she watches Bianca in her element.

“It never fucking gets old,” Adore yells at the bartender once Bianca’s left the stage. Her ears are ringing.

“She’s great,” he agrees, sliding another refill across the bar for her.

“She’s the best,” Adore corrects. “Can you send her a large gin backstage? Tell her it’s from a fan who claims to know her.

The bartender laughs and fixes a drink, and Adore, who’s only human, watches the sway of his hips as he walks through an unmarked door behind the bar which presumably leads backstage.

When Bianca comes out (from a different door, off to the side), she scans the club past the faces of people who notice her and either try to flock to her, or take a few steps back in some sort of classical awe. She glances around with a look Adore has come to realize means she’s expecting to see an acquaintance who’s dropped her name in hopes for a drink and a catchup.

Then, Bianca notices her and her entire face shifts.

Adore watches her face go from a public, performative smile through shock, through defeat, all the way to blossoming into a genuine smile within a split second. Bianca mouths something in her direction and heads over, and Adore’s heart is pounding so hard in her chest that it makes her cough.

Then, Bianca’s in front of her and pulling her into a hug, and saying into her ear,

“You motherfucker.”

Adore laughs loudly, pulling back just enough to catch Bianca’s eyes and grin at her.

“You absolute motherfucker,” Bianca repeats. “You could’ve called—“

“I wanted to surprise you,” Adore shrugs, as if it’s that simple, and Bianca softens.

“Well, I am surprised,” she laughs. Her hands are still around Adore’s waist and she’s becoming more aware of that by the second. “But I left my drink in the dressing room so we’re gonna have to continue being surprised there.”

Adore just nods. She picks up her glass and follows Bianca through the crowd. When Bianca reaches back, she slips her hand in hers, and hopes the club is just dark and confusing enough that no one would see.

***

“I can’t believe you just pulled this shit,” Bianca says as they walk into the dressing room, which is cool and only illuminated by the lightbulbs that line the mirror.

She closes her eyes for a split second and Adore watches her stage poise and energy leave her body like air from a recently popped balloon.

“I wanted to see your face,” Adore shrugs, and squeezes her hand as she brings herself closer. “Plus, it’s been a while since I’ve watched you—“

“Tonight wasn’t that good,” Bianca says quietly. “It’s not even technically my show…“

Adore bites her lip, and takes a sip of her drink as she says,

“I wasn’t gonna push but— are you okay? I mean, you seem—“

“I’m okay,”

Bianca pulls her hand away from Adore’s and walks around to sit down on the makeup chair, her back turned to the room. Adore just kind of stands there, swallowing uneasily once they break contact. Bianca is never like this, and witnessing it is terrifying, and Adore’s chest is tight as she attempts to figure out how she’d help the most.

“I just feel like I’ve been away for so long, you know?” Bianca says suddenly. Her voice is barely audible over the dull, unrecognizable bass that filters through the walls. “I’m not even sure if I’m away from— This summer’s just going by so fast. I feel like I’m always catching up with people. Like, tonight, when I stepped out—“

“You looked fucking terrified,” Adore supplies. She’s taken one cautious step towards Bianca’s chair and is hovering there.

“‘cause I was,” Bianca agrees, and it comes out in a shaky laugh. “Fuck, Adore, I was so worried I was gonna have to sit down and have a chat with some local queen I haven’t seen in years and make it look like I’m having the time of my life, you know?”

“Yeah. I know.”

Years of sharing dressing rooms have taught Adore that usually, Bianca would be out of all of her drag by this point. Now, she’s just sitting there, her eyes distant as she looks into the mirror but not really at herself.

Adore sighs and walks the rest of the distance to the makeup table, planting herself directly behind the chair. She drapes her arms over Bianca’s shoulders and crosses her wrists at her chest. Bianca’s hand comes up to cover her wrist, pressing down just a little, as if she’s afraid Adore might pull back.

Bianca’s nails are a dark shade of greenish gold and they glitter as they catch the mirror light. Adore wants to tell her she’s never looked more beautiful.

“It just gets kinda lonely,” Bianca says, quiet enough that Adore isn’t sure if it’s for her at all. She doesn’t answer.

Instead, she moves her hand just a little underneath Bianca’s, so she can run her thumb along the side of Bianca’s hand. Bianca sighs and closes her eyes again. Her eyelashes cast long shadows down her cheeks.

Adore doesn’t move, just lets Bianca breathe and take in the physical weight of her presence, lets her be quiet until she seems a little bit more grounded. Adore can feel it under her arms when Bianca exhales a long breath and her shoulders relax.

“Well, I’m here now,” Adore says finally, quiet and intimate, and it feels like dipping one toe in cool water.

She hasn’t planned this far in advance, never knows quite where they stand when they’ve been away from each other for so long, only knows that she’s here, and she’s here for Bianca, in whatever capacity Bianca needs her to be.

“Yeah— motherfucker,” Bianca repeats softly, in an almost-laugh. “You’re here.”

Then, she makes the choice for Adore.

Bianca pushes the chair back and stands up, turning around to face Adore in one swift, decisive motion. Adore catches her eyes and when Bianca tilts her chin down in the slightest of nods, it’s enough.

Adore launches herself forward, resting a gentle hand at the curve of Bianca’s neck as she kisses her with all the intent of an innocent death row inmate who’s been granted one last wish. Bianca responds almost immediately, her hands coming to rest at the small of Adore’s back. Adore (who, again, is only human) rolls her hips into the touch, which gets a noise halfway between a groan and a laugh from Bianca. It sounds more like her than anything Adore’s heard from her so far tonight.

“Missed you,” Bianca whispers once she pulls back. Up close, her eyes are so incredibly bright.

“I’m here.”

“You are.”

They exchange reassurances in a terribly familiar rhythm, and something in Adore’s chest twists a little. It must show on her face because Bianca says “Shhh” even though she’s silent, and is then she’s kissing her again.

This one lasts longer. Bianca licks her way past Adore’s dark plum lips and all Adore can do is respond in small, breathless sounds as she drops one hand down to grip the table behind Bianca, essentially trapping Bianca between herself and the tabletop.

A bunch of lipsticks fall down and maybe something rolls off the table, and Adore lets out a careless laugh into Bianca’s mouth. Her world feels lighter than it has in months. She doesn’t want to think about it at all.

Bianca distracts her, luckily, as she drops her hands past her ass to brush her fingers under Adore’s skirt. Underneath the thin layer of fishnet, Adore’s — unsurprisingly — untucked and wearing the tiniest briefs which leave most of her ass bare. Upon making that discovery for herself, Bianca lets out a laugh which is both appreciation and utter defeat.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Adore Delano,” she hums, pulling back to draw in a very deep breath.

It’s overdramatic but earnest and Adore feels so fucking wanted.

“I dress to impress,” she says sweetly.

“Jesus,” Bianca whispers, and her exasperated smile reaches all the way to her eyes. “Shut up.”

Adore laughs loudly, and it comes from deep in her chest. This is easier than anything else she’s done in so long. She knows Bianca feels the exact same way because she’s still laughing as she kisses her again.

By the time Bianca pulls back again, Adore’s hard and dizzy and the only coherent thought in her head is a vague curiosity about whether the door to the dressing room locks.

“Where are you staying?” Bianca is asking quietly. The outline of her lipliner has blurred and her eyes are dark and bearing so much promise it makes Adore’s head spin.

She grins in response.

She has one bag — a way too expensive designer carryon — that she’d dropped at a friend’s apartment before explaining that no, she didn’t need a place to crash, just storage room, thanks, I’ll see you tomorrow.

She hadn’t bothered with a plan B.

“You bitch,” Bianca laughs fondly. “Yeah. Come on.”

***

Bianca’s hotel room is tiny and taken over almost entirely by the bed in the center. There’s a suitcase half-open in one corner. The lights are off, and the room is instead illuminated by the pale orange glow of street lamps filtering through the (truly hideous) cream tulle curtains.

Adore’s head is swimming. She lets herself fall back onto the mattress, laughing breathlessly as she props herself up on her elbows to look at Bianca who pauses a few steps away to kick off her heels.

“Hold on—“ Bianca starts, heading over to the small table in front of the mirror.

“No, no, no,” Adore says quickly. “No time. Come here—“

Bianca laughs as she stretches to pull the zipper of her own dress down.

“Fine. Just this, then,” she negotiates and Adore nods, and falls silent as she watches her strip and unclip her wig to pull it off.

It’s rare for Bianca to stay in drag when they hook up, but de-dragging takes too long, and Adore is too turned on to survive waiting for her any longer than she absolutely has to.

Plus,

“You look so fucking beautiful,” Adore whispers, lowering herself onto her back as Bianca crawls on top of her. She’s completely naked now and it’s purely instinct when Adore reaches for her cock. Bianca catches her wrist and pulls her hand away, her lips curving in an amused smirk.

“You’re so fucking impatient,” she says quietly and Adore responds with a low groan because Yeah, no shit, aren’t you?

“You’re right,” Bianca agrees, still smirking like some wicked demon of temptation from the depths of Hell when she comes down to catch Adore’s lips in a messy kiss. Adore’s all about hyperbole when it comes to Bianca.

And then Bianca’s grinding her hips down as she licks a hot stripe down the side of Adore’s neck, and literally nothing in Adore’s entire life has ever felt nearly as good.

“That’s cute,” Bianca comments, her lips almost brushing the thin strip of leather. Adore’s wearing a simple one-ring choker, and her face turns a deep shade of pink the second Bianca decides to acknowledge it.

“Told you,” she smirks, and manages to school her voice into an almost challenging singsong. “I dress to impress.”

“Stop talking,” Bianca replies lowly, hooking a finger through the ring to tug Adore up as she kisses her again. Adore’s eyes fall shut and she gasps helplessly into the kiss, and then all she can do is part her lips for Bianca’s tongue.

Adore’s tank top and the lacy bandeau are long gone. She’s still wearing the skirt, and tights, and briefs, and that’s three layers too many, and she’s so uncomfortably hard, and Bianca knows and is ignoring her because apparently, Bianca likes to torture people.

(Which is, on occasion, actually true. And welcomed. Just—)

“Bea,” Adore whines, actually whines, because this is unbearable. “Not right now, Jesus, please.”

“No?”

“No. Come on, I’m done waiting, fuck me now, please,” the last word comes out indignant, as if she’s only saying it to be polite but she doesn’t really want to. It works for Bianca, apparently, because she lets go of the choker and refocuses both of her hands’ attention to unzipping Adore’s skirt.

The zipper goes all the way down and the skirt comes undone.

“You thought this through,” Bianca hums, audibly entertained, and Adore drives her hips up in response because Hurry up, yeah I have, I want this, I’m ready, hurry up.

Bianca peels her tights and her underwear down her legs at the same time and brings them all the way down to her ankles but doesn’t take them off.

“I like the boots,” she explains, breath heavy and hot against the inside of Adore’s thigh. “We’re keeping them on.”

Adore feels filthy, like this part of it is somehow taboo, and her dick is already slick with precome against her stomach. She crosses her ankles and lets her knees fall open to the sides, and Bianca responds with an appreciative groan which makes her twitch.

Adore keeps her eyes closed as she listens to the distant sound of a plastic cap popping open, and then two lubed up fingers are pressing against her and she’s gone.

Bianca preps her quickly, efficiently, because any attempt she makes at slowing down is met by Adore with disjointed sounds of protest and helpless jerks of her hips.

“Now,” she moans eventually as she hovers with her hips pushed off the mattress, desperately trying to get more of Bianca. “Now, I’m ready, come on, fuck me now.”

A moment passes in which Bianca considers making her beg, just to get a rise out of her, but Adore is a picture of uncensored want with her messy hair spilling across the pillows, and her flushed dick, and the small crease in her forehead, and frankly, Bianca’s growing too impatient to tease.

Adore cries out loudly when Bianca pushes into her, sending stars flying behind her closed eyelids. Bianca’s propped a pillow under her hips and the angle is torturous and absolutely fucking perfect. Adore’s thighs shake with tension as Bianca thrusts all the way in, almost too slowly, letting Adore adjust to the sensation. It’s already so much, and yet not nearly enough.

Bianca moves experimentally and it draws a soft whimper from Adore. “Yeah— I’m ready, come on.”

And then, Bianca’s off. She grips Adore’s hips to tilt her up and picks up the pace as her nails dig half-moons into Adore’s ass. Adore is incoherent, meeting each thrust with small moans and broken, disconnected swearwords. Her lips are parted and swollen and glossy with spit, and Bianca stares in admiration for a moment before arching down to kiss her.

Bianca kisses like Adore’s darkest secret is hiding at the back of her mouth and there’s never going to be another way to get to it. It’s disorienting, like walking through darkness. Adore’s ears are ringing. Bianca pulls one hand away from her hips and a second later she’s tugging on Adore’s choker again. This time, she hooks her index finger under the strap and pinches it between the knuckle of her middle finger and her thumb. The leather digs into Adore’s throat and she feels it like fireworks at the back of her skull.

Bianca keeps her lips just out of reach as she tightens her grip on the choker, and it drives Adore to  crane her neck, desperately chasing after a kiss she can’t quite reach. The leather digs into her neck and she coughs right as Bianca thrusts her cock deeper inside of her, at a slightly different angle which makes Adore want to scream.

The sound that comes out is closer to a strangled whine, and Bianca meets it with a low laugh which makes Adore blush. Her chest is so tight she feels like she’s one second, one stray touch, one jerk of Bianca’s hips away from bursting wide open.

“Bea—“ she starts, and it’s barely sound. She gasps, dragging in more air. Bianca’s grip doesn’t falter. “Bea. I’m—“

Adore’s voice breaks a loud moan as Bianca drops her hand to her cock. Bianca laughs quietly, breathlessly, as she tightens her grip and gives her a few experimental strokes. Adore accompanies each stroke with a whimper as Bianca picks up her pace so her hand can match the rhythm of her hips. Adore’s brow is beaded with sweat and her hair is sticking to her face and she looks absolutely gone as she drives her hips up, over and over, in an endless race to meet Bianca halfway.

She comes first, with Bianca’s name in a sharp moan on her lips, cum streaking through Bianca’s fingers and onto her stomach.

“God, you’re gorgeous,” Bianca groans quietly, arching down to trace kisses along the red mark lining Adore’s neck as she keeps fucking into her in deep, quick thrusts, chasing her own release.

Adore is shaking, spent and oversensitive and unabashedly loud as each move sends a new wave of aftershocks through her body.

When Bianca comes, she goes perfectly still, perfectly silent, her eyes pressed tightly shut and her lips parted in a soundless scream. Adore, who’s watching her through heavy, hooded eyelids, chokes out a moan instead of her.

Then, the only sound Adore can focus on is her own heartbeat pounding in her ears as Bianca lowers herself down, burrowing her face against Adore’s neck. She doesn’t quite kiss this time, just rests there, her breath warm against the cooling sweat on Adore’s skin.

Adore drifts. It takes a minute, or maybe an hour, she’d never know for sure, and Bianca’s growing soft inside of her but neither of them moves. Adore’s limbs feel heavy, inoperable, and she thinks distractedly that maybe that’s not too big of a deal, maybe she can just be there for the rest of her natural existence and she would be okay with that.

Then Bianca moves. She pulls herself away slowly, carefully, like she doesn’t mean to disturb, and Adore still winces at the loss.

“Gotta get you cleaned up,” Bianca says softly. Her voice sounds raw, spent, and Adore finds herself hoping it’s still like that tomorrow. She wants people to talk to Bianca and know.

The sound of the bathroom sink running and Bianca’s footsteps sound so far away and Adore closes her eyes, lets them lull her into a half-sleep as her body cools down and stops shaking.

Minutes later, perhaps, Bianca returns with a warm, damp towel, and Adore breathes steadily as she cleans her up, too tired and too gone to do much but accept it. Then it’s more footsteps, to the bathroom and back.

Then, Bianca’s hands are working her boots open and pulling them off, along with the mess of fabric tangled around her ankles. It feels private in a new sort of way, as if this is where the moment would usually have to break but Bianca’s not letting that happen. Adore’s chest tightens and she lets out the smallest noise as she swallows dryly.

“You okay?” Bianca asks, all gentle attentiveness, as she climbs up and rests behind her, one arm coming to drape over Adore’s hips, her hand angled up to rest at her sternum.

“Yeah.” Adore’s throat scratches, and she knows she’ll wake up needing water. Bianca makes a sound like she doesn’t quite believe her, so Adore amends, “I’m here.”

Bianca laughs. It’s almost inaudible but Adore feels it against her back.

“Yeah,” Bianca whispers. She presses her lips against Adore’s shoulder and holds them there for a long time. “You are.”

***

A/N: the title is from this poem which you should definitely read, it’s beautiful.

[the-eternal-captain-harlock]

Captain Harlock - the Eternal Exile

‘’I could not bide in the feasting halls, where the great fires light the rooms – for the winds are walking the night for me and I must follow where the gaunt lands be, seeking, beyond some nameless sea, the doom beyond the dooms.’’

- The Outgoing of Sigurd the Jerusalem-Farer (by Robert E. Howard)

[I found this old Harlock article when I was cleaning out my inbox. It is 3 years old, I think, but still a gem. Admittedly, I was going through a minor bout of depression when I wrote it. Enjoy]

Planet Earth, homeland, fatherland, motherland, country, state, province, city, hometown, castle, neighborhood, street, flat, house, bedroom…home… Every human on this planet has a home…except a certain kind of person: the self-aware wandering exile.

Almost every person on Earth has a place in this word – some plot of ground, some house, some mansion, some room in a apartment complex, some farm, some ranch, some commune, some monastery, some trailer, some street corner, some bridge, some park bench, some tent, some little place where we can go to at the end of the day that is, whether in a big way or a small way, theirs…their own little place were we can rest and be at peace – for a time, at least. I have a place. And no doubt ninety-percent of the readers of this post (if there are any) are reading it from the comfort of their own allotted places – their bedrooms most likely, which are their most intimate and personal expression of their homes.

We take are homes, our cities, our countries, for granted. Whenever we leave, say, on vacation, it is a novel and exciting experience because we are leaving our home, our familiar surroundings and all that they imply – and going to a place that is not our home – to be in other cities, other states, other countries among other people that are different from us. We may be gone a day, a week, a month, or even a year – but we know, no matter how much fun we’re having – or not having, not everyone likes to travel – we know deep down that we are not at home…which is part of the whole experience: to leave home, for a time, and then return to it. We know, at the end of the day, that our home, our town, our neighborhood, our house, our bedroom, will be there for us when we come back. Even if it is a mundane place compared to were we have just been, we are grateful to be back, to be again in familiar surroundings on our own turf, to sleep once again in our very own beds, to slip once more into the comfort of our old routines and ways. Only when we are away from home do we truly appreciate and miss it – and only by having homes do we find ourselves yearning for strange and unfamiliar places (I want to visit Europe, for example – though I doubt I’ll ever have enough money to do so) that are not our homes.

To be homeless is considered a dreadful or tragic thing – especially in the West, and the quicker one gets out of a state of homelessness and finds a stable home within his community the better off society views him. For the Germanic/Norse/Anglo-Saxon peoples of Old Europe, banishment and/or exile was the most feared of all punishments or states. To be banished from one’s clan or nation was worse then death – it was a living death – without his lord, or his people or his homeland, a person ceased to exist, in a way. The long and heartrending Old English poem, fittingly titled ‘The Wanderer’, tells of a lone warrior, the sole survivor of a now-dead (via war and destruction) clan who journeys across the freezing sea in a little boat in search of a new lord and a new home. Although the man is in a state of exile through no fault of his own, the mental, spiritual and physical agonies he undergoes are no less painful and his sorrow and grief no less potent. Separation from one’s people and homeland, either as punishment or by necessity, is rarely considered a good thing.

However, there some people who do not really have homes, or homelands, or even a people. Yes, they have a certain race of people to which they are bound to by blood and a birth-country which they are a citizen of (these two facts are inescapable, if you are born on planet Earth) and even a house they might live in or own – but even so, they do not really have a home. In their hearts and minds, they are exiles – even if they aren’t actually living in a state of exile (meaning they haven’t been officially banished or cast out of their families or countries).  Some of them are mentally ill or suffer from personality disorders that keep them from fully engaging with their families, cultures and societies, even if they genuinely want to. Some, however, being natural-born introverts and loners, have looked about them and found both current culture and society wanting, and have deliberately distanced themselves from it – if not physically, then at least mentally, emotionally and/or spiritually. They may dwell within the world, but they are not of it – they are strangers in a strange land where everyone else it at home, outcasts in an alien realm that has little to offer them in terms of happiness, fulfillment or meaning. Their hearts burn silently for their own secret Arcadia, that privet Utopia of the soul that only they can enter and dwell – a place they can truly call home, constructed of all their hopes and dreams that no one else seems to share. Such is the doom of the introvert, the loner, the exile, the outcast, the one who walks the narrow road alone. Such is my doom…and such is Harlock’s. Maybe it is yours as well. We know who we are.

Such is the containing state of Space Pirate Captain Harlock. Harlock is an exile of the most heartrending kind: his is completely alone. Yes, this seems like a false statement at first – after all, doesn’t he have a crew with him most of the time, as well as numerous friends scattered throughout the colonized universe? Yes, he does, and I do not mean to downplay their roles in his life or their struggles, but when one looks at the big picture, Harlock is genuinely alone in that there is no other person (except his best friend Tochiro – who keeps dying on him) whom he can truly share his dreams and hopes with (or, rather, there is no person he wants to share his true dreams and hopes with). Harlock’s exile is complex in that it is both a punishment and a freely chosen state – one that he seeks as well as one that he wishes (at times) to leave. In both the original Space Pirate TV series and the Arcadia of My Youth film, Harlock is ‘officially’ banished from Earth by both governing Prime Ministers (one of which is a lazy, incompetent boor and the other a bought-and-owned puppet-ruler) under pain of death. However, it is just as easily arguable that Harlock would have turned his back on the collective patheticness of humanity and self-banished himself to avoid becoming like them or at least to avoid living under their rule. He doesn’t need anyone to tell him to leave. It is quite obvious that he can no longer remain there. By the time one Prime Minister gets around to publicly announcing his intentions, Harlock is already far from the planet, blasting off into the depths space without waiting to learn that he no longer welcomed or wanted. The grim foreknowledge of his fate seals him emotionally against the doom of exile and he stoically excepts the hand that is dealt to him, as unjust and unfair as it might be. ”Oh, you fools…dance to you’re heart’s content on that small world of yours [Earth]. Our world is the whole of space!” he defiantly cries at the closing of Arcadia of My Youth. Like the romantic Western gunslinger of yore who rides off into the sunset after his task is done, Captain Harlock flies off into the Sea of Stars after he has done all that he can do for his fellow ungrateful humans living on a tarnished, decaying Earth that is no longer fit to be a home to a true man like himself.

Yet as disillusioned as he is, Harlock can’t fully turn his back on humanity or completely abandon the Earth. In Harlock’s world, individual countries and cultures have all become united and fused as one – you are either a human living on planet Earth or a human living on some colonized world somewhere in space. But Earth still remains a special place, a place even Harlock hopes will one day become beautiful again, with men living as true, valiant men – not as slaves to alien races or cowards shackled by hedonistic lifestyles. In the end, Harlock defends and fights for the Earth not so he can be acclaimed as a hero, be freed of his outlaw status and settle down to a nice domestic life – he fights so his few friends can build a future and have a genuine life on the beautiful blue-green planet of their birth. Whether they want to or not, Harlock bids his comrades – Tadashi, Kei, Mayu, Rebi, Masu, Dr. Ben, Dr Zero, Tetsuro and others to leave his ship and help set things right again after much war and destruction has damaged the word. Planet Earth has been saved, but not for the Captain. Deep down, Harlock knows that his way of life, his mode of existence is abnormal and that it cannot be shared by his other friends for too long. So he leaves them – for the Sea of Stars is his Sea, and somewhere out there he will find one day find his ‘final resting place.’

For it is Harlock’s own personality and way of life that sets him apart from the bulk of humanity, predestining him to a life of loneliness and isolation. Coming from a long and unbroken line of Germanic pirate-knights who have been forever yearning for the freedom of the skies and, later, for the oceans of space, it is not really surprising how the life(s) of Captain Harlock turned out. In Arcadia of My Youth, 1,000 years ago, Harlock’s ancient ancestor, Phantom F. Harlock II, after stowing the ancestor of his best friend, Tochiro Oyama on his Messerschmitt fighter plane during WWII and flying to the safety of neutral Switzerland, express this beautiful yearning for Arcadia, for his home [which then could still be found on Earth], all those ages ago with graceful and poetic words:

Phantom F. Harlock to Tochiro: ‘’Tochiro, do you want to go back to Japan?”

Tochiro: ‘’Naturally! What about you, Harlock?"

Harlock: ‘’Yes, the place I need to return to is Arcadia: Heiligenstadt, my home, whose forests and lakes are likened to that ancient Greek paradise – the place where my youth will forever run through the green fields. The homeland of the Germanic pirate-knight Harlock Clan. At the end of the journey, all my kinsmen think of their homeland. We hear the voice of Arcadia’s pirate-knight spirit calling.”

This is the curse and torment of Space Pirate Captain Harlock: what was true for his ancestors is just as true for him – he is still looking for Arcadia, desiring Arcadia, remembering Arcadia, dreaming of Arcadia. But the Arcadia of his youth no longer exists; Earth is not the same as it once was – so Harlock roams the Sea of Stars searching for it, and he has yet to find it. Instead, all he finds is evil, conflict, war, loss, tragedy and death. And what is worst of all, Harlock is surrounded, hated, feared and hunted by people who don’t give a damn about beauty, or peace, or valor, or sacrifice. Harlock’s presence is an agony to many because he is, in a manner of speaking, the last true man – an agonizing reminder of what mankind once was, and what it no longer is.

The way Harlock looks, dresses, acts, moves, thinks, feels and lives is entirely at odds with most the human race during his time. Apart from a few close friends, admirers and crew-mates, everyone else is either scared witless of him or wants to kill him. The rulers of Earth blame him for all their mistakes and problems. Huge bounties are placed on his head – as well as Tochiro’s, when he is alive –  and whole fleets of battleships are dispatched by his enemies to scour the galaxy for him, never giving him a chance to properly rest or find a new home. Trouble follows him almost wherever he goes, and many good friends wind up dying in his arms as a direct or side result of choosing to aid and/or associate with him. To be a comrade of Harlock’s and a member of his crew is a choice not to be taken lightly. Yet Harlock never forces anyone to join him or swear alliance to him. It is the Arcadia’s Jolly-Roger ‘flag of freedom’ and whatever is inside their hearts that they must fight for, and if they ever want to leave, Harlock will not stop them. Indeed, Harlock has given entire crews the boot after the main mission has been accomplished and the main baddie defeated; knowing that they are better off on Earth now that the planet is once more a liberated place they can thrive in and trusting them set to it in order.

But Harlock is never to join them. The doom of being an outcast hangs over him even after the struggles are over, and this time it is Harlock himself who is responsible for the isolation and exile that defines him as a person. He really has no home apart from the Arcadia. And while the battleship is his haven and place of refuge, it is also – in a way – his prison: the near-indestructible shell that barricades him off from the rest of humanity. Without the Arcadia he wouldn’t fully be Captain Harlock. And that is how Harlock ultimately desires it. He embraces the solitude, the ‘life wandering space, looking for a place to die.’ He is an eternal exile – stoically traversing the galaxy with the abiding spirit of Tochiro forever by his side, looking, forever looking, for the true Arcadia, the one and only place where he can finally be at peace.

To read my other Harlock articles please go HERE