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fredwkong · 1 year

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You and your boyfriend had been going through a rough patch lately. Being a pair of nerdy programmers who spent your free time gaming in different rooms didn’t make for an exciting dating life. Plus, the sex had gotten stale.

You had decided to bring back the spark. Instagram had served you an ad for an “all-inclusive fantasy vacation” from FWK Vacations. It seemed like they offered roleplay vacations. You’d walked in on your boyfriend watching frathouse porn enough times that you knew exactly what kind of fantasy he’d be into. Plus, the “frat bro vacay” package had a discount if you bought it for a full week!

You finalised your purchase, and only after you had paid did you notice that you had never been prompted to choose your vacation dates. You checked your email and read:

“Thanks for your purchase from FWK Vacations. We’re connecting you to your frat bro vacay right now! Please get comfortable and prepare.”

You furrowed your brow, but before you could properly panic, you felt a wave of exhaustion wash over you. As you fell asleep, you heard your boyfriend drop his game controller in the other room as he also collapsed.

You woke up what felt like moments later, and your nostrils were immediately assailed by a stench so strong it felt like it had a physical presence. It was a mix of man sweat, stale farts, and sour beer. You opened your eyes to see a suspiciously stained white ceiling over your head, very different from your bedroom. As you shifted, you realised that you were lying under the heavy weight of another man. And you were both crammed into a twin bed.

At this point, you also began to notice the changes to your body. You looked like a total gymrat, with thick muscles covered in sweaty hair. You were wearing sweat-stained gym shorts over a crusty jockstrap, like you’d gotten home from the gym and passed out. When you grabbed the phone on the floor next to the bed—a new iPhone with a cracked screen—you saw a rugged, manly face with a thick beard and dark curly hair.

The whole room was a mess. Empty beer cans littered the floor, along with discarded gym gear and a used condom or two. The closet didn’t have doors, showing a solid wall of stringer tanks, compression gear, and a whole rubbermaid bin of jockstraps.

Somewhere in the back of your mind you thought you should probably be panicking, but a much bigger part of you let out a dumb chuckle in your deep, douchey voice. What a perfect morning. You slapped the other man’s—your boyfriend’s—ass. “Bro, get your fat ass up,” you told him.

Like you, your boyfriend had just a moment of confusion as he looked around the room. He took in his burly bro body and sexy face, then gave you an airheaded grin. “Bruh, check this out.” He turned around, put his ass in your face, and farted.

You chortled, and you felt your dick chub up in your jock. “Bro, that’s so against dorm rules,” you said. In one motion, you slid out of your shorts and jockstrap. Then you grabbed your bro-friend’s head. He started to wrestle against you, your thick bodies battling for dominance, but you stuck his face in your unwashed armpit and he relaxed. You had a full hard-on now, your thick bro cock hot against your bro’s hip.

“Here’s your punishment for breakin’ the rules, bro,” you told your bro, and you hooked your jockstrap over his head, making sure the cum-crusted pouch was over his nose and mouth. “Gotta keep that on through house breakfast.”

Your bro seemed totally blissed out on the smell. “Huhuhu… Bruh, that means you gotta go naked, tho.”

You grinned and gave your big cock a few pumps, then flexed your massive arms. “Of course, bro. Who needs clothes when you’re a fuckin’ god.”

Looks like your vacation is off to a great start!

Want to go on vacation? Drop me an ask!

#broification #dumber tf #fratification #muscle tf #musk tf #frat tf #male transformation #reality change #male tf #all fwkong #tf vacation #jockification

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kimmiessimmies · 4 months

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Honeycomb Hills Apartments

Malte's home!

I shared a preview yesterday, but here is the full post. And when I say full, I mean "OMFG, Kim did you really have to write another essay?!" Yes. That kind of full. I'm not even sorry.

I was so happy about finishing these apartments that I plunked down three in a row. 😄

Each building has four apartments, all similar: 2 bed, 1,5 bath.

Currently, I only moved one person in: Mister Malte Nerhus, aka Rachel's... I wanna say boyfriend, but then I might be getting ahead of things... crush! Let's say crush!

Malte came to Honeycomb with not a lot of money in his pocket, happy and eager to start working at the university library. When he started looking for a place to live, a two-bedroom apartment wasn't really what he had in mind, (Malte would have been fine in a studio apartment) but it was the only thing available to non-students in Honeycomb Hills and the rent was quite affordable because these apartments are part of an experimental project set up as part of "Greenify Honeycomb Valley": the tenants of the first apartments get a discount on their rent if they fill out regular questionnaires containing questions on how to make the apartment more sustainable and eco-friendly.

So, Malte moved into a two-bedroom apartment, claiming the smaller bedroom as his own and leaving the larger one empty. If they decided to come over, it could potentially sleep his entire family (his mother, grandmother, and two sisters). He spent his money wisely and using the resources available, soon made a home out of this place.

The large windows are Malte's favourite feature of his home. He built sofas out of old mattresses. The Honeycomb campus has two rather large student dorms and whenever a student graduates and moves out of the dorm, the mattress on the bed they used gets replaced for the next resident. Some of those old mattresses are too filthy to even look at, but many are actually still in good shape. Priding itself on being green, the university actually has a website on which they put up old-but-still-good-for-another-round furnishings, free-to-collect. Malte put new, cheap coverings on the mattresses. Easy to take off and wash when needed.

Malte loves cushions and blankets. You find those all around the house. Some were already his, the others were flea-market and thrift store finds, just like all the rugs in his home. Old crates function as a coffee table and makeshift shelves. Of course there's books everywhere. The lamps are wall fixtures that were already in the house, as were the curtains, and the poster on the wall is the cover of one of Malte's favourite books, gifted to him by his colleagues from the library where he works as a housewarming present. The guitar and the laptop are Malte's own possessions and the plants are the one item he actually spent a bit of money on, because plants are a must.

Malte is a creative spirit. Painting, drawing, writing and making music all keep him sane. The painting easel was a thrift store find, and to protect the floors of his rented home, Malte put down a tarp underneath. The easel faces the window, of course. All the artwork on the wall is made by Malte or his sister Solveig. The shelves he built himself from old wood and on the top shelf there's a picture of Malte and his family. A little reminder of home.

The kitchen came with the apartment. The table consists of a couple of boards on two sets of trestles. That was an easy build.

The two folding chairs (there's a third folded against the wall next to the fridge) Malte brought from home and the other two chairs are old discarded university classroom furniture Malte found on the previously mentioned website.

Malte's bike has a place on the wall. It's his main means of transportation. The car in which he took Rachel on their second date wasn't his, a colleague lend it to him.

In the other corner of the room, there's a little workspace. The desk was another university reject and the chair a thrift store find. The paintings are Malte's own work and the pictures show him and his mother and eldest sister.

Here we have three very similar pictures from Malte's bedroom, but I still wanted to use them all xD. Here we find old mattresses again, although the top one is new. Old crates also make great night stands and a bedroom without books isn't a bedroom. The yellow lamp is a thrift store find and the green one a Swedish furniture store one. On Malte's nightstand there's a picture of his mother, grandmother and sisters. The poster above his bed as well as two on the other wall (see next picture) are enlarged prints of Saarqartoq pictures. Rachel had these printed as a gift for Malte because she knows he does miss home sometimes.

Malte doesn't have a wardrobe, but installed a rod against the wall which does the job perfectly.

In the orignal design of the room, the architect intended for people to place a bed below the high window. Malte thought this idea was no good at all. He wanted to wake up with a view! So he went against the design of the room and put his bed against the wall so it faced the tall windows and the green outside. The watermelon bean bag was his latest thrift store gem. It was just too cool to pass by.

And that concludes the tour of Malte's home. There's also a bathroom, which is just a bathroom, and a balcony, which I didn't take any pictures of at this time, but which will show up in a story post, I'm sure.

#visit honeycomb #ts3 #the sims 3 #sims 3 #lot tour #residential lot

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shotbycup1d · 3 months

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Guide to Camp Jupiter: Shopping in New Rome-Part 1

(Tip: ALWAYS bring a child or legacy of Mercury with you to go shopping in new rome, an expert bargainer. Discounts and freebies guaranteed, I bagged a 75% discount from a boutique before, trust me.)

-There is a line of fashion shops, this is how the campers get their regular supply of jeans, combat boots, running shoes. And of course Octavian’s Cargo Pants.

-The fashion shops are the ones that supply the camp’s purple t-shirts and togas.

-Plant shop with a connected plant nursery, children and legacies of Ceres frequent this location, they supply fresh produce to Camp Jupiter and grow medicinal herbs that the camp infirmary uses to cure diseases or heal injuries. -Restaurants with traditional Roman food and a mix of western cuisine. They also serve wine to the residents of New Rome & campers over 21.

-A really tall bookstore building with 5 stories, you can either borrow the library sectioned copies or buy the wrapped ones. There are comfortable plush couches on every level with soft rugs covering the marble floors.

-There is a city square at the centre of New Rome, a space for festivals, carnivals, music concerts (from children and legacies of Apollo) and can be rented out to use for private events.

-Right on the Main Street, there is a giant bakery that sells enchanted (and non enchanted) pastries, cakes, just about whatever confectionery you can think of. They are THE biggest supplier of sweet treats in New Rome and they have a catering service for all those rich legacy families when it’s a kid’s birthday. I highly recommend you get their triple chocolate chip cookies, they are the closest thing to ambrosia in my opinion.

-And moving on from the food we have a certain Augur’s (or actually Haruspex’s) favourite store. The New Rome branch of Build-A-Bear. Now I’m not sure how they managed to open a store here without blowing the whole ‘Modern Rome’ stuff on the mortal supervisors of the franchise but they probably have some front like how the Greeks at Camp Half Blood have their strawberry business. I’ve got to admit this place is great, apart from selling pre-made and custom plushies, they also have a selection of bed sheets to pillows in case you want some for your bunk back at Camp Jupiter. (Seriously, this is the only way to express yourself because posters or anything on the walls of the barracks are banned, I’ve seen too many Tristan McLean bed sheets from my half-siblings though. What is it with children of Venus and that man?)

hope you liked this one, ( I didn’t proofread it so excuse any mistakes) Let me know your own takes on this)

link to other works:

Cohort Barracks

Shopping In New Rome Part 2

#pjo headcanon #pjo hoo toa #pjo fandom #pjo series #hoo #heroes of olympus #headcanons #hoo headcanon #new rome #camp jupiter #camp Jupiter headcanons #shopping #pjo octavian

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sanddef · 4 months

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Interlude | May as Rebirth

1100 words

It was almost May in Camelot, the weather was warming and the ebbs of wind were just beginning to cease. Flowers were blooming by the creek, water lilies, and daffodillies, and Mordred sucked a drop of blood from his finger. He placed the roses he picked onto a nearby grave, and kept walking. It was bizarre, mourning those he knew would hate that attention. Mordred could almost see Gaheris’ grimace, Gareth’s wet eyes, Agravaine’s empty stare.

‘They said your name a million times at the wake.’ Mordred told him, ‘Isn’t that what you always wanted? To be celebrated? You should have seen how the king held you. You’d think you were his very own son.’

Of course, Agravain didn’t respond. He didn’t snark, didn’t even humor him. He never will again.

‘Well fuck you too.’

It was almost May in Camelot, and the staff usually would be making preparations in a few weeks. Between May Day and birthdays to celebrate (though never Mordred’s, admitting the date of his birth only ever got him sympathetic looks and hard-to-answer questions) it seemed May was one big celebration. Of course, to any common knight, any of these supposed holidays were just pretense. Who gave a shit about Gawain’s birthday other than people trying to curry favor? By the end, knights could hardly tell you the day of the week if they were even sober enough to speak. The staff would be exhausted.

Mordred stopped walking, shook his head, and continued. He quickly steered his thoughts away from Gareth. Gareth, who always got him something for his birthday, despite Mordred’s wishes. He was utterly gone by May 31st last year, somewhere between the busyness and the merriment he had forgotten, or just forgone, moderation. Mordred had simply put him to bed, leaving quickly and letting his gentlest brother forget that he had borne witness to his momentary degeneration.

‘I knew no one could be perfect.’ He told no one at all. ‘You’ve always told me that.’

It was always about Gawain, but still.

Almost May in Camelot and where were all the people? The hall seemed empty, only a few straggling knights and servants. Lucan didn’t meet his eyes when Mordred waved him over, his face neutral and steady, he poured him a cup of wine. Mordred considered dropping the chalice, let him not react then, as wine spilled across the floor and over them both, let him wash out some red stains of his own. At least he still had his brother with him.

Gawain would be coming back soon.

‘God dammit.’

Mordred took another long drink.

He didn't remember Lot's death, being much too young at the time, but his brothers spoke about him like he hung the moon and stars.

“Don't be like that, Mordred.” Gaheris had told him one night, his gaze tracing the scar on Mordred's forehead, “He went to war for you.”

Mordred was harsh, he knew he was harsh, and he didn’t need everyone telling him all the time. In his opinion, he couldn’t be the worst of his brothers, how could he? Yes, their deeds far surpassed his own, but so did many of the ones they swept under the rug, overlooked, or wore as a public confessional if they were clever enough. Besides, Gaheris had funny ideas about a parent's love. Mordred had to discount his opinion long ago. Mother's death was regrettable, but Mordred followed everyone's example and moved forward swiftly. Why waste time thinking about something so unpleasant?

“Why waste time indeed,” Mordred muttered, leaning back on his throne.

“Ah, my lord?” Sir Brunor was looking uncharacteristically nervous, “Mordred?”

“I didn't hear you enter.”

I didn't invite you in.

“I just want to offer my condolences.” Brunor sat beside him, again uninvited, “I know it's hard. Losing Sir Galahad and then your brothers and the king.”

Mordred grunted, gesturing for Lucan to refill his cup. Why even bring up Galahad? It felt like eons since he had last seen that poor doomed youth. He had died, apparently wondrously and prettily. Holy. They used much nicer words for it than ‘easily.’ Mordred had imagined it dozens of times, his final breath of earthly oxygen as his hands grasped for what he had chosen above all else. All that effort in blocking Galahad out of his mind, and Brunor had to remind him.

“My father is dead. My brother too.” Brunor took Mordred's hand in his, “I know how it feels.”

“These things happen.”

“Doesn't mean we can't avenge them.” There was that cold fire in his eyes that got Mordred's attention when Brunor had first arrived at Camelot, “You know that. It was murder.”

“Yes. Yes, if I learn anything you'll be the first to know.” Mordred tilted his head upwards, examining the higher stonework of the walls, stone put in place only decades ago yet never touched by human hands. He was starting to feel dizzy when he moved too fast. “For now I need your service, Brunor. We’re at war.”

And where would Mordred be without his supporters? If there was one thing he was glad to have learned at this farce of a court, it was how to perform.

“Yes of course.” Brunor straightened, “There’s a fleet coming from the south. Just say the word.”

“From France?”

“We think so.”

“You know so. We can’t afford to allow enemies any closer.” He especially can’t afford for it to be Arthur. Mordred was confident that even if he did return, there were enough people on the court on his side to end the battle early. He hadn’t done the exact math yet, but even a handful of kings had plenty of men at their disposal. Even so, it would be simpler if Arthur just didn’t come back.

“Shall I prepare an offensive?”

“A man after my own heart.” Mordred smiled, crooked two fingers, and beckoned him forward, “Come here, Brunor.”

He didn’t miss Brunor’s sigh of relief as he kneeled before the throne and accepted Mordred’s kiss gratefully. He really was such a good marshal, fearing him just enough. He was a good friend too, when Mordred still considered himself worthy of such privileges. At least the loyalty remained.

Keep him close in hand and he’ll never learn what happened to Dinadan.

‘I should really get married.’

Mordred knew just the person, but for now, Brunor was set to sail for battle tomorrow and Mordred might as well give him a few more hours of his time.

Hopefully, Gawain and Arthur were already dead. If they weren’t, Mordred prayed they’d die easily.

#I think my major kind of did crazy things to my naming conventions #whatever #arthuriana #mordred #brunor #lucan #mordred finally getting his toxic yaoi license #shout out to everyone who watched the adventures of sir galahad yesterday and got to see mordred on the throne. good stuff

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csphire · 1 year

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Purples, Blues, and Gold

Words: 1,800

A prequel to Rosemary, Lilacs, Lilies and Bergamot

Astarion is at a loss on how to go about picking out something new for himself when given the chance. Floundering a bit he reaches out to his love for help and receives some supportive guidance. Just a short and hopefully sweet fluffy one-shot that's been living rent-free in my head since buying him an outfit at the Facemaker’s Boutique.

Bodies scattered the floors and blood soaked into the rugs at the Facemaker’s Boutique. The staff and owner were still rattled by the murder attempt. But at least Figaro ‘Facemaker’ Pennygood was so thankful to still be alive that he offered a discount to them all on the spot. The last thing Astarion expected was for their defacto leader as well as his lover to actually take up the offer so readily. But in their early days, she was not above picking up rags and anything else not nailed down for a bit of extra coin to buy one more healing potion or spell scroll.

With a soft clap, Anna declared, “Well now that bit of unpleasantness is all sorted out, how about we all do a little shopping?”

He watched as Gale and Karlach gave one another a tired but agreeing shrug. They both made a beeline to pick out some long overdue fresh undergarments to start. Astarion however felt rooted to the spot for so long that she noticed, drew close, and offered her hand. Stopping just short to give him the chance to decide if he wanted the contact or not. He stared at it for a moment before thinking to take it in his, give it a nervous squeeze, and side-eye the others. His lips pursed tighter as one of his brows cocked high in quiet alarm.

In a discrete murmur, so low only he could hear she guessed, “Star… has it been a while since you’ve picked something out for yourself?”

After a soft embarrassed clearing of his throat, he admits in his own way, “To say I’m out of touch with the current trends would be an understatement. What do you think I should get?”

Read on here:

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salembehindbars · 1 month

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Born to work in a small, locally owned used bookstore that embodies the mid autumn vibe with antique furniture, a shopkeepers chime on the door, tall brown bookshelves that go nearly to the ceiling, and victorian style rugs covering most of the floor. With a cute study corner with Tiffany style lamps on the table, and the bookstore is a local hidden gem so it’s never busy or crowded, I get a 50% employee discount but because the owner loves me I get most of my books for free, I get first dibs on all the good books, I can wear whatever I want, sit behind the register while reading and journaling in between customers while listening to Frank Sinatra and Mazzy Star in the background and I get an iced coffee from the local coffee shop next door every morning and the owner is a nice old man who wears Ralph Lauren sweaters and brown leather loafers and is kind of like a grandpa to me and we play chess together on the slow days with no customers.

Forced to work at a retail store with mean customers, no benefits, an ugly uniform, tons of unnecessary rules that make working there unbearable and we have to listen to crap music because corporate sends us a CD with preselected music to play on a loop and we have no control over the music that plays. 🤢

(Yes I am a delusional teenage girl who has unrealistic expectations and romanticizes everything. Sue me)

#salembehindbars #gaslight gatekeep girlblog #girlblogger #this is a girlblog #girlblogging #girlhood #just girly things #hell is a teenage girl #journaling #born to serve #lizzy grant #coquette #hyper feminine #coquettecore #manic pixie dream girl #femcel

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soulofapatrick · 1 year

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Cabin Fever - Tommy Miller x Reader

Summary: You and Tommy are holed up in an isolated cabin during a blizzard, waiting out the storm and you find yourselves getting closer and admitting things

Words: 3.6k

Warnings: smut (p in v); fingering; fluffiness

Notes: I’m running out of Tommy icons/pictures 😭

Y/N’s POV

Tommy and I have been on patrol on all evening, having stumbled across a new building that needed to be cleared out and now, on our trek home is when the snow storm decides to make itself known. We had been riding for a few hours but the darker it gets and the heavier the snow falls it begins to get too dangerous to be out so we decide to find shelter in a small house we know is along this patrol route. It’s empty and safe enough to stay in for the night so we fight the wind that begins howling through the trees around us, making it even harder to hear anything, having to shout at each other despite riding side by side.

Our horses are struggling with the quickly deepening snow, their hooves sinking into the drifts with each step and I can feel Indiana’s muscles straining as he keeps trying to move forwards but it’s getting harder and harder and I don’t want to push them for too much longer. I can feel my fingers starting to numb from the cold, even through my padded gloves and my face is almost frozen, not sure if I still have a nose or not at this point. The worry of frostbite crosses my mind but I shake it off, seeing Tommy’s struggling just as much as I am and I’m starting to panic internally that we may not make it to the house at this rate.

There it is. Slowly rising into view and I think if I could feel my face enough I would actually cry with relief. The house is in an okay enough state, safe enough for us and so Tommy and I are discounting as we stop outside. Tommy smacks the ice from the garage area with the butt of his gun and I help him push the door up enough to get the horses in. They’re reluctant at first but with a little coaxing they’re inside, snickering and stamping their hooves in relief. Tommy makes quick work of securing the garage door again before we’re making our way into the house. I can feel my heart racing as we open the door from the garage to the kitchen, not knowing what’s inside.

We step into the kitchen, doing a quick sweep of the room with guns at the ready but there’s nothing and no-one here. The house is in pretty good condition, like it’s been frozen in time except for a few cobwebs and dust. I make my way through the kitchen, checking each room as I go and it’s really eerily quiet inside, the only sounds our footsteps and our breathing as we head to the kitchen.

The living room makes me feel nostalgic, the room being cozy and inviting with a fireplace and a plush rug covering the Harwood floor. A few pieces of well-worn furniture are arranged around the room and there’s a few personal touches like a vase of long dead and dried out flowers on the mantel as well as a few photographs hung on the walls. It's like the people who lived here were just ordinary folks, living out their lives until the outbreak changed everything. I can't help but wonder what happened to them, if they managed to survive or if they fell victim to the infected.

“Hey darlin’,” Tommy’s voice breaks me from my thoughts, “Come on, we need to check upstairs too.” He’s nodding toward the stairs and I nod back, following behind him with my gun raised and ready. The upstairs being a mirror of the first floor with a few bedrooms and a bathroom. We do a quick sweep of each room, checking under the beds and in the closets but there’s no sign of anyone except the beds are neatly made as if someone had just gotten up and left for work or school. It’s a haunting reminder of the lives that were interrupted by the outbreak.

As we head back downstairs, I can feel a sense of relief wash over me. The house is safe, and we have shelter from the storm. We'll be able to rest and regroup before we head back out into the wilderness. Tommy heads back to the garage to check on the horses, and I take a closer look around the house. It's a strange feeling, being in someone else's home like this. I feel like I'm intruding, but at the same time, I'm grateful for the warmth and shelter.

Making my way back to the living room, I can hear Tommy coming up behind me. He's smiling softly, both of us just relieved at finding shelter, ”Well, looks like we're safe for now," He says, clapping me on the back. "Let's hope the storm passes soon so we can get back to Jackson.” I nod, still taking in the coziness of the living room. It's strange, finding comfort in the midst of all the chaos and destruction, but for now, it's all we have.

Tommy’s nimble fingers undo my jacket for me and I can’t help but watch him move to hang it up on the coatrack as if we live here. The though of living in a house this quaint and beautiful with Tommy makes my heart race as it fuels my dreams of being in a relationship with Tommy. I have to shake my head, trying to push those thoughts aside as now is not the time for such distractions. We need to focus of surviving and getting back to Jackson in one piece in the morning so I move to sit next to Tommy on the sofa and he’s turning to face me, expression soft and open as he asks, “You okay darlin’?” That southern drawl heading straight between my legs despite how hard I try to ignore it.

“Y-yeah, fine.” I nod, looking at my hands and too scared I’ll give myself away if I meet his warm gaze but two calloused fingers are gripping my chin and I find myself getting lost in his dark eyes. I can feel my heart pounding in my chest when he smiles gently, thumb rubbing soothingly over my cheekbone.

His voice is low and a little husky when he speaks again, “You don’t have to hide anything from me, you know that right? Whatever’s on your mind, you can tell me.”

I’m swallowing thickly and I know he can feel it, my eyes flicking to his lips where his tongue has darted out to wet them before back up to meet his gaze again. There’s a tension in the air, something thick and sweet on my tongue as his mouth morphs into a knowing smile. For a moment, I forget where we are and what we're doing here. All I can focus on is the warmth of his hand on my face, the intensity in his eyes, and the way his voice is like honey in my ears. But then reality comes crashing back and I force myself to pull away from him, shaking my head and standing up abruptly.

"I'm fine, really," I say, trying to sound convincing even though my voice comes out shaky. "Just tired from the patrol and the storm. I think I'll get some rest.”

He’s reaching forwards and grabbing my wrist in his large and calloused hand, voice husky and full of want as he speaks, “Don’t lie to me sweet girl.” His voice barely above a whisper and it sent a shiver down my spine, body malleable in his grip as he pulls me back over to him. I find myself sliding onto his lap, knees planted each side of this thick thighs as he grips my chin again, his thumb running over my bottom lip as he searches my face for something. My breath hitches at the feel of the rough pad of his thumb brushing over my bottom lip, the heat between us almost palpable and I should be pulling away but something is drawing me back in. Tommy’s voice low and seductive, “You know you can trust me, right? Whatever it is that's bothering you, I'm here for you.”

The smug bastard, knowing exactly what he’s doing to me. I’m just nodding, unable to find my voice and all I know is that I feel so safe and secure with Tommy and I don’t want this moment to end. I’m leaning forwards, lips hovering just inches from his and my heart beating so hard I can hear it rushing through my ears.

For a moment we stay like that, caught in the intensity of the moment, the heat between us almost unbearable, And then, slowly, almost hesitantly, our lips meet in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s nothing like I’ve ever experienced before, the warmth and sweetness of his mouth against mine setting every nerve in my body ablaze. Tommy’s hands slide up my back, pulling me closer to him while my own find their way into his curls, finger tangling in the soft locks. His tilts his head slightly, deepening the kiss as his tongue traces my bottom lip, seeking entrance which I eagerly grant.

Outside, the storm continues to rage, the wind howling and the snow falling in flurries against the windows but it’s as if we’re in a world of our own, the only sounds of our heavy breathing and the wet sounds of out lips and tongues meeting over and over again.

Tommy’s hands then move from my back to cup my face, holding me gently as he pulls back slightly, breaking the kiss but still keeping our faces close. Our eyes meet and I can see the desire and tenderness in his gaze, making me even more breathless than before, his name slipping from my lips barely audible but he hears it from the way his thumb runs over my cheek lovingly.

“I’ve got you.” He’s standing, hands moving to my thighs so he can move towards the stairs and I feel my mouth dries as I know what going upstairs means, “You’re safe with me sweet girl.” His whispered words soothe my anxiety as the stairs creak beneath his feet, every fibre in my body knowing I want this too just surprised how quickly it all is moving. As we ascend the stairs Tommy’s hands never leave my thighs, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I can feel his warmth against my body as he carries me effortlessly to one of the bedrooms, my heart fluttering with anticipation and a hint of nervousness.

He’s laying me down on the surprisingly soft mattress, lips finding mine again as he scoots us up the bed so he can slot himself over me, hands moving from my thighs to my hips and squeezing almost possessively as he deepens the kiss, tongue exploring and drawing a small moan from me. His lips moving to trail hot and open mouthed kisses down my neck as his hands pop open the buttons on my jeans, fingers rubbing soothing circles into the newly exposed flesh as he mumbles sweet nothings into my neck, a gasp escaping me when I feel a rough pad graze over my aching clit, “I’ve got you sweet girl. I’ve got you.” The way he speaks sends shivers down my spine, knowing I really am safe with Tommy and he’d never do anything that would hurt me.

Tommy’s fingers move away from where I need him to tug at my jeans and panties, russet eyes finding mine with a questioning look and I’m raising my hips for him. He leans down to kiss me again, lips brushing mine, soft and tender at first before deepening into a passionate kiss. His tongue traces the outline of my lips, teasing and coaxing me to open my mouth for him and he swallows the sound I let our when his tongue brushes over mine, the passion building between us with each passing moment. The kiss is sensual and intense, making me lose all of sense of time and space, completely lost in the moment with him as his fingers slip through my folds and gathering arousal on his fingers. He kisses me a little harder, my hands tangling back in his hair as those two fingers gently push into me. My back arching and my walls immediately clenching around the foreign feeling and he’s pulling back enough to meet my gaze, murmuring sweetly, “Hey, hey, need you to relax for me sweet girl.”

His lips trail down my neck, teeth grazing my skin as he marks it for all to see when we get back to Jackson and his other hand is rubbing my hip soothingly as my body slowly begins to relax into the feeling. The curl of his fingers and the pad of his thumb rolling a tight circle of my clit has me slamming and hand over my mouth to muffle my pleasured sound but he’s prying my hands away, cooing, “No, no, I want to hear you baby. Let me hear you.”

“T-Tommy,” I’m gasping out, that coil in my stomach already ready to snap at a the sweet praise falling from his lips and he can feel how close I am in the way I’m beginning to flutter around his thick fingers. It’s like I’m climbing to the top of a rollercoaster, tipping on the precipice of bliss as my thighs slam shut around his arm and his thumb speeds up their circles against my hard nub, “Tommy!” His name falls from my lips in a moan as I ride the wave of bliss, my mind blank of anything other than Tommy and the thought of if this is what his hand does to me what will his dick do to me.

Tommy’s lips find mine, moving leisurely, thumb caressing my cheek as he removes his fingers and wipes them on the bedspread before they move to unbutton my shirt. He groans into my neck when he realises I don’t have a bra on, all of mine were dirty and I didn’t expect to get stuck in a snow storm so I risked it, knowing Joel would have my clothes washed for when I get back. The way Tommy’s looking at me makes me think it was a fucking great idea not to wear a bra as he’s got this hungry look in his eyes before he’s diving down to capture a nipple between my lips. My back arching into the feeling and my hands tighten their grip on his hair, drawing a delicious sound from him before he’s pulling back.

“You want this?” He’s asking softly, pupils blown out wide but voice serious and open, waiting for me to respond before he does anything else.

“Never been surer of anything,” I choke out, an intense rush of emotions flooding through me, “Fuck Tom, liked you for ages.”

“Ages huh?” He teases lightly, before moving away from me, leaving me feeling so bare and exposed as he yanks his shirt over his head and hands fumble at his belt, drawing a small laugh from me. He’s wanted this as much as I have, and it draws a heavy feeling of relief through me as he really does-

Fuck. He’s beautiful. His sculptured sun kissed chest glistening with a light sheen of sweat, face flushed and lips parted, freckles all over his skin and not just his face. My eyes drifting further south, following the trail of coarse black curls to where he’s fully erect, the head red and angry and leaking precum. My mouth waters at the sight, heart racing a little as he definitely not small and he’s very girthy, knowing he’s going to split me open no matter how much preparation he gives me.

Tommy’s moving back towards me, pressing kisses up my legs and thighs, stopping to suck bright purple marks into the skin before he trails his lips further and further north until he’s hovering over me. His left hand finds mine and intertwining our fingers by my head as he lines himself up, sliding the head through my folds and catching my clit, drawing gasps of pleasure from me before he’s capturing me in a breathtaking kiss as he begins to slowly slide himself into my aching heat. His head falls into the crook of his neck as he stops a few inches in, thumb finding my clit again to get me to relax into it as I was right, he’s splitting me open, whispered praise making me roll my hips and taking him in a little more before he takes the plunge and buries himself to the hilt.

I’m crying out, my back arching and eyes slamming shut at the slight uncomfortableness of it. His breath is hot against my neck as he murmurs in my ear, “Fuck darlin’, so fucking tight. Shit, it’s okay, I’ve got you. I-I… fuuucckkkk, shit, I’ve got you sweet girl.” His arms wrap around my back, pulling me up with him as he sits back on his heels, my legs wrapped around his hips. My chest is pressed against his, feeling his heart beating just as fast as mine as he lifts me until only the tip is inside then, almost too quickly, he’s pulling me back down, drawing a sharp gasp from me, “You’re so beautiful, fuck sweet girl.” His lips find my collar bone as he thrust up with every pull down, setting a pace that is somehow brutal yet oh so tender. One of his hands is wrapped around my waist while the other moves to grip my hair, pulling me into a dirty kiss, his hips canting upwards and pulling even deeper than I thought possible. This new angle hitting that sweet spot that has me seeing stars and dragging my body down with every thrust, capturing my cries and moans with filthy kisses that has the heat pooling and my stomach tightening as I’m teetering over the precipice of pleasure again.

With each thrust I feel more and more connected to him, more alive and more in tune with my own body. I feel like I’m floating, all my worries and fears melted away with the feel of his scorching skin against mine, letting me completely surrender myself to him. My nails scratch down his back as my thighs clamp around his hips and my heels dig into the small of his back as it feels like an elastic snaps. I’m coming so hard my vision whites out and my head flies back, Tommy’s name falling from my lips like a prayer, body trying to move away from him at the suddenness of the overstimulation but his large hands are holding me in place. The grip on my delicate skin tight enough to promise bruises in the morning. Tommy’s biting at my shoulder, grunting as his hips stutter and he’s laying me back on the bed as his hips sitter once more before he slams into my almost painfully. It’s a beautiful kind of pain when his face falls slack, lips parting with a guttural moan of my name as he tries to keep his eyes open to see me spread out below him. The look in his eyes makes me feel so loved and wanted and promises me that this isn’t just sex to him but something more.

“Fuck sweet girl.” Tommy practically collapses on top of me, face nuzzled in the crook of my neck and the wind and snow pelting the windows the only sounds in the room other than our panted breaths, “I never want to leave you. Fuck, be my girl? Let me parade you around town, let everyone know you’re mine.”

“Please.” I practically beg, feeling him smile against the skin of my neck before he’s pressing a sweet kiss there, my body beginning to ache and my eyes growing heavier and heavier by the second. As we lay there in each other’s arms, my heart feels full and my body feels sated. The intensity of the moment has left me feeling emotionally raw, but also strangely content. I feel a sense of connection with Tommy that I’ve never felt before, and the way he holds me makes me feel safe and loved. The storm outside slowly beginning to calm down, and the only sound is the gentle rustle of the blankets as Tommy rearranges us so we’re covered and we hold each other close. I close my eyes and let myself drift off, feeling grateful for this moment and hearing three words I never expected to hear from Tommy so soon.

“I love you so much sweet girl.” His lips brushing my forehead before he’s pulling me even closer, “I’ll be right here no matter what.”

As I drift off to sleep in Tommy’s arms, I can feel tears prickling at the corners of my eyes, overwhelmed by the depth of his words and the intensity of the moment we shared. I never expected to find love in such a chaotic time, but Tommy has shown me that even in the darkest of moments, there can be light and warmth. As I drift off into a peaceful slumber, I know that no matter what the future holds, I have found someone who will always be there for me, and that thought fills me with a sense of hope and happiness.

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

The Last of Us Masterlist

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reneethegreatandpowerful · 1 year

Text

The Restless Vestra

Fire Emblem Siblings Week Day 2: Fears

Length: Best guess is around 1200 words.

Rating: E for Everyone.

Somewhere in the house, a clock ticked. Oswald lay under his blankets, staring through the half open doorway into the empty hall beyond. The clock was the only thing making any noise. Well, if you discounted the creaks the house kept making. They happened every now and then when he started to relax. He knew they were just caused by the wind, but that didn't mean he had to like them. He turned and looked out his window, and saw a bat flutter past in the moonlight. His brother had once told him that if a bat bit you, you could go mad. Which had left Oswald a bit leery of them, but also mighty curious.

He lay back down, tapping his foot up and down on the bed. He just wanted to sleep, but his body said no. And lying here was boring. Boring, but what else could he be doing? He couldn't read, because he wasn't allowed to light candles unsupervised. He still blamed the cat for the burn mark on the parlor rug, but rules were rules. Rules could also be broken, but he would have to find matches, and that meant venturing out into the dark, wide house.

He got off his bed and crept slowly over to the doorway. He peered out. There was no sound besides the clock ticking, and of course, the creaking. At least this creaking was quieter. He looked right, and then left, and saw nothing except closed doors and shadows. He was incredibly bored in his room, but he decided his mom would kill him if he stole matches. Well, maybe he could sneak a snack. She probably wouldn't be too mad about that. He slid one slippered foot and then another into the hallway, staring over his shoulder, his eyes fixed on a particularly dark shadow near his mother's room.

Walking one way and looking another isn't the best way of getting around. Especially when you step on something wet.

He stared down in dismay. It seemed to be a small animal. A mouse? Or a bat?! What if it was still alive and bit him so he went crazy, like Hubert had said? He backed away from it. He wasn't sure what to do.

Well, who better to ask for advice and a light than Hubert himself? Assuming he was awake. Oswald didn't know what time it was, and didn't want to rouse him, because he might get angry.

He quietly stepped over to his brother's door, trying not to shy from the shadows nearby. He put his ear to it. All was silent within. He didn't even hear the scratch of Hubert's quill. So he was asleep. Oswald hesitated. Who better to wake, his brother or his mother?

The door opened. Oswald yelped.

"Hush! What are you upset about?" said Hubert, his tall figure framed in candlelight.

"I didn't think you were awake," Oswald whispered. "But listen- I think I stepped on a dead mouse over there."

Hubert raised his eyebrows. Then he slipped past him and out into the hallway, where he crouched down in one swift motion beside the small, dark thing on the floor. Oswald watched him from the doorway.

Hubert looked at it for a few seconds, then scooped it into his hand and came over to Oswald. As he approached, the candlelight crept onto his grim expression.

"Hand," he said.

"Huh?" said Oswald.

"Hand!" Hubert whispered harshly, gesturing at him.

"No!" Oswald said, but seeing Hubert's face, he complied and held it out.

Hubert dropped the wet thing onto it.

Oswald uttered a quiet yell, turning his face away. Then he turned it back to look at the thing in his hand. It was a cat toy.

He looked up at Hubert, who was shaking with tiny chuckles.

"Very funny," said Oswald. "I can't see in the dark, I didn't know what it was!"

"Well, you didn't bother to look very closely, did you? Ah, well. Seems this fellow's had a swim in the water dish." Hubert tossed the toy back into the hallway, against the wall this time so it wouldn't find another foot. "Come on, before we wake Mother." He pushed against Oswald's back so he went inside, then shut the door behind them.

He went to his desk and sat down. Oswald came and stood beside him.

"You can sit," said Hubert, waving at his bed. Oswald got on it, and sat looking at him, kicking his legs.

"So, why were you stumbling around in the dark like a blindfolded monkey?"

Oswald huffed. "I can't sleep."

"Ah," said Hubert. "And why, pray tell?"

Oswald shrugged. "I don't know. Just not tired enough, I guess."

"I see." He picked up his quill with one hand, and one of the many papers on his desk with the other.

"What are you doing? Something boring?"

"Yes."

"Do you wanna do something else?"

"No."

Oswald looked down at his feet, and kept kicking them.

Hubert leaned back in his chair. "What did you have in mind?"

"Oh! Uh. Nothing, I guess. I don't know. -Do bats really make you go mad, Hubert?"

Hubert let out a laugh. "Where did that come from? Yes, getting bit by one can give you an unpleasant mind altering disease. Can. Not necessarily will. But I don't know why you bring it up." He watched Oswald for a few seconds. "Are you just going to sit there, then?"

"Well...I don't know. Wait." He smiled hesitantly. "Will you read me a story?"

Hubert looked at his papers, then pushed them away. "Aren't you a little old for that?" He was already getting up and turning to his bookshelf.

Oswald kicked his legs again, this time out of happiness. "No," he said. "Well, maybe, but I still want one."

"Then move over, or do you want to make me sit on the floor?"

Oswald scurried to the side of the bed, letting Hubert sit down and stretch his long legs down the quilt. He opened the book, and Oswald huddled up against him. Hubert sighed.

"What are you, a little child?"

"No," said Oswald, clutching Hubert's arm so he couldn't escape. Hubert shook his head. He put his arm around his brother and read to him awhile, until he fell asleep. When he did, with his head resting against Hubert's side, Hubert rose from the bed. He carefully pulled the quilt down and then over him, sneaking off his slippers at the same time. He tucked him snugly, then looked at him for a moment. He smiled to himself.

"Good night, Oswald," he murmured. He went back to his desk, where he himself fell asleep soon after.

#Fire Emblem #Fire Emblem Three Houses #Fire Emblem Warriors Three Hopes #FE3H #FEW3H #Hubert von Vestra #Oswald von Vestra #Fire Emblem Siblings Week #Fire Emblem Siblings Week 2023 #My Writing #Featuring Vellatra's favorite metaphor #This was supposed to be for the prompt “fear” but ended up having to do with books too.#Fanfiction

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goddessesgemstemufinds · 6 months

Text

Game Controller Area Rug

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#game controller #area rug #rug #home decor #fyp #temu #temufinds #temu shopping

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twofrontteethstillcrooked · 2 years

Text

Destiel Month, 7 Nov.: Decorate

"You're welcome," Dean said. Entirely too easy to smile at Cas these days. He kept catching himself doing it.

It kept…not feeling weird.

deancas ust, s9 au + human cas

Shout out and thank you to @clenster for a specific character beat in this one :)

Dean heaved his giant sack from Bullseye onto Cas's bed and grinned. "Check it out – we hit up the clearance aisle and found some good bargains." He felt like Santa bestowing gifts upon orphans as he started to unload his finds, the first of which were three green and white striped beach towels big enough even for his behemoth of a brother.

Cas said, "But those don't match."

"Don't match what?"

"The other towels." Cas's face was a masterpiece of confusion. "The other towels are pale yellow."

"So?"

"The other towels match the shower curtain."

"So?" Dean repeated as he sat down on the bed and snatched back the towel Cas was unfolding with such disdain.

"I thought the colors were all supposed to match." Cas sat too, looking contrite.

Now Dean's stomach cramped with the distinct feeling he'd just kicked a puppy for no good reason. "Who told you that stuff has to match?" he asked, attempting a non-threatening tone of voice.

"There were several magazines about home goods and interiors at the doctor's office last week." Cas began to take more things out of the giant sack. "The nurse who gave vaccines was running late, so I had time to read multiple articles. The houses in them were very, hmm, well coordinated."

"Well, yeah, but those houses are staged. Most people don't live like that – especially when it comes to bath towels, for pity's sake. Folks just buy whatever's on sale. Plus, we're hard on clothes and linens 'round here, so we're probably burning through towels more quickly than some would." Dean helped him unfurl a washable rag rug. "And look: this has all the colors in it. Matches everything."

"For the bathroom?"

"For in here, if you want it. These concrete floors are cold as fuck." Off of the return of Cas's confused eyebrows, Dean shook out the rug onto the floor up by his bedside table. "So when you first put your feet on the floor in the mornings, they don't freeze up completely while you're putting on socks or whatever."

"Oh." Cas toed the rug's fringed edge and smiled at him. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Dean said. Entirely too easy to smile at Cas these days. He kept catching himself doing it.

It kept…not feeling weird.

He looked at the rest of the items he'd bought while Sam had, arguably more responsibly, bought the bulk of the groceries and toilet paper. The clearance aisle had indeed been magnificent; the holidays were coming, and the store was apparently offloading anything that wasn't covered in holly berries or jingle bells. Dean wasn't an after-season kind of shopper under normal circumstances, or even an any time of year shopper most days of the week, but he'd been slightly like a man possessed in front of so many bins of discounted doodads and widgets.

Note to self, he thought: Investigate whether big box stores employ witchcraft to trick customers into buying more crap than they actually need.

Except – maybe he didn't need a five dollar lamp or a mirror with a classy fake copper frame for the low, low price of $9.99 or two dollars and nineteen cents' worth of tea lights that smelled like apple pie, but there was someone in the bunker who might, or who at least might like having them, need or not.

"Hey, so." Dean pushed the things into a pile. "This stuff was not expensive, and you don't have to take any of it if you don't want to, but um. You're welcome to any or all of it. The lamp would work over by the bed or on top of the chest of drawers. We could replace that plain old mirror over the sink with this oval one – it'd be a little nicer to look at, anyway." He walked over to hold the new mirror overtop the one on the wall in demonstration. "Fancy, huh?"

Cas looked almost shy when he asked, "You're not going to use these?"

"Nope. Yours for the taking."

"Well, I'll pay you back as soon as I can." Cas picked up the lamp and admired the turquoise glass of the base.

"Nah, don't worry about it. And we should see about picking you up a few more things. You could make a list. Lots of comforters and knicknacks out there to be had." Dean bounced a little on the balls of his feet.

"I'd like that." Cas glanced between the lamp and the mirror and the rug on the floor. "You did very well matching these for someone who wasn't even trying to."

Dean snorted, but weirdly, Cas was right. "It's probably 'cause I naturally have impeccable taste."

"Or maybe you were lucky." Cas's words had a bite his expression otherwise didn't, and once more Dean was smiling back before he could stop himself. "Thank you again."

"Sure." Dean started taking the tags off of the towels. "What else did you learn from those articles about decorating?"

He realized after about eight seconds that he didn't care that much about the answer; he just wanted to talk to his best friend in his best friend's bedroom in the home they shared.

Maybe tomorrow they could go shopping.

#destielmonth22 #deancas #destiel #spn #snippetfic #fic #destielmonth

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shop-korea · 1 year

Text

$4.97 - HUB - LOCKER - MOST

LIKELY - MR KIM - OLD PRUNE

BAG - WHO - LEFT ME SMALL

TENT - ON - TENT - CURL YES

1 SMALL - CHICKEN PIECE FR

KFC - KENTUCKY - FRIED CKN

JUST - ONE - ATE - THE - REST

DRANK - THE DRINK FEW PSC

PIECES - OF - KFC - SECRET

INGREDIENT - FRENCH YES

FRIES - NO - KETCHUP TOO

WHO - GIVES - JUST - 1 PSC

MR KIM - NEW JERSEY YES

KOREAN - OLD - MAJOR XO

WRINKLED - PRUNE - WITH

OUT - SHIRT - LOW - WAIST

VERY - NAKED - ABOVE FL

SAGGING - SKIN - MAJOR

PRUNE - I - THINK - I'M US

OLDER - AGE 58 TOTALLY

GOT - YESTERDAY - BUT 2

GET - 1 FREE - 6 PACK HAI

9TH ST - PUBLIX - COCA -

COLA - CHERRY - 0 CAL -

MY - NO 1 - FAVORITE - 2 -

ALMOST GONE WAS LEFT

MAJOR - FEW - 7 LBS - ICE

CUBES - $1.85 - BLK - GIRL

SHOWED - ME - JUST - YES

TYPE - ICE - THEN - CLICK

7 LBS - INSTEAD - OF YES

FINDING - BARCODE - NO

NEED - TOTALLY - SWEET

OTHERS - CHECKING - MY

EVERY - MOVE - AS - NON

KOREAN - SHE PHILIPPINES

MISS UNIVERSE - 4 TIMES &

OLYMPICS - 1ST - GOLD - AS

A - WOMAN - MISS WORLD

MISS TOURISM - PUBLIX FL

MIAMI - SAID - PHILIPPINES

ARE - THIEVES - (TRUE) - PH

WATCHING - EVERYTHING

WE - DO VIOLATING - 4TH

AMENDMENT - AS - BLKS

WOMEN - HISPANICS YES

FEMALES - GIVE - US HAI

'UNREASONABLE - SEARCHES'

AT - LEAST - HARVARD LAW FL

$500,000 - MAX FINE - AND OR

IMPRISONMENT - PER - TRUE

INCIDENT - SO - COOL - NICE

ONLY - HARVARD LAW - NOT

EVEN - HONORABLES KNOW

PENALTY - OF VIOLATING AN

AMENDMENT - 1ST - 10 - THE

BILL - OF - RIGHTS - 18TH YES

CENTURY - THUS YESTERDAY

MR KIM - ALSO - GAVE - ME

MOST - LIKELY - READ - EXP

EXPIRATION - HE - TOOK - A

FEW SLICES - NATURE's OWN

BUTTER - BREAD - 26 JUL 23

EAT - B 4 - WELL - AFTER YES

30 MIN - MY - JAPANESE - BL

BLUE - SMALL - FOLDABLE

TABLE - IT - WAS - FULL OF

BLK - ANTS - INCLUDING

THE - RUG - LOTS - OF FL

BLK - ANTS - THREW YES

AWAY - HOW - DID - THEY

ENTER - FAST - THEY YES

WENT - FR - OUTSIDE - TO

ENTER - RUG - THEY THEY

CLIMBED - TABLE - SO ME

CAN'T - HAVE - BREAD YES

BUT - ABOVE - PHOTO - AD

SAID - 6 WEEKS - AFTER U

KILL - ANTS - REPELLANT

WILL - LAST - 6 WEEKS BUT

DESCRIPTION - SAID 12 WKS

WEEKS - NOTICED - THAT 2

SO - SAID - SPRAY - FLOOR

CRACKS - SAW - THAT FOR

INDOOR - OUTDOOR - ALSO

ONLY - SAW - BROWN HUGE

ROACHES - THEY'RE - FAST

SPRAY - ON - THEN TRYING

2 - CATCH - AND - KEEP IN

THE - INSIDE - PUBLIX BAG

JUST - SPRAY - AND - ALSO

6 WEEKS - WILL - REPEL IN

THE - INSIDE - & - OUTSIDE

YESTERDAY - THOUGHT THE

ROACH - CAME - OUT - BUT IT

WAS - 2 OUTSIDE - LOOKS SO

ALIKE - ROACHES - LIKE - TO

STAY - HIDDEN - I - HAVE NOT

RECEIVE - TEMPORARY - YES

CREDIT - SCHEDULED - 4 HAI

TODAY - EVEN - WHEN - SAID

8 DAYS - NOT - IN - MORNING

SO - LATER - SAFELINK - YES

WIRELESS - WITH - NEW HAI

BETTER - PLANS - NO - SIM

CARD - AGAIN - PAST 5 DAYS

SO - MIGHT - NEVER - AGAIN

RECEIVING - IT - WAS PINAY

I - TALKED - 2 - BUT - PINOY

PINAY - OF - TRACFONE - &

SAFELINK - WIRELESS ARE

DIFFERENT - KINDS - OF US

CAREFUL - BUT - I - THINK

NOT - RECEIVING - SIM YES

CARD - NO - BIG - 4 DISNEY+

MANY - PLACES - ARE - YES

BLOCKING - OFFLINE - TRUE

CAPABILITIES - YOUTUBE - IS

BEST - NO - ADS - PREMIUM

AND - OFFLINE - THEY HAVE

JUST - GIVEN - LOTS - OF YES

'OFFLINE' - STATEMENTS BUT

YOUTUBE - DELIVERS - THE

OFFLINE - DOWNLOAD YES

PROMISE - BUT - DISNEY+

SAME - NO - ADS - AND FL

OFFLINE - DOWNLOADS BUT

MANY - BUSINESSES - HAVE

BEEN - BLOCKING - WHAT WE

PAY - FOR - SINCE - I'M - ABLE

2 - VIEW - DOWNLOADS - OF

DISNEY+ - at - HOMEWOOD

SUITES - BY - HILTON - BUT

NEAR - THE - WHARF - BOX

VAULT - THEY - HAVE - NOW

BLOCKED - DISNEY+ - $12.42

OFFLINE - DOWNLOADS - SO

YESTERDAY - ANOTHER BLK

MALE - HIS - NON-VIRGIN FL

HISPANIC - LOUD - TALKING

WITH HUGE - LEGS HER BLK

MALE - ALL - SLEEPING BUT

THEY - TALKED - LOUD PAST

2:40A EDT - SO - I WAS STILL

ASLEEP - 6:45A - BUT - 7:30A

80 DEGREES - FULL - FORCE

INSIDE - HUGE - TENT - AND

1 LEFT - BUT - PRICE - DROP

FR - 14 LEFT - BUT - ALL YES

SOLD - SELLER - ADDED ONE

SO - 1 LEFT - THIS IS EXCITING

4 - NO - DISCOUNT - 4 - THE 2

AMAZON - PRIME - DAYS YET

PEOPLE - BUYING - THEM SO

THOUGH - HER - SMILE VERY

BEAUTIFUL - BEST - ME KEEP

DEADLY - HURRICANES - YES

A - SECRET - IF - THEY DON'T

ACCEPT - NAT - CERTIFICATE

ASKING - OLD - KATHY - YES

BY - EMAIL - 2 - IT - WILL BE

UNDER - HER - NAME - WILL

YES - CALL - 4 - ADVICE - SO

KATHY's - NAME - BUT - ME

AGE 58 - THE - OCCUPANT

MY - DEBIT - CARD SO YES

DURING - 100 MPH - WINDS

STAYING - AT - NOVOTEL OR

HOMEWOOD - SUITES - YES

FARTHER - DOWN - THE - RD

SAME - SW 1 AV - THAT ROAD

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shoshiwrites · 2 years

Text

while spring is making promises outside — a flower shop AU featuring my OC Jo. Chapter 8/9. Some chapters a little NSFW.

Catch up at the link!

In July, she finds an apartment with Lena, Evie's friend. It's tiny but it's got hardwood floors and it's full of light. The walls are begging to be decorated. With entirely removable installations, of course.

Move-in day somehow turns into a gathering, with Clara and the boyfriend who's no longer a face on the screen bringing beer and a rug for the floor, and Frankie with a cooler and Tupperware for the fridge that still needs to be plugged in, and her and Bill and Joe with the boxes. There aren't many of them, which she feels something about, and maybe the next thing is hope. Fran stops by later with the baby, toddling around the plush flowers and birds of the carpet's design.

A while after they've all left, and Lena's gone to meet a classmate for coffee — in Clara's absence Jo feels obligated to raise an affectionate eyebrow — Joe comes back with a clean shirt and a bunch of dusk-colored roses in his hand.

"You need a record player," he says, switching on the radio.

She makes a face. "Don't tell me you're secretly a snob." They've gotten in play-fights over his cassettes before, the ones he still insists taking with him in the truck on long rides to events. It is possibly very annoying that the truck, old enough to still have a cassette deck, justifies him in this regard.

"I got a friend who fixes 'em up."

"Can you get me a discount?"

"You think I'd make my girl pay for her own gift?"

Her heart jumps at that, without warning. "I'm your girl?" It sounds ridiculous when she says it like that, when she doubts what's standing there in front of her putting flowers in a jar.

"You want me to prove it?"

She exhales, rolls her head back all exaggerated, and he laughs.

"You like it when I say that?"

"Stop," she laughs.

Faintly on the radio behind him there's a shimmering bassline, a drawn-out vocal. "Dance with me?" She doesn't move. "C'mon, gotta practice for the big to-do."

It's not for a couple more weeks, Bill and Fran's wedding. Joe's tux hangs in his closet, under the plastic, and her dress is still back at her old room.

"I'm proud of you," she says, nuzzling up under his chin. The words are so quiet, and only for him. He kisses her hairline in agreement. They sway for a few moments, letting the second stretch. His voice is warm against her ear. "Ma says I'm bringing you to dinner next week or I'm not invited." She freezes a little, and he only holds her tighter. "Hey, she'll love you. I showed my sisters some of your stuff and they're fighting over who gets to hire you first." She's still trying to straighten her shoulders. "Listen," he says, "they'll love you." Because I love you. "You're my girl."

The wedding spills over with joy. The arrangements are huge, orange and red and pink, and beautiful against the ivory. Fran has a crown of roses, and a little matching headband for her daughter. Everything is summer. There's fans everywhere for the heat, cold lemonade at the VFW hall for the reception. Jo hand-lettered the signs, with line drawings of the flowers. She can't hide her smile when she overhears the compliments.

Frankie sidles up somewhere between the hors d'oeuvres and the dancing and squeezes her hand. "We did good," she says.

"Hey, I'm not the genius visionary."

Frankie rolls her eyes, but it's full of affection. "Talent can only get you so far." She's smiling, blonde curls escaping her messy bun. Her voice goes soft after a minute, and low. "It was never about charity, you know that right?"

Jo's surprised to hear the tightness in her own voice. "Yeah."

Bill gets in his I told ya so's about 47 times while they're dancing. Her dress is stuck to the small of her back, the floaty chiffon printed with watercolor flowers, and her hair curls around her ears. Joe tells her she's beautiful; she's happy just to feel like a person, someone here in their body, taking up space.

At some point they all kick off their shoes on the floor. It's all the old hits, the ones that get the grandparents dancing and the ones that make the twenty-somethings reminisce. Somewhere between Frankie Valli and Edwin McCain, he pulls her even closer. She's pressed against his chest, the dress shirt he's pushed up to his elbows.

"I think I love you," she murmurs, quiet enough for only him to hear. It still shakes a little, bare. She can feel the way his hold goes even more tender around her.

"That's good," he says. "Because I'm building you a desk."

"You're what?"

"You'll see it when you're over this weekend." They're not so much dancing anymore as him pulling her along, still caught on what he'd said. He kisses her, when he doesn't hear her say anything. Her nose brushes against the medallion half-hidden under his shirt. "And I love you too." The song ends, but they don't break apart. "You think I woulda hung around that much if I didn't?"

#shoshi writes #jo's tag #while spring is making promises outside #almost theeeere #that moment when you're formatting and joe gets in another line #what is in the lemonade at this wedding that we're being so clear with our feelings #shoshi's au problem

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