#say what you want about Margie's parents

[painted-bees]

Sometimes you just need to be held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to you.

I mentioned before how Raf doesn't really get anxious before a show, and genuinely enjoys performing on stage--but that the most difficult part of a performance for him are the hours right after a show has finished, starting from the moment he walks off the stage.

Almost every single time, no matter how fun or well executed a performance was, there's a kind of quiet terror that follows him off the stage like a dark shadow and infects him once he's left the safety of the stage lights.

He becomes uncharacteristically furtive, and while he will answer when spoken to, his responses are simple, short, with a kind of sharpness in tone that suggests a level of defensiveness. Like a child awaiting a harsh scolding. Because that's kinda...what he is, in that moment. He is waiting to be kept awake into the early hours of the morning by a lecture about what he did, what he didn't do, what he should have done differently, what needs to be improved upon before the next time. Or he's waiting to be told that he's gonna be on his own for a few days, because the people who are supposed to love and take care of him are "too disappointed to fairly manage him" right now. Or he's waiting to be dragged into a busy room populated by strangers he's supposed to impress while he's casually, conversationally picked apart in front of them by the person who brought him there in the first place; the person who wanted to show him off.

It's a frustrating reaction to have...He's not a child, he's a grown ass man--and he owes venue staff, and his bandmates, and everyone else backstage a modicum of respect and kindness, and to thank them for their work, and to revel in the completion of a good show. But he's not really...he can't do that. He comes off as quietly despondent at best, or kind of a stuck up asshole at worst. When he did shows with Lacey, she called it his "post-performance tantrums" and exercised very little patience for his 'immature sulkiness' following concerts. And the low mood would persist for a solid week then after.

Once he started doing shows and stuff with Margie, she'd initially wonder if his poor mood was because she had done something wrong, or didn't meet expectations, if it was a bad show.... It wouldn't be until the following day before Raf could find himself in a state of mind where he's able to explain what he's feeling, much less why. And...for whatever reason, he's reticent to offer the most simple explanation to her--because saying "it's a ptsd thing, just give me space and patience and don't take it personally because it's nothing to do with you" comes with the risk of being asked other questions about himself and his upbringing that he's not comfortable getting into and--it's a whole thing, in his mind. So the first few shows together are consistently...a bewilderingly negative experience for Margie, in that it's a very tense, quiet, insecure and shame-ridden 24-48 hours after the show--followed by delayed revelry days after the performance with Raf finally able to reflect positively upon the experience and assuring Margie that it actually was a great performance, and that he had a lot of fun--and they're able to recall their favorite moments together, etc.

Unlike Lace, though, Margie never digs into him about his behavior. She just mirrors his silence, and then--very uncomfortably--gives him space because she doesn't really know what else she can do, and--assuming she's the problem--she doesn't want to risk messing things up even more, since she doesn't know what she did wrong in the first place. And, you know, there's only so many times Raf can reassure her, too late, that she was great, actually. And so he finally does relent to telling her that this is just...how he is after a show, that it's no one's fault, he's not mad at her or anyone--it's just ptsd. That's all he tells her, and, as per always with Margie--she doesn't try to pry out more information from him about it.

Margie goes down her own little rabbit hole of research instead, and comes to Raf with the idea for a new post-performance routine (communicated with staff and such before hand to ensure accommodation) wherein they don't try to gladhand, or pack up, or do literally anything for the first half hour after they walk off stage. Instead, they find a quiet, dimly lit corner somewhere away from everything and just sit, and rest, no expectations, no obligations, nothing. Raf agrees to put this idea into practice, and it quickly evolves into, well idk... Being held and gently rocked like a child by someone who means something to him.

[starkstruck27]

Harringrove Week Day 2

Prompt(s): To Be Happy, Porterhouse Steak

Dialogue Challenge: "So, did you get what you wanted?"

Word Count: 666

Tw(s): none

“So, did you get what you wanted? Because I already told you you can order anything your little heart desires,” Steve asked as he returned to their table. It was Billy’s birthday, so he’d decided to take him out for dinner. He had already been planning on it, and since his parents were in town, he invited them along, too. After all, what better time would there be to introduce them? That’s how they ended up at such a fancy restaurant, even though Billy already told him he didn’t want his birthday to be a big thing.

“I got the only thing on the menu that I was able to pronounce, if that’s what you’re asking,” Billy said, grinning and taking his boyfriend’s hand under the table. 

“Even though I told him how to pronounce everything and told him what it was,” Steve’s mother, Marjorie, added in. 

“I’m very sorry, Mrs. Harrington, but if I can’t pronounce it, I’m not going to put it in my mouth,” Billy said, “Besides, I like a good Porterhouse steak.”

“I can understand that,” Marjorie said, “but what I can’t understand is why you keep calling me ‘Mrs. Harrington’. You’re making me feel like an old lady! I told you, call me Margie.”

Billy blushed a little with a sheepish smile, but Margie only laughed and winked at him. She liked him, and Steve’s father, Peter, seemed to like him, too, even though he was a man of very few words. Still, the ones he did say seemed only approving of the young man. Both Peter and Margie could tell that Steve was completely head over heels for Billy, and it seemed like they were good for each other. 

Margie could already picture the beautiful wedding they would have, and the grandchildren they would indefinitely adopt that she would be able to spend her retirement looking after. Peter could imagine it, too, but he was more focused on the sizable check he would probably have to write to make it all a reality. He didn’t mind it, though. He knew Steve grew up practically raising himself, and that he was often hard on his boy, even if he wasn’t there to help him learn to better himself. He and Steve butted heads more often than not, but Peter loved his son, and he would do anything to make sure he and anyone he cared about was happy. 

Dinner went a lot better than Steve could have ever imagined. Not that he was expecting disaster, but he just never knew what to expect with his parents. But by the time the meal was over, Billy had Margie fawning over him and Peter discussing some sort of business thing that he and Margie didn’t understand. Peter had even started laughing at one of his jokes at one point, but it wasn’t the stiff, stale laugh that he used when one of his colleagues made a joke. He actually thought it was funny, and it made Steve happy that his parents had taken to his boyfriend so quickly.

After they’d finished eating, Steve waved over the waiter and told Billy to get whatever kind of dessert he wanted. Billy chose cheesecake with strawberries, and just as the waiter had gone, Billy stood up to use the restroom before dessert.

“I’m glad you guys like Billy so much. You do like him, right?” Steve asked, suddenly nervous.

“Of course we do! He’s a very nice young man,” Margie said, taking a sip of her wine.

“Good, because I think I’m gonna ask him to marry me tonight. You guys… don’t have a problem with that?” Steve asked, tightening his fist around the box in his pocket.

“Of course not, honey! I’m so happy for you!” Margie exclaimed, smiling brightly.

“Dad?” Steve asked, sucking in a deep breath and holding it.

“Well,” Peter said, sipping his whiskey with a smile, “I gotta hand it to you, son, that is one hell of a birthday present.”

[guttcd]

𝐀 𝐍𝐄𝐖 𝐁𝐎𝐌𝐁𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋 𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐀...

CHARLENE CONTRERAS ( cisfemale, she/her, kiana lede ) is 24 and a LOUNGE PERFORMER from MANHATTAN, NEW YORK , but now they can be found in the MAIN VILLA. they are known as THE LIVE WIRE  because they are VIVACIOUS, but if things kick off, they can be a bit ERRACTIC. they’re PANSEXUAL and are most interested in grafting RHYS AND JENNY. one thing they want to accomplish in casa amor is TAKE A SELFIE WITH THE HOST. 

CONFESSIONALS  | MUSINGS | MIRROR | PLAYLIST | PINTEREST

 b a s i c s

full name: charlene maria contreras sexual orientation: pansexual occupation: lounge performer  age: twenty-four birthday: february 1st.  aesthetics: soft jazz playing in the background, talking for hours about the same thing, overdue bills scattered on the kitchen table, finding comfort in the little things, the smell of tangerines

h i s t o r y 

tw: mention of death

born in new orleans, she only spent a few years of her childhood there before her parent’s marriage ended. it was a hell of a messy divorce which resulted in neither one of them wanting to take care of their only child. so they decided to dump the responsibility onto charlene’s maternal grandparents, margie and chester.

fortunately enough, the couple were more than happy to take the young girl to new york and under their care. formerly a music duo back in the fifties and sixties, it was only natural for them to bestow some of their talent unto their granddaughter.

chester was a creative spirit who saw beauty and found muse in even the simplest things. an artist in his own right and his medium was the acoustic piano. margie on the other hand? a woman of action. driven and intelligent, armed with a euphonic voice rich and decadent like figs and chocolate.

charlene became their prodigy of sorts, soaking their love of music like a sponge and developing a passion for all the skills they were able to teach her. 

her grandfather passed away a little after her high school graduation and  shortly after her grandmother decided to go to a nursing home. despite charlene’s protests margie was very adamant about not being put solely under her granddaughters care, claiming that it was time for her to venture out into the world.

still, charlene would do anything for her grandmother and so she takes it upon herself to pay a good chunk of money every month so that her grandmother can stay in one of the nicest nursing homes new york has to offer. 

meanwhile she works at a lounge bar as a performer. sometimes she sings, sometimes she’s in charge of just providing piano background music, and sometimes she gets stuck behind the bar pouring drinks for extra cash.

p e r s o n a l i t y

+enthusiastic +perceptive +curious -obsessive -impatient -restless mbti: ENFP natal chart : ↑ leo, ⊙ aquarius, ☾ aries

she chose rhys and jenny as the people she would like to graft because jenny gave her rachel green vibes and from what she could see, rhys looked the most down to earth. but she’s absolutely psyched to meet everyone!

sooo freaking friendly tbh like the producers probably looked at her instagram and thought she was an influencer but in reality, she just has a lot of freaking acquaintances 

and an abundance of hobbies that shift throughout the year. really into video games right now.

has the most random set of skills ‘cus she and her friends like to sign up to groupon experiences on the regular. half of them will never see the light of day again but hey, if axe throwing gets worked into one of the challenges in here you certainly won’t find her complaining. 

at the end of the day, charlene is just a big ‘yes’ woman.you down to go treasure hunting? of course! wanna learn latin? sounds fun lets do it. let’s summon a demon? i’m scared but yes.

the only things she doesn’t have a hard time saying no to are drugs and relationships lol 

so with that said she’s never been in one! first it was because of her parental issues but more than anything she just couldn’t bother to make the time for one. but she’s ready! or at least she thinks she is and what better place to test that than a villa full of hot singles with nothing better to do than to find love?

so yeah, she’s here to get her graft on, get to know people, and have a grand old time.

definitely flirty but almost in a customer service type of way lol like a flight attendant that’s a little too sweet or maybe a waiter that’s a little too chatty.

isn’t really interested in stepping on any toes but is also here to find a genuine connection.

bestie is a performer and the world is her stage ( as cheesy as it sounds lol ) 

[sister-claire-critical]

No one wants to talk about it because the fandom is so white but SC has a race problem. Nearly all the black & brown characters turn into animals, like the Wolf witches and the Flock which are both portrayed as being primarily made up of poc. Almost all of the black women who appear in the main comic are portrayed as tough and muscular, even Azi who's supposed to be 16 years old (and also has a super beefy wolf form. Even Raksha, who normally is fat, has a beefy wolf form). Zora, who is definitely the most feminine black character, doesn't escape this masculinization and is still drawn with pronounced shoulder muscles and biceps. Then of course there's the way Jackson and her family talk and the character of Maman, both of which you've discussed before. Magpie also falls into the stereotype of being a dark skinned character with vitiligo who transforms into an animal. The entire character of Kikuko feels... weird and unnecessary, especially her relationship with Hanabi.

Additionally when Magpie and Jackson's relationships get introduced, their characters seem to get sidelined to "white character's partner". Even after their relationship was revealed, Olga still got some development and had a mini arc as she dealt with her new disability but Jackson... was just Olga's girlfriend. What happened to all that foreshadowing in the early MiMos about Jackson's relationship to her parents and her magick? Even Margie gets her moments as she has to reconcile with her abusive treatment of Claire but Magpie in the comic hasn't had anything similar.

Even the OT4 falls into this pattern somewhat as the development of the dark skinned characters (Lark, Hawk, and Pidge) are used as fodder for the light skinned character's tragic backstory. Lark had a really interesting role prior to this as Clementine's older sister figure who taught her sign language and was ready to get into a knife fight with a Shard for Clem. So did Pidge, with his own relationship to her and his magick eyes. But those dynamics either never got explored or just got forgotten, and now the only thing they're remembered for is being Hanabi's dead partners.

If it was just a couple of these things I wouldn't make such a brazen statement, nor feel as strongly about it. But all of these things? Coexisting at the same time? It's a bit much. And the authors are white- the more you read SC, the more it shows.

This submission has been sitting in my askbox for a couple of weeks or so. Simply because I couldn't find a proper way to respond to it. This is well thought-out and made me realize this problem, which I hadn't before. I couldn't formulate a worthy response.

I still can't, so I would just like to say that this is one of the best submissions I've ever received on this blog. It's well thought-out and extremely persuasive.

[ledenews]

Theresa Russell: A Rational Voice in Times of Emergency

You know 9-1-1, those three lifesaving numerals. And you know to use them when something is really, really wrong. Like when a law is being broken or someone has been hurt and in need of emergency care or when one person is threatening other people, and those scenarios are only a few of the reasons why people dial those three digits. 9-1-1. And Theresa Russell, a native of North Wheeling, has been the lady in charge of those three digits so long she was referred to initially as the “Public Safety Dispatch Supervisor” before the higher-ups cut the crap and started referring to her simply as the 9-1-1 Director. Ohio County’s dispatch center, located in the basement of the Ohio County Courthouse at 1500 Chapline Street, is a 24-hour service and she and her dispatchers were honored last week during National Telecommunications Week. Why? Well, have you ever heard a frantic person describing their house is on fire? About an uncle who accidentally shot themselves in the cheek? A mother calling about their son turning blue during an overdose? Or a child screaming about their parents beating each other? Or, have you heard an elderly woman call for an ambulance for her dead husband? A crash victim who was mashed into a median? Or have you taken a call from a suicidal individual simply searching for someone to talk? Be sure Theresa Russell has, and so have her staff members, and while you would have no idea how to react or respond, she and her fellow dispatchers must. That is why, for several years now, 9-1-1 dispatchers throughout the state of West Virginia have been lobbying to be considered pension-wise as, officially, “EMS first responders” in state code. Russell, her Ohio County dispatchers, and 9-1-1 personnel throughout the Mountain State are, after all, literally THE FIRST to respond, correct? Theresa is married to Randy Russell, a long-time Ohio County employee who recently was named the administrator of the Ohio County Commission. What is the biggest difference today in your childhood neighborhood? I grew up in North Wheeling at a time when it landmarked Washington Grade School, Wheeling Hospital and its nurse’s residence, Sacred Heart Grade School and Sacred Heart Church, Dotty’s and Delmonte’s Restaurants, Margie’s Food Mart, two Ross’s food stores (where you could forge a note from your mom and charge “stuff” on their weekly food bills), and Wilson playground just to name a few.  Friends lived on every block!     With the exception of Wilson playground, all that remains are fond memories of a great era. What is the best advice you have ever offered a younger person? I would have to say that the best advice that I believe to have ever offered is:  If you don’t really know what it is that you want to do with your life after high school? Choose a trade skill!   Something that you can take with you wherever you may want locate that would gain you immediate employment!  Trade laborers are necessary wherever you wind up. What sport did you play when you were a kid and were you any good? Please explain. Wweell, as memory serves, I think it was in fifth grade when I attempted girls’ softball.  Although I made it through a season, I say “attempted” because I’m a lefty who absolutely could not master the ability to catch the ball in my left hand and throw with my right hand! I recall my coach always joking, “catch the ball, take of the glove, and throw the ball!”  Haha … he was obviously a very patient coach! What has been the most frightening 9-1-1 call you have ever taken as a dispatcher? Please explain. This is a tough one because I really feel that I have trained my brain to only remember the ones that turn out for the best.  But personally, the most frightening for me would be a call that I took early on when I was new at the job. I took a call from the neighborhood where I lived. The caller said that a young boy was hit by a car while riding his bicycle. I knew my sons were out riding their bikes when the call came in. My professional side told me that I had to get the call out with no emotion, but the mother in me was scared that it could be my child.  I thought that I had done well but the paramedics who responded must have thought otherwise because they came across a private radio channel shortly after arriving on scene and said, “Theresa, you can breathe now! It’s not one of your kids!” Whew. Her family is what is most important to Theresa, and she keeps them in mind while serving all residents of Ohio County. Finish this sentence: ‘I’m so old, I remember when …’ Being a kid didn’t mean you got an allowance!  If you wanted spending money to buy candy, pop, chips, or just whatever, you went around the neighborhood and collected pop bottles that you could cash in for .10 cents each! Read the full article

[potteresque-ire]

This clip crossed my mind today ~

Kevin Tsai (蔡康永) is one of the very few Chinese-speaking entertainers who’s openly gay and has significant name recognition in mainland China. Born and raised in Taiwan, he’s a writer, a former fashion magazine editor (GQ Taiwan), but he’s the most well known for being the co-host of the Taiwanese variety show Kangxi is Here 康熙來了 (2004-2016), the popularity of which spread his fame into mainland China. 

In this clip from 2015, Tsai was a guest in the mainland Chinese variety show I Can I BB 奇葩說, along with the famed transgendered dancer, talk show host and entertainer, 金星 Jing Xing, who sat to his right. This clip drew widespread attention because Tsai gave an emotional speech about his being gay as an entertainer in the Sinosphere, and the difficult advice he had found himself giving to the closeted idols who had come to seek his help.

Predictably, perhaps, this episode was censored in China shortly after its airing. 

(Full translation of the clip below the cut.) (Trigger warning: homophobia)

0:00 I have to tell you the real examples for me. It’s that, in the entertainment circle, If someone wants to come out of the closet, They’d first come and ask me about it. I’m unfamiliar with many stars in the entertainment circle. They’d secretly go through their friends, roundabout-ly send a text, Saying that they’d like to discuss a certain something with me.

Then, I’d get the text ~ The other side said they wanted to come out. No one knows what happened to them that day, They wanted to come out, on that day, 10 minutes later, And 10 minutes before they came to ask for my opinion.

0:35 I can understand that feeling. It’s that all of a sudden, they had this 10 minutes in which They strongly wanted to be themselves. They no longer wanted to hide their identity from their fans. In those ten minutes, If I offered them encouragement, said “Go”, They would’ve done it. If I stopped they and said “Don’t do it”, they wouldn’t do it.

0:58 So. That’s why I’m under so much pressure. That’s my misfortune ~ I’m the only one Who’s both out of the closet and alive and well. (Pie note: referring to Leslie Cheung, who committed suicide in 2003)

So. I’d usually stop them. I’d say to them ~ From the perspective of loneliness …

1:48 From the perspective of loneliness, I really wish that many people can be my company. That, is it possible that Every time this issue (Pie note: homosexuality) is brought up It’s not only me who can be displayed and Who’s alive? That, we’ve got to let the dads and moms see that Even if you come out of the closet, you wouldn’t die; that Not everyone who comes out of the closet Would be forced into a dark corner by society Until there’s no way to go in the end.

2:16 So. From my (selfish) perspective, I really wish they Would, without hesitation, come out of the closet in 10 minutes. And let their every fan lose their composure with surprise That the idol they love so deeply Has actually been hiding themselves And has now taken the path of honesty.

But, from the perspective of reason, I’d still stop them and say ~ If you’re my younger brother, I’d tell you not to do that. Or, we can wait another half a year, Wait another year, until you calm down, and We’ll discuss this matter again.

2:54 The only thing I can do Is to prove to The worried dads and moms watching that We’re not monsters. We can have a good life in this world. As Ma Wei Wei just said, When you’ve reached the pinnacle of your industry, You’ll assure your parents ~ Oh, my (gay) child can, one day, Be so distinguished.

3:19 The problem is, Many people never reach that pinnacle. So, say I’m actively encouraging Those facing immense pressure from the family, Persuading them, saying ~ Do bravely come out of the closet. But I can’t take care of them afterwards. If, in a chance in a million, they believe me and Say, yes, I’ll come out to my parents. Afterwards I can’t take care of them. If they’re bullied by their villagers, If they’re marginalised by the students and teachers at school, I can’t reach out with my hand and Rescue them, protect them.

3:52 So, logically, of course I hope More people can face themselves with honesty. The more people coming out, the better. I totally agree with what Qiu Shen said just now, The more people coming out, The more difficult it is for the closet to exist.

Therefore, when the broadcaster from CNN (Pie Note: Anderson Cooper) came out, When someone from the fashion industry came out, When the CEO of Apple (Pie Note: Tim Cook) came out, For me they’re all great news.

But still, when by my side, the Idols from the entertainment circle asked me, I’d still be worried, Because they’ve never gone through What I’ve gone through. And so, I don’t have the confidence that When they’re met with such difficulties, They’ll be able to hold on like I did.

Jin Xing and I are … We’re both competitive, ambitious people. Therefore, we can, from our coming out, Ignite more of our competitive spirit, Declare war against the opposing forces. And then, we’re able to keep propping ourselves up. And then, I agree with what Fan Ye said ... People are becoming more accepting And so it’s getting easier and easier for us to exist. Easier and easier for us to prove ourselves.

5:00 Since I come to I Can I BB, Many people say they see in I Can I BB a me Who hasn’t been seen in Kangxi is Here. That’s because I don’t like to lecture. On Kangxi is Here I like to make everyone happy. I don’t like to influence people. I don’t like to lecture. But this show Has compelled me to this spot In which I have to repeatedly offer my opinions. And so, the audience has discovered a Me that has never been seen in Kangxi is Here.

I know, if I stand at the front line and Debate like Ma Wei Wei, Maybe I can still influence some people. But, sometimes, I feel … The bad thing is those setbacks I’ve experienced, That I know some people won’t be able to hold on. This is the weakness in my heart. If I can be like you (Pie Note: Ma Wei Wei), If I don’t have to experience those setbacks, I’d be more able to encourage them and say,

Everyone stand up, And then, tear down those closets well.

[writingcold]

Neapolitan Pt. 4

A/N: Welcome to Pt. 4.  If you’ve not read the first three parts, here you go:  Pt. 1, Pt. 2, Pt. 3.  I have to say, this part has the first Jake blurb in it.  Yeah.  Enough said there.  As always, I apologize for any errors, typos.  I keep combing through this beast and it’s to the point where I want to set it on fire.

Yup - once again: I’m going to put this in here - I do not know any of the gentlemen of GVF.  This is a piece of fiction, through and through.  Jake is just my blueprint to a very interesting character to me.  A muse if you will. 

Content Warnings:  Alcohol use, strong language, adult situation.  More sex.  The angst arrives.  Please be aware, there are memories of violence in this part.  Violet is more damaged than she appears to be.  

Word Count: approx. 5500 words.

Pt. 4

     Violet felt fed.  She had a delicious, aching throb in her core and soreness in her limbs that made her close her eyes and picture Jake’s face at its most feral and wonder.  She had woken to him curled around her, completely spent.  It was nice to sneak down the stairs and just make breakfast for two.  His sleepy face was adorable, there was no doubt that the man was pretty in all sorts of facets.  

     She had breezed into LPs after dropping Jake off with a kiss and a smile.  Tony was sitting at the bar, coffee in front of him and a mound of paperwork.

     “I should just make you bar manager and get the fuck over it,”  he said with a sigh.

     “Oak Hills pays better,”  she said as she moved behind the bar in search for his source of coffee.  “Besides, this is still ‘temporary’, remember?”

      “I know…  Hey, do you know anything about this Jana Perkins?  She’ll be here in fifteen minutes or so,”  he asked, eyes on his computer screen.

      “Is that Mark’s daughter?”  she asked, the face of a former classmate in her mind.

      “I think so.”

      She shook her head as she poured herself a cup before sitting down next to her boss.  Mark was two years ahead of her in school.  To think that there were people she was in school with had eighteen year old kids made her feel old.  The fact that it was also a guy she had gone to fucking homecoming with her sophmore year made her feel antique.

     He slid the laptop in her direction, open to the liquor distributor.  “How many are coming this year?  I still feel bad I only had two openings for your friends.”

     This was their dance.  She had bought her parent’s place five years prior.  The first summer, she quickly established a new tradition where several of her friends from work and college would descend on the house for a week.  By year three, several of the friends had purchased RVs and campers.  Tony would always give them the friends and family break to those who could fit into his campground for those who couldn’t park in her yard.  

     “Actually, there’s only going to be six RVs this year,”  she said with a nod.  “Eighteen total visitors.  Trey and Lucy are due any day now and Mick and Lukas are doting on their daughter as we speak, so a lighter crowd.”

     She shrugged, but knowing that this year in particular was going to be interesting since her big step back did her no favors with a few of her friends.  Ali was going to call her out on her shit as she had been doing since she left Madison.  The woman just did not understand that a step back or a redirect was not the same as quitting.  

     “What’s up with these guys that were here this week, Vi?  Someone said they’re a really big deal,”  he asked, standing up with an old man groan.

     “Yup,”  she said with a nod as she was jotting down selections for her libations.  “They are a band.  A very good band.  Nice guys, too.”

     He raised his eyebrows at her as he poured himself another cup of coffee.  “Nice guys.  That’s all you got for me?  Don’t think I didn’t notice that you had one strolling in here after you yesterday.”

     “Thanks, dad.  They’re up here writing.  They’re the ones renting Margie’s place,”  she said with a shrug.  “You’re probably not going to see them too much on the busy nights.”

     He did not like her answer.  “Maybe, if this kid works out, I’ll put her on weekend days and move Tom to Wednesday and Thursday nights.  She’s too young to leave in here alone those nights.”

     “Tom’s not going to like that and will probably quit.”

     “Damnit.”

     “Boss problems suck ass.  Sorry, boss.  What about Bonnie?  I heard she left Guilties.  She’d be perfect for the Thursday crowd.  She’d probably draw some regulars in on Wednesdays, too.”

     He shook his finger at her like she was onto something.  “I’ll give her a call in a bit.  Sure I can’t lure you in as manager?”

    “Oh hell no, Tony,”  she said with a shake of her head.

    Mark’s daughter came and went.  She was the typical eighteen year old looking for money for college.  She already had a full time job at the grocery, but was looking to pad her wallet for her first semester away.  Violet agreed to train her in the pending Wednesday and Thursday, with the understanding that they were training days only and her schedule would change as needed.  

     “You running out to the course next?”  Tony asked as she started to play with her keys.

     She nodded.  “Yeah, then stopping in town to see the folks.  Monday supper and all.”

    Tony and her dad had been long time friends, so at the mention of her parents he smiled.  “Hey tell your dad he needs to come for a visit, huh?”

     She waved at him as she walked out to her next work stop of the day.  Passing Margie’s place, she grinned like she could feel Jake’s presence emitting out of the house.  It was either that or the chaotic nature of them as a whole reaching out for her to drag her into some scenario that she still couldn’t believe she was a part of.

***

Jake’s POV

     Jake had not seen the early side of ten in the morning as a willing participant in some time. However, waking to the smell of eggs and toast, as well as to the lovely Violet’s smile and tits, was just the icing on the cake.  She dropped him off with a smile and a kiss that nearly tempted him into taking her right there in the driveway.  The woman fucked him like a possessed angel and he felt surprised and satisfied.  He was near the need of whistling as he breezed into the kitchen.  

     Josh was at the kitchen island like an old man waiting for the prodigal son to get his punk ass home.  He smiled wide as he grabbed a glass of water.

     “So the asshole returns,”  his twin sighed, looking at him with a hard face.

     “Love you, big brother,”  Jake said, unable to hide his wide smile.

     Josh glared at him.  “Really?”

     “What?”  Jake asked sharply, not really expecting this from his twin, let alone before noon.

     Josh set down his pen and leaned back in his chair like he was a sherpa about to school him.  Jake rolled his eyes and started to head to the deck for a smoke.

     “Jake,”  Josh said following him.  “We all like Violet.  Why are you-”

     “Not your business, Joshua.”

     “Kinda is as you’re gonna be fucking off a friend – again,”  he said quietly.

     “Name one-”

     “Carri, Ryki, Myke, Nicole, Ravi, Molly, Arika, Stevie, Mel, Steph to start.”

     Jake felt his ire rise in the back of his neck.  “Thanks for the roster, ass munch.”

     “I’m just saying, Jake.  Every damn time we land in a place, even if it’s for a week or two, you have to literally fuck up friendships with those the rest of us would actually like retain.”

     “I like Violet,”  he said, not really looking at his brother.  “She’s a friend.  She just happens to be a friend I like to fuck.”

     Josh’s eyes closed against his sentiment.  “Damn, Jake.  We’re thirty years old.  Perhaps it’s time you get past the whole man whore phase?”

     Jake hiked his heels up on the rail, leaning way back in his chair.  “I happen to like this phase.”

     “You know she’s nursing a hurt, Jake.  Even you have to be able to see it,”  Josh remarked, his lip curled in disbelief.

     “I get to be the one that can make her feel good right now,”  Jake said with a very wide smile.

     “Just do not cause that woman more harm,”  his twin said softly.

     “What the hell is that supposed to mean?  I haven’t caused harm-”

     “Every single one, Jake,”  Josh whispered.

     “Well that’s fucking news to me,”  he scoffed.

     “Why do you think we can’t continue being friends with those people?  Damn, I know you’re not that thick in that skull of yours.”

     “Don’t worry about this one, then, she’s the one that put the time limit on my ass,”  Jake sniped with a pointed look.

     Sam’s voice in the kitchen broke through the conversation.  Jake seethed at his twin until the youngest strolled out to join them, oblivious to their argument.  Josh was not done, but Jake did not need him wrecking the rest of the day with idiotic revelations that he kinda doubted to begin with.

     “Did you see that I got that riff finished?”  Jake asked Sam, effectively cutting Josh off and shifting the focus back to work.

***

Violet’s POV

     She was just home when her phone chimed with a text.  Violet took the time to put away her groceries and put away the dishes before she finally picked up her phone to find that Jake had texted.

J:  Chocolate on Sunday?

V:  It’d be my pleasure

J:  Does this mean we can’t have vanilla during the week?

     She smiled wide.  He liked their vanilla.  It had been obvious after their first round, followed by their second on the deck and the searing morning sex…  Getting a glass of water, she made her way out to the deck.  Her heart raced a bit at the thought that this man was affecting her in this way.  Sitting down with her laptop and the paperwork she retrieved from the course, she glanced at her phone.  She needed to be working, not thinking of Jake.  

      Violet opened up the work schedule spreadsheet and the timecard sheets to settle in to actually work.  Her eyes strayed to the phone that sat staring at her on the table.  

      “Fuck,”  she whispered, reaching for the flowery cased piece of evil that would distract her until she answered the pretty man.

V:  Vanilla can be anytime

***

     After working until nearly midnight, followed by dragging her ass out of bed at six to be at work out at the golf course by eight, Violet was already tired and it was only ten.  Parking the employee cart, she walked to the desk to look at the scheduled tee times.  Puffing out her cheeks after seeing it was going to be a packed day, she felt her eyes drop on D. Wagner.  There was a plus one next to it.  She had done all of the times for Danny and none of them included a ‘plus one’.  It was her handwriting, but the addition was someone else’s and it bothered her.  Squeezed into the corner there was a symbol for club rental.  Looking at her phone, she was tempted, but her attention was diverted by actual work.

     Ninety minutes later, Violet found herself coordinating with Roddy, the superintendent as two of his guys quit and there was a wedding party that had rented out the venue for the weekend.  She promised that she would find two to cover, somehow, so that the course would not suffer, nor would the crew.  She watched as Danny was walking up with his clubs in tow and Jake at his side.  Her soft intake of breath barely steadied her as the whispered memory of how his mouth curved as he moved across her body played in her mind.  Neither man had seen her, affording her a chance to just take him in with his hair in a braid, sporting what must have been one of Danny’s polo shirts as it was blatantly obvious that the man hated wearing the garment as it rode up on his neck that he continually pulled down at.  The fact that it was strawberry ice cream pink made her smile and wonder if he did that on purpose.  Although, pink against his tanned skin made her drool a bit.

     “Hello Violet!”  a voice from behind her called out.

     Cursing, she did not want to be wrenched from her thoughts but turned and smiled as she was greeted by friends of her dad.  She smiled and listened, and answered their questions about how he was doing in his retirement.  Violet’s eyes turned towards the windows of the pro shop, seeing Jake, eyes trained on her.  Her thoughts fuzzed over, just taking his presence in, all the while trying to focus on the couple who were chatting along.  

     “Sorry to interrupt, but Vi, you’re needed in the bar,”  Simon, one of the shop clerks, said politely, grabbing her attention.

      She smiled as she said her good-byes with a promise to pass along a hello to her father.  She was half hoping that it would be Jake and Danny waiting for her, but it was work.  Violet glanced at her phone knowing that they were already out on the course.  

     An hour after the bar incident with the broken tapper, and the guy who was two hours late for his tee time that threw a fit, followed by a ladies’ group being offended by the guy who was two hours late, a text pinged her phone.

J - You looked so damn good for the second I got to see you.  All I can see is your ass bouncing so pretty for me.

     She smiled into the phone, feeling heat instantly wash over her body with the fresh memory.  She slid the phone back into her pocket to put out the next issue, all the while hoping that she would have reason to go out on the course itself.  Settling into the afternoon after a quick lunch, she slipped into the office, finishing the bit of paperwork she had not finished the night before.  At three, Violet did her last check in with the superintendent, as well as the golf pro and his assistants.  The shop was beginning their late afternoon routines and the kitchen was closed after the lunch group.  She walked into the small bar and noticed that Danny and Jake were walking in from eighteen green, their faces holding wide smiles and toasty looking cheeks.  Danny set his clubs on the rack on the edge of the patio area, while Jake stepped inside to turn in his borrowed clubs.

     “Hey, Blake,”  she said to the bartender who was busy with a few customers.  “I’m taking these for the guys out there.  They are on me, got it?”

     He nodded and waved as she grabbed a couple of bottles of beer.  She stood at the door looking out into the pro shop, eyes on Jake’s ass as he talked Emmy.  The plans were scrolling through her brain and he had no idea that she was there.  Giving a soft whistle to capture his attention, she held up the beers and pointed to the patio.  

     “Hi, Danny,”  she said as she walked outside.  “Got something for you.”

     His dark eyes sparkled.  “Hey, Vi.  Thanks.”

     He gave her a side hug, all hot from the sun and outdoors.  The heat on his skin smelled delicious.  “Did you have fun out there today?”

     “Yeah,”  he said as he sat down.  “It was perfect.”

     Jake’s firm hand slid across her hip.  “Hello, gorgeous,”  he whispered against her ear.

     She held the beer up for him to take.  “Jake.”

     “What, none for you?”  he asked as he sat across from Danny.

     “Working.  Still,”  she said with a nod.  “Where are the other two maniacs today?”

     “Sam wanted to grocery shop, so Josh volunteered to go,”  Dan said, laughing at the pair. 

     “They like to fight over stupid shit the whole time,”  Jake laughed.  “They’ve been known to get into slap fights in aisle three - no matter what’s there.”

     “Hey, Violet, you should come to dinner tonight.  Sam’s cooking,”  Danny said with a huge smile like he beat Jake in something.

      She looked at Jake, making eye contact that threatened to scorch her skin.  “I don’t know if I would trust Sammy with a knife, let alone food.”

      “Actually, I think you’d really like it.  He’s a better cook than I am,”  Jake conceded.  

      “I don’t know,”  she said leaning in so only the two of them could hear.  “There’s enough dicks around when it’s just the four of you.  But to be around a whole household of them?  It may be too much.” 

      Danny cheeks blazed red and Jake slapped a hand over his mouth as she stepped away from the table with a soft laugh.  She waved at Blake who was trying to capture her attention back in the bar.  

      “Gotta work and all,”  she said, shooting a pointed look back at Jake.  “What time you want me there?”

      Danny struggled to recover.  Jake cleared his throat loudly.  “Seven,”  he said, shifting in his seat.

      Violet smiled at him over her shoulder.  Wrapping up her day, she headed for home.  Jake had started a barrage of texts featuring all things vanilla - ice cream, extract, milk shakes, cookies, candy, soda, even the damn vanilla beans, but placed in weird areas.  Apparently, that was a thing.  

      Ten to seven and she was sitting on her deck, eyes on the little basket she had put together for the invite.  She was nothing if not polite.  Scooping up the gift, she made her way to her truck.  She was a bit nervous to head to their place.  She had never been inside when it was Margie’s home.  As nice as that woman was, she did not share her wealth with her neighbors and certainly did not truly socialize with them either.  She was one of those rich old ladies that would probably eviscerate you for wanting to sit and have tea with her in her living room, but would laugh and have fun if it was not anywhere near her place.  Perhaps the dick pictures were her comfort and the reason no one was ever invited - not ever.

     Following the long drive way up onto the hill, she liked how it seemed like every light was on inside.  It certainly looked warm and full of life, not like in past years.  When she slid out from behind the steering wheel, she had basket in hand and was busy straightening her little sundress when the door flew open.

      “Welcome!”  Josh’s sharp voice boomed from the door.

      She smiled at him as he danced towards her, drink in hand.  His tanned face was comforting in its widest smile.  He leaned into her, kissing her cheek while he wrapped a hand across her shoulders to guide her forward.  The chaos that was the inside of the house and the guys overwhelmed her immediately.  Between Sam yelling from the kitchen and Josh talking about who the asshole was that decided white furniture was a perfect fit for their group and Dan moving around on the back patio seemingly setting the table, Jake was nowhere to be seen.  The pictures that were hanging on the walls immediately made her want to start to hunt for the fabled dick pics.  

      “Wow, is that for us?”  Sam asked, standing with a knife in hand and apron tied to his thin waist.  “You didn’t have to do that.”

      “Gotta be polite,”  she said, holding out the basket of veggies from her garden and a bottle of wine.

      He turned to set the knife down before wiping his hands with the apron.  His eyes scanned everything in the basket, his mouth in a little oooo as he spied things he could use.  Music filled every inch of the open space and she imagined it was pumping outside, too.  She waved at Danny through the glass as Josh appeared before her with a glass as an offering.

      “Whiskey, rocks, for the pretty lady,”  he said with flair.

      “Thank you,”  she said with a curtsey.  “How was your shopping adventure?”

      “Oh my god.  I don’t know how you survive up here, Vi,”  Sam started, chopping onions like a pro.  “I mean, it was fine and all, but I forget how limited you can be away from the city.”

      “Don’t get snotty on me, Sticks,”  she said.

      “Not trying to be snotty, but how am I supposed to cook when half my shit is not available up here?  I mean, I guess I can drive the extra hour over to whatever the name of the town is, but…”

     She took Josh’s offered arm as he led her away.  “Nickel tour?” he asked as he deliberately walked off as his brother was talking to them.

     Lowering her voice to a whisper like she was a conspirator, she leaned into him.  “I’ve never been here, so yeah.  As long as you show me the dick pics, we’re good.”

     Josh snorted as they moved away.  He took her through the living room, dining and kitchen area, back to the formal sitting room, the small library, to the two suites on the main level that he and Sam had claimed.  Josh explained that Danny, for the sake of his sanity, had taken the three rooms upstairs and no one was allowed up there.  She laughed and agreed that it was a wise “motherly” choice.  

     “Jake’s the troll,”  he joked, opening the basement door.  “He took the rooms down here so as to be closer to the - well, you’ll see.”

     She followed him down the stairs into a wide open room that had their equipment neatly organized.  He pointed to the right, explaining that they had set up a studio for them before their arrival, so as to …

     Violet wanted to listen, but the sound of Jake playing acoustic guitar captured her ear.  She was aware of what the band sounded like, and had listened to them often while working in the bar.  She enjoyed their sound very much.  But this - whatever he was playing was symphonic.  

     ��Oh,”  he said with a smile.  “He’s...”

     “What is that?”  she asked, turning her body in the opposite direction.

     “Just running through his ruminations,”  Josh said, nudging her forward.  “That’s his room anyway.  Hey, Jakey!”

     The sound cut immediately.  She stepped forward towards the partially open door.

     “Go away, prick,”  Jake grumbled from inside, obviously not happy to be interrupted. 

     “See, I told you.  Total troll.”  He moved in front of her pushing open the door the rest of the way and disappearing inside. 

      When her eyes landed on Jake, he was sitting on the bed, guitar in his lap, headphones on and a cross look focused on his brother.  The annoyance faded as he looked up, the light catching the side of his face to highlight the faint pink he had caught on his cheeks earlier in the day.

     “Hey,”  he said, whipping off the headphones.  “I didn’t realize that it was that time already.”

     “That was really beautiful,”  she said, her voice soft.

     “Yeah, yeah,”  Josh cut in.  “His magnum opus and all that.  He only has one of those every year or so.”

     Sam was yelling down the basement stairs at all three of them that dinner was ready and to get their asses up there or he’d feed their food to the forest.  Josh snarked something as he walked out, but Violet’s focus was on Jake and the way he just glowed.  She watched as he set his guitar aside on its stand and moved towards her.  Without a word, he leaned in, pressing her to the wall with a kiss.  The heat from his body flooded her.  The softness of his mouth pulled her into a realm that welcomed her as equal.

      She breathed in him.  His hair.  His skin.  His clothes.  His space.  He smiled against her mouth before he deepened his kiss, truly pinning her to the wall without even a hand on her.

      “Hello,”  he whispered, landing one more kiss on the corner of her mouth.  

      “Goddamn,”  she whispered back as he took her hand in his and led her out of the room and back upstairs.

      Dinner was amazing.  The patio looked out over the woods to the west.  When they had sat down, the sun was just below the treeline, casting color across the open field and back at them.  Violet was swept up in an hour of music and scratch bolognese, with Sam pointing out that he used her veggies for the salad, and wine they were enjoying was of her fine selection.  Jake and Danny cleared the table and were inside cleaning up.

     “I made sure I was extra messy to keep them busy.  Imagine, going and playing golf when there were chores to be done?”  Sam said, hands on hips, as she filled his glass from across the table.

     “I know, right?  All that shopping and putting shit away,”  Josh added with a nod.  “How was your day, my lovely?”

     “Good.  I had to call the cops on these rock and roll guys that were being a total menace, but other than that…”  She smiled as the two inside had turned towards them with hands raised.  “Nah, it was fine.  Just typical course bs.”

     “So what do you do in your real life, Violet?”  Josh asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge.

      “Why do you ask?”  she asked, keenly aware that everyone was listening in.

      “Yeah.  I’m asking because I want to know what I’m dealing with here,”  he said, lifting his glass.  “I don’t buy into you being a bartender and course manager.  There’s nothing wrong with those jobs, but they just don’t seem ‘you’.  So, I’m asking - what do you do in your real life?”

      “Josh,”  Jake’s soft voice came from behind her.

     “No, it’s okay.”  Violet shifted and sat up straighter.  “He’s right.  I am a pediatric cardiac surgical nurse, by trade.”

      Josh smiled and nodded.  “Well, hello, lovely Violet.  I fucking knew you were a genius.”

     The rest of the evening played out like they were at the bar - dancing, playing around, and being loud about everything.  At some point, Sam and Josh were adventuring in the open field like they were explorers out on the savanna in the last remaining rays of sunshine.  Jake sat with a smoke beside her, his hand tracing circles on her hand.  

      “I’d like you to stay tonight,”  he said in her ear as Danny stood up to retrieve more wine for everyone.

      “I’d like that,”  she answered, taking his smoke for a long drag.

      “What time do you have to work tomorrow?”  he asked, as if making small talk.

      “Not until ten.  Then back to the bar at four to train the new girl,”  she answered.  “So, I have some time to play.”

      He glanced at his phone and immediately crushed his cigarette.  “Night all!”  he called out, grabbing her hand and nearly yanking her inside.

     Holding the door to the basement open for her, he swatted at her butt as she laughed.  Violet flew down the stairs, feeling lighter than she had in years.  The spin of the wine and Jake’s playfulness felt right.  He grabbed her hand from behind and drew her in and spun her around, all the while just laughing.  Her heart felt warm.  Her skin was hot and wanting to be touched.

      He danced with her into his room, both hands dragging her little sundress up above her head.  She opted for a matching set of undies, knowing that he would see them at some point.  The look that twinkled in his eyes as he took in the baby soft blue and white lace that barely held her covered made her coo at the sight of him taking her in.  He pushed her gently towards his room as he stripped out of his very worn t-shirt.  He was tugging his belt open as she turned towards him, catching his mouth in a panty melting kiss.  He hummed against her as he stripped out of his pants.  He took her hips and steered her to his bathroom.  

     “I…”  he paused as she swept her tongue against his bottom lip.  “I want to watch…”

     Her hand cupped his balls through his boxers, deliberately palming his shaft roughly.  His face froze for a fraction of a second as the softest moan escaped his mouth.  It was like he hadn’t been touched forever.  He grabbed her and spun her so her ass was pressed against him.  Gently, he placed her palms onto the counter and quickly discarded her bra.  Her breath came in waves as he looked at her through the mirror.  His eyes were impossibly dark as his tongue flicked across his mouth.  

      His rough hands slid her panties down, painfully slow as he lowered himself to his own knees to remove them.  He kissed her ass cheeks, giving them a tiny, soft nibble before rising, his tongue dragging across the skin of her spine all the way to her neck.  He bit into her neck, making her shiver.  One hand drifted around the ridge of her hip, while the other cupped her breast.  His fingers brushed back and forth across the nipple before pinching it just as his other hand pulled her hips back against him and dipped into her folds.  

      “You’re already fucking drenched,”  he breathed against her, slipping his fingers into her.  

      He tapped her feet apart before sliding out of his boxers and lining up to her.  Violet was chin to chest as he shoved his length in, driving hard up into her.  His fingers ghosted up her spine, to land in her hair and gripping at the base of neck.  

     “Look at you,”  he gasped, bringing her head up so as to see herself in the mirror.  “You’re so fucking beautiful.”

      Her heart exploded at the sight.  He was wailing into her, his hair feral and his face catching the low light just right to show his own beauty.  Her tits bounced hard, matching how her ass bounced against him with each strike.  His fingers tugged at the hair on the back of her head in the most delicious manner.

     Looking at his face in the mirror sent waves of lust through her core.  He lifted his chin, letting his hair fall behind him in a curtain, and exposing his neck.  Her breath caught.  Her brain started to scatter as her memory flashed and bubbled before her in a warning.  Another time.  Another man.  But this man was not slamming into her for fun.  This man wore evil in his eyes and hate within his heart.  She began to gasp, leaning forward against the vision that refused to clear her brain.

      “Hey,”  Jake whispered to her, stopping deep within her.  “Violet?”

      Blood drenched her memory.  She drew in a shuddering breath as he pulled away from her, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and drawing her against him. 

     “Did I do something wrong?”  he asked as he guided her to the bed.  She remained quiet against him.  “Violet, we can’t move on without you talking to me.”

      Her core quivered and her heart ruptured in shame.  “Sorry.  Sorry, Jake,”  she stammered.  “Just dead memories.  I wasn’t-”

     He hushed her while holding her tight.  “Never be sorry.  I picked a scar that I didn’t know was there.  Don’t ever feel sorry to say ‘stop’ or ‘no’ to me.  Not to anyone.”

     He pulled her to lay down next to him, wrapped tight in his embrace.  His hands smoothed her hair back from her face and pressed into her skin in soothing strokes and circles. She refused to let her emotions rule her and dictate to her what she could be with this man.  Closing her eyes, she drew in his scent, his touch.

     “Okay?”  he asked, finally making eye contact with her.  

     “Sorry,”  she started, then ground her teeth together, knowing it was not what he wanted to hear.  “Damn it.”

     “Our vanilla is a way to build trust, not just get to know each other,”  he said, voice soft and calm.  “Am I right?”

     She nodded as his mouth brushed over her hair.

     “It would be stupid to think at thirty that there wouldn’t be some kind of hang up or baggage,”  he continued.

     “Thirty four, actually,”  she corrected.

     “Oooooo,”  he grinned, knowing that she was coming back from where she had been dragged off to against her will.  “Older woman, no less.  That’s so fucking sexy.

      “I’m not done learning you.  I have a feeling I’ll run out of time before I learn all there is to know about this incredible amusement park of a body of yours,”  he said, his voice growing husky.  “I’d very much like to continue.  How about you?”

       She rose up on her elbow, looking down at him.  His eyes were kind.  His smile was full of mischief.  Violet danced her fingers across his stomach and up over his chest.  He had diffused the memory without even knowing or wanting her to extrapolate what that memory was or how it harmed her.  She traced her finger down his jaw, tugging his face closer to her.

      She let out a soft breath against his mouth.  “Absolutely.”

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[sissyjamieray]

My journey into feminization how did it begin? It is difficult to pin point a specific age, but I would guess I was about 11 years old. Yes, confused by sexual urges and excitement when looking at pictures of pretty girls in magazine ads wearing only panties and bras. Mmm, then 'borrowing' intimate female garments and wearing them. Feelng the overwhelming rush of pleasure and my first orgasm while wearing female clothing. Through the years I've tried to suppress this urges to dress as a woman. Being married was so frustrating as my wife left her intimate garments all over the house. It was like being in a candy store: bras, panties, lingerie all within reach. Unable to resist I would carefully try on bra or nightie when she was out shopping. At one point she mentioned something about one nightie being worn out in the "wrong" places. But she never questioned me. After all why would her man be turned on by wearing panties? Looking back she was very smart, she knew better than to confront me head on, lol. She knew I would not admit it or make up some bullshit story. She was very subtle, one night after making love she asked me if I had any sexual fantasies, my response was no love, none that I can think of. Another time she make the following comment, " I wish I had something to poke you with". Wow, she was so close. I was a bit stunted, didn't have a good response, lol. Several months later during our forplay love making she starts licking my nipples, omg, wtf!! Do you like it she says, with her hand on my growing manhood there was no escape, no denial. You like it don't you? I said yes, grasping for air and moaning as she began to rub the tip of my cock with her finger while continuing to lick and suck on my nipples. Then she slid her hand below my balls and started stroking and messaging the area just above my ass hole. After five minutes or this action she get up, pulls off her soaked panties then leans towards me with panties in hand and whispers in my ear, ' guess what I found in your bag Jim?' I found at least 10 pairs of my panties Jim, wtf all stained with your cum! "So you like to jerk off and cum in my panties, really?" What could I say but yes. I tried to explain why but she was upset? She then took her wet panties wrapped them around my almost limp manhood and said show me how you like you jerk off im my panties! I was so embarrassed, but I was wrong to have taken her things, this was my punishment, Yes? I reached down and started stroking my cock but it was very limp by now, I could not get hard. She saw my problem and whispers in my ear, "what's the problem, sissy panty boy, can't jerk off in front of your hot sexy wife? never touch my things again!, if you do, you will never fuck or cum inside me again. Do you understand me? Yes, hon I understand, good. Now where are my panties, Uh where you put them dear, yes they are yours now. Uh, keep them clean and if you wear these out (giggle) we will go out together and buy you more. Yes, I'll let the pretty sales lady know my size and yours (giggle). One more thing, when we make love, make sure you are wearing a clean pair of lacy pink panties. You are my panty boy husband now (giggle). I guess you better learn to get excited and hard while wearing female panties or you will never fuck me again (giggle): panty boy. Next day I after work I set out the task of hand washing 'my' panties in hope of getting lucky later that evening. Ok, hot water and some laundry soap and a 15 minutes soak, rinse and then toss into the dryer should to the trick right? Right before we went to bed I quickly grabbed my panties and climbed into bed. My wife had been observing my laundry duties activities that evening and I assumed we were cool. My hopes of an evening of

having sex where dashed when she turned the lights on stating: it's panty check time, stand up and let examine your feeble attempts to clean these! Ok, I can still see your nasty stains, what temperature did you wash these in? Hot I relied, she laughed, you idiot you should have used cold, as now you've 'set' the stain and ruined a pretty pair of panties. Oh well I guess we will have to go panty shopping tomorrow. Maybe Victoria's Secret? I understand Nancy, your friend Mike's wife just started working there (giggle), maybe she can let us use her discount? She then put her hand on my softening member and said, 'well give it some thought, panty boy, good night. WTF, now she is straight up trying to sexually blackmail me and expose me really? I got out of bed headed for the bathroom sobbing, how could my sweet wife be so cruel. Fifteen minutes or so she knocks on the door, " Jimmy are you ok"? No I'm, how could I be ok when you want to humiliate me and expose my fetish to my friends? Oh you admit it now that you are little perverted panty stealing panty boy? Her words cut me through me like a knife, but she was right. Stand Jim, look at yourself in the mirror wearing my soiled panties, tell me baby who and what did I fall in love with? Then she placed her had on my limp cock and said, I love you but tell me about all your fetishes now or we are done: confess! I'm not going to play a guessing game with you understand! Sobbing, I began to spill my guys about how was molested by an older boy at 11, my Aunt confessed to dressing me as a girl when I was very young,

dressing my mothers lingerie. Yes, I've have fantasies about being fucked my a man while being dressed as a woman. With years in my eyes I looked at my wife, what she was crying too? Why are you crying I asked? I'm so sorry that so many people have hurt you babe and that you are so fucked up now. Maybe we can both get into therapy, you know get some professional help? But for this moment, let's promise to be more open and honest with our sexual feelings and desires ok? Babe I'm sorry I got do angry with you but you did sneak my panties? I had no idea that my panties turned you on so much to the point that you would willing wear them? She started rubbing my pantied cock as she spoke, you know Jim, have a little fantasy of my own. What she whispered in my ear next blew me away. Jim, sometimes I think about being with a woman, coddling and fondling each others breasts? Jim, I, I think I might be Bi? I sorry I've never shared this with you but you understand right ? At that moment, my cock began to swell, she got her answer. Now pulling my panties down she began licking the very backside tip of my cock, you know Jim, maybe I will be willing to support you, like helping you dress like a lady, apply make up and maybe if you wish be with a man as a woman. With these words I erupted a stream of thick sperm all over her beautiful face. Wow, that was fast hon, you agree with my suggestions? Awesome, now for your first lesson Jamie, lick up all the cum you sprayed over my face. Yes, play the part bitch you need to learn to love the taste of your cum. Yes, your female name is Jamie now, do you like it? That's right clean me up, good gurl. Now it's my turn to be pleasured, now be a good lesbian bitch and eat my sweet pussy, XOXO.

Chapter 2 The List

The next morning Carol, my wife was up early and out of the house without waking me. No breakfast or coffee, man that woman be slipp'in, I thought. Well, what looks good in the frig? Oh man, lookie here, a heart shaped note from wifey. [Hi Jim I went shopping with Margie this morning, not sure when I'll be back but, please pickup the following items at the corner drug store:

tampons, pantyhose, nail polish (pink), eye shadow base & palate, concealer, face primer, eyeliner (water proof), mascara, blush, bronzer, highlighter, lip gloss, cosmetic brush set, foundation, setting spray and pamprin. Jim, if you need help just ask the salesgirl in

cosmetics, you know the one you always flirt with, you know Desiree, giggle. Oh and make sure you are wearing the pink lace panties that I let in your drawer. They are yours now, Jamie. Love Carol XOXO, P.S., I've invited some friends over for dinner so please be home by 4 pm.] Groan, I HATE shopping, especially for girl stuff! Ok, so off to drug store I went, stright to the cosmetics counter, list in hand. There she was, Desiree behind the counter, may I help you, she asked? Desiree was the gorgeous offspring of Spanish and Irish parents, about 5' 9" light green eyes and light brown to blonde hair. Her makeup was always impeccable, skirts and blouse always tight and ample cleavage on display. Carol was right that I did flirt with Desiree in the past, but Carol was always with me. It was different now, I was alone and what she possibly thinking? I mean, Carol had always shopped for her own cosmetics and fem items? Looking into her eyes my mind went blank, dry mouth, etc. I handed her the list and mumbled, my wife needs this stuff and I have no idea. Sure, no problem, I can get these for. Carol is your wife right? Yeah, she was in earlier, something about a need for a change and wanted you and I to help her with a make-over surprise. I can help you with every thing on the list except the tampons, their in aisle 12. Oh, and I'll need your help with selecting the foundation shade to ensure a good color match. Ok, what ever I said, I'll be back with the wifey's tampons in a couple minutes. As I walked away, Desiree's last words, "color matching" stuck in my head... Carol's skin tone was much lighter than mine? Mmm, aisle 12, ok here we go, no idea really what to buy my wife, so many confusing choices. I must have been searching for the correct tampons for at least 15 minutes when Desiree found me. Hi, need some help? Absolutely? I have no idea what she needs. Laughing at my ignorance of feminine hygiene products, explained that Carol would at minimum need pads and most likely will need a tampon for her 'heavy' period flows. My suggestion is get her both. Is so sweet and thoughtful of you to do pick these up for you wife, I'm sure she appreciates it. Now let's go go back to the cosmetic department and I ring up your items? Sounds like a plan, I said. Ok, let's try this new foundation shade shall we? Desiree reached for my hand, this was a new level: physical contact. I could feel my heart beating faster, well if well if you have to I said? Desiree, her hand still gently touchind my hand, looked me in the eyes and said, Jim, it is necessary to be sure we get an accurate match and you do want to please your Wife don't you? Yes, of course I want to make Carol happy. Well good, smiling as she applied the foundation to my hand Desiree said, you know Jim, it's not like anyone's going to make assumptions about your sexuality. I mean, why would a handsome stud like you want to wear make up? Ok, of course your are right, I told her. Oh, awesome Jim, this color is perfect. Carol will love it.

Great what is the final damage for all this, I asked? Sure, your total comes to $75.65. Ok, wow this stuff sure adds up fast! Ok here's $76, as Desiree handed back my change she dropped a dime. Oh, so sorry, no problem I said bending over to retrieve .10 cents and at that moment exposing my pink lace thong panties in full view of Desiree. So humiliating, I was speechless. Desiree with a big smile handed me my merchandise but me close and whispered, I love a man who likes to embrace his feminine side, Carol is so lucky.

Chapter 3 - No Refunds, No Returns

So I returned home with all the cosmetics Carol had on your list. She met me as I entered our apartment with big hug, then said that she had to leave again. No big deal, but asked me to read a letter she had written to me. Ok, problem, writing letters was something we did when we first started dating. Jim, l'll be back in about 2 hours, so please read my little ' love' note before I return. One more hug as she felt up my ass for the outline of the thong panties, still wearing them I see? Good, I so happy you did, it says you respect my wishes. I am going to make you so happy you did. Then she kissed me deeply and left without saying where she was going? Oh well, now where is this letter? I found Carol's letter on my pillow, she started, my Dearest husband, tonight I will make your fantasy of being a woman a reality. Don't deny it Jim. I found your hidden stash of female undergarments, shemale porn, etc. Really, why did you NOT trust me enough with your kinky desires? No matter, I know now and I still you move than you realize. Tonight I will give your fantasy, but know this our relationship will change. The changes will be (giggle) sort of a role reversal? To start: take a nice hot bubble bath, yes use mine girly stuff XOXO. Next, use my sugar rub all over your body to exfoliate your skin and then shave all your body hair, yes lov, your arms, legs, chest, balls and ass. Next raise in with cold water

and gently dry ourself. Next, hydrate your skin with some lotion be liberal with it. Now Jim, you don't have much time left so get started. Oh, once your done with this bathing routine, look in your drawer and closet. Yes I picked out some cute girly things for you to wear love XOXO. Make sure you are wearing each item when I return? If NOT, trust me You will sorely regret it!! But I know you will be a Good girl for your wife, your Mistress now won't you? And don't act like you don't know how to put on a bra, panty hose, corset, or breast forms. Please Sissy, remember I know what you've doing when your alone and I'm at work. You see I also found your pictures lol. Well, no more secrets BITCH! I demand you to be ready for me to apply your make up and wig when I return. No excuses! Yes dear, I will be fully shaved and dressed when return. Ok, good, I will be at 7 pm sharp! Out of fear and excitement I started drawing my bubble bath. While the tub was filling I looked into the closet and drawer to see what my wife had purchased. My sweet wife had filled my drawer will so many pretty panties and bras all different styles and colours. These were all mine, really? Wow, what was in my closet? Just a quick peek, so many cute skirts, dresses and tops, all mine? Ok, time was slipping away and the tub was nearly full now. As instructed, I soaked in the fraguent bubble bath for a half hour so relaxing then scrubbed every inch of my body possible with a sugar exfoliate scrub. I then covered my body with a girly shaved cream and shaved my legs, arms, chest, groin, balls and ass. I then showed in cold water to rinse off the remaining shave cream. As I dried my body off the scent purfume and softness of my now hairless body caused me to feel so girly/ feminine, excited and horny. I resisted my base urges to pleasure myself and pushed on to getting dressed as it was almost time for my wife to return. So many panties so many choices, will of I selected a cute pink lace thong panties with matching bra and garter belt. Slipping the panties on another temptation to pleasure myself. Not enough time, 6:30 pm, still had to put on the breast plate and corset. I secured the 38 D breasts to my chest using the medical grade adhesive. Looking the mirror was a bit of a let down, so much work and I still looked like a man, a man with big breasts and small waist. I was nearly in tears when I heard the front door open, Carol would be coming in bedroom any moment and I was pretty much half naked. I quickly grabbed a blouse, skirt and heels got them on and posing on the bed, just as door opened. Knock, knock... omg Jim, Carol told me to just let myself in, that my make over project would be sitting on the bed. It was Desire, Carol WTF!! I was humiliated once again, I began sobbing uncontrollably, why Carol, why? Desiree gave me several tissues to dry tears. I don't understand, why would do this? She came closer and hugged me. I never been this close to Desiree or so absolutely vulnerable before. She knew just like Carol that I was to be a sissy no denial. Jim, she said, Carol is giving you a gift, this is what you want really. Carol loves you didn't understand or how to help you experience being a girl. I can sweet heart. Yes, Carol may have, did violate your privacy by sharing your sissy feelings with me but I agreed to help you both. She then kissed me on the lips and said go wash away those trears hon and let's transform you into a beautiful woman. Before she applied my make up she asked me to remove my skirt and blouse, something about not getting any make on my clothes, ok made sence? Desiree was wonderful explaining the fairly complicated process of applying the various types make up, contouring, eye shadow, liner, etc. I almost forgot that I was half naked inches away from a gorgeous woman. The scent of her purfume and beautiful cleavage got the best of my unrestrained manhood. Desiree noticed my problem and said, I see you are getting turned on baby? You like it that I'm feminizing don't sweety? Oh of course you do

[painted-bees]

I love it when you dive into the psyche stuff with Margie and Raf. I swear I learn something new about myself every time I read a post about them. It's nice that they're both very patient and supportive with each other and that their struggles overlap in a way that grants them more empathy than they might have had otherwise. That said I'm curious to know how they clash, if at all. Does either of them have symptoms that triggers or exasperates the other's symptoms? How do they manage it?

that makes me so happy, thank you ; 0; <3

aaa so, chiefly, the relationship between these two is built on a pretty fundamental feature of "'winning' a situation/conflict is not more important than my partner's well being"--In that, like, they're both very proactive in looking at their situation and assessing if they're responsible for aggravating the situation/provoking a response, and to what extent. So typically, once they realize a situation has gotten away on them, they're both able to take a pause and even physically separate for a hot moment if need be--and then try and figure out what happened, what can be done, and apologize in earnest for any misinterpretation or disproportionate responses, etc. It's usually both of them apologizing to each other after identifying out loud out their own missteps/contributions, and it's usually fine. So a 'big' emotionally charged conflict between them might last like...an hour at most before before it deescalates into more co-operative conversation. Because neither of them want to "win" the fight, they just wanna not be mad at each other and see the other person comfortable--which requires understanding why they're mad rather than leveraging the other's angry response as against them, etc.

Funnily enough, this kind of...conflict resolution style wasn't Raf's initiative (he tends to be a lot more reticent to admit wrongdoing and apologize, lest it be used against him...and he's got a really bad habit of tallying up transgressions in his head and letting those grudges inform him on how much leeway he's willing to give someone before he decides they're straight-up unlikable)--but rather, it's always been Margie's way of negotiating conflict. Probably because she grew up with a very autistic brother, and being able to step away/leave the situation, calm down, and then reconvene to communicate their exact feelings and what provoked those feelings (in a weirdly dispassionate/objective manner of collaborative analysis) was a pretty critical part of her good relationship with him--a solution that evolved organically between them. And, since it worked so well with her brother (and frequently with her parents as well, wherein she'd often be applauded for her show of 'emotional maturity' or whatever lmao), she tries to employ this method with everyone close to her. It doesn't always work out... Earlier in her relationship with Raf, she'd always be first to apologize for provoking certain reactions out of him. As well, she just...never gets angry in response to someone being angry with her. She's also maybe a little too quick to apologize sometimes, which initially would have rubbed Raf the wrong way as being kinda manipulative/insincere (which, it kind of is...but not in a manner employed to gain any kind of upper hand over him)--to which he would deliberately avoid apologizing in response. He'd drop it instead, and act like nothing was wrong in the first place...which (whether consciously or not) is a manipulation tactic of his own, designed to provoke some variation of a "well wait, you were wrong and you need to give me apology" response from her. Which, of course, never came lmao. If Raf says "whatever, it's fine", unless she is also frustrated with herself, she'll take his word at face value. (the same way she does for everyone). Eventually, this leads him to to carefully admit when he feels his reactions are disproportionate. And, after while of that consistently leading to no further aggravation, his short hand to her "Sorry, I didn't mean to/I didn't mean it like that!" becomes a simple "I know. Sorry I barked at you." The gradual comfort of being 'wrong' in those very tiny, low-stake situations is what gives him the confidence to risk admitting he may be "wrong" in bigger conflicts. If, at any point--even once, Margie had taken this vulnerability and wielded it against him in any situation, he'd never let himself 'fall for it' again. But that's yet to happen. Still, it feels disproportionately risky for him to admit out loud, in earnest, that he had any part to play in a misunderstanding or in the construction of a bad situation--Like turning your back on an enemy who is poised to stab you with a knife.

Raf generally tends to be agreeable in most situations, he's a well practiced diplomat despite his disordered outlook and interpretations of things. But--he is stubbornly unapologetic. He'll drop the topic, insist it's no big deal to him anyway, tell you it's fine, to never mind, do what you want, etc. But he won't tell you it's 'his bad' or that he's sorry about anything. And if you don't meet him where's he's at with that then, in his mind, you've become The Problem. Forever. However, his care for Margie and her wellbeing bolsters his conscious efforts to treat her well, even at risk to himself. He'd rather end up in a situation where she's proven to him beyond a shadow of doubt that she never really cared about him and has been using him this whole time--than end up in a situation where he becomes a traumatic ex; someone that hurts her to think about. Therapy helped him determine that, at least in this situation, misplacing his trust is marginally less injurious to him than misplacing his suspicions. But sometimes, it takes him a hot moment to remember this and respond accordingly. Sometimes, it takes him more than a hot moment. Margie's there when he does come around to it though. She has her clear lines in the sand and--though I don't doubt that he's come close in his most fearful moments--he's never crossed them. With that said, yeah--I dunno LOL Raf is clinically predisposed to believe that he is being taken advantage of, or that he will be taken advantage of by anyone, at any given time. Margie can become pretty careless when she is very enthusiastic/eager for something, and her forward momentum does sometimes steamroll right over his toes. It can be more than a little challenging for Raf to stay grounded and respond reasonably when Margie lets excited desire drive her blindly forward at mach speeds when he feels like he's being dragged behind her. Other times, she'll try to dig into why he responded a certain way before he's had time to process and compartmentalize it for himself, all because she feels badly and wants to figure things out with him so that they can both feel better about it. He's learned that this is easily resolved with a terse "I love you, but holy shit, give me some fucking space, please." Which--usually warrants its own apology but, yanno...she gets it. Margie can be very "go go go, this is exciting, this is so fun, this is all that matters right now!! Oof--ow, shit, I hit something, was that a speed bump??" and Raf is often very "wait, what? Wait what!? Wait, that's all that matters?! Wait, what??? Hit the fucking breaks, that speed bump was me and now I am fucking dying." and that's usually where most of their conflict/clashing occurs. Margie will feel disproportionately ashamed/embarrassed/rejected, Raf will feel disproportionately slighted/put upon/mistreated. And if they didn't agree to talk to each other about it, with a shared, genuine desire to see each other in a state of comfort, their relationship probably couldn't thrive.

[thefloorisbalaclava]

Hello lovely! So a friend and I have been talking about Frankie lately and how damn adorable it would be if he were his kids little league baseball coach. Like, he passes down his old mitt to them from high school days (even though it’s comically too big for them) because it gave him good luck, and of course all the guys would come to support them (possibly Benny or Santi even trying to hit on the single moms because of course they would LOL) could possibly be in the neighbor!frankie universe with Gabi in their future some time? We just thought you’d be perfect to write these random ideas into something beautiful. If you have time or even like the idea of course!! ❤️❤️❤️

I hope you don’t mind me putting this in the mechanic!frankie AU! I think it’s a great way for reader and Frankie to bond a little more!

A/N: You run into your favorite mechanic while out running errands.

[mechanic!frankie masterlist]

You wandered aimlessly down the aisle of the store, randomly grabbing a box of cereal to throw into your cart as you whistled along to the song playing in your ear. As you rounded the corner, you ran into someone else’s cart. You quickly removed your earbuds to apologize.

“Oh! I am so- Frankie?!” It came out a little louder than you expected, making a few heads turn.

“I thought I was Frankie,” he joked and you rolled your eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“Just picking up a few things.” You looked at his cart. “You look like you’re picking up enough to feed a small army.”

“I kinda am.” He held his jacket open to show you his baseball jersey. “Got a game tonight and we’re gonna have a party after--win or lose. You’d be surprised how much those kids can eat.”

“Wait, are you telling me you coach little league?”

“I do, yeah.” He smiled proudly. “I used my own money to get the league started. I buy the uniforms and everything.”

“You didn’t tell me this last night.”

“Well, I was focused on other things,” he said and you giggled like a schoolgirl. “I had fun.”

“Me too and the food was delicious. Remember, next time I’m cooking for you,” you told him.

“Are you doing anything later?” he asked.

“Oh, wow, trying to get me to cook for you already, huh?” you teased.

“No,” he chuckled, “I was wondering if you’d like to come out and watch the game. Cheer us on a little.”

“I’ll be there. Where is it?” you asked and he told you. “Coach Frankie...it fits you.”

“Thanks.” He stood there silently for a moment. “Why is it always so hard to say goodbye to you?”

“I was just wondering the same thing. How about this? We won’t say goodbye just...see you later.”

“Okay then. See you later.”

“See ya, Coach Frankie.” You winked and pushed your cart past him and he watched until you were out of sight.

It was a nice day out so you decided to walk. The game was already underway by the time you got there, and you didn’t know it but Frankie had been scanning the bleachers for you. This time when he looked up and spotted you, he beamed and waved then turned back to all the kids that surrounded him. Once he was done, he walked over to the fence and waved you down.

“You made it,” he said.

“Yeah, sorry I’m late. I walked,” you told him.

“No umbrella?” he asked then looked up at the sky. “It’s gonna rain, you know. Can’t you smell it?”

“The weatherman said nothing about rain today.”

“He could be wrong...” Someone called his name and he turned. “I’ll see you after the game, okay? Don’t sit alone. My friends are up there.” He nodded to the group of guys sitting at the very top of the bleachers.

“Okay. Good luck, Coach.” You smiled and made your way up the bleachers.

“So you’re Frankie’s girl, huh?” one of the men asked. “I’m Benny, by the way.”

“Hi Benny. And I’ve met you, Santiago...right?” Santiago nodded and shook your hand.

“This is my brother William,” Benny said. You shook his hand too then sat down to watch the game. It made you smile to see Frankie enjoying himself, surrounded by children who obviously hung on every word he said. You didn’t hear him shout once aside from cheering for his team. At one point you got so into it that you stood up and cheered louder than anyone else. The guys snickered as you cleared your throat and sat back down.

They ended up winning the game and you all went down to congratulate them.

“What a win, Coach Frankie,” you said, giving him a high five.

“I think I might have had a good luck charm out there in the crowd,” he said and you looked down shyly. The guys came over and you stood back while they talked to him. Afterwards, Frankie reminded everyone of the little party he had put together in the park for them so you all walked over and enjoyed pizza and snacks with the team and their parents.

Frankie told you that you didn’t have to help clean but you wanted to. You weren’t exactly ready to say goodnight just yet. His friends said their goodbyes and his players all gave him a high five and a hug before leaving with their families.

When the last of the mess was thrown away, Frankie turned to you, lifting his cap to scratch at his head. “You mind if I walk you home?” he asked.

“I don’t mind at all.”

“Oops...almost forgot my umbrella.” He sprinted over to where he left it then made his way back to your side.

“You really brought an umbrella? It’s not going to rain,” you repeated.

“Yeah, it is. Here...let me show you. This is what my dad taught me.” He led you over to a tree. “You see when the wind blows and the backs of the leaves show? That means rain.”

“I see but...” You felt a raindrop on your head and Frankie shrugged.

“Told ya. Come on.” 

You two walked slowly through the park, taking the longer way around. “Maybe it won’t rain too bad.” No sooner had you said that than the skies opened up. You squealed and Frankie opened his umbrella as quickly as he could, pulling you under there with him.

“Think we can make it to the bridge?” he asked over the rain.

“I don’t know...” Suddenly he took your hand and pulled you along as he ran under the bridge then leaned against the stones to catch his breath.

“I...told...you,” he teased.

“Don’t rub it in,” you breathed. You smiled at him and he smiled back. He took his hat off and slicked his hair back before replacing it.

“At least it waited until after the game,” he said. He saw you hugging yourself and shrugged his jacket off before draping it over your shoulders. “There.”

“Thanks.” You pulled it around you tighter and were hit with a delightful smell. You closed your eyes and let yourself be surrounded by it. “Sandalwood,” you said out loud.

“Hm?”

“Your jacket...it smells like sandalwood,” you said.

“Oh yeah. One of my favorite scents,” he told you.

“Fits you. Very earthy and...” Your breath hitched as you noticed how close he was to you. “...you.”

“Very earthy and me?”

“Y-Yeah.” You two just stared at each other for awhile and you felt yourself being drawn to him, your body leaning towards his.

“Looks like it’s letting up,” he said suddenly, breaking the spell you were under.

“Oh...yeah, it does.” You tried to hide your slight disappointment.

“Shall we, my lady?” He offered his arm while he used the other to hold the umbrella. “Not my lady,” he amended, “I meant like...”

“I know what you meant. Let’s go.” You took his arm and moved as close as you could to get under the umbrella with him.

“I’m not used to this, you know,” he said after a few moments of silence. “I haven’t walked through the park like this since my wife died...” His words trailed off.

“Thank you for sharing something so special with me, Frankie.”

By the time he got you home, the rain had stopped and the sun had started to go down.

“Thank you for letting me walk you home.”

“Thank you for walking me home,” you countered and he chuckled.

“Can I call you tonight?” he asked.

“Of course. You can call whenever you like.”

“Great...awesome.” He walked backwards down the path. “Talk to you soon,” he said before turning away. As he walked along, he noticed he had started whistling I’m Singing in the Rain. He twirled his umbrella playfully and purposely jumped in a puddle.

“What a glorious feeling, and I’m happy again...” he sang to himself.

frankie taglist: @fakenoods @oldstuffnewstuff @the-bird-suit @lestrange2703 @findhimfives @windfallss @rach7 @surfsup666 @theghostwiththemost-babe @marshmallow–3 @mrschiltoncat @aplaceofpeace @josepedropascal @mitchi-c @jeeperky @allthingsnarcos @laymegentlytorest @stanfordscrush @fangirlingss @nathan-bateman @darthdumbasss @helga1031 @master-obi-wan-kenboneme @heythere80sbaby @deserttastesbitter @dindjstarin @mandodjarinn @frankie-stein18 @funkylittlebisexuall @16boyfriends-and-me @marvelousmermaid @slugbuggie @ladyblogger-margie @queenbbarnes @dodgerandevans @terrormonster55 @queridopascal @hells-bells-x @allmahfeels @elizabeth-von-winken-universe @blackberries45 @darnitdraco @nemo-my-name-forevermore @dindjarinneedsahug

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i hope everyone is where they want to be! let me know if you want to be changed around! join a taglist here!

[hops-hunny]

Something I’d Get Used To

Pairing: Neville Longbottom x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.4k

Request: anon “Hey could I get a 9 & 21 for nev with a fem reader please fluff/smutt! Thank you!! :)”

Summary: (Y/n) doesn’t do love, but whatever her and Neville have is something she can get used to

Warnings: Slight angst in the beginning but vast majority fluff!

A/N: Hey anon, I decided to go with fluff so I hope you enjoy this! I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you have just as much reading it!

9. “Love’s a word I always hated.”

21. “I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.”

Love. A word that made (Y/n) sick to the very pit of her stomach, and Merlin’s knows not in a good way. (Y/n) was tired of the word love before she even knew what it meant. The word that held so much meaning. The word girls and boys alike waited sometimes their entire life to hear. She was sick of it. She had her parents to thank for that. Growing up, (Y/n)’s parents were always busy with work, leaving her with various different strangers referred to as “nannies”. At first she’d look forward to hearing the words, even reading them. “We love you dear, we’ll be home soon!” Each letter ended with this phrase. She remembered the long days that she’d sit by the front door, waiting for the owl to bring the letters to her. How she’d clutch them to her heart, cheering with glee as she’d read her to whichever nanny they had hired. 

However, each time they’d leave they would go for longer and longer, the letters would grow shorter and shorter until eventually they became nonexistent. She felt uncared for, unloved. When her parents got older they started to stay home more opting to work from home. She could still recall the fated conversation that made her hated that stupid little four letter word.

(Y/n) was ecstatic but tried not to show it that much. She knew how much her parents disliked when she would outwardly express obscene amounts of emotion and yet she couldn’t help the smile that overtook her face when they invited her out for dinner. They felt bad for all the important holidays and birthdays they had missed and to make up for it, they decided to take her out for one last grand hoorah before her departure to Hogwarts. 

“Mom, dad, can I ask you something?” she asked, playing with her fingers nervously. Although they were her parents, she always felt unsure of how to speak to them. The limited amount of time they had spent together were always cut short, leaving her parents to feel like distant strangers in her life. Her mom looked up from her phone, smiling at the girl.

“Of course dear, what is it?”

“I...I wanted to know why the letters stopped. You know, when you two would travel. You used to send me a postcard and a letter from whatever place you guys were at and eventually they just stopped coming.” She looked up at her parents, biting the inside of her cheek nervously. “Why is that?”

“Letters?” her father started off confused, looking up from his menu briefly before returning his eyes to it. “What lett-”

“Dear let’s stop. Did you want to order drinks too? I’ll get the waiter ov-”

“No mother, let him finish. Go on dad, what do you mean what letters? You guys used to send me them every time you left. How could you not know what letters?” she pleaded desperately, trying to find the answers in her parents eyes.

“Oh right! Those letters.” he said unamused. “Listen kid, you’re old enough now so I guess it’s time we tell you. We weren’t the ones writing those letters, it was your nannies. Do you really think we had the time out of our busy schedules to write you letters? Don’t be ridiculous.” he said, letting out a chuckle. “I don’t see how you didn’t notice that the handwriting was a bit different each time.”  His eyes rose quickly from the small words on the menu at the sound of the menu being slammed on the table. (Y/n) stood there with hot angry tears in her eyes, glaring at her parents. No, it wasn’t true, it couldn’t be. They loved her, right? People who love each other don’t lie, her mother had taught her that once. She rose from her spot in the booth, running out the restaurant despite the cries of protest for her to stay.

When she got home, she went into her room pulling the old box that she kept under her bed. She ripped the lid off, pouring the contents onto the bed. “No,” she croaked, tears beginning to form in her eyes again, “No, no, no. Come on. No come on!” she picked up the letters comparing the writing noticing how the writing didn’t match up. “Bullshit! This is bullshit! I can’t believe this!” she screamed, throwing herself on the bed. She sobbed herself to sleep, surrounded by the letters filled with lies. So much for love.

After that incident, (Y/n) opted for staying with her aunt. Her aunt was a few years older than her mom but due to the lax life she lived, she looked a lot younger. She was very grateful that her aunt took her in with such short notice, welcoming her with open arms. She’d write to her often, sending her letters of the adventures she was having at Hogwarts. She would always laugh at the bittersweet way her aunt would sign letters, “Lots of Love, Aunt Margie.”

“Oh come on! Please? It’s just one group date.” Hermione pleaded, chasing down the hallway after her friend. She sat down next to her on the common room couch, smiling at the (y/h/h) girl. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll even fall in l-”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence. That word makes me sick to my stomach.” she said, clutching at her stomach to add emphasis as she made gagging noises. “Love’s a word I’ve always hated.” Hermione looked at her friend sympathetically, patting her leg. Her and Hermione had been friends long before their years at Hogwarts. Her parents were colleagues of her parents but they had lower down positions.

“I know, I know. But you also know I wouldn’t put you with anyone I didn’t think was good enough to be with you. He’s a sweet guy! He loves tending to plants, he’s kind, funny. Sure he’s a little awkward and slouches a bit when he stands but he’s got his own bit of charm!” She said, watching as (Y/n) considered her words. She sighed looking at her.

“Is he at least cute?” 

“I knew you’d come around!” Hermione exclaimed, wrapping her arms around her friend tightly. She pulled back, holding her hands in a comforting way. “It is at the end of the week. I decided to tell you ahead of time so on the off chance you’d agree, which you did, you’d have time to back out at any time if you decided you don’t want to go. Well,” she started as she stood up, gathering her things in her hand. “I’ve gotta get going! And to answer your question, I guess you’ll have to see for yourself.”

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

(Y/n) snuck through the grass trying to make her way to the greenhouse. Well, as much you could sneak in panda slippers and a nightie. It was about three in the morning and no matter what, she couldn’t sleep. Most nights she had trouble sleeping but it was never this much. “Just my luck. First date I ever agree to and here I am in my fucking pajamas trying to sneak into the greenhouse for a plant that may or may not even be there.” she grumbled, holding her illuminated wand in front of her. She sighed in relief as she finally made her way into the greenhouse. 

She found herself pondering whether it would’ve been simpler to just snag some chamomile from Snape’s room instead. “No, don’t be stupid. He would’ve definitely given me some awful punishment, or even worse, let Filch deal with me.” she shuddered at the thought. She looked around the crowded building, looking and searching for the plant. “What the fuck does a chamomile plant even look like?” she muttered. (Y/n) felt herself growing a bit irritated with herself. Years of living with her Aunt Margie had left her spoiled considering Aunt Margie hated tea bags, always opting for making her own blends. If only she had paid attention to her when she was teaching her about plants, that would make this process a whole lot easier.

“Chamomile, chamomile, chamomile. Eh, this looks close enough!” she reached for the pair of scissors in her pocket, leaning forward to cut it before a hand grabbed hers. She screamed, jumping back as she pointed the scissors at the intruder. “What are you doing?!” she questioned, looking up at the boy. He had a blue pajama set on along with a brown pair of moccasins. He quirked a brow, hazel eyes boring into her own.

“I could ask you the same thing. I come here every night and never see you here.” he shuffled awkwardly, taking the scissors from the girl’s grasp. “Did you need something?”

“I was just about to cut a bit of this chamomile here.” She said motioning to the plant. The boy began to laugh some, shaking his head as he walked across the greenhouse. “What’s so funny?”

“That,” he motioned to the plant that she was previously going to cut, “Is not chamomile. If you were looking for something to help with sleep you would’ve been very upset. That’s actually bouncing biltweed. Whoever drinks it, be it through a tea or potion, is left awake for HOURS. It’s a good alternative for coffee drinkers though.” she felt heat rise to her face as she looked away embarrassed, crossing her arms as she mumbled about how she already knew that.

“Why do you know so much about plants anyways. You say you come here every night, why is that?” she questioned, walking over to his side. She watched as he cut at the actual chamomile before walking to a purple plant and cutting some of that as well.

“I love plants. I always used to have this extra energy from how anxious I’d get, so I started tending and caring for plants. After herbology in first year I became hooked. They’re so fascinating.” He looked down at her, flushing slightly. “Usually I don’t come here this late but I couldn’t sleep either. I have something I’m really looking forward to tomorrow and I don’t wanna screw it up.” she nodded, giving him a noise of acknowledgement. 

“Yeah, I’ve got something tomorrow to. I wouldn’t say I’m looking forward to it but I am quite concerned about how it’ll all play out.” she sighed, stretching as her eyes floated around the room. Her eyes landed on a kettle and a set of cups around the room. “Well since we’re both in the same boat, how bout we have a cup of tea together, yeah?” she asked, walking to the kettle as she looked back at the boy. She noticed how red he was but chose to ignore it as he gave her a nod.

Although she wasn’t usually a people person, she felt oddly comforted around the boy. He was a bit awkward but sweet nonetheless. (Y/n) hadn’t expected to run into him, let alone spend the next few hours laughing and talking to a guy who’s name she didn’t even know! After a while, their conversation dwindled down to nothing as the effects of the lavender and chamomile took over the both of them. The walked to the castle together before bidding each other goodbye, going their separate ways. She’d never admit it to herself, but she quite liked the boy. He seemed like someone she could be into.

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

“Hurry up! We’re going to be late!” Hermione huffed, throwing herself onto (Y/n)’s bed as the girl got ready. (Y/n) rolled her eyes, adding a final coat of lip gloss on as she ignored the girl. “You know, for someone who was very reluctant to go on this date, you’re putting a lot of effort into your appearance. I think Neville will appreciate it though." She giggled as the girl began to sprits a light amount of perfume.

"Neville?” ah, so that’s what his name was. “And, if I'm going to be wasting my time then I might as well look good doing it. And besides, I'm ready!" She walked over to the mirror smiling at her appearance. She had on a mossy green oversized sweater totally not stolen from her father that was tucked into the overall shorts that she had cuffed around the legs. On her lower half she adorned a beat up pair of sneakers. She smiled, admiring herself before grabbing her brown leather satchel. Hermione stood next to her friend in the mirror, looking at her own appearance as she bit the inside of her cheek.

“Do you think I look alright?” she questioned, viewing herself from another angle. “Because, you know, I think I look wonderful but do you think Ro-”

“If Ron doesn’t think you look nice then I’ll give him a reason not to be able to see. You look wonderful! You’ve been looking forward to this all week, don’t go beating yourself up. Now,” she grabbed the girl’s hand as they began to head towards the door. “Let’s go show 'em what we’re made of.”

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

The world had to be playing a joke on her. There was no other explanation for what was in front of her. No, it couldn’t be him. However, as they neared her suspicions were confirmed. As the others were all communicating, the boy(who she assumed to be Neville) stood awkwardly by himself, chiming in every so often. She could’ve been wrong but as he turned towards her, with rosy red cheeks and wide eyes, she knew most definitely it was him. “Hey! It’s you from last night. Are you Neville?” she questioned, standing in front of him. He had on a brown flannel, a black shirt under it which was untucked from his dark color jeans, quite a contrast from his cute little pajama set from the other night.

“Y-yeah I am! This is for you.” He said, holding out a beautiful hand picked bouquet before continuing, “I-I know it’s a weird combination but I thought it’d be a nice call back from the other night.” she smiled, looking down at the strange but welcome array of chamomile, lavender, and baby’s breath. How cu- thoughtful was that? Her brows shot up in realization.

“Wait, you knew?! Why didn’t you say something?” she exasperated, slapping his shoulder playfully before she threw back her head groaning. “I told you so many embarrassing stories last night.” she facepalmed, looking up at him as he began to laugh some.

“Thought it’d be a funny surprise. The look on your face was priceless!” He said, moving away as he laughed at her failed attempts to hit him. He looked around realizing their group had already gone. “It looks like everyone else already left. Let’s get going, yeah?” he said, holding his hand out to her. (Y/n) looked down at it hesitantly before taking his outstretched hand, goosebumps spreading across her body at the warm contact. 

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

As they arrived at the quaint little hole in the wall of a restaurant, they realized their small predicament. Hermione smiled, turning towards (Y/n). “Have I ever mentioned how much I lo- care about you?” she cooed sweetly, taking the girl’s (s/c) hands in her own. In return the girl narrowed her eyes looking at her.

“What happened? What do I need to do?” she questioned.

“Well it won’t necessarily be you who has to do something,” she walked back looking at her group of friends, “It appears there’s not enough seats for 5 sets of us so one couple is going to have to take a booth.” (Y/n) looked at her rolling her eyes.

“We’ll do it. Willingly too because if I have to see Harry look at Ginny like that one more time I honestly might end up puking. Come on Nev.” she said, grabbing the giant's hand, leading him to the booth in question. Neville felt his breath hitch and his face flush at the contact, turning to give his friends one last look.

“Don’t bore her to death with all your talk about weeds and plants! I don’t think any girl wants to hear that.” Seamus snickered out, walking away from his friend. However, (Y/n) didn’t hear him, looking up at Neville as she waited for him to sit down. She froze but shortly relaxed as he took a seat across from her instead of next to her.

“I hope we didn’t waste all our good topics yesterday!” she exclaimed looking over at him.

“Surely we haven’t. You know, you never told me what you like to do for fun. Do you have any hobbies?” he asked, looking over the menu as he waited for a response.

“Of course! I’m an artist. Wait a second, I brought my sketchbook, give me one second.” she said, digging into the brown bag that sat next to her. She pulled out a worn down leather notebook, sliding it across the table. 

“You brought your sketchbook on a date?” he chuckled, watching as she looked away timidly. “I’m just teasing, love. Plus I knew you drew, I’ve seen you sketching sometime but I’ve never actually seen any of you work,” he flipped it open, gasping at the girl’s art, “But oh wow are you talented! I expected nothing less from you though.”

“To be fair, I brought the sketchbook before I knew it was you I was going on a date with. I thought I’d be stuck with someone boring and uninteresting,” she said, watching as he examined the pages, “But I guess I lucked out, huh?” Now it was Neville’s turn to feel taken. He flushed lightly before reaching over, grabbing her hand.

“Oh? Am I hearing this correctly? Am I being led to believe you’re enjoying your time on this date with me?”

“Don’t push your luck, Longbottom.”

The pair continued to talk, not a moment of silence falling upon them. It was going perfectly. Neville let her talk about her hobbies and equally enjoyed talking about his. Not once did either of the two get bored or stop talking...which couldn’t be said about their friend’s at the table across from them. The two began to giggle at the sight of the bored expressions on their faces. “Oh god, how awkward does that look?” she laughed out, watching as one of the girl’s visibly yawned at something Seamus said.

“And to think he tried to give me advice before this. Looks like it should’ve been the other way around.” He said, moving his eyes back to the girl. God she was gorgeous, he couldn’t help but think so. He let his eyes travel down the slope of her nose to the outline of her lips. He was absolutely enamoured by the girl, and had been for a few months. He could never get the words right to say to her and from what he had heard from other guys who confessed, he didn’t think he wanted to. He jumped out of his thoughts as the girl’s face was extremely close to his. (Y/n) began to laugh, sitting back down in her seat.

“T-the look on your face! Oh that was priceless. You practically jumped out of your pants!” she laughed harder, snorting as she bang her fist on the table. After a few seconds, she looked over at  the taller boy tilting her head in confusion at his lack of words. “Neville, are you alright?” her eyes looked down as he gripped her hand in his own.

“Listen (Y/n) I know you don’t do love but I just need to say this. I...I like you. I’m absolutely entranced by every part of you and it did start out as physically, I’ll admit but it wouldn’t feel right having you be the only one who didn’t know. I’m smitten with you and everyone knows it.” he spoke softly, looking down at his empty plate on the table. His face flushed as she tilted his head to face her, his expression filled with confusion.

“You’re right. I don’t do love. However,” she tightened her grasp on his hand stroking his cheek, “I think we have the potential to have far more than that. Something greater than lo-love.” Neville’s face was overtaken in shock at the girl’s revelation. (Y/n) smiled before leaning over and leaving a kiss on his cheek.

She may not be the type to do love, but this was definitely something she could get used to.

[imhereformr]

Bish, prompt 48 for brella, pretty please💘

Sorry for the delay with the prompts. I've got a pile of them to do, but I got a tad sidetracked...

Anyways, bish, enjoy some sad Brandon and comforting Stella 💔♥️

48: I called you at 2am cause I need you. 

Brandon gently lowered himself onto his bed, his fingers gripping at the edge of the mattress to hold him steady. He tried to regulate his breathing, but his breath continued to come in short, ragged gasps. It felt like his heart had dropped into his stomach; like it had displaced his supper, sending it back up his throat. He wanted to puke, wanted to shout and curse and cry, but nothing came up. Somehow, he found himself curled up on his bed with his temple resting against the cool metal of his phone, right on top of his bundled standard issue blue Red Fountain blanket where he’d dropped the phone a few minutes earlier. At least he thought it was a few minutes.

His mother had called. He’d been so happy to hear from her until he heard the choked sobs that she was trying to stifle. His mother – a pinnacle of strength in every way, shape and form – barely managed an intelligible word between the gasps and whimpers. Something about one of his sisters, that much he’d caught. There’d been some shuffling, and then his father’s voice, strained but clear. Margie – his youngest sister – had been hit by a car. She’d been playing soccer in the front yard and had accidentally kicked her ball into the street. The old man behind the wheel hadn’t seen her coming; she had appeared from behind a parked car too close for him to stop in time.  

Brandon had wanted to hop on the first flight home, but his parents had refused. It was the middle of finals, he needed to be at school. His father had insisted that Brandon had worked too hard to flunk his last finals and not graduate. Brandon didn’t care – he had a guaranteed job with Sky anyways – but he didn’t dare disobey his parents. They would call once the doctors have them an update. It was all they could do for now.

He hated it; hated that he was stuck here. Margie was his favourite of his four sisters, partially because she was too young to torture him like the others had, but mostly because she had that something that he loved. A joie de vivre he’d heard Stella refer to it as. Margie’s laugh was loud and honest; she was bubbly and kind. Of course, she was only seven and the world hadn’t tried to hurt her enough yet, but Brandon had a feeling she’d maintain her sunny disposition even when it did. Margie reminded him a bit of Stella if he was honest, right down to how stubborn she could be. How many times had he told her not to run into the street? Surely more times than he could count. Still, typical of her, she didn’t listen. And look where she was now.

And look where he was.

Curled up in bed, unable to help her.  

Useless.

Terrified.  

Brandon’s eyes snapped open. It was dark, and the clock on his bedside table read 1:37. He could hear Sky snoring softly on the other side of the room, blissfully unaware that Brandon’s world was falling apart. Somehow, Brandon had ended up in his pajamas. Somehow, he had ended up in his bed. In the back of his mind, Brandon knew he must have decided to try to get some sleep, but he had no memory of any of it. Everything after hanging up was a blur.

Half asleep and stumbling in the dark, he found his way to the common room. After tossing aside the gaming remotes that always seemed to be left on the couch, Brandon took a seat. He pushed aside the books that Riven left hanging on the coffee table and put his feet up. Luckily, he’d thought of grabbing his phone on the way out of his room. He dialed his mother, father and sisters’ phone numbers. Nobody answered. Nobody. How could nobody answer?! It was barely past supper time on Eraklyon! He desperately needed an update on Margie, even if it was just that nothing had changed – at least that meant she was still alive.  

Brandon dropped the phone onto the coffee table and lowered his head into his hands, gasping in surprise when he felt the water on his palms. He hadn’t noticed that he was tearing up. The realisation broke the dam, and the tears that had refused to come earlier flowed freely and abundantly now. Brandon managed to stifle any whimpers that might wake the guys – though it wasn’t likely since Timmy and Sky slept like rocks and, knowing Riven, he and Musa were off somewhere breaking curfew for the sake of a quick fuck.  

He hadn’t even realised he’d picked up the phone and dialed until he heard Stella’s sleepy voice in his ear. The wracking sobs gave way to a steady, gentle stream of tears. Even groggy with sleep, her voice always seemed to soothe him. Riven said Stella’s voice was annoying and high pitched, but Brandon disagreed; he found her voice bright and cheerful. He loved her voice.  

“Brandon?” she repeated, worry seeping into her beautiful voice. “What’s going on?”  

He had no idea where to start.  

My sister’s hurt.

“Hello?”

I’m worried.

“Brandon?”

I’m scared.  

“Is something wrong?”

He cracked. The sobs shook his body again, and he had to cover his mouth to stop from screaming and waking the whole school.  

“Brandon?” He could hear her panic overwhelming her tone, taking her voice from sleepy and light to high and desperate. “Talk to me. Please.”

I need you.  

He tried to speak but he couldn’t. The words died somewhere in his throat, suffocated by the sobs and whimpers. He hung up. There was no point in keeping Stella up to force her to sit in silence. She needed to sleep; she was in the midst of her final exams too.  

A knock on the balcony door scared him out of his haze. He had no idea how long he’d sat on the couch staring at nothing. He’d been vaguely aware of the sound of someone trying to sneak through the halls; of water rushing through the pipes as someone took a mid-night shower; of the moans coming from one of the adjacent dorms; and the pounding on the wall accompanied by a voice demanding the lovers shut the fuck up. But the span of time in which that had happened, Brandon had no idea.

Brandon grabbed the nearest thing he could find that would serve as a weapon – the TV remote, not useful but it would have to do – and slowly approached the door. He slid back the curtain that covered the glass door and nearly dropped the remote when he saw who was on the other side.  

Wasting no time, Brandon opened the door to let Stella in. She de-transformed before entering and Brandon was surprised to see that she was in her pajamas with her hair in a messy high bun. He’d seen Stella in her natural, not dolled up state on more occasions than he could count, but he’d never known her to leave the safety of her dorm without looking like a top model.  

Amber eyes fixed their worried gaze on him as her hands found their way to his cheeks, brushing away the dried tears. Stella wrapped one of her hands around the back of his neck and pulled him into a hug. He could smell the residual perfume that lingered on her; the sweet scents of rose, jasmine, sandalwood and vanilla filled his senses, and he happily let them. He wanted nothing more than to bury himself in the safety of her arms and not come out until he knew the world was as it should be.  

Brandon’s arms wrapped around Stella’s small waist and pulled her as close as physically possible. There, in the warmth of her, he let himself break on purpose. Stella ran her hands through his hair while she let him cry, planting light kisses on his shoulder, neck and ear. They stayed like that for a few minutes until Brandon’s tears subsided and he reluctantly pulled himself away. Stella didn’t let him get too far, though, as she gripped his arm and gently dragged him over to the couch. She sat at the end, dragging him down with her and resting his head on her chest so that she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.  

“What happened?” Stella asked quietly as she waited for Brandon to adjust into a laying position and return his head to her chest.  

“Margie was in a car accident” he managed. His voice sounded weak and broken to his own ears, he couldn’t imagine how bad he sounded to Stella, but she didn’t seem to care. She held him tighter and kissed the top of his head without saying another word. Stella knew how much he loved his family, especially his youngest sister, and he knew she understood how devastating the news was to him.  

They didn’t speak for the rest of the night. Stella continued to hold him until he fell into a restless sleep, and she fell asleep soon afterwards. Brandon’s phone woke them just before 6 when his mother called to inform that Margie was stable and would likely make a full recovery. Even then, Stella didn’t let go and Brandon didn’t ask her to. He would happily stay in her arms until the end of time. Or until one of them needed to pee.  

[wefoundloveunderthelight]

Love or Duty by GleefullyCaptainSwan

Chapter 1/8

Read on AO3: | Chapter 1

Or on FF

Stacy's Tortured Crew: @teamhook @kmomof4 @stahlop @lfh1226-linda @ilovemesomekillianjones @itsfabianadocarmo @mariakov81 @qualitycoffeethings @zaharadessert @jrob64 @jonesfandomfanatic @natascha-ronin @tiganasummertree @xarandomdreamx @therooksshiningknight @batana54 @superchocovian @onceratheart18 @ultraluckycatnd @snowbellewells @karlyfr13s @the-darkdragonfly @xsajx @deckerstarblanche

Chapter 1: The Uneasy Alliance

“Our scout says she burned the village to the ground, everything is gone. She didn’t even leave the animals alive.”

The King surveyed the room filled with nervous men, he held up his hand and a hush fell over the crowd. “Double the guard at the gate, just to be safe.” He turned toward the Knight, the man nodding swiftly before exiting the chamber. “Regina is still in the East, Misthaven is safe.”

“For how long?” Someone yelled from the back of the room.

“We need to move the women and children.” Another voice spoke above the crowd.

“Everyone calm down. There is no need to panic, our guard is strong, our swords are mighty. We will not be taken by the Queen from the Eastern lands.”

“We need more swords, Your Majesty. If we stand alone, Misthaven will surely fall.”

The warning did not fall on deaf ears, as the King paced his chambers that evening, his wife, Queen Margaret preparing herself in their bed chamber, watched him with eager eyes. “You appear distracted this evening.”

“It’s Regina, she destroyed the town of Umbury. The nobles are concerned that she is advancing north.”

“You do not think our defenses will hold.” She spoke softly, standing from her spot in front of the bed, less of a question and more of a statement that she had read from his mind. She was good at that, reading his thoughts, understanding what he wasn’t saying before he could even admit his own truth.

He contemplated a moment, not wanting to worry his wife but knowing it was pointless to deny what she already knew. “No. They are our best men, but I fear there are simply not enough of them.”

“Then you must go west.”

“Never. Those fools will not listen much less be willing to help our cause.”

“Those fools are also standing in her way.” She said soothingly, taking his hand and pulling him toward the bed. “Alone, both kingdoms will fall. But if you come together, put aside this foolish feud, we will surely stop her in her path.”

“Brennan Jones is a fool. I would no sooner beg for his assistance than I would bend a knee to Regina’s demands.”

“Then you, my love, are the fool.” She put a hand to his open mouth, stopping his protest and complaint. “You are King David Nolan; you serve the people of Misthaven. It is time to forgive past transgressions, you must come together with the people of Jonesboro or you doom our own to a life of misery and servitude under the rule of Queen Regina.”

He bent his head, knowing his wife was right. He was out of options; they wouldn’t last the month at the rate that Regina was burning the lands. He needed assistance and his best chance was his neighbor to the west. King Brennan was the last man he would seek out, the last man he would be found groveling to, and sadly, he had no other options. King Brennan Jones was their only hope.

~*~

“To what do I owe this great displeasure of seeing your face on my doorstep, David?”

“I’m no more excited to be at your doorstep than you are to see me, Brennan, but we need to speak regarding our mutual problem in the East.”

“Ah so you’re here about the infestation, or as she likes to call herself, Regina.”

David nodded. “She burned Umbury to the ground not two days ago.”

“My scouts have not brought news of Umbury yet. Are you quite sure?”

“Not even the animals survived the slaughter.” David said somberly.

“Umbury is not far from the road to Misthaven, is it not?”

His irritation grew. “You know that it is.”

“This does not sound like my problem, David.”

“If Misthaven falls, how long before Jonesboro follows?” He stated emphatically. “Regina will not rest until all the lands are hers.”

The man paced in front of him, the cold mask set on his face, unreadable. “You expect me to believe that you care about what happens to my kingdom?”

“I know that my kingdom cannot survive without help. Neither can yours.” He implored.

“You want to work with me?” He laughed loudly. “I did not think the day would come.”

“Trust me, If there was any other way, I would have found it. Margaret asked me to speak to you, so here I am.”

The man rolled his eyes. “Ah now we come to the truth, Margie sent you.”

This time it was David who rolled his eyes, “She seems to think this is our only way out of this. I am inclined to agree, unfortunately.”

“Go home David, tell your wife I send my fondest regards, but I would sooner gut my own belly than come to your aid.”

“You did not tell me we had visitors.” The men turned toward the intruding voice and David softened when he saw the Queen enter the chambers.

“Ali.” He responded fondly, accepting the hug she offered as she approached. “I apologize for the short notice.”

“You know you are always welcome here.” She turned toward her husband with a glance of annoyance.

“He was just leaving.” Brennan offered quickly.

“Nonsense, what brings you all this way, David? How are Margaret and the children?”

“Everyone is well, Margaret sends her love, I was just speaking to your husband about the situation at Umbury.”

“What news is there of Umbury?”

“Regina.” He said simply and the woman’s face filled with dread.

“There must be something we can do about this woman’s reign of terror.”

He glanced at the King, “That is the reason for my visit. If our Kingdom’s could unite, perhaps we stand a chance at defeating her.”

“There have been too many years of unrest between our lands, our people would never fight alongside yours.” The King complained.

“Not unless they had something to unite behind. Perhaps a truce or a reason for them to join forces.” The Queen suggested.

“If you are suggesting that David and I…”

“Out of the question.” David added.

“Unless…” Brenna said with a raise of his brow. “Your daughter, Emma. She must be at least 18 now?”

David turned toward him with confusion on his face. “She turned 20 this year, why?”

“Our son Liam just turned 24 and has yet to take a bride.”

“Brennan, that is not what I meant.” The Queen stepped forward.

“But if our children were to unite, our people would surely follow?” He turned toward his wife, “It would solve the issue of Liam not choosing a wife, it has been too long and would avoid the messy situation of David needing to grovel in apology.”

“You want my daughter to marry your son!” David remarked in annoyance. “I did not come here to offer my child up as some sort of trophy.”

“So, you came here to beg for forgiveness then?”

“I’ll do no such thing!”

“Boys, please.” The Queen yelled. “This is not getting us anywhere.”

“You realize this entire idea is insane?” He urged as he tried to appeal to the Queen’s common sense.

“Neither of our children are married, they are both of age, it does solve a certain problem. Unless you boys plan to admit that this feud is ridiculous and apologize.”

“Never.” They sang in unison.

“Then I think we should consider it.”

Accepting defeat, David promised to return home and speak to his wife. In a week’s time, Prince Liam would travel to Misthaven to meet with Princess Emma to discuss their courtship. Now all he needed to do was advise Emma that she would be getting married.

~*~

“I’ll do no such thing.” Emma screamed at her father after he announced her upcoming nuptials.

“We don’t have a choice.” Her father countered.

“How dare you make this decision for my life; you swore to me that you would never do that.”

“I’m the King of Misthaven, I have to think about what is right for this kingdom and its people.”

“But what I want doesn’t matter? That’s what he’s saying, Mother.” Emma spun around to face her mother who was sitting on her throne, a frown on her face.

“Emma, it’s our only choice. We need the kingdoms to unite. Your father has to make the difficult decisions for our survival.”

“Oh, this is rich coming from your mouth.” She growled. “If you hadn’t defied grandpa, you’d be married to King Brennan right now!”

“Emma!” Her father’s tone was loud and angry, but she didn’t care in the slightest. She would not be told that she had to give up her life to be tied to a man she did not know or love.

“Emma what?” She snorted. “Don’t speak the truth?”

“This is different.” He paused. “I loved your mother, and she chose me. Her father accepted that. You have yet to find anyone on your own that is up to your standards to marry. And Prince Liam needs a wife.”

“Does Prince Liam want a wife?” She asked defiantly.

“Emma, you are royalty, this is a responsibility that both you and Prince Liam bear. I am sure he understands his role in his family as the Heir Apparent to the throne, as should you.” Her mother scolded.

“I don’t wish to marry.” She pouted and her mother stood from her throne and walked over to Emma, draping her arm around her shoulder.

“Prince Liam is a lovely man, kind and fair. You will grow to love him as if you had chosen him yourself. You have a responsibility to the people of Misthaven to protect them above all else. You will rise to the occasion as Princess of Misthaven and do your duty.” A tear rolled down her cheek and her mother wiped it away, lifting her chin so that their eyes met. “If there was another way, your father and I would have pursued it. We’re asking you to do this, Emma, for us, for your people. I know this isn’t what you want and for that I am truly sorry.” She finished softly.

“If nothing else is required of me, I wish to retire to my room.” Emma stood from her spot, setting her jaw firmly as she glanced at her father, when neither of her parents responded, she turned and stormed from the room, not stopping until she was within her chamber. As soon as she bolted the door closed, she crumpled atop the duvet of her bed, sobbing into her pillow until she fell asleep.

~*~

“You will travel to Misthaven within the week to meet the Princess and begin the courtship.”

“Do you really believe this will help us defeat Regina?” Liam examined the way his father paced the room in front of him, worry set in the wrinkles of his forehead. He had known that Regina was getting closer to Jonesboro and that their swords were unmatched to her army.

“As much as I do not wish to align myself with Misthaven, we need their blades. Their army is large, and we will not survive a full-on assault from Regina without their assistance.”

“And you believe this is the only way?”

“If she is anything like her mother, she will be more than enough woman for you, son.” He patted his son on the back. “If you are not satisfied with her, you can always take a mistress.”

Liam rolled his eyes, “I will do what is required of me, Father.”

“Take your brother to assist you, but keep your eye on him, I do not wish another scandal.”

“Of course.” He said with a nod, exiting the throne room, ignoring the thunderous beating of his own heart. As soon as he was behind closed doors, he grumbled loudly, tossing his boots across the room. Being the first born carried a heavy responsibility. He would be King one day; he would rule all of Jonesboro and as the first born and Heir Apparent to the throne he was expected to take a wife of royal descent.

The tapestry in the corner of his room rustled and swayed until it pushed away from the wall and the blonde woman entered his chambers through the secret door.

“Elsa.” He breathed, crossing the room in long strides to pull her into his arms.

“I came as soon as you left the King’s chambers. Why were you summoned?”

He brushed his lips against hers, before burying his face in the crook of her neck. “It’s Regina, she’s advancing through the realms faster than expected. The King of Misthaven has brokered a deal with my father that will allow our kingdoms to join forces and defeat her.”

“That’s great news.” She sighed. “So what troubles you, my love?”

He took her hands in his, brushing his lips against her knuckles. “I’m to marry Princess Emma.” He felt her flinch at his words and his eyes squeezed shut.

“And you have agreed to this marriage?”

“We knew this day would come eventually.” She sighed and he opened his eyes to meet hers, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye which he immediately swiped away with his thumb. “This is my duty; I cannot let our people down.”

She took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “I know, that is why I love you.” He held her tight that evening, her body molded into his side as he watched the moon hang high in the sky. He had loved Elsa since he was a young boy when he first saw her outside the palace with her mother, one of the palace cooks, picking onions from the garden.

He had spent years ignoring the pull of his heart toward the young maiden, until he could yearn no more and took her as his own, locked away in a cottage hidden from the castle. They spent many nights lost in each other’s embrace, wishing that life were less complicated than it was.

He envied his brother Killian, as the second born, the responsibility to rule did not fall on his shoulders. His need to find a wife of royal blood was not necessary and as such, Killian took full liberties to live the life of a royal bachelor who bedded any beauty who would share their chamber with him. He knew nothing about responsibility and duty or even love. But Liam knew that as first born, he would one day be King, and he had to live up to his born right, even if it meant never getting to be with the woman he loved.

So instead of grumbling about fairness, he simply boarded the carriage with his brother and set off for Misthaven, preparing to court a woman he had never met and would never love.

“What if she’s ugly, brother?”

“I fail to see why that matters.” Liam groaned as his brother continued to barrage him with a variety of questions and statements about his situation.

“Would you really bed an ugly woman, simply for the honor of the kingdom?”

“Does everything come down to sex for you?”

His brother shrugged, “Not everything, I like a woman who can hold her rum as well.”

He stared out the tiny window in the carriage, wishing to be anywhere but on the road to Misthaven. “One day you will meet a woman who captures your attention even outside your bedchamber, little brother.”

“Why would I have need for a woman outside my bed chamber?” He smiled widely. “And that’s younger brother, Mate.” He corrected and Liam chuckled at the annoyance it caused the man. While Killian was only a few years younger than him, his jealousy of being the second born had always been apparent.

Killian had always been able to use his handsome features and natural charm to get by in the world, Liam envied his spirit. At 14, Killian lost his hand in a sailing incident, Liam never even saw him cry, he simply picked himself up, and despite his mother’s insistence of finding the best prosthetic their gold could procure, he had the silversmith craft him a hook and carried on his way.

Liam was sure eventually the impediment would bother him, but instead he used it to lure women in. He was sure that curiosity in addition to his cocksure demeanor brought about the loss of his virginity by age 15. Women were simply drawn to his playful yet assertive behavior. While Liam grew up by his father’s side, learning the proper way to rule a kingdom, Killian spent his learning poetry and sailing for adventure.

“Your looks won’t last forever and eventually you will desire a woman to want you for more than what you can provide to her in the bed chamber.” He chuckled but his younger brother simply cast his eyes upon their impending arrival.

The carriage came to a halt and Liam stepped through the open door, looking up at the castle in front of him. It was more lavish than their own, brighter colors and more inviting. He nodded to the man who greeted them.

“Prince Liam, Prince Killian, welcome to Misthaven. The King and Queen are expecting you.”

Killian’s grin was wide as he nodded to a maiden who walked past the carriage. Liam groaned and pulled him by the lapel toward the castle doors. “I have orders to keep you out of trouble on this trip, and that one looks like trouble.” He said with a glance toward the flirting maiden.

“You are no fun at all, brother.” He whined following him begrudgingly through the castle halls.

The large doors opened into a wide room, bright banners accenting the stained-glass windows. A golden curtain draped at the far end of the room, two large thrones sitting in the center of the wall. “Be on your best behavior, I beg of you.” He said through gritted teeth toward Killian.

A beautiful young woman stepped toward the King; he could only assume this was his future bride to be, her blonde hair braided into a golden crown. “At least she isn’t a troll.” Killian whispered.

“Welcome to Misthaven, Prince Liam.” King David spoke as he rose from his throne and stepped toward them. “It is an honor to have you here for such a happy occasion.” He smiled and Liam nodded to the man.

“It is an honor to be here.” He turned toward his brother, “This is my brother, Prince Killian.”

Killian bowed with a ridiculous grin on his face. “My father sends his regards.” Liam rolled his eyes; Killian always did have a way of being an ass without even trying. It was no secret that the feud between King David and their father had been contemptuous for years. His father never shared the reason that the two kingdoms were not friendly neighbors, but Liam knew it best not to ask his father of such things.

“I’m sure he does.” The King responded with a firm jaw. “Allow me to introduce you to the jewel of Misthaven. My daughter, Princess Emma.”

The blonde woman stepped forward; her mouth set in a straight line. She held out her hand and he took it, pressing his lips to her knuckles. “Pleasure, M’lady. While your kingdom is vibrant and glorious, it pales in comparison to your beauty.” He could have sworn she rolled her eyes, but she lowered her head before her emerald orbs could meet his. She didn’t even glance at her brother before she spoke.

“I’m sure the journey was long, and you would prefer to be taken to your chambers rather than spend another second pretending to be impressed by my overwhelming beauty.”

Killian snorted loudly beside him, and Liam elbowed him swiftly, a satisfying groan exiting his brother’s throat.

The King glanced at his daughter who barely gave him a glance as she took her place beside her mother.

“I will have you taken to your rooms; shall we expect you for dinner this evening?” The King interjected.

“Certainly, I look forward to seeing you this evening.” Liam said with a bow, turning to exit the room and dragging his brother forward with him. Once they were shown to their rooms, Killian doubled over with a rambunctious howl.

“Hopefully, she likes your performance in bed more than she enjoys your compliments.”

Liam groaned, he assumed all he needed to do was to arrive in Misthaven, court this woman and return home to his kingdom with a bride to be. Based on her reaction to him, that was going to be a bigger challenge than he planned.

Bloody hell.

[sh-tposter2021]

Fumbling

Chapter 2

Tw// None :)

Previously:

“He came up behind me and put his arms around my neck, laying loose and limp at the shoulders. I turned around to face him and stood on my tiptoes to plant a kiss on his soft lips. Yes, tonight was going to be perfect. It just had to be.”

I started thinking that the storm was a sign. A sign that tonight would go horribly. I pulled myself closer to Jackie. I couldn’t tell if I did it because I was nervous and wanted comfort or because the cold was starting to nip at my arms and I wanted warmth. But I know I did it out of pure instinct because this is how I used to act around my mother when I was scared as a child. I grabbed the iron knocker on the door and carefully hit the door with it.

The maid, Margie, opened the door. I sighed out of relief that it was her and not my father or mother. “Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N, Y/N and their friend are here for supper!” Her Austrian accent rang across the large auditorium of a foyer. I turned to look at Jack and his jaw was slack and eyes were widened. I chuckled. He regained his composure as we walked into the living area hand in hand where we saw Mother sitting in a rocking chair by the fire in her nicest gown, a long, baby pink house dress made of satin and silk. Her long, greying hair was up in a neat updo at the nape of her neck all tied up with a ribbon that matched her dress. My father was sitting on the couch in his nicest get up, a maroon velvet vest, black dress pants with matching suspenders and freshly shined black shoes.

He got up from the couch, clutching the most recent newspaper under his arm. “Welcome home my dear,” he said to me. He hugged me tight and planted a kiss on my forehead. “Hello there son. I’m Mayor Y/L/N. It’s my understanding that you’re in love with my youngest child?” He said to Jack with a loose grip on his shoulders. Jack, being nervous as all hell, gulped and looked at me. I returned a sweet and comforting smile and nodded. “Yes sir, I am,” Jack said. “I’m-“

“Jack Kelly. Yes, we know, our dear Y/N talks about you all the time,” my mother interrupted. “Oh, thank goodness you’re all in here. I just wanted to let you know that supper is ready,” Margie said. We all headed off to the dining room for supper.

The storm raged on outside as candles placed on plates on the linen tablecloth flickered.

“Margie, please go get a room ready for Mr. Kelly and Y/N,” my mother ordered.

“Yes ma’am” Margie obeyed. Her heels clicked on the marble stairs and with each click the more worried I got. I hadn’t planned on staying the night. I wanted to object but I knew better and I knew that this would most likely be Jack’s only chance to stay somewhere nice.

“Thank you for the offer but I really must be going home tonight,” Jack said. “I have many younger brothers I must take care of.”

I didn’t know what to say or if I should say anything because that technically wasn’t a lie, but it also was, so all I did was grab his hand and nod. “Please stay, it’s the least we can do for you,” my father chimed in. “You’ll be gettin’ a break from all those boys and more time with my darlin’ Y/N.”

I have never blushed more in my life, especially in front of my parents. “Please Jackie,” I said, in the soft, angelic voice he couldn’t resist. “The boys’ll be fine for one night. They have Anthony and David to take care of ‘em. We can go back first thing in the mornin’ if you’re so worried, okay?” He wrinkled his nose, either out of disappointment for using Race’s real name or trying to resist my cuteness. After a few quiet moments he answered.

“Alright,” he sighed. “Thank you so much Mr. and Mrs. Y/L/N for your hospitality.”

“Oh, you’re so welcome Mr. Kelly,” my mother replied. “Anyone that our Y/N loves, we love.”

I looked down, blushing even more furiously than before. We continued eating supper and talking about the day before heading to the large room that Margie had prepared.

[ximera-marrow]

Book Club Part 4

Masterlist

Oops, I did it again @theobligatedklutz

You, our lovely readers, may be wondering: is there any rhyme or reason to the content of these posts or the order of them?

The answer is no. Enjoy!

The band didn’t mention them. Never said anything out loud. But Luke knew they were all thinking about them.

The Posters

All of a sudden, they were everywhere. His face was plastered across LA as a Missing Person.

He wasn’t missing! His parents knew exactly where to find him if they wanted to.

He doesn’t even just mean Mr. Jenkins in the book club, either. His parents aren’t stupid. They know where his band mates live. They know where they practiced. It wouldn’t be hard to find him if they were actually looking.

Nah. Luke’s betting this was his grandmother’s work. Old Lady Laverne was always convinced that he’d been running around doing the whole “sex, drugs, and rock and roll” thing since even before he joined the band.

He thinks “maybe I’ll ask Mr. Jenkins what she’s saying about me in her church group,” when he realizes, all the book club members are going to see them.

Luke decides not to go that week.

When Alex, Reggie, and Bobby get there, the room is tense. They’ve all seen the posters. They know why Luke didn’t show up.

They all sit in silence for a few moments before Linda speaks up.

“Alright. It’s more tense in here than Margie’s scowl. Who wants to go first? And I’m not talking about the book, Reginald, so no subject changing.”

“I wasn’t- yeah okay.”

Reggie, Alex, and Bobby are mostly looking down, while casting furtive glances at each other, when Mr. Jenkins speaks up.

“Look, I’m not sure how much you all are aware of Luke’s situation. But I can assure you that his parents know he’s attending these meetings. I talk to them twice a week.”

Jill says what everyone is thinking “Then why report him as missing?”

“They didn’t. It was Luke’s grandmother who’s been having the police spread those posters. Sure, his parents want Luke home, but if they wanted to drag him back, they would’ve done it by now.”

Margie: “So you’re just suggesting we keep information from the police?”

Jill: “Why not?! The people who actually care about him know he’s safe. I swear Margie if you-“

Margie: “Oh would you relax, Jillian? This wouldn’t be the first time I’ve hidden someone from the law.”

Everyone: “...”

Mr. Jenkins: “...alright then. That aside, I highly doubt anyone in this room would turn Luke over to the police.”

Linda: “And if they did, Margie probably knows how to hide a body.”

Margie: “Oh hush. Boys, just tell him to get his heathen self here next week, or you’ll have a van full of old people ‘cramping your style’ at your next performance.”

Jill: “I think what she means to say is that we need to boys to know you’re safe here.”

Linda: “Yes, you are. But also, I like Margie’s threat.”

Reggie: “You guys know you’re too cool to cramp our style.”

Mr. Jenkins: “Sure, kiddo. But that’s in private. In public, we have no problem pretending to be senile. Remember that.”

All three boys: “Noted!”

The next week, Luke was back. And he expressly invited them to their next gig. It wasn’t a verbal “thank you,” but for Luke, they knew it was so much more.

[atlanticcanada]

Nova Scotia taxi driver leaves $1.68 million to local hospital in his will

It was no surprise that beloved Antigonish, N.S., taxi driver John MacLellan gave what money he had to the local hospital in his will, family friend Margie Zinck said.

"But we were very surprised by the amount," Zinck said, reached by phone Wednesday at her home in Antigonish, in the province's northeast.

MacLellan, who went by Johnny, left $1.68 million to St. Martha's Regional Hospital, marking the largest single donation in its history.

He spent 63 years as a taxi driver in Antigonish before retiring at 89 after a stroke. MacLellan was always frugal, Zinck said, adding that she believes he made some of his money in the stock market.

"He always kept saying he'd leave a lot of money to the hospital; he was always saying that," Zinck said, adding that she never imagined how much money he would give.

MacLellan died in 2018 at age 96, and he gifted $1.68 million to the hospital in increments spread over several months. The hospital received the final payment from MacLellan's estate in June 2021. The generous gift was only made public earlier this month, however, when the St. Martha's Hospital Foundation released a video tribute to MacLellan.

Foundation chair Meghan MacGillivray-Case said her group didn't realize the true size of the donation until it received the last payment.

"We are so very grateful to John MacLellan," she said in an interview Wednesday. "It's just so impactful to the community here."

Zinck said she met MacLellan when she was 13 years old. He worked most of his career for Zinck Taxi, the company owned by the father of her husband, Donald Zinck. She said MacLellan drove her and a few classmates to school before there was a bus route.

"He was very kind and he always talked to us," she said. "He'd find out everything about everybody. He'd find out where you came from and who your parents are."

Zinck said it was well known that MacLellan loved being a taxi driver and took pride in doing the job well. "I think he knew most of the history of Antigonish and people's problems."

Residents in the community knew they could call him for a ride, she said, even if they were without money. He would often help his riders bring in groceries and offer a hand in whatever way he could, she added.

MacLellan joined Zinck Taxi in 1946, and for years after it got rid of its uniform for drivers, he stood out among his colleagues because he continued to wear the company-issued blue driving cap and personalized belt.

"He was more like family," Zinck said of MacLellan. "And I think Donny, my husband, always thought of him more like a father figure."

Zinck says the pair, who went by Donny and Johnny, remained close friends throughout their lives. She and her husband found out about the generous donation before Donny died in January.

"I'm sure my husband is smiling down because he really wanted to make sure Johnny got recognized for this."

The $1.68 million has been put into an endowment fund that will be used to purchase new hospital equipment and for medical training. The palliative care unit where MacLellan spent a short period of time before his death has been named the John MacLellan Palliative Care Unit.

This report by The Canadian Press was first published April 21, 2022.

from CTV News - Atlantic https://ift.tt/lDq5Mcj