#sorry not sorry for drawing my son so much lately . i loves him

[spiritoast]

tried digitally emulating my old marker style on a scanned sketch, had a lot of fun w/ it and now i wanna do more pieces w/ this coloring style lol

[book-place]

Where You Lead

Warnings: mentions of fighting, hunting, weapons and violence, drinking, hints of parental abuse and neglect, cursing, injuries and blood, gunshots wounds, mentions of death let me know if I missed any :)

Pairings: Dean Winchester x sister reader, Sam Winchester x sister reader

*not my gif*

Summary: Ever since you first came home from the hospital, you and Dean had an unbreakable bond

A/N: Welcome to book place’s one year event!!

Inspired by: Where You Lead I Will Follow by Carole King

Please don’t plagiarize my work, you may reblog if you like but I’m asking that you don’t steal my hard work

Loving you the way I do

“This is your baby sister, Y/n,” This might be the first time since his mother was alive that Dean had heard his fathers voice be as soft as it was.

“Can I hold her? Please, can I hold her?” Sam begged, bouncing up and down on his toes in anticipation.

“Dean gets to hold her first, Sam,” John scowled slightly, “We talked about this already.”

The- now middle- Winchester sibling stopped jumping immediately and dropped his head slightly, “Sorry,” He mumbled, kicking his shoe slightly against the motel ground.

As gently as humanly possible, nine year old Dean gingerly held you in his arms, supporting your head the way your father had shown him before gazing at you in wonder.

You tossed and turned a little bit in the hospital blanket that was wrapped securely around you, before you blinked your eyes open slightly.

Instead of screaming and crying like he expected you to do, you just stared up at your older brother in the same amazement that he looked over you with; and that amazement soon melted into full adoration on his features.

“Is it my turn yet?” Sam whined, and John finally relented with a small huff.

The hesitation was visible on Dean's face, looking as if it pained him to pass you over to his little brother, something that escaped both Sam and John’s notice.

What John didn’t miss though, was the way his eldest son lingered near you and Sam, looking ready to spring forward at any moment and save you should Sam accidentally drop you.

“She’s fine, Dean, quit hovering.” John told his son gruffly. But for the first time in his life, the boy didn't snap at attention to scramble and do what his father had said. For the first time, he pretended as if he didn’t hear the man as he continued to stare down at you.

I know we’re gonna make it through

“I’ll be back in a couple days, don’t do anything to draw attention to yourselves.” John warned with a small glare before turning on his heel and exiting the motel room, slamming the door shut behind him.

Dean let out a small breath, glancing over his shoulder to where you sat on Sam’s lap on the crammed couch, both of you engrossed in the cartoon before you.

It had been two years since you were born, and Dean was yet to hear his fathers voice grow soft again, even around you. In fact, John began to try and distance himself from you as much as he could.

He had once confessed to Dean when he was almost black out drunk that it was because he had a child with a woman who wasn’t Mary, and while he and Sam could remind him of his late wife, you did no such thing.

It wasn’t your fault of course, and Dean knew that. He knew that it wasn’t fair for your father to distance himself from you for something you couldn’t control, which would inevitably affect you one way or another eventually.

He walked over to the couch before plopping down onto the small cushion beside the two of you and held out his arms, “Giver ‘er here, Sammy.”

The boy did so, and you giggled slightly at being passed around. You looked up at Dean with a wide smile before turning your attention back to the screen.

A small sigh escaped his lips as he watched over his two siblings, both who were completely oblivious to the fact that John had only left a few cans of food in the room and a very limited amount of money without the certainty of when he would return.

He placed a small kiss on the top of your head. He was going to get you all through this, just like he always did.

And I would go to the ends of the earth

“We asked for a parent or guardian of Y/n Winchester.” The principal raised a single eyebrow as he spoke, eyeing the clearly high school level student.

“I’m her older brother,” Dean grunted with narrowed eyes, “Isn’t that good enough if our father can’t make it?”

The older man sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose, “Fine, fine. We should get this started, then.” He then beckoned with his hand for you and one of your classmates to come into his office.

You shuffled in, eyes lighting up when you spotted Dean and you hurriedly squealed, rushing over and jumping into his arms, “Hey, sweetheart.” He mumbled, pressing a kiss in your hair.

“What is this about?” The mother of your classmate demanded, shooting daggers at you and your brother from where she sat in a chair a couple feet away.

“I’m afraid we are going to have to suspend the two of them,” The principal spoke.

A look of bewilderment came over Dean's features, “S-suspend? For what? She’s five!”

“Even so, they both must be held accountable for their actions.”

“Which was what, exactly?” He demanded, grip tightening around you protectively.

“The two of them got into a small fight and disrupted the class.” He informed him and the other mom.

“That’s outrageous!” Said mother shrieked, jumping to her feet, “My daughter would never get into a fight!”

“She hit me, I didn’t do anything,” You mumbled into Dean's ear, and he felt his anger begin to boil in his blood.

“Y/n didn’t do anything,” Dean stated, a venomous glint in his eyes as he stared down the mother and the principal.

“Oh?” The woman screeched, whirling around and pointing a finger at him, “And how did you figure that out?” She hissed.

“Because she told me she didn’t,” He said plainly.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes as if he just said the most idiotic thing she’d ever heard, “And how do you know you can believe her?”

Dean stood up immediately, you still clutched to his chest as he glared right back at the older woman, “Because she isn’t lying.” He told her with a dangerous tinge in his tone before simply turning on his heel and striding out of the office.

Your arms wrapped around his neck and you buried your face in his shirt, “Thanks, De.” You whispered.

'Cause, darling, to me that's what you're worth

“What the hell is this?” John snapped with a glare, picking up a doll that had gently been set on the table.

Dean swallowed, eyes flitting over to your sleeping form on the bed beside him, your chest rising and falling steadily.

You hadn’t meant to, and Dean knew that. You were only eight, you hadn’t meant to wander out the store with the doll in your grip as if it was already yours and not something you had just picked up off the shelf.

He had been too preoccupied to even notice until the two of you got home, and he had sighed as he watched your eyes fill with tears and your bottom lip wobble as you stared up at him after telling you that it would have to be taken back.

Reluctantly, he had given in and decided that it wouldn’t even matter if you brought it back now, so he had said he would let you keep it this one time if you never did it again.

Of course, Dean couldn’t tell his father that, then he would be angry at you. And your older brother always did everything in his power to shield you from that side of John.

“I-I took it, sir.” Your older brother cleared his throat, glancing up at his fathers raging form, “I wanted to get her a toy to have.”

The older man let out a loud scoff, rolling his eyes, “Why the hell would you do that?”

“Because sh-she needs toys,” He tried to sound as confident as he could without his voice wavering again. You needed him, he would not give you up like that, “I thought she needed toys.” He was more confident this time.

John dropped the doll carelessly to the ground with a snarl, “Next time,” He seethed, “Next time I catch you pulling any of this shit, there’s gonna be consequences.”

He was talking to Dean as if he weren’t seventeen years old. As if he were still just a child.

But the boy bit his tongue and nodded his head once, visibly relaxing once his father stomped out of the room. He looked back at you and let a small sigh loose, relieved that you hadn’t woken up.

Carefully, he pulled the blankets higher on your body that had slipped down from some tossing and turning.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Dude,” Sam spoke up, glancing away from his homework for a split second to give Dean a look, “She’s fine.”

The man immediately froze, stopped tapping his foot and snapped his head over to his younger brother, “What?”

“Y/n,” The younger boy's head was already facing the textbook again, “She just went out with a couple friends. You can stop stressing out, she's fine.”

Dean hadn’t even realized that he had eagerly been staring out the motel window, awaiting your return with about as much impatience as a toddler.

“I know that,” He shot back defensively, forcing his muscles to relax from his stiff, upright sitting position and relax against the back of the chair.

Sam looked up again, eyebrows raised so high that they disappeared under his hair, “Oh? You’re not staring at the parking lot as if she didn’t just leave five minutes ago?”

“No,” Dean grumbled, sinking down and crossing his arms over his chest.

A sigh left Sam’s lips, “She’s eleven, dude. And she’s just down the road if you need to get to her.”

“Or if she needs to get to me.” He hadn’t even thought as the words slipped through his lips.

There was a pause, “Yeah… yeah, if she needs to get to you, she can easily do it.” He reassured his older brother.

Despite the clear way the words were forced out, Dean still relaxed for real when he heard them, but didn’t move away from the window as he waited for you to return.

Anywhere that you tell me to

You shuffled through the door, head hung low as you dropped your backpack with a small ‘thud’ beside the table. Sam reached out and rubbed your shoulders comfortingly.

Dean looked over his shoulder from where he was preparing dinner, “Hey, sweetheart, hey Sammy-“ He cut himself off when he caught sight of your defeated look and Sam’s pitying one, “What is it?” He immediately rushed out, “What’s wrong?”

You just sniffled slightly and crossed your arms over your chest, kicking at the floor.

“Sam?” He automatically turned his attention to the boy when you didn’t answer, “What’s wrong?” He demanded again.

John had just dropped the two of you off back at the motel after school before rushing off, saying that the hunt was not over even though he thought it had been.

A tear slipped down your cheek, and right as it did so, you took off towards the bathroom, slamming and locking the door behind you, leaving your brothers behind.

“Sam.”

“There’s this father-daughter dance going on for her grade,” He sighed, and it clicked into place right away for Dean.

“Dad couldn’t go?” He asked softly.

“He wouldn’t,” Sam corrected him angrily with a scoff, crossing his arms over his chest, “He told her it was a waste of time.”

All at once, a blinding rage boiled up inside of Dean, one of the only times in his entire life that he was anything but scared of his father. For once, he hated the man.

His thoughts snapped back to the present though when he realized that you were still crying in the bathroom, and he immediately reeled his emotions in. You needed him more than he needed to be angry right now.

With a sigh, he crept over and gently knocked on the door after shooting a swift nod of thanks to Sam’s direction, “N/n?” He called softly, “Sweetheart, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There was a moment of silence before the man heard a slight click of a door being unlocked, and he didn’t hesitate to rush in.

Your cheeks were stained with tears and your eyes were bloodshot in a way that made Dean's heart shatter into a million pieces.

“Oh, n/n,” He cooed, sinking onto the ground beside you and pulling you to his chest, rubbing a hand up and down your back comfortingly as you cried into his shirt.

He kept whispering comforting words in your ear until you were reduced to sniffles and hiccups that were an effect of after-sobbing.

“D-dad doesn’t want to go with me,” You choked out, clutching a handful of your brother's shirt tightly.

Dean sighed, unsure of what to tell you. Of whether or not he should lie and tell you that your father really did want to go, he was just busy. But he realized that you were now old enough to see right through that.

“I’ll go with you,” As soon as the thought popped into his mind, he hadn’t even given himself a second to process it before blurting it out loud.

You reeled back and stared up at him with wide eyes, “Wha-“

“I’ll go to the father-daughter dance with you,” He shrugged, “I know I’m not dad, but at least you’ll have someone to go with.”

Slowly, a large grin broke out onto your face and you threw yourself into his arms again, squeezing tightly as you let out an excited squeal, “Thank you, thank you, thank you!”

He laughed, hugging you with the same amount of force, “My pleasure, sweetheart.”

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” Dean's eyebrows flew up in shock as the smell of alcohol filled his senses.

“Duh,��� You slurred, stumbling slightly to stand upright as you made your way into the motel room, “Who else would I be? Bobby?”

“Are you… drunk?” He had to blink a couple of times to help his brain fully process what he was seeing. You, his baby sister, hardly fifteen years old, drunk out of your mind.

“Noo,” You whined, “God, get off my case.”

“Hey,” He stood up, arm wrapping around your waist automatically as you almost fell over your own feet, “Come on,” Gently, he led you over to sit down on the bed.

With a large sigh of relief, you fell onto your back and cuddled into the sheets, “Thanks, dad.” You mumbled.

Dean's eyes were practically bugging out of his head at this point. He swallowed thickly, “Y-you know I’m not dad, right?”

“Well not biololy-“ You paused with furrowed eyebrows, “Beeolog-“

“Biologically?” He filled in the missing word for you, unsure of where you were trying to go with this as he turned on his heel to get you a glass of water.

You snapped your fingers, pointing a lazy finger at him, “Bingo! You might not be my dad biologically, but you’re more of a father to me than John- John is.” Your head was nuzzling into a pillow by now.

He sputtered, practically dropping the glass before setting it down on the bedside table, “That-that’s not true.” He insisted, “You don’t think that.”

“Sober words are drunk thoughts,” You slurred before opening your eyes and pausing to think, “Wait… that’s not right…”

He sighed, picking up the water and coaxing you to sit up so he could give it to you.

“We’ll talk in the morning,” Dean told you softly, leaning forward to place a kiss on your forehead.

Even after you eventually drifted off to sleep, he couldn’t do so himself. Still trying to wrap his mind around what you said. About if you actually believed your own words.

I will follow where you lead

“Dean.” You reached up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “I’m old enough to go on a date.”

He scowled, sinking further into his chair with his arms crossed, “I disagree,” He grumbled.

“Of course you do,” You sighed before turning back to the bathroom mirror and checking your reflection one last time before stepping out.

“Do you have your gun?” He asked automatically. And if it were anyone else, you would have laughed. But this was your eldest brother, and you knew for a fact that he was dead serious.

“I don’t think I need-“

“Do you have your gun?” He demanded again, glowering from across the room.

“Yes, yes, I have my gun.” You reassured him, lifting up your handbag of where it was resting dramatically to further your point.

Silence rang out between the two of you for a moment, having your own mini stare down, before it was his turn to sigh and stand up before striding across the room to you.

He put his hands on each of your shoulders, looking you in the eye, “I just want what’s best for you.” He told you sincerely.

Your hands went up to gently grasp onto his wrists and squeeze, “I know that, De,” You spoke softly, “But you can’t protect me from everything.”

“I can try,” He replied stubbornly, cracking a smile when you snorted.

Taking your hands off of his, you moved your arms to wrap around his torso and pull him into a tight hug.

He was just about to return it when a knock rang through the room. Your date was at the door.

Slowly, you let go and looked up at your big brother with a smile.

If you're out on the road

“Where’s Sammy when you need him?” You groaned, dropping your head into your arms that rested against the table.

“Shut it,” Dean grumbled, “I can help you just as well as he could.”

You rolled your eyes up to the ceiling, “You’ve failed every math class you’ve ever been in, genius.”

“And who told you that?”

“Sam.” You said in a ‘duh’ tone.

Dean scoffed, “Well, Sammy’s a freaking liar.”

You rose your eyebrows and placed your head in your hand, waiting as his eyes raked up and down the paper.

“Well?” You asked after a few moments.

“Well, this is hard.” He snapped back.

You threw your hands up, “That's why I asked for help!”

He seemed to ponder something for a moment before putting the paper down tentatively, “Math was always stupid anyway. I don’t think it would hurt if you didn’t do this one assignment.”

“So, you’re admitting to not knowing how to do this?”

“…no.”

“Yes.”

“No.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“… fine, I failed every math class I’ve ever taken.”

Feeling lonely, and so cold

“You’re gonna be fine, you’re gonna be fine.” Dean muttered, not knowing if he was trying to reassure you or himself more as he put so much pressure on the gas that his foot had begun to hurt.

“D-Dean-“ You muttered from the passenger seat, lulling your head to the side to try and face him.

Quickly, he shushed you, doing everything in his power not to focus solely on the crumbled up shirt you were holding against your stomach to try and apply pressure to your wound. He knew if he focused on that for longer than a couple of seconds, he would abandon his mission of getting you straight to a hospital and try to take care of it on his own.

He knew his mind would kick into a protective, frenzy overdrive and he wouldn’t allow himself to wait until he arrived at his destination.

Of course, the one day Sam wasn’t feeling well enough to join the two of you on a hunt- one that was supposed to be so simple that Dean finally- begrudgingly- allowed you to come on, you had gotten shot in the stomach.

As soon as that had happened, everything about the hunt immediately flew as far from Deans mind as humanly possible, even letting the shooter get away in his panicked state as his brain switched to autopilot mode and he scooped you up and rushed you to the car.

Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was going to happen to you. Nothing was-

A violent cough raked through your body, making your older brother visibly flinch as he pressed down harder on the pedal, even if he was already going as fast as he could.

“You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart,” He muttered, harshly blinking away the tears that began to pool in his eye ducts.

All you have to do is call my name

“Dean?” You whispered into the darkness hesitantly.

“Wh-What? What’s wrong?” His eyes immediately snapped open and he flew out of the bed at your nervous tone.

He gently took ahold of each of your shoulders and blinked the sleep away from his eyes as they scanned your face through the darkness for any sign of distress.

“I-I had a nightmare…” You muttered weakly, feeling heat begin to spread to your cheeks as you averted your eyes from your elder brother.

“Oh,” He breathed out, relaxing only slightly when he realized that you were in no immediate danger, “Oh, it’s okay, sweetheart.” He quickly wrapped his arms around you and brought you to his chest.

Your own arms snaked around him in return, burying your face in his chest and allowing him to rock both of you back and forth slightly as he rubbed your back soothingly.

“Can I stay?” You whispered meekly, refusing to look him in the eyes from the sheer embarrassment of it all.

“Of course,” He answered without hesitation, keeping an arm wrapped around you as he gently led you to the bed.

As soon as you were both lying down and under the sheets, you cuddled into your older brothers chest and let out a little sigh of content, “Thank you, De.” You whispered sleepily.

“I have nightmares all the time too,” He whispered after a few moments of silence, “They got worse after you almost died on that hunt.”

You felt his arms tighten around you as he spoke, and you held on just as tight in return.

“We’re okay,” He spoke comfortingly, kissing the top of your head again, “We’re okay.”

And I'll be there on the next train

“I-I need help,” You spoke shakily into the phone, wrapping your free arm tighter around yourself as you spoke.

“Alright, I’m on my way.” Came Dean's determined reply.

No, ‘I told you so’. No, ‘You made this mess, you can get out of it yourself’. No, ‘You shouldn’t have gone in the first place’. Just your selfless, loving brother who was willing to drop everything he was doing because you had made a mistake. Because you had insisted that you could finally go on a solo hunt despite his protests and pleas. Because he had been so scared of a repeat from the last time he had allowed you to go on a hunt. And even that time you were with him, this time you wouldn’t be.

And now you were in over your head and you needed your older brother to bail you out.

“Dean?” You sniffled slightly into your phone, “I’m sorry.”

“I know, sweetheart, I know.” He spoke soothingly.

In the background, you hear the car start as if he had just been sitting in it waiting for your call.

You wouldn’t be surprised. But you couldn’t find it in yourself to be mad at him.

Where you lead, I will follow

“Sam’s gonna kill us ya’know.” You spoke, shoveling another spoonful of cereal into your mouth.

“What Sammy doesn’t know won’t hurt him,” Dean replied calmly, leaning back against the couch cushions, eyes trained solely on the Scooby-Doo episode.

“We’re supposed to be researching lore about the case,” Even though you said it, you made no effort to turn off the television and go back to work.

“You and I both know that he’ll do all of it anyway,” He reminded you, “Might as well enjoy our time instead of wasting it.”

A chuckle escaped from your lips as you softly shook your head back and forth, folding your legs underneath you and entertaining your brother by watching his favorite show with him.

Anywhere that you tell me to

“How do you mess up making toast?” You yelled over the fire alarm.

“I don’t know! Okay? I don’t know!” Dean's voice boomed back as he wildly jumped around with a towel while trying to fan the smoke out of the room.

Despite his protests, the alarms screeching didn't come to the halt you had hoped for. If anything, it seemed to get even louder.

“I leave you alone for five minutes and this is what happens!” You scolded, “I swear, I feel like I’m the older one sometimes.”

“Just shut it and help me!” He snapped.

You sighed irritatedly, but grabbed a towel anyway and joined in on his efforts of stopping an almost inevitable fire.

It took a while- and a lot more screaming matches- before the alarm finally died down and the only thing that remained from the fire was the ringing in your ears, the faint smell of smoke, and a burnt beyond recognition piece of toast.

“Let’s… let’s not speak of this ever again.” Dean finally huffed out after catching his breath.

A wicked smile made its way onto your face at his words, “In your dreams,” You told him sinisterly.

His face dropped and he looked at you in horror, “Don’t you dare-“

“Oh, Sam,” You sang, practically dancing out of the room.

“Get back here!” The sound of thundering feet coming bounding after you made you squeal and pick up your pace.

If you need, you need me to be with you

“Y/n?” You ferociously wiped away the tears that stained your cheeks when you door was knocked on, “Sweetheart? Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah, I’m fine, Dean.” You silently cursed yourself for the small crack in your voice as you spoke. Though you doubted it would even need to be there for your brother to know that something was wrong.

“I’m coming in,” He announced, waiting only a split second to see if you would protest before opening your door and immediately scanning his eyes over you to see what was the matter.

“Hey, hey,” He murmured gently, dropping down in front of where you sat on your bed once he realized you didn’t appear to be in any physical pain, “What’s wrong?”

You shook your head when you were unable to speak, averting your eyes from his wide, concerned ones.

“Talk to me,” He pleaded softly. He hated when something was the matter that he didn’t know about, it absolutely killed him.

“It’s just-“ You choked out a small sob, “Why?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he unconsciously swiped a piece of hair from your face, “Why, what, sweetheart?”

Again, you shook your head, “I’m being so stupid-“

“Hey,” He gently grabbed your chin and made you look at him, “Anything making you upset is not stupid. Now what’s wrong?”

“Why can’t we just have a normal life?” His heart dropped, “Why did dad have to drag us into this? We’ve lost so many people because of what we do and I just don’t know if I can take it anymore-“

“Hey, hey,” He shushed you softly, immediately wrapping his arms around you, “Shh, it’s okay, I know. Believe me, sweetheart, I know. It’s not fair. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, Dean.” You sniffled, pulling away and wiping your face with your sleeve.

“Still,” Tears began to form in his own eyes and he was forced to harshly blink them away, “I wish more than anything that you could have been spared from this. And I am so damn sorry that you weren’t.”

“I don’t want this for you either, Dean.” You told him softly.

He smiled sadly, “I know, sweetheart, I know. But at least we have each other.”

You were finally able to smile slightly at that, “Yeah, we do. Don’t we?”

I will follow

Humming lightly to yourself, you put the finishing touches on the dish before you and stepped back with your hands on your hips, proudly smiling down at it.

“N/n!” Dean's voice echoed through the halls, “I’m home!”

“In the kitchen!” You echoed back, excitedly jumping to hide the plate behind your back just in time for him to enter.

He entered with a wide smile, “Hey, sweetheart, what’s-“ He froze and eyed you suspiciously, “What are you up to?”

Unable to even attempt to hide your eagerness anymore, you leapt to the side and dramatically put your arms out to the side, “Ta da!” You guestered to the plate you had previously been hiding.

A wide grin automatically broke out onto his face as he came scurrying over to the counter with childlike excitement, “Pie?” He practically squealed, “You made me pie?”

You nodded proudly, putting your hands on your hips.

He rushed over and scooped you in a long hug, spinning you around in a way that made you giggle, “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!” He gushed while gently setting you down, “Have I ever told you that you’re the best sister ever?” He was already taking a fork and shoveling some of it into his mouth.

“I could do with hearing it more often.” You teased.

“You’re the best sister ever!” He cheered, devouring the dessert happily.

Where you lead

The steady rocking of the car did nothing to help your tired state, nor did the music softly drifting out of the speakers and filling the small space effortlessly.

Dean's eyes flitted over to you for a quick second, “You can go to sleep, it’ll be a couple more hours until we get there.” He told you softly.

You shook your head stubbornly despite the yawn you had to bite back, “I wanna stay up with you,” You murmured, unconsciously cuddling up against the seat.

“We had a long day, just get some rest.” He insisted in the same gentle tone.

Finally, you weren’t able to hold back your exhaustion any longer and you practically melted into the cushions, “Fine,” You mumbled, “But only for a few minutes.”

He laughed lightly, reaching over with one hand and ruffling your hair playfully, “Sleep well, sleepyhead.” He teased.

“I love you, De,” You whispered, eyes already drifting shut and your head lulling to rest against the window.

“I love you too, sweetheart.”

Idjits 👟- @ineedmorefanfics2 @roseblue373 @popfishjr @kiyomi-uchiha777

[satorubi]

𝐓𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐄𝐒𝐓 𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐆𝐄 - toji fushiguro

· ₊ ⊹ SYNOPSIS — toji knows just how to get back at your ex.

「❀」 pairing : toji fushiguro x black fem! reader

「❀」 content warning : minors do not interact ! dad’s bestfriend toji, age gap ꒰ toji is forty and reader is in her late twenties ꒱ missionary, fingering, use of the word bitch - during sex - just once, use of pet names such as ꒰ sweetheart, pretty, slut ꒱

「❀」 word count : 3.6K whoop whoop !!

「❀」 author’s note : hiii !!! here’s me re-uploading this edited version of tastiest revenge - apart of my friendship is magic series - bc tumblr took it down the first time :/ i wanted to put out the gojo fic first but due to school starting, i realized how busy i’ve become :0 please enjoy & interactions n reblogs are always loved <33

you were taken aback when toji answered your call. not only was the time 10:56 PM, but it was also the middle of the week. you ought to been fast asleep in your apartment by now, getting a good night's rest for whatever the world had in store for you tomorrow. but, alas, you were slouching on toji fushiguro's porch, your clothes drenched from the light rain and your makeup smeared from all the tears you'd let fall down your pretty face.

toji stands up from his recliner and looks around before hurriedly opening the door. his heart nearly bursts from your change in vigor. the hesitant, kindhearted disposition you always possessed seems to have been lost just about now; you have a slight pout on your face and stare up at him with imploring eyes.

he swiftly draws you into the warmth of his chest and shut the door behind him without you having to speak another word. his contact causes your body to tremble, and the rumble from his chest doesn't do you credit. all you could hear was him repeatedly mumbling phrases like ‘speak to me’ and ‘i’m right here.’

he allows you a brief minute to collect your thoughts as your nose started to run due to all the sniffling you'd been doing. as he goes into the kitchen, you take a seat on one of the three cushions, letting your head rest against the seat. toji could be seen pouring tea into a lovely glass mug out of the corner of your tearful eyes.

“you wanna’ tell me what brings you here?” he asks, settling into the couch and leaving you both with just enough space. you were completely silent. that bubbly, talkative spirit you usually had was much more comforting compared to the silence he was experiencing right now. you looked completely drained— almost as if someone had completely stripped you from your joy.

“im sorry, toji. i didn’t mean to impose l-like this,” you utter and he chuckles. he gathers the remote in his hand and turns the tv down, figuring you were ready to vent.

“it’s not a bother at all, yn. y’know that.”

you weakly smile, taking a sip of the warm liquid given to you. a deep sigh leaves your lips, “he cheated. like.. a lot.”

before you finished speaking, you could see toji clench his jaw. your former boyfriend, or ‘a fucking bastard,’ as toji used to describe him, was a dumbass. toji wasn't surprised when you discussed this matter, given that the kid was well known for his horrible reputation with the ladies at your uni. since the minute he shook his hand at your birthday all those months ago, he was able to tell that the youngster was a jackass.

the son of a bitch was disrespectful when toji first met him. he spoke of you as if you were merely an item on his arm or a tool at his disposal. he was a real asshole and a heartbreaker; he wasn't your typical old bum of a man, and toji could read him from a mile away.

the kid wore a smug look on his face, only a look of someone without pure intentions would have. he was playing you the entire time and it was easy to see from the eyes of someone who was once a player his damn self.

you see, toji was irritated by the notion that someone could be so foolish as to lose a woman like you. someone who was so understanding, determined to get what she wanted, clever, and humorous in response to everything said to her.

blind. he had to be blind is all.

“a video was posted of him today. he was kissing another girl at some party,” yet another stray tear fell from the brim of your eye and there toji was to wipe it away, “i’m such an idiot.”

no you aren’t.

“nah, he’s a dumbass, and i’ll be damned if i have to sit here and watch you cry over something that isn’t your fault.”

you take a tiny pause in an effort to contain the tears that were on the verge of escaping. of course, none of this was your fault, but for some reason, you felt that you had to bear some responsibility. you made a foolish decision by disobeying all the guidance you had been given, and as a result, you are again stuck with the consequences. given that your father and toji had warned you about the man from the start, you were surprised that he had the strength to even talk to you about it.

“i just- i just should’ve listened to you, that’s all.”

toji sighs, grabbing ahold of your hands and squeezing them gently, “it’s a bad time to say i told you so, so i’m just gonna’ say i’m glad that you’ve come to your senses. he was a dickhead.”

toji noticed you smiling for the first time tonight, so his clumsy joke must have succeeded. genuinely. after your brief burst of laughter, you kept your gaze fixed on toji’s flatscreen without saying a word. the house's four walls reverberated with the faint sound of a local broadcaster's voice as the two of you sat in quiet comfort.

he hopes he won't have to be the one to break the news by asking, “does your father know?” he despised doing things behind his back, but if you wanted him to, he could keep a secret. you admired that you could talk to toji about nearly anything, which was one of his best qualities. he wasn't patronizing or disciplining like your dad.

yes, you adored your old man dearly, but there are instances when hearing someone else's point of view than that of a parent can be quite beneficial. toji. would undoubtedly advise you of right and wrong, but he would never make you feel bad about yourself.

we’re human beings and we all make our fair share of mistakes.

by this time, you were no longer sobbing and you were getting a little bit closer to the man. his side profile is followed by your suckling eyes as you savor his sensitive features. even though you've known toji since you were in your early twenties, you've always thought he was gorgeous, but time has been kind to him. as excellent wine ages, so was he. hell, he probably tasted as delicious as he appeared—

toji starts, somewhat unexpectedly, “y'know, for what it's worth, i think you're an amazing woman." he fumbles with the silver chain dangling from his chest before saying, “you’re pretty, you're smart, and you make a mean pho.”

pretty. he called you pretty.

toji’s solemn face prompts you to hastily cover your smile as he adds, “you didn't deserve to be treated that way- and i hope you know that.” you could feel a hand gently caressing your arm. his calluses brushed against your skin as he held it in a warm, rough manner. the gesture almost made you want to pant like a bitch in the heat, even if you had no idea why or how.

he murmurs, “i don't ever wanna' see you cry like that again,” as his dark irises finally contact yours and you two exchange a soft look. unknown to you at the time, something was causing you to approach a little bit more closely than you had intended. you long for a kiss as your gaze moves from his lips to his eyes and back again.

as you prepare to make what would likely be one of your biggest mistakes yet, you close your eyes. you decrease the distance between you two to just a few inches by placing your lips on his. toji ought to have pushed you away at the first moment, but he was driven to submit. the way your mouth felt against his was just so effortlessly natural.

perhaps the novelty of being alone or the warmth of his body against yours is responsible for you feeling this way right now, but all you want is to continue feeling him like this forever.

toji grabs the nape of your neck while you moan into the kiss, luring you in. you take the initiative to straddle his lap as you start to feel a pool between your thighs, your covered pussy pressing on his crotch as you exchanged saliva.

to your surprise, toji pulls away when you ask for more by licking his bottom lip. even before returning to reality, you managed to feel the remorse beginning to rise in your stomach.

“m’ sorry. i don’t- i don’t know what i was thinking,” you mumble, quickly climbing off of his lap and back into your previous position. “i’m sorry. fuck- i’m sorry. i shouldn’t- we shouldn’t-“ you go on, but all that came out of your apology was a weak, anxious whine. toji simply sits there, likely attempting to process what just happened.

you were scared, but you were also humiliated. toji was not only your father's closest friend, but also his business partner. this could endanger his friendships, family, and profession.

you can't bring yourself to say anything else. you start to gather your things and get ready to go to the door, but just as you stand up, a hand delicately grabs hold of your wrist.

“you want me?”

yes.

“toji- i didn’t mean to-“

“yes or no?”

as you swallow, your chest rises and falls from the kiss's delirium. toji manspreads while keeping his hands on his lap and waiting for your response, tapping his foot on floor. he did have an issue with staring. his eyes gave off the impression that they would cut straight through you.

you say, "y-yes," but it sounds more like a moan. when toji hears this, he gets up from his chair and approaches you slowly. his hands were in the pockets of his gray sweats, and he had a smirk on his face. he continues moving until he is directly in front of you, his shirt showing his hardened nipples.

“say it with your chest, yn. did you not just kiss me? or was i imagining things?”

his taunting tone of voice not only annoyed you, but it turned you on too. he tilts his head to the side and looks you up and down, eyes following your curves, “toji, i want you.”

that was all he needed until it was his turn to attack your mouth with pecks. pecks turned into drawn out kisses and those eventually escalated to biting and sucking on one another’s lips. your noses chafed together as toji groans into your mouth. while your tongues danced to the rhythm of desire, toji’s hand came between your pants and the waistband of your pink panties. he shoves his palm inside the lousy fabric to cup your cunt in his hand.

he flicks his middle finger at your folds as you whimper, "want more, please." he can feel your lust on the tip of his knuckle. “i need you,” your nails skim the happy trail under his shirt, causing toji to grunt. the poor guy had no idea how much power you had over him.

“are you gonna’ regret it?” you ask, and yes, it was blunt of you, but you wondered if he was truly aware of the consequences of this action. you had to think of it from his perspective too.

toji was currently obtaining a happy life. he lived a peaceful existence with just him and his son and had a profession that was more than well compensated, but you? you were a grown woman—twenty eight, to be precise—and although you may have acted impulsively, it may have been just what you wanted. but want eventually turns to greed, and you’d hate to do damage to his conscious over your behavior.

“why would i regret you?”

you wanted to spend the evening lusting over his wonderful words— hearing him tell you the sweetest things, but no matter how sincere and charming his question was, your thoughts were elsewhere.

toji and you each had the ability to choose your own paths. everything you've done up to this point has been deemed inappropriate, and even if he were to stuff you full of his cock, it wouldn't matter. this was already out of line as is.

you make the decision to take matters into your own hands and carry on the passionate makeout session by encircling his neck with your arms. you can feel toji's hands pinching your ass cheeks as he begins to cup them to enfold you in his arms. he sits down on the sofa with you still in his grasp, allowing you to straddle his lap as before.

the hard cock sitting pretty in his sweats did nothing but rub up against you. as much as you wanted to take it slow, you couldn’t suppress the urge to let him have his way with you.

“‘ima fuck you so good, princess. so much better than he ever has,” he utters. you lift your hips up to give him room to finally take his aching cock out of his sweats. while doing so, he doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you.

"look at what you do to me, love," to put it mildly, you were in wonder as he grabbed hold of your chin and lowered your head between you both. first the middle, then the base was displayed. the thin pubic hairs that were still attached to his skin were somewhat cut, lying flat against his shaft as the tip of him flashed a brilliant pink.

as his cock stood up, toji flexed his lower abdomen to move it a little. each time he did this, his cock tapped against your belly, creating a pat.

“big huh? it’ll fit, don’t worry,” he ends his sentence with a wink and grasps on to your ass cheeks again, this time, parting them slowly. as you lift up, his cock aligns with your hole, leaking and eager for some attention.

“please be careful. it’s been a while,” you mumble. you turn to look away but he only comforts you, “i will. i promise.”

as toji entered you, your pussy revealed how horny you truly were. your sopping cunt slobbered around him inch by inch, little by little. your juices had covered his cock and made it easier for your walls to expand, adjusting to his size.

the burn causes your mouth to hiss. feeling him wriggle his way in like this made you feel like a virgin all over again. he had the kind of dick you had to mentally prepare yourself for; the kind that, after only two or more minutes, would have you crying and trembling in his hands.

“focus, yn. just focus on us, for right now.” he didn’t have to tell you twice. how could you not focus on just this? toji had your head spinning and your insides bubbling like never before. it’d be hard to think of anything or anyone else other than him, “you’re so deep- shit!” mushing your ass in his hands, he lifts you up and down his cock, making you feel each and every bit of him. toji bites back a moan when you start to become more comfortable— hips moving with his and your ass melting in his palms.

arms incoherently wrap around toji’s neck as he digs deep, moaning into your ear, “you don’t understand how good you feel. can i go faster? wanna’ make you cum all over my lap like the good girl i know you are.” you practically scream yes and immediately after, you hear a clapping sound.

your ass slamming against toji’s thighs was the cause of the ruckus, you realize as you turn to face the source of the noise. as you watch toji’s cock slip in and out of your pussy, he raises his head to stare at the side of your face, getting excited at how hard you clenched down in him as you watched him fuck you vigorously.

“look at how good you’re doing. takin’ that dick like it’s yours. you look so pretty like this.”

his encouraging words appeared to have given you self-assurance. using both of your forces to fill yourself, you start to slam down on him. you felt as though you were handling a lot at once, but you hardly cared enough to flee. god, did it feel wonderful to be taking dick like a pro.

“ooo- it's stretching me, toji! feels so fuckin’ good. i love it so much.” one thing toji picked up from this was how much of a screamer you were. every thrust ended with another high-pitched moan grumbling from your chest.

“you’re a loud lil’ thing, aren’t you? hope the neighbors don’t mind too much, but they’ll understand, right? i’m fuckin’ you so well they’ll have no choice but to understand.”

it was so easy for him to utter such derogatory phrases knowing the conditions his life would be in after— but he felt like he was compelled to. he loved the sensation of listening to your pussy becoming wetter with each passing stroke. incredibly responsive— his favorite.

his thoughts began to flow as a result of your hands grabbing at his shoulders. you were so desperate that you were delighted to accept whatever he was putting down, “i can’t believe mr. ln’s daughter is such a dirty little bitch. how do you think he’d feel knowin’ i’m ruining you like this, hm?”

that was when you came. something about the secrecy just made you all the more ablazed. although this might’ve been just a temporary feeling, you clamored for more— hollering his name and the curses that trailed behind it.

“m’ cumming! m’ cumming- fuck me, toji!”

he laughs, “how good is it, slut? tell me, how’s it feel?”

you could barely produce a single sound. you could only hold your mouth ajar and let out broken whines. your body was drowning in a sheen coat of sweat and your pussy was a bit sore, but you wanted to cum again.

“it feels a-amazingh,” you babble, unable to even utter the pronunciation of your words as he continues to poke at your g-spot. he was fucking you through it, talking you through it, and pulling you right into his grasp to swallow your whines with his mouth.

after he wrung out the last of your juices, he quickly lifts you up and places you on your back. he could now see just how pretty your pussy truly was. two plumped folds sitting on either side of a puffy clit that was in need of some sucking and a cute hole that ached for good dick.

a dream. a dream indeed.

toji wasted no time slipping it in, feeling your walls comfort his cock like a warm hug. every stroke was tender, but he was so slutty. the chain dangling from his neck beamed in your face and out of instinct, you tug on it a little to pull him down. taking a second to indulge in his features. he was so fucking sexy, especially like this— jet black hair sticking to his forehead, muscle tee drenched in sweat, and his small, hidden whines slipping in every now and then. you couldn’t believe you hadn’t done this sooner.

“i-i love this. love your dick so much- makes m-me feel so happy, toji.” now it was your turn to make your words dig deep, bringing him to the checkpoint with just a few praises.

“don’t say shit like that- fuck.”

you bring your hands to his face to cup his cheeks. you gently press your forehead against his and continue whispering sweet nothings against his lips.

“i can’t believe you’re fucking me like this— like you’ve wanted me for so long. you must love this pussy, huh? love when i take you like this?”

you take note of his sudden shudder, his strokes slowly becoming harder as his breath hitches near your ear, “yn, you better fuckin’ stop.”

“i can’t help it, toji. you just fuck me so much better,” you gasp and reached your arms around his neck, burying your head in his neck. you clench around him, and toji nearly loses it. the knot was finally beginning to unravel, his stomach was fluttering, and he was a bit tired, but he was so close— and you were too, again.

“where do you want me, sweet girl? i’m gonna’ to cum,” he asks, and you answer with a stream of yeses and ‘inside inside’. on command, you feel the wave of toji’s cum filling you full. your pussy wet him up with yet another orgasm and you practically collapse.

toji continues to fuck you through your climax, as well as his own. he was being nothing but dirty, yet a hint of weet. whispering things like ‘good girl’ and ‘i’m so proud of you’ over and over. your head was empty and so was your energy scale. you wanted nothing more than a nice soak in a warm bath to attend to your sore figure.

toji pulls out of you, leaving a airy noise being him when he does. his dick was coated in white, and he was still hard as you were wet, but you were both far too exhausted to give it another go.

he sees some of his cum dripping from your pussy and scoops it onto his index finger. lifting that same hand to your mouth, your lips immediately part to taste the mess the two of you made, “revenge tastes sweet doesn’t it?” he asks as you suck on his fingers until completely clean, letting out a moan while doing so.

as he stands to his full height, he stares down at your limp limbs and shakes his head in disbelief, “i didn’t kill ya’ did i?” he breathlessly laughs. you weakly smile and flip him off as he heads down the hall.

eventually toji returns, watching quietly as your lashes kiss your cheeks with exhaustion. still under a trance, he takes a towel he’d gotten from the bathroom to smooth your back and thighs, making sure to get between them as well. as he finishes, you could feel a delicate kiss being planted behind your ear.

his act as a caretaker drove you into a deep sleep, and he was left to reflect on what took place night. he might be jobless, and friendless in morning, but for right now, he’d rather fall asleep to the sound of your breaths as you lay your head on his chest— dreaming of the life you deserve.

©️ SATORUBI 2023 please do not copy, repost as your own, or translate any of my work without my knowledge <33

[almostwisegalaxy]

Yandere boy?

Cha hyun su x reader

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..................................................................................

"Myong-oh............ Myong-oh "

She had been walking for three days in search of the person she loved so much. In the tall grass, she moved as fast as she could, but as carefully as she could.

"Myong-oh... Where are you? ............. "

"Where did you take my child .....?" She said crying.

Y/n was desperate. Her husband had left after an argument they'd had. She didn't know until it was too late that he had taken their 2-year-old son. As the sun was setting, she walked through the streets with a flashlight. In the distance she saw a man with a child. She walked toward the silhouette, hoping it was her little family.

"Myong-oh, Myong-oh wait".

But of course it wasn't them. It was a boy with a little girl.

"Oh... I'm sorry, I thought you were someone else," she said with tears in her eyes.

Hyun Su was curious what a girl like her was doing in such a place at night, but he didn't stay too long. He started again when Ah-yi stopped him.

"Baby, baby," she says, pointing to her belly. She pulls Hyun Su's arm even harder to get his attention.

"Baby, baby"

That's when he finally noticed the girl's big belly that made it so hard for her to move. She holds on to a piece of wood to walk. She shakes and faints, but Hyun Su catches her just before she crashes into his belly. He and Ah-yi take her back to the boats.

3 days later

Y/n pov

Rays of sunlight awaken me from my restless sleep. I open my eyes and realize that I'm not in my cabin, but in a boat cabin. I sit up and look around to see a child drawing on the floor. I try to greet her, but she runs off to who knows where. Well, I think it would be better to go out and see where I am.

A young man stopped me.

"No, don't get up, you're still weak, you need to eat something first.

After you woke up, Hyun Su had convinced you to stay with them on the boat. It's been 3 months now. You were reluctant at first, insisting that you had to find your husband and son.

He kept telling you that he was probably already dead, killed by a monster, which is true and he knows it. But you refuse to listen to reason, because Myong-oh is waiting for you.

He is waiting for you.

Hyun Su's POV

Why won't she give up this stupid idea? Her "family" is dead. She's so stubborn. I don't want her to go. Her presence brings joy to Ah-yi and she opens up a little more every day. I can see that the reason she hasn't left yet is because of the little one. She's taken to her as if she were her own daughter. Every time y/n tries to leave, we get in the way and Ah-yi cries and squeezes her leg. I want her to like me too, not to run away when I'm around.

Now that Yi-kyeong has taken over, it's just the two of us on the boat. We fight all the time, I even had to chain her up in our room.

I.... It's not what I wanted, but I can't let her go. I don't know what to do to make her stay.

(Do you love her?) Yes .... Enormously

(Do you want her to stay?) Yes

(Would you use any means necessary?) ..... Yes

Hyun Su's eyes turned blue in a second. From the moment her monster took possession of her body, Y/n no longer had the choice of whether or not to stay.

[maopll]

Hello, hello!

May I request Zhongli, Kaeya, Ayato and Al-Haitham with an s/o that likes to draw them? A LOT. Like, s/o has sketchbooks filled with sketches and drawings of them.

Thank you very much!

My muse I genshin impact !

pt 2 here !

⌗:, where you draw your lover in a secret sketchbook only for it to be revealed....

⌗:, a/n: thanks for the request anon ! it was a creative request actually.I was giggling while writing it. I'm sorry if your request took too long :(

⌗:, warning: mentions of petnames,..love, darling..., mention of Morax,,

,,what can you do when you are an artist and your lover is an absolute delight to your eyes of an artist? just like anyone else you admire his features by sketching portraits of his face, of his body, of his lips. but you are always quick to shut your sketchbook whenever he is near. if he sees it...you would die out of embarrassment....

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

KAEYA

our cavalry captain here is so beautiful you drool whenever you remember his face. if there was any person who had a perfect face it would be him and him only.

you have a shelf that has many leather books and drawing sheets but you never told him what they have. ofcouse he respects your privacy so he never asked but while you were out on some business he was in your bedroom when some books were fallen on the ground. while he was picking it up he came across your pieces of him.

curves drawn perfectly, blemishes that he never knew he has yet your eye captured those. you drew him so well that he found his breath caught in his throat. he stored the little picture you made for him but you never noticed it.

The next day when you visited his office you saw the very portrait of kaeya with a calla lily which you drew on his table. "Where did you find this from kaeya !?". you had such a deep blush on your face which made kaeya burst into a laughter.

No matter how much you insist the portrait will be with him forever now and you will not be able to take it from him.

ZHONGLI

he has a statue of himself in many places. through centuries and millenias devotees carved him from high quality jades, golds and precious stones alike.

No matter how famous or talented the craftsman was he when he was Morax, never found those statues to be made from pure devotion alone. Therefore he never expected for anyone to draw him with the love and devotion one might expect.

But you proved him wrong. He found many sketchbooks while cleaning your shared home which had only his portraits. some were romantic while some were a bit sensual nevertheless from just your drawings of him were enough to let him understand the extent of your love for him and your pure devotion. But there was a certain oil painting on a canvas that was only his portrait with his chin resting on the palm of his hand. it was so beautiful with precise strokes that he decided to hang it on the lounge wall.

After you returned from grocery shopping you were stunned to see the painting you stored away only for the one whom you didn't want to ever see it just saw it and decided to hang it on the wall.

"I must apologise for looking through your sketchbooks, love. But...I am indeed quite amazed to see your masterpieces. this one in particular caught my attention so I decided to hang it on the wall. After all..I need to show the guests how well you draw"

AYATO KAMISATO

Yashiro Commisioner Ayato Kamisato has had many portraits, full body sketches drawn ever since the day he was born. He was the son of the esteemed late commissioner and the former Head of a clan so many pieces were made by talented artists from around teyvat.

While he had seen you on many occasions drawing on a sketchbook with pen and or ink he never asked what you drew as you were quite...adamant to not exactly show him what you create. so seeing your behaviour he never asked but while signing through paperwork one late night he found your sketchbook lying. you must have forgotten it and although he told you he would never see it, curiosity got the better of him and he flipped through the pages.

His eyes widened as he saw the countless creations of yours which only centered your one and only muse, Ayato, your lover. He had literal heart on his eyes because all this time you were only drawing your beloved. He kept that book as a lucky charm.

The following day when you ssked him if he saw the leather book you always had he just held out the same while saying "oh? then you must be talking about this" you were bright red as you saw the familiar smirk he had on his face which was enough to tell you that he saw everything.

He chuckled a little and said "your creations are beautiful darling. allow me to express my gratitude, but can I ask you to let me keep this to myself as a token of your affection?"

ALHAITHAM

Alhaitham never really held a fascination towards performing arts but he knew of your admiration towards the same. Since he loved you he never showed any form of disgust towards arts and he never really had one. He just felt that it was not important.

While he would be working in his temporary Acting Grand Sage office you would sit in a nearby chair sometimes and sketch your way in the sketchbook which you always carry. Even kaveh said that your designs are absolutely fantastic but...how come he has seen what you drew but your actual lover never did?

He should admit that he was a bit jealous that his roommate had beat him to your secret sketchbook but he respected your privacy and never asked for it.

Inside your house while alhaitham was skimming through his library for a new physics book he came across your diary. He opened it a little only to find it filled with him and only him. He was taken aback by how you were actually really good at art but also a bit flustered how he was your inspiration.

Hiding the blush he went to talk to you. While you were quite embarrassed yourself and you apologised for drawing him without his consent, he only said that "there's no need for you to apologise love, rather I am glad that i could be a form of inspiration for you and..I hope you will continue to draw me like how you do..". he managed to tell you that all while fighting a blush that spread across his cheeks.

[ryuichirou]

Replies

A couple of replies today!

Anonymous asked:

Edmundedmundedmundedmundedmundedmundnebulacollegeedmund YESSS I have been fed content and I'm so motherfucking happy

The boy looks wonderful in both bunny suits ❤️

Hehehe thank you so much!! I love love love drawing boys in bunny suits, so I am very happy for the opportunity to draw Edmund wearing it…both options~

Anonymous asked:

If Jack and Ortho sees Vil in that outfit, I'm sure they find it attractive.

Of course they will, everyone would~ not only these two.

(related to the latest event)

But I would love to see their reaction to Vil in that outfit as well… I feel like Jack would get visibly flustered, but wouldn’t look away even for a moment.

Ortho would take pictures and record Vil just so he always has the image of Vil looking so good in his head lol

Anonymous asked:

Ok, but those Crewel/Deuce comics, fulfilling another fantasy of mine 😩👌

Actually, the funniest thing is that I've always imagined that those two would have a secret relationship and only would start "officially" dating when Deuce graduated nrc. Like on the weekends, Deuce would tell people that he's going to visit his mom or a cousin, but in reality, he's going to Crewel's place for "extra credit."

Funny scenario: 19/20 y/o Deuce posting on Magicam that he's in a relationship with Divus and all his notifs are from his friends blasting "ayo? 🤨" Then he gets a text from his mom like "DeeDee, you know I will support you in everything and anything but don't make the same mistakes as I did when I was younger, this is how you were born 😔"

(related to this comic; sorry for the late reply!)

Thank you, Anon, I am happy you liked the comic!

Out of all the first years, Deuce does feel like the type to officially go out with a teacher after graduating lol I can’t explain it, but it feels right in a weird way. I wonder if any of the first years would suspect that Deuce isn’t really visiting his mom or a cousin whenever he leaves to spend time with Crewel…

Also! His poor mother, this boy just keeps making her worry lol At least Deuce isn’t going to get pregnant, so that should be a relief…

blackbutlerfandomnerddomain asked:

If we had a battle of crossovers, who would win: GreenViolet or LilIdia

Hmm, how are they fighting? Is this a fist fight? Then Lilidia, because Lilia would outsmart Greenhill, and Violet and Idia both are wimps who can’t fight lol

In terms of a relationship… it’s a bit difficult to compare them because both couples are kind of confused within themselves. Greenhill is a bit oblivious about Violet’s feelings, and Lilidia are both confused about them being online friends lol so now I imagine these four looking at each other confused because they don’t know why are they even here and what is going on.

If both ships are established relationships though, it would be a tough fight, because Greenhill and Lilia are both competitive.

GreenViolet could win because Greenhill knows Violet better than Lilia knows Idia. And Lilidia could win because Lilia is a war veteran who would get super excited about winning and then teasing Idia about them being the best couple ever…

Anonymous asked:

All You Wanna Do by Samantha Pauly, the live Broadway version reminds me of Alois. Especially the last two minutes…

Wow, listening to this while thinking about Alois was quite a journey! 😬 It really does fit him in a lot of ways, and the last two minutes are especially heartbreaking. Ghhh I love Alois’ story so much.

Thank you for sharing, Anon.

Anonymous asked:

The last ask regarding the Leech parents and their reputation if both of their sons started dating. Out of all the characters you ship them with, which one would make the best impression? My first thought was 🥁 Riddle 🥁

If Floyd would ever settle down (which is hard to imagine with his unpredictable personality), it would definitely be with Riddle. I also think Riddle would make a great son-in-law. Even though Riddle would be very nervous meeting The Leech parents. Riddle Leech has a nice ring to it. Maybe Floyd would take Riddle underwater  to live in the coral sea. Goldfish Riddle confirmed??

But then again, I wonder how Mrs. Rosehearts would feel if her son decided to marry the son of a "Yakuza" boss. Mrs. Rosehearts and Mrs. Leech meeting each other?! 👀

(this is related to this reply)

Sorry for the late reply, Anon! Your ask got me thinking as well, as you can see lol

The Leech parents would absolutely love Riddle! Both because he is hilarious (so uptight, I mean, upstanding!) and because he is genuinely a surprisingly good pick. Just like you said, he is so polite, so well-educated, at times it almost feels too good to be true, how come Floyd of all people brought home such a good boy? They always expected Jade to be the one…  They’ll absolutely let the boys know about it lol embarrassing all of them.

Riddle would be super nervous and a bit scared, but parents are parents, even if they are scary fish mafia parents. So he has to be respectful and polite. Which is honestly only going to amuse Mama and Papa more – Riddle is so tiny and cute with his baby face and tiny hands and stuff, but oh so serious. He’s like a baby doll… they would woobify him a lot lol and tease him in general, but always try to be stealthy about it. Maybe they just don’t want to scare him away because there is no way Floyd finds someone else similar to Riddle lol

Also! Riddle being a goldfish merman is such a fun theme, I love it when people draw him like that. Floyd really should turn him into a merman, poor Riddle is going to be so confused. He is reversed Ariel lol

Oh Mrs Rosehearts is going to hate this so much… Leaving her alone with Mrs Leech is such a bad idea, because Mama Leech is going to play along at first, complaining about how having sons is such a huge source of stress, how rude and ungrateful they are sometimes, and just how much she wants them to just be good and proper at everything that they do. Mama Rosehearts could even think that they are on the same page at first (even though this Leech woman is way too dramatic…)… Mama Leech would just troll her the entire time, just as she does with everyone she talks to… but she’ll like her a lot, she’ll consider her a good friend afterwards <3 and call her every day.

Another potential partner that the Leech parents would love is Idia, and we have some thoughts about them, but I’ll share them a bit later – there is another ask related to this topic that I’ll try to write a proper reply tomorrow. So consider this a teaser and thank you for your patience 👀

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Dead Of Night (Rules, Part 2.)

Description: Coming back home was a doozie - it felt like starting anew. Meeting your dad's new best friend, however, turned your life upside down - and it was the two of you who had to set the record straight and figure out how to move on.

Part Summary: The night in the company of two Texan gentlemen is going well - Joel and Tommy are ensuring you're having a blast. Joel even goes up and beyond in this regard. It was too good to be true... Until it fucking wasn't.

Warnings: dad's best friend daddy joel (i don't think there's more to say to that) | age gaps all around, baby - joel being approximately 33 (reader being 8 years his junior), putting sarah around 13 years of age and sam at 18, reader's parents in late forties/early fifties | alcohol consumption | smoking (implied and active) | BILLIARD SHENANIGANS WITH THE MILLER BROTHERS™️ | NSFW activities - oral (f!receiving), sex at the bathroom stalls, inappropriate thoughts | i guess potential sub-con (we are drunk but very consensual) | we love a consensual king joel miller

A/N: The 'I like this song' is Orville's Peck Dead Of Night (name inspo, yay) - yanow, when it's late a party, they play slow and sappy songs to calm people before going down and to let all the lovey-dovey couples suck soul outta each other. And I love that.

Tagging: My sweetest, one and only @missdictatorme.

Word count: 10.1K - I cannot express how sorry I am for the length, but I had too much fun with this and didn't wanna pull out a two-parter with nothing exciting in it. I divided it into sections the best I could for easier reading.

Masterlist: H E R E | Playlist: H E R E

Leaving Joel and his compadre outside, you decided to spend some time playing pool - the elderly gentlemen occupying it were kind enough to let you play a few games. It was fun watching Anne getting tipsy, balancing on her tiptoes as she leaned her entire upper body onto the table, her tongue sticking out of her mouth due to concentration. You've won most of the games (mainly because neither of you knew the billiard or pool or whatever you've been playing), but Anne insisted on calling it a draw. Cheeky little pup, that's what she was. Just as you prepared the cues for the guys who'd landed them for you, a familiar Texan drawl could be heard behind you.

"Howdy, gentlemen." - The nameless guy greeted, nodding at the guys waiting for their pool table to be free. The elderly gentlemen nodded at the newcomers. - "Would y'all mind us havin' a few quick games with the ladies? We'll let you be after, promise. " "'s yours, son. Take ya time." "Yessir." - The guy thanked, walking over to Anne and pointing at the cue. - "May I? You're doin' it wrong, sugar." "'M not. But if you think you're more experienced..." "Been playin' pool with that rascal over there since we were tweens. Trust me on this one." - With that, he carefully tore the cue out of Anne's palm, seizing the cue chalk as well.

"Don't mind him, he's a show-off." - When his husky, melodic voice hit your ears, it almost gave you a heart attack - you were so preoccupied with watching Anne giving the guy a stare of death that you forgot Joel might be around too. You definitely didn't expect him to sneak up on you like that. "'s my technique bad, too?" "Worst I've seen." - He muttered, snickering. - "There's no technique to chalk a cue properly, don't worry. He's just makin' stuff up to be interestin'." - Joel explained, making you snicker too. You've handed him the cue nonetheless, making him put his beer down - he'd been skilled with it, you noticed; the two must've been playing since they were tweens, just as the other guy said.

Soon, you became too preoccupied with Joel's hands to care about some stupid pool - based on the callouses and small scars along his fingers and knuckles, he must've been used to working with his hands. Now that he'd folded the shirt's sleeves up to his elbows, you could see all the prominent veins and other scars, some of which were pretty deep. Without you trying to resist, your mind spiraled into imaginations of these palms taking handfuls of your ass, kneading it like bread. How would it feel to hold his hand? Would he let you entwine your fingers with his? How would it feel if he'd slap you - either teasingly or amidst all the heat and lust, say... Fucking you from the back? How would it feel when his palms would spread your thighs apart, his fingers sliding inside you? How would it... That's when you realized Joel was talking to you, watching you ogling at his forearms for a good minute. Your eyes jumped from his forearms to his face, looking at him dumbfoundedly - Joel scoffed upon seeing your expression.

"Huh?" "Was askin' 'bout your name, cutie, but don't take me wrong - wouldn't mind callin' you names." - Leaning closer, Joel gave you a warm smile. - "Have I interrupted somethin' in that head 'f yours, sweet girl?" - Oh God, he knew - he fucking knew. You were busted, flustered upon hearing his implication. Your brain blanked momentarily as you tried to come up with an answer. "Y/N." - You mumbled, mesmerized with the amused look in his eyes. - "Name's Y/N." "A beautiful name for a beautiful girl, I see."

"You two done with starin' into each other's eyes?" - The nameless guy called out, startling you - Joel remained as cool as a cucumber, his eyes following each move you made. Trying to wave it off, you walked to the table, leaning your palms into the side. "Yup. Bet our cue is chalked up way better than yours." - Cocky tone present in your voice made the nameless guy grin. Following up on the statement, you raised eyebrows in Joel's direction for support. The man didn't let you wait for too long. "Don't ya worry. I'll win it thanks to how you chalked it... And for you." - Joel added silently, brushing his palm on your lower back before he walked straight to the table - the first game was reserved for the two buddies to warm up. Even this quick, seemingly meaningless gesture had you shivering.

"You guys get to it. I'll go for a cig and get you some beer while you two clash it out." - Anne offered, grasping your hand in hers. Then she turned her head toward the elderly gentlemen. - "Y'all good? Want us to bring ya somethin'?" "We're good, sweetheart, thanks for askin'." "You asked them, but don't ask me?" - The nameless guy whined, looking at Anne with a well-portrayed offense. Joel snorted, carefully putting the pool balls into the triangle. "Cut it off, Miss Dramatic. Imma get you both a glass of Jack, 'f course. Do I look like a monster?"

"Thanks, Anne." - Both guys muttered in unison. Joel poked the balls first, having them scattered all over the table. Then he grabbed the chalk, furrowing while thinking about his next step. "You better win, Tommy, or I'm pouring your glass down my throat." - Oh, his name was Tommy. Joel's buddy Tommy. Noted. "And who's bein' dramatic, huh? Go now, you two." - Tommy waved in your direction, laughing while he tried to figure out the approach to his next poke.

After letting Anne have her smoke break, it was time to make your way to the bar. It wasn't easy - people were taking a break from dancing and started ordering their drinks. All the people smoking outside were coming back in, ordering new rounds of cocktails, shots, beers, and what have you. It took a moment, but you got four beers, two Jacks, and two shots of Chupito, carrying the alcohol back to the pool table. Anne started running her mouth again as you approached the pool tables. "You believe me now, or..?" "Believe you what?" "Believe me what I said about Joel? He's fuckin' smitten." "Joel being smitten? Are you deaf or just purposely ignore how Tommy talks to you? Who's smitten here?"

"Ah, I see. Too bad he ain't my type." - Anne sighed, looking at the duo debating over one of the balls' and its position. You had no idea what was wrong with it, but both looked hot debating. - "Suppose Tommy looks like a fun guy overall - nothin' for me, though... Ehhh... Maybe as a friend? That could work out. Anyway, stop deflectin', girl. You and Joel, that's the topic. I can sense the vibes are present, the chemistry is flowin', he can't take his eyes off you, calls you sweet pet names, watches you when you don't pay attention and grins to himself. To add to the evidence, he touched your back even though he had zero reason two, and don't think we missed how he snuck his palm up your waist and prolonged the greetin' for as long as he could... C'mon, I've seen you starin' at him. And he saw it too - and that old bastard was complimented by it." - Well, it was time to stop pretending, you assumed. You couldn't counter everything she just dropped on your ass - Anne and Tommy saw it all anyway.

"Fine, fine. Thing is... I've never felt like this about anyone. I feel like we've clicked right away, not a word needed to be said. Girl, that man's smoking hot - have you seen him? Heard him?" - You whined, watching Joel chalking the cue up again while watching Tommy prepare for his poke. - "It's just... Scary. Bizzare, yannow? This doesn't happen with strangers all the time. Why me? That's the main question. What does he see in me? Is he just pulling my sock? Would it be a hook-up, or would he want to see me again? What if he does this on the reg, just pulls random women in the club, fucks them and goes home?" "You think he wouldn't wanna see you again? That's what's bothering you?" - Anne stopped in her tracks, looking at you with disbelief. - "Even if! Live your life - drag him to the bathroom stalls, fuck the soul outta him, and make him remember this night forever, girl. But, to be fair... Takin' the way he stares at us right now into account, just to make sure we hadn't run away, tells me this guy will definitely wanna see you again. On top of that, the birds chirped that they hadn't seen Joel smitten like this in a long time either." "... Tommy told you that?" "Shush now. Just be hot and live your best life. Joel's fuckin' mesmerized and so are you." - She muttered as you approached the table. Cheerfully, she waved the glasses in her hand, earning applause from the duo. - "How's it goin', you two? Figured out who's the bigger alfa?"

"Kicked his sorry ass, as always." - Joel muttered, letting Tommy set the table for you, putting balls into the triangle, ensuring everything was set right. "You clearly cheated." - Tommy whined, accepting his beer and glass Jack from Anne, the other one landing right into Joel's palm. "Or maybe, you're just ass at pool?" - Anne chimed in, smiling sweetly right into Tommy's face - this earned an earnest chuckle from the gentlemen watching your matches unravel. Just like before, Tommy snickered in disbelief, turning right to Anne animatedly. Before you knew, the two were arguing again.

"She's not being too nice to Tommy. Sorry for that." "Don't worry 'bout him, pretty girl. He likes 'em spicy. 's good for him to let someone deflate his ego now and then." "Mhm, noted." - You and Joel were leaning into an empty table next to the pool, sipping on your beers, standing with aptly distance between you two. As you watched the two bickering (something regarding the balls' placement and Tommy's balls if you hadn't misheard), the question slipped past your lips on its own. Alcohol made you courageous, it always did. - "And what do you like, Texas?" "What?" - Joel asked, ensuring that you've truly dropped the question, that he wasn't imagining it or mishearing. By that point, he was scooping over to you, his shoulder nudging into yours, his other palm finding the small of your back again, nesting there, his fingers playing with the fabric of your shirt. "I asked, what is it that you like?" - His face was close enough for you to feel his breath on the apple of your cheek as you cocked your head to him, innocently taking a sip of beer. He was at a loss for words for a bit, licking his lips as he tried to come up with an answer.

Just as Joel leaned closer to your ear and rubbed his nose in your hair, the grip on your t-shirt growing stonger, Anne turned to you, swinging her palms around in disbelief.

"That can't be right! No! Tommy, I know you're fuckin' with me. Joel, please tell him he's... Oh... Oh, fuck, sorry." - The girl giggled, growing flustered as she realized she'd just ruined your moment. Trying to salvage the situation, Joel cleared his throat, put his beer down, and grabbed the cue. Cool as a cucumber, just like before - except the blush spreading on his cheeks. The blush made you snicker, it was cute. "Ready for another round?" "Betcha ass. Imma blow smoke all up your arse, Y/N!" "I don't think that's what you meant to say, Anne." "Whatever, I sounded Bri'sh 'enough, didn't I?" - She reiterated, snatching the cue right from Tommy's palm, pointing her finger at him. - "If you try to talk into how I'm playin' pool one time..." - Aaand... They were bickering again.

"I know shit about pool and billiard." - You confessed in a whisper, having Joel hum while chalking your cue. - "Won by pure luck each time." "For starters, we're playin' billiard, sweetheart. Want some assistance? I definitely know more than that moron." "... I deadass thought it's a pool table, on my honor. Help? Would be brilliant, thank you." - As you leaned to take the cue, Joel pushed it out of your reach, knitting his eyebrows together. He seemed confused. "Are you really British?" "I won't tell, cowboy. Better if I keep you guessing for a bit. Makes me look more mysterious." - This time, you victoriously grabbed the cue, walking towards the table to offer Anne a handshake of truce and a good sport. You've done it before each game - the elderly gentlemen liked your sportsmanship.

Anne was doing the shot-up - leaning her entire upper body into the table, pushing her tongue out as she assessed the balls with a furrow, tapping her foot to Toto's Hold the Line. The shot-up was good, she even managed to score one, taking the striped balls for herself. Clear balls it was, then. "Damn." - Tommy sighed, nodding to himself. - "Well played." "Don't underestimate my billiard abilities ever again. I'm already playing leagues better than you." "She ain't wrong." - Joel chimed in, leading you closer to the table. Just like he planned, this gave the duo another reason to bicker, ignoring whatever it was you two were doing.

"My goal is to put all the clears into pockets, no?" "Fast learner, I see." "As if..." - Leaning onto the table, you did your best to replicate the finger stance your father taught you. - "Pops used to be a billiard enthusiast when I was little - that was before he fucked up his back. Did his damnest to teach me all about it." "Yeah, can tell it's been a while back time since you last played. Only blind people wouldn't see how bad that finger position is. Keep your hand like that, and it's gonna cramp in no time. C'mere." - As if he'd done it a million before, Joel walked up next to you, leaning over your back - his chest was pressed to your torso, his arms copied yours, and his chin settled on your shoulder. Your heart fluttered so hard you were worried about it jumping out of your chest. You didn't hear a word from whatever Joel tried teaching you, but God bless him for attempting anyway. Completely tuned out, you just nodded along, enjoying how his felt body pressed this close to yours (hip to hip and shoulder to shoulder), fingers of his left palm ghosting over yours, the other caressing the small of your back. God, Joel smelled so good - wood, soil, hints of cologne mixed with his musk? Absolute fucking heaven.

"Can you do that for me?" - The guy asked, turning his head to you, boring his eyes into yours. He was so close, his nose just mere inches away from yours - if you'd lean just in slightly, you could kiss him. "Do what?" - You whispered in an answer, having him snicker - the vibration ran through your body like lightning, igniting the bundle of nerves between your legs. This was when you realized you were fucked, at Joel's mercy. Shuddering and trying to keep a serious face on, Joel brought your attention to the posture of your hand, sweeping his thumb over your upper hand. "Keep your hand like this, pretty girl. It'll work better than whatever you were tryin' to create before." - Leaning away from you to let you play, he squeezed your hip to wish you the best of luck.

The moment he did so, a quiet whimper left your mouth, the cue bumping into the white ball at full speed - letting you score your first pocket. You were absentmindedly staring in front of yourself, your heart jumping right to your throat. Joel heard the whimper. It was written all over his fucking grin. He was also smart enough to put two and two together. If you reacted like that, how would you react once he's balls deep inside you? How would your sweet voice sound whimpering, whining, begging, frantically whispering his name? Joel hoped you'd let him find out.

The rest of the games were uneventful - whenever you and Anne played, the two men were sure to talk your head off, teasing you and pointing out what you did wrong. Tommy and Anne stuck to their bickering, their mutual insults getting more playful and out-of-pocket with each shot they downed. Joel stuck with the physical approach, trying to make you understand what to do and when to do it... Which meant you learned absolute fucking shit, being too busy drooling over him. His palms grew more daring the more comfortable you seemed around him - he stopped drinking in the middle of the third billiard match, saying 'He's had 'nough for the night' - Tommy immediately rebutting 'You sure that's the reason?'. Once, you'd swear his palm patted your ass before you poked, making you hit the black ball into the pocket, letting you win the game. 'Thank me later, cutie', Joel murmured into your ear with a wicked grin.

Whenever the guys were on, seven people commented on their match simultaneously - you, Anne, and the five pops watching you play. Whoever they were, you like these old geezers - they were fun to be around. To avenge you, each of the elderly ensured Tommy and Joel wouldn't come out of the match unscathed. Drunk and satisfied, you left the pool table around eleven, shaking hands with the elderly folk who kept you company most of the night. Everyone except Joel was pissed by the time you rolled around the bar, ordering a shot of vodka each. Hell, you've been mixing so much you were sure you'd end up sleeping through the next day. However, it was easy to get pissed in such good company - Tommy kept on coming up with various jokes (hit-or-miss situation there, really), having Anna cackle at each of them (she was blackout drunk, you were pretty sure).

Joel, while not saying much, hadn't moved away from you since you left the pool table - whatever you did, whoever you talked to, the man was behind you. His eyes observed every gesture and expression with a warm gaze, smiling warmly... But not creepily. It was flattering, having the biggest stunner inside the club watching over you. Made you feel special. Regarding what Tommy said earlier (that Joel hadn't been this smitten with anyone in a long time), he wasn't lying - didn't happen since Joel's late wife Angela, actually. Frankly, he was just as in the dark as you were. It wasn't easy to name what had gotten into him, but all he knew was that you're the fire, and he's the moth. Each time you moved, the magnet within you made him follow. Each word was a syren's call, each look a glance into a paradise. Chemistry was the main reason why you two got along this well, that much Joel realized - however, the longer you'd been around, the more captivated he was becoming. Everything about you made him lose his mind; your mixed accents, tapping of your boot into the rhythm, shaky breaths escaping your mouth whenever his fingers ghosted over any part of your body. Each detail, even the easily missable, got him fascinated. You had him mesmerized, took his breath away, had his head in a chokehold. Just as you were at his mercy, he was at yours.

Anne and Joel stuck to the bar when you finally took the dancefloor by storm - whatever you and Tommy were up to, it didn't bore any similarity to actual dancing. It was nice, seeing you laugh so hard, tiptoeing on Tommy's shoes while he clumsily turned around, holding your frame impossibly close to his body. He wasn't trying to pull you or seduce you - it was just hard to dance for two people. "Yannow..." - Anne mumbled from her drink, still watching as you danced. It was almost midnight - the club was closing soon, so most of the fast, heavy-hitting pop got switched for slower country songs. Songs for heavily intoxicated couples. - "I don't think I've seen her actin' like this 'round anyone. And I've known her for 20 years by this point." "Tommy can be a real charmer when he wants to, you're right." - Joel admitted silently, sipping on his lemonade - the same lemonade you made fun of just five minutes earlier. Instead of a response, Anne snickered and shook her head lightly. "Ain't talkin' 'bout Tommy, and we both know that... Drop the fuckin' act." - The girl muttered, losing her balance for a bit - Joel was there to catch her, carefully helping her back onto the stool. He didn't answer, just hummed for Anne to continue.

"Promise you'll be nice to her. Whether it's for tonight or longer, just... Be nice to her. And if you won't be..." "Lemme guess, kiddo - you'll find me and cut my dick off, won't ya?" - Joel grinned, watching Anne teasingly. She smiled, shaking her head again; she liked Joel's sense of humor and demeanor - he seemed like a solid, trustworthy guy. Albeit selfish, but reliable enough to keep his word. "Somethin' like that but ten times worse. You don't wanna cross Anne Marie Jones." "Yes, ma'am." - Joel nodded, tipping his imaginary hat off while bowing a bit. - "I'll go for a dance. Wanna join?" - She nodded in agreement, reaching for Joel's hand in hopes not to slip and fall flat on her face.

"Almost five hours. 's a good score." "Of what? Five hours of..." "You pretendin' that you don't wanna dance." "Were you countin' this whole time? Strong-minded's what you are, my compliments." "Stop and go get her, tiger. Thomas!" - She shrieked, waving at Joel's younger brother, her face filled with excitement. The said younger brother carefully helped you step off his shoes, thanking you for the dances, even bowing just to amuse you. You needed a break - your tummy hurt from laughter, and you were sweaty and thirsty.

"'s my time to be on the bench, huh?" - You asked as Joel stepped closer to you, putting his hand on your waist. When his other hand joined, your eyes frantically searched for an explanation - the only thing you saw, however, was the warmth of his gaze. - "Thought you don't do dancin'." "Haven't done it in a fairly long time. 's time to switch things up." "You changin' the rules for once?" "Hmhm." - Joel could feel your fingers creeping on his arms - his exposed forearms, up to his shoulders before finally entwining behind his neck. Your nails gently scratched his skin, lightly enough not to leave marks, but intensely enough to leave a trail of tingling sensation behind - each inch of his skin you touched started burning, and his dick started growing hard and pleasantly warm in his pants. - "It's worth breakin' the rules when someone's worth it." "Am I worth it?" "Without a doubt in my mind."

No matter how drunk you were, your mind screamed that something was wrong there, that you should leave Joel at the dancefloor, call for a cab, and never look back - this man was a stunner in his best years, not old enough to have back pains and crackly knees but not young enough to be hot-blooded and wanting to fuck for the fun of it. You've seen the hot-blooded type in London a million times, and Joel was different. His demeanor, compared to theirs, was calm and collected. This man wasn't forcing you into anything that hadn't crossed your mind already - his kind smile and gentle touches made you relaxed, letting you realize how desperate you wanted this. How desperately you wanted him. The question still hadn't been answered - why you? Why not any of the beautiful women in the club? Women his age? There were a lot of them, one prettier than the other. Why was it you who had been blessed with the attention of this Adonis with gentle yet assuring touch, with tender, lazy (and also hot as fuck) smile, and watchful gaze?

"I'm a horrible dancer." - You weren't willing to disrupt the intimacy by asking questions - the answers haunted you more than the question itself. Licking your lips, you stepped closer, securing your arms around his neck. "Doesn't seem to me." "Have you seen how I danced with Tommy? Kicked his shin like twenty times." "'s what he deserves, wouldn't worry about it too much." "Doesn't solve the problem at hand." "I have a solution." - Joel mumbled, halting his moves. You were looking at him with an amused furrow, trying to figure out what he was up to - it didn't work, but at least you could carelessly stare at him, memorize each muscle of his face in case you'd never see him again. "Go to town, cowboy. Tell me."

It wasn't a matter of describing. Instead, Joel pushed a few strands of hair off your forehead and face, his eyes taking each detail in. Even though he had thick fingers, callused hands, and big hands, his touches were feather-light - if he hadn't been holding his other arm around your waist, you'd suspect he wasn't even real. All the couples around were still moving at a lazy, slow pace, cuddling as the slow song progressed, but your world froze for a bit. To let Joel know you trust him and want this, your palms started repeating the movements of his fingers - slowly dragging along his jaw, down his neck, to his chin, cupping the apple of his cheek, thumb dragging along the sweet spot under his eyes, putting his damp curls away from his forehead. "Still wanna lemme show you?" "Stop talking and thinking about it too hard, Joel." - Joel felt your weight shifting as you tiptoed, your breasts clashing with his chest as you pressed your body onto his - one of your elbows leaned into his shoulder, your fingers entangling in the hair at the back of his head.

You've been the one to kiss him - one palm grabbing his shirt, pulling him closer; the other still entangled in his hair pulling him away, giving the kiss the right edge. A mix of desperation, desire, and unsaid worries. While your lips mashed, his hands got to exploring - your shoulders, shoulder blades, your back, the small of it, and then, finally, that sweet, sweet fuckin' ass in the tightest piece of clothing he'd seen. He'd swear you're vibrating under his touch, lust getting the better of you - the kiss got rougher, teeth clashing, tongues entwining, lip biting, whining, and quiet moans escaping without either of you wanting them to...

It wasn't clean, but it definitely was the hottest fucking shit and the best kiss Joel had in the last few years. "How does... What does it have to with dancin'?" - You whispered into his ear after you pulled away, nesting your chin on his shoulder, clinging onto him as if he'd disappear if you'd let him go. Slowly, you started moving in the rhythm again, a pleasant male voice singing some kind of country ballad. It was lovely. "Nothin', little lady. Just a poor excuse to do what I've been waitin' for the whole night, 's all." "You damn rascal." "That a bad thing?" "I'm fond of men who make me laugh." - Your playful tone made Joel chuckle, the vibrations carrying onto your body. He gently pulled you closer, kissing your neck while humming at your smell - he'd remembered the scent of your perfume and shampoo, and it was nice, but mixed with alcohol, Tommy and Anne's cigarette smoke, and your musk was even better. You've smelled like a good night, like a lot of laughter, sinfully beautiful.

"Think it hadn't helped yet... The method 'f yours." "Strange, helps me every damn time." - Joel played along, letting you drop back to your heels just so he could look you in the eyes. Even though the club was humid, hot as all hell and the air smelled of alcohol, cigarette and weed smoke, sweat, and too many perfumes mixed into one, Joel missed the warmth and softness of your body the moment when your heels touched the ground, putting a few inches between your bodies. "Didn't sell me on it, anyway." "My apologies, ma'am. Anythin' I can do to remedy the situation?" "Think you should try it again." - You've had him mesmerized when you ogled at him like that - your expression and gaze were innocent, but your actions hinted at everything you've had on your mind. Your gentle hands slipping into the back pockets of his jeans solidified what you've alluded to and erased every doubt he had had in his mind.

"What if it won't work?" - Joel hummed, already pulling you back into his arms - his head was cocked to his shoulder, a wicked grin gracing his face. The man knew what question he was asking, his confidence boosting yours. "Think I have a thing or two on my mind, Texas." "Oh?" - He whispered, stealing a peck from you. - "Wanna share?" "'s better to show it to you." "Go on, little lady." "... Somewhere private." - You specified, losing focus for a bit. Something had caught your attention, making you smile as you started moving in the rhythm. - "I like this song. Give your method one more try, and then we can test mine?" "Your wish is my command."

Over the last few years, Joel forgot how fun it is to dance with someone - how exciting it feels when you twirl your girl around, to see her crack a smile as she comes back to his arms, kissing her like there was no tomorrow. He hadn't danced with anyone since Angela passed - thirteen fucking years. You, however, were a great choice of partner to break the streak of sitting at the bar, watching other couples snuggle and giggle, unaware of anything beyond their small little bubble. Neither of you were good dancers, per se, but that made it much more enjoyable. Joel was in his small bubble now, devoting his focus to you. Only you. Feeling you sway in the rhythm, clumsily stepping on the tips of his boots while holding to his shirt for your dear life, was the most endearing thing that happened to him recently. Even if you wouldn't meet again, he'd be grateful for this one night you've given him.

By the time the last chords of the song played (honkey-tonk banjo strumming), you'd been just like every other couple on the dancefloor - hastily stealing kisses, pressing your bodies impossibly close, tugging each other's hair, moaning and whining under your breath. You wouldn't expect this gruff cowboy man Joel to be vocal at all, but his groans actually made everything ten times better. "... Tell me it didn't work." - He muttered, roughly kneading your buttcheeks with his fingers, pressing your pelvis on his - you could feel the outline of his dick perfectly, your mouth watering. "Not in the slightest. I'm still a horrible dancer." "Thank fuckin' God." - His palm grasped yours as he turned on his heels, leading you deeper into the establishment. Joel was broad enough to make the way for both of you. He was making sure you were still following as if he couldn't feel your nails digging into his palm - he made sure a million times. His eyes periodically trailed between you and the space in front of him.

Once you entered the bathroom stall, everything got blurry - Joel's palms trailing your curves, his lips drowning in the skin of your neck, your palms holding onto his shoulders as he lowered on his knees. You wished you could take a picture of the view - Joel on his knees, one of his palms carefully lifting the hem of your t-shirt while he looked you in the eyes, leaving open-mouthed kisses on your abdomen while his other hand smoothed a trail on your upper thigh. Just as you expected, his palms were rough, full of calluses, and left a tingling sensation on your skin. Pressing his face to your abdomen and slowly getting back up, he pressed a kiss between your breasts before kissing the sweet spot on your neck again. Your breathing was irregular by the time his fingers curled around your chin.

"Are you sure you want this, little lady?" - He was purring into your ear, taking your earlobe between his teeth and playfully nibbling on it - the reason you were still standing was clearly that he pinned you between the door and his body... Palming your hot, wet sex teasingly, applying just the right amount of pleasure at the place you needed him the most. - "I don't plan on makin' you do somethin' you'd regret later. We clear?" "Joel... Please, for the love of God, shut the fuck up." - That's all you could muster - your body begged to feel his lips, for your hands to explore everything that's been hiding under that neatly tucked shirt and perfectly fitted jeans - you could see the outline of his dick, hard as a rock, but you wanted more. You wished to look at it, have it in your mouth, swallow it whole, or gag on it, whatever he'd like. The arousal building at your center made you forget words. When you tried to kiss him, he tsk-tsked you away, applying more pressure on your clit.

"Just say the words and it's all yours, pretty girl." "Remember how I said you're a rascal?" - You whispered, grinding against his palm gently. - "You're just a... Mhm... Shit... Fucking dick." "Such an eager little thing, aren't ya?" - Joel grinned, kissing the apple of your cheek, leaving his hand in place. You seemed to be horny enough not to need his help with your endeavors - all you needed was his fucking palm.

But Joel wanted more - he needed to hear you also want it. He needed permission before destroying you, fucking your silly little head empty. He could, however, also sense the reason for your hesitancy. What was he? Just a random guy at a club pulling a chick just to fuck her at the stalls and never see her again. Understandable. Because of that, he'd been willing to give you a bit of assurance. - "C'mon, be a good girl. Use your words." "Will you spank me if I misbehave?" "If a good ol' spankin''s whatcha after... We can talk 'bout it on a date." "A date?" - Your eyes lit up, your motions stopping for a bit - to keep you occupied, Joel started applying pressure with his fingers, having you staring at him with your mouth agape. You looked... So damn hot. - "Are you serious, Texas? You want to take me out?" "Mhm, of course, little lady. You'll gimme your phone number, and I'll give you mine. You'll set the date, and I pick out the restaurant. My treat, 'f course. There, you can tell me all you want 'bout spanking that cute ass 'f yours. Sounds good?"

He was... Serious. There was a cocky smile on his lips as he watched you, but he was asking you out. No buts or ifs. No games. It took you a moment to process his proposition - his fingers lazily circling around your clit were making it fucking hard to think. "I'd... I'd love that, cowboy." "Good girl." - Joel cooed, carefully pulling strands of hair out of your eyes with his other palm, leaning his arm to the door behind you. - "What do you want me to do now?" "Everything." - You whispered, stealing a peck from his lips. - "I wanna take everything you're willing to offer. I want this, I want you, wanna feel your lips on me, your dick inside me, fuckin' Christ, I want everything."

That was all Joel needed to hear, the words to set him in motion. His hands gently cupped your head as he kissed you with passion, his mouth devouring each inch he'd kiss, his teeth gently sinking into your skin - just enough to let you feel it, but not enough to hurt you. Not caring about the tent in his jeans, he'd started lowering on his knees again, pulling your t-shirt off your body just so he could hungrily stare at your tits rising and falling with each labored breath. He couldn't but palm them, squeezing them gently. Not wasting more time, he got back to work - worshipping each inch of your skin with his palms, leaving a trail of wet kisses from your chest to your abdomen, stopping above your shorts. He didn't look at what his fingers were doing - Joel simply continued undoing the zipper and button, staring you in the eyes. His right thumb slipped on your clothed clit, having your body react immediately - shuddering, moaning upon the sensation. This wouldn't fly - you could be kicked out if you wouldn't be careful. He wished to listen to those sweet sounds, but...

"Can you somethin' for me?" "Mhm?" - You let out in response, your eyes already darkened with lust. Just a few more beats and Joel would send you heaven, he swore to himself - he started taking his flannel shirt off frantically, handing it over to you. "Bite on it, honey. We don't wanna everyone hearin' how good I make you feel, do we?" "No." - Doing as he asked you, you buried your entire face in his shirt - it smelled just like him, the discovery making you whimper. Lost in the moment, you barely noticed your panties and shorts being removed - before you grasped it, Joel was already filling the newly discovered territory with his face, spreading your thighs far apart.

Under different circumstances, Joel would be delighted to play with you - tease you, let you tiptoe on the edge of paradise before allowing you to drown in all the pleasure, pushing you towards the cliff's edge - you two, sadly, didn't have enough time. You weren't splayed over his bed, your arousal wasn't staining the sheets, and he couldn't let you scream at the top of your lungs before you'd squeeze his head with your thighs. Secondly, he was too fucking horny to hold back. Working you up with his mouth, he untangled your ankle out of your panties, throwing your leg over his shoulder - allowing himself to push as deep as possible in such conditions. His tongue collected each drop of arousal, warm pain setting in his jaw as he did his best to lick your slit clean, just like a plate of his favorite dish.

After he made sure you won't fall down, Joel put his lips to good use (sucking on your clit), and his palm started discovering the valley further below, spreading your folds teasingly. You noticed his finger slowly entering you, digit after digit - his fingers were wider and rougher than yours, filling you up better than yours ever could. Trying to muffle a loud moan, your face disappeared in the fabric of his shirt, your chest heaving as you gasped for air. Joel loved having your fingers tangled in his hair - lost to the moment, you couldn't care less about how violently you're tugging on it, each tug getting a guttural growl out of him. The sounds echoed through you, reaching into all parts of your body, pushing you over the edge.

You couldn't name what precisely caused your orgasm to approach so fucking fast - you were under the impression that usually, it took way longer for you to come. Could be anything - his smell all up your nose, his tongue flickering on your sensitive cluster of nerves at an impressive speed, his palm holding onto your thighs, or two (maybe three) fingers curling inside you. Probably everything combined. The next thing you realized was that you mumbled his name like a prayer, riding through your high on his face, trying to catch your breath as you leaned your head into the door, eyes closed, Joel religiously watching and memorizing how you liked like when you came undone. You were beautiful.

"You good?" - Joel asked after your thighs relaxed and let go of his head. His voice was raspy. It took him a bit to pick himself up (his knees went numb), but soon, he was there to steal a kiss from you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. Your flushed, relaxed expression was adorable - he hadn't had a woman looking at him this way in a long time. Your eyes were open lazily (offering him a tender look), your smile hinting at all the bliss circulating in your blood. "Never better, sugar." "Don't think anyone called me that before." "You like it?" - You asked, playing with the hem of his gray t-shirt, caressing his abdomen, his flannel shirt still hanging off your palm. "Gets me all railed up." - With a grin, Joel approached you, picking your leg up to circle it around his waist. The jeans felt cold against your burning and sensitive core, the rough material putting a strange edge into Joel's pelvis grinding against yours at a lazy, teasing pace. - "You want this too, baby? Think you can take it?" "I want everything."

"Okay." - He hummed, trailing his fingers along your shoulders, brushing lips over your jaw and lips. Before you knew it, his palm crept back between your thighs, his fingers sliding inside you, working you up to relax you and get the arousal going. - "How do you want it? Should I sit down? If you wanna, I can get deeper if you bend forward. C'mon, be a good girl and use your words." "Just... I want... Fuck." - Not being able to put a single sentence together, you shushed his palm and godly fingers away. Bracing yourself, you leaned into the door comfortably, shaking your ass a bit to tease him. Joel didn't hesitate to play along, slapping it to see the tender, soft skin jiggling. It didn't escape him how you almost purred, whimpering from the friction. He was half-sure you joked about the spanking bit, but seeing you get off on it put a childish grin on his face.

Before he undid his belt (your head was turned to him the entire time, hungrily watching each move), he'd pulled his wallet from one of the pockets, pulling a condom out. Biting on the aluminum packaging gently, Joel threw his wallet away carelessly, feverishly undoing his jeans before pushing the pants and underwear down to his knees. His dick sprang free, having you hypnotized while Joel put the condom on - you'd swear you hadn't seen a nicer-looking dick in your lifetime, not even in porn movies you watched. It was decently long, pre-cum leaking from the tip, with few veins giving it a nice texture. What put a slight frown on your face was the width of it. It was girthy, for the lack of a better term, massive, to say the least. The challenge excited you, giving you more reasons to take him balls deep. Moan escaped your mouth upon that thought.

"Oh, I know, baby girl." - Joel whispered, stepping closer to you, kneading your cheeks like dough - digging his fingers in one moment, lovingly squeezing them in the other. - "I'll take care of everythin', I promise. Just relax for me." "Okay, sugar." - Complying, you tried your best to relax when he ran his palms down your back, massaging soothing circles into your skin. Hearing the nickname, Joel snickered under his breath. "You gonna me drive up the fuckin' wall if you keep that nickname up."

You started to turn your head in Joel's direction to reply, but before you could do so, the tip of his dick slipped inside you - the burning sensation had you banging your first against the door, opening your mouth, eyes closed firmly, chest heaving as you adjusted to him. It wasn't unpleasant - it was just unusual - you hadn't had sex ever since that 'British stud of yours' as Anne dubbed Felix. And any toys couldn't do Joel's dick any justice. "All good, little lady?" "Mhm, never better." - Nodding, you took a long breath before lowering yourself down on his shaft, feeling it stretching you out inch by inch. There weren't many things that would make Joel Miller speechless, but watching you sliding down while his hands held your hips, hearing you muffle your whines and moans was pure fucking magic. The closer your ass got to his base, the harder it was to breathe for him.

"Look at you, sweetheart." - Joel cooed, closing the remaining gap between your bodies - the tip of his cock brushed your cervix, making you gulp. The man didn't move for a solid minute, letting you relax and adjust, rubbing soothing circles into your hips. - "This would make a man lose his damn mind, Jesus fuckin' Christ. You're doin' so fuckin' well for me." "That dick would make any woman lose their mind too, Texas." - Saying that, you giggled, unintentionally tightening around him - Joel's hips buckled in response, making you whine happily. - "You can move, yannow that? I ain't made of glass." "Promise to tell me it'd get uncomfortable for you, yeah?" - The man asked, kissing your shoulder. Nodding, you lazily smiled at him. "Promise."

In a few thrusts, you could perfectly understand why Joel promised he'd stop if things got uncomfortable for you - he struggled to find his tempo, sloppily thrusting in and out of you in unforgiving, needy movements. But as soon as he found his footing? His movements became determined and precise, each trust stretching your tight walls gently, almost lovingly. He was gripping your hips, the nailbeds digging into your smooth, gentle skin - so tightly that you'd swear you'd have small remnants of him with you in the morning. Anytime he felt like it, he'd make you meet his dick halfway, breathlessly snickering at your ecstatic expression. You both mumbled nonsense, motivating each other to keep going, movements growing desperate as you started chasing your highs. Without Joel needing to mutter a word, your palm sneaked to your clit, your fingers rubbing frantic get gentle circles around the bundle of nerves.

"'M gonna... 'M gonna..." - Joel muttered religiously, palming one of your breasts to gently play with your nipple. "Just a bit longer, and I'm... Fuck, fuck, fuck, Joel." - It came across as a pathetic whine - the tip of his dick brushing against the most sensitive spot inside you. The burst of warmth and pleasure made you shudder, meowling to your forearm as you tried to keep your shit together. "Ya with me?" - Joel pressed on, his brain barely capable of making meaningful sentences. "Yes. Yes, yes, yes." - As he brushed the spot again, a mind-numbing orgasm washed over you. For a moment, you didn't know who the fuck you were, what your name was, where you were, or whom you were with. All you could feel was concentrated pleasure washing over your body, leaving you whining and moaning into the fabric of his shirt before letting it fall to the ground. Joel's last trusts were sloppy, almost too brutal, but soon, he was grunting as his load leaked into the condom.

"Jesus." - He muttered, gently slipping out - the emptiness hit you like a truck, almost leaving you begging for more. You'd beg if you could form any word on your tongue. - "How we doin', little lady? All parts where they should be?" - He whispered, gently helping you to stand up as he pulled your underwear and shorts back where they belonged. If you'd let him, he'd memorize how you looked - sweaty, breathing irregularly with a contained expression. Every inch of your skin was a masterpiece Joel'd carve into wood just to have it always with him. Fucking on a bathroom stall, however, wasn't the right place or time to ask for some lovey-dovey nonsense.

"You some kind of mechanic or what? I'm good, don't worry 'bout me. Gave me exactly what I wanted." "There she is, the sassy little sweetheart I couldn't get 'nough of. And... Somethin' like that. I'm a carpenter." - Joel explained, ensuring you looked somewhat presentable. It wouldn't be gentlemanly to let you walk around looking like a cute, freshly fucked mess - no matter how much this idea aroused him, letting all the men who eyed you over the night know that he was the one you chose to have the time of your day with. Instead of answering, you started laughing, catching him off-guard. - "What's funny 'bout me bein' a carpenter, hm?" "Nothin', nothin'." - You whispered, shushing his palms away to control your make-up. Well, it was decently smudged but still presentable. With how Anne looked before you and Joel took an abrupt detour to the stalls, you'd be soon on your way home anyway. - "I'll be working for a carpenter, starting fairly soon. It's just a funny coincidence, 's all."

"I see. He's a lucky man, then." - Joel hummed, caressing the apple of your cheek with his fingers before letting you steal a peck from you. - "If you'd be workin' for me, I wouldn't keep my fuckin' hands off you, sweet girl. You tell him you have another carpenter in town who wouldn't waste a second hirin' you, yeah?" "You don't mean that. That's the sex talkin'." "On my honor. If he won't treat you respectfully, yannow who to call. I can always use some help." - Teasingly slapping your ass, Joel picked his shirt and wallet off the ground, adjusting his belt and jeans. - "There's the business card, you call this number, yeah? The second one. The first one's for my office. And as a promise, you take this with ya." - Carefully, he tugged you into the shirt, smoothing your upper arms. - "'s my lucky shirt. I never go out in anythin' else. You better keep an eye out." "This gets the ladies going?" - Was what you replied, pushing your arms through the sleeves and buttoning up the lower half of the shirt. Ensuring you won't lose the card, you pushed it inside your phone case, showing it to Joel. "It got you goin', didn't it?" "Was that bloody smirk 'f yours, asshole." "Never been turned on by anyone callin' me an asshole. Whatcha doin' to me, girl? You ready to go?" - The lock was undone, and as a gesture of gratitude (and another promise), Joel offered you his palm to hold onto. To your surprise, he let you entwine your fingers with him without protesting. "Yeah. Let's go."

Thankfully, when you walked back onto the humid, heavy-aired club, Tommy and Anne were still dancing - both appeared heavily intoxicated, holding each other tightly, dancing to a sweet serenade. That, thankfully, meant no questioning for either you or Joel. As you also predicted, Anne wanted to go home when she spotted you hanging out by the bar.

Joel and Tommy helped you find a taxi, settling Anne down in the backseat - it was raining heavily, all of you jogging to the car with laughter. The night started to get cold. It was time to go home, lulled by the prospect of a date - the man in question was just pushing a strand of hair behind your ear, kissing your temple, whispering sweet nothings and goodbyes to your ear. Tommy, even though he was usually as perceptive as a stomp, left you alone and moved to smoke under a nearby umbrella, grinning from ear to ear as he watched you being all cheesy and lovey-dovey - he knew better than to mutter a word. Joel'd definitely fire back at him.

"Here's the money for the ride, tip included. Take 'em wherever they want to, the rest's yours." - Joel leaned into the cab, handing the driver a hefty bill while patting the roof - what a typical gesture. Staring at him in shock, you shook your head in disapproval - Anne pointed at him with a drunkard giggle. "I'm startin' to like your grumpy Texan ass more 'n more." "What a compliment." - Joel answered with pure irony. - "Take care, ladies. Text me when you get home, 'kay, sweetheart?" "Will do, sir. But betcha ass we'll be discussing this later." - Vaguely pointing to the driver, you spared Joel one last smile before the cab took off, driving you home. - "Take care!" - You cried out, watching his figure disappear in the distance.

Getting Anne to your room without waking up the whole block was a superhuman task - she'd trip over nothing, kept on shushing you (even though you hadn't said a word), giggling under her breath as she tried to keep her balance. You expected Mom to bust in at any minute, but only Sam inspected the ruckus. "Jesus fuckin' Christ." - The girl muttered, rubbing her eyes sleepily. The sight was hilarious, you needed to admit - Anne was sitting on the edge of your bed, rocking from side to side while attempting to take off her shoes. Her tongue, as usual, was sticking out of the corner of her mouth with pure concentration. - "I take it that the night was good?" "I'll tell you all about it tomorrow. Go to sleep now, yeah?" - Smoothing her shoulder, you watched as Sammy nodded sleepily and started retreating toward her room.

Before going to sleep, you made sure Anne's clothes were hung enough to dry out before she departed after tomorrow's dinner, and that her hair was neatly covered with a towel. As promised, before hitting the sack, you sent Joel a short text to let him know you're both safe at home, wishing him a good night. The night was something - sex with Joel helped you sober up, and thanks to Anne's overwhelming, unmissable snoring, you took one hell of a time to fall asleep. While Anne was knocked out in an instant, you had to roll around for quite some time before you finally fell asleep - dreaming of Joel, his big hands, honest smiles, and passionate kisses.

"Are you fuckin' with me? That happened? And it was that good?" - Anne squealed, pushing half a waffle inside her mouth. Her appetite (despite the hangover she must've had) always surprised you. Nobody should be this hungry after digesting such an ungodly amount of alcohol... Nobody. Sam, responsible for bringing you a very late breakfast to bed, had her eyes glued to your lips, listening to how you described what had happened in the bathroom stalls. - "... Didn't even notice you two were gone." "No wonder. You two were fucking out of it. They were wobbling around to Long Long Time by the time we got back, both sobbing their asses off." "Uh-uh, that didn't fuckin' happen. Don't believe a word comin' out of this wench's mouth, Sammy." "In all fairness, it's a solid song." - Sam reiterated, having Anne snapping, humming approvingly. "Amen, sister. Girl knows her stuff."

"Back to the guy. So you texted him goodnight? As he asked?" - Sam pried further, laying down as she stared at you. "Mhmh." "Had he replied?" "Yes." "WHAT DID HE-?" - Anne squealed even louder, earning an elbow to her side. Rubbing the spot, she looked at you. - "Bitch, you hadn't told me he actually reached back out. What did the super hot, hunky, gruff cowboy say? Spill it." "Well, he wished me a good morning for starters, unlike someone..." - Alluding to how Anne's first sentence consisted of 'Girl, I don't know if it's gonna come outta my mouth or ass first, so you better move' and keeping the duo tensed up, a smile spread on your lips. - "He started asking when I was free but told me he couldn't go out today because of this dinner with his best buddy. So... I have a date tomorrow." "You're shitting me!" - Anne muttered, giggling her ass off. "Dude, keep it the fuck down. I don't wanna explain this to my mom." "Yeah, yeah, whatever. What's your take on the situation, young padawan?" - Without sparing you a look, Anne just waved you off and pointed her fork in Sam's direction.

"He sounds like a genuinely great guy. A bit of an age difference? No prob, sis. On the other hand, if you'd bring home an eighty-year-old gramps with diapers and prescribed meds..." "Samantha!" - Gasping for air, you threw a strawberry her way - grinning from ear to ear, Sam caught in on her first try. - "'s that what you think of me? Thank you kindly. That's so fucked up." "You asked me a question, and I gave you an answer. Grow up. But no cap - you're glowing just talking about the guy. You're all flustered, giggly, playing with your hair and... It's nice to see you like that." "She ain't wrong... She ain't wrong at all."

Dinner preparations consisted of pure chaos - Fleetwood Mac's biggest hits playing out of your dad's stereo as you helped around the kitchen, Anne occasionally dipping to comment on the baseball game your dad watched in the living room. The entire house was pristine, not a dust particle in sight as if the Queen of England was about to drop for a visit. Your mom pulled out her best decorations and fanciest set of plates, asking you to decorate them with napkins. Sam was with you the entire time, carefully watching your moves as if you weren't real - even giving in to dance with you to Dreams, both laughing as you clumsily wobbled around the dining room.

When it was around 4pm, you all hid in Sam's room to make yourselves look presentable - Sammy opted for a cutesy wollen vest, a short-sleeved t-shirt, and a pair of jeans. With her hair styled in a high ponytail, she looked genuinely cutesy. Anne borrowed one of the fancy dresses you used to wear for work, pairing it with her pair of good ol' trusty pair of Vans - as per usual, Anne would've looked hot as fuck even if she'd worn a potato bag. You opted for a more casual, relaxed fit. You dug out a flowy black dress with polka dots all over it, choosing a relaxed hairstyle and light layer of make-up to go with it. You assumed you didn't have to sit around dressed like you were waiting for a job interview since the guy was your dad's best friend.

"They're here!" - Mom cried out over the music blasting in the living room - your dad changed it to good ol' Bruce Spingsteen's Born in the U.S.A. "Aight, how do I look?" - You asked, twirling around to let both the girls see - you wanted to leave a good first impression on your soon-to-be employer and a trusted family friend, as well as on his brother. "You're looking good. I've told you a million times already - Joel doesn't make a fuss about such things. I've worked for him for a year and a half, so I'd be the one to know." - Sam muttered, rolling her eyes. She'd spent the last hour assuring you looked amazing and impressionable, that was much true. - "Just come already, Jesus. You'll relax once you see him." - With that, she started descending the stairs, loudly greeting the guests.

"Like a snack." - Anne suggested, having you shaking your head. "Not the time..." "What if he's like... Smoking hot?" "He's also my dad's best friend. No way in hell..." "Never say never." "That's why I usually don't ask for your fucking input, Anne." "Chill, girl, you got this. Take a breath, shake the nerves off... You look fucking amazing, and you're way smarter than... Oh... Oh, fuck." - She was standing on top of the stairs, her palm clutching the railing until her knuckles turned white. All emotion suddenly drained from her expression, her face growing pale, and her eyes widened at the sight. Slowly, you peeked around the corner, your eyes meeting the strangers immediately.

What if he was smoking hot, huh? Well, you knew for a fact he was. Those lips were kissing you yesterday. Those palms chalked up the cue for you, teasing you how to play billiard without getting a cramp in your palm. These eyes watched you as if you were the only woman in the club, following each step you took, his palm never shying away from grasping the small of your back. You saw him undress for you. You felt him pounding into you when he chased his release. You listened to his voice pouring sweet nothings and perverted, arousing nonsense into your ears as he fucked you. You had his number saved in his phone. You had a date set with him. It was Joel. Joel, the mysterious hunky gruff cowboy. Joel, who was staring back at you with the same horror in his eyes. Joel, who was your dad's best fucking friend.

Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck indeed.

Thank you for reading! 🩷 Reblogs and comments are appreciated; in case you have any questions or scenarios you'd like to see, hmu in dms or under the post. 🩷 Have a nice day!

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This is the Year: Juan 'Juice' Ortiz x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Resolutions!

Tagging: @stydiaswish @goosterroose @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @darqchilddaydreamz

Juice doesn’t believe in New Year’s resolutions. He’s made them plenty of times over the years, but he’s never been able to stick to it. That is until he meets you.

He’s sitting on the swings by the clubhouse when midnight comes around, a beer clasped in his hand. His gaze shifts to Tig whose standing on the porch, his arm looped around Suzie’s waist, his thumb ghosting over her cheek. Those silver rings contrast against her skin as he tips her chin up and kisses her. There’s so much love between the two of them, there has been from the start and now the two of them have a baby.

Juice wants that, he wants to feel like he matters to someone, to love them and be loved in return.

This is the year, I do it. He promises himself as he watches the fireworks erupt throughout the night sky. This is the year he asks you out.

It started in late November in the botanical gardens. Tig had been doing a lot of treks across the country, smoothing out the Sons withdrawal from the gun game. Suzie was getting big, trying to finish up work at Cara, Cara before maternity leave started. She was finding it hard to walk Bonnie. Juice had offered to help out, he loved animals especially dogs. He’d started taking Bonnie to the botanical gardens. He’d read up on scent walks, how they were mentally relaxing for dogs. He thought that it may help with the healing process after everything she’d been through with the dog fighting ring.

The two of them had gotten into a routine. They’d go to the gardens, and she’d have a sniff around, explore for a bit before they played with the ball launcher. After that they’d chill under a tree, get some doggie ice cream, people watch and play tug.

They’ve been doing this for a couple of weeks before he notices you. The pretty girl on the bench with the sketch book. He’s always been fascinated by creatives, he’s more mechanical minded, good with his hands. It’s the reason he’s so good with computers and with engines, there’s something about them that just makes sense to him. He catches your eye, and you give him that smile. The one that makes his entire world light up.

It's April when the roses come into bloom, it gives the botanical gardens a new lease of life. Bonnie’s in her element, there’s new smells to explore. The dog has come out of her shell so much over the past few months that Tig’s asked him to continue with the dog walking. Both him and Suzie are busy with the new baby, they want to make sure Bonnie doesn’t get left out.  

It’s Bonnie that makes the first move, the gardeners have been rearranging some of the plants, adding new ones. You just so happen to be seated alongside of one of them, the lead slips out of his grasp as she takes off bee-lining towards it. He hauls ass after her, calling her name. When he eventually catches up, she’s seated in front of you, tongue lolling out of her mouth as you shower her with attention.

“Sorry, sorry.” He apologises, scooping up the leash. “There’s a lot of new smells, she gets excited.”

“I get it.” You tell him. “My friend’s dog is the same. We usually come out here in the evenings, play a little, it’s a good wind down.”

“You like dogs?” Juice asks as he scratches behind Bonnie’s ears.

“Sometimes more than I like people.” You say with a smile.

He laughs because honestly, he feels the same way.

“Hey, let me buy you a coffee.” He says, tipping his head towards the coffee cart by the fountain. “You can tell me a little more about your friend’s dog.”

That’s how it starts. He learns that you’re an artist, that you teach adult classes at the local college throughout the day and some evenings. You come to the botanical gardens to get to some versatility, drawing nature throughout the seasons, sometimes you draw people. You flick through the pages of your sketchbook, showing him different depictions of the same space. It transforms throughout the year, sometimes the shading changes, you add shadows. It grows, it develops, it becomes something more.

“I prefer painting.” You tell him when the two of you head out on one of your evening dog walks. Bonnie and Misha, the Cockapoo are checking out the trail ahead as you walk side by down, sipping hot chocolates from the coffee cart. “I just love working with colour, seeing the difference it makes, the contrast.”

“You have such passion.” He tells you as his thumb chases up the side of the takeaway cup.

“What are you passionate about?” You ask him, your shoulder bumping against his.

“Honestly?” He asks, taking a gulp of his caramel hot chocolate.

“Yea.” You say with that enthusiastic grin of yours. “What gets you up in the morning? What do you live and breathe?”

“Engines.” He tells you, shrugging his shoulders as you laugh. “I don’t know what to say! When I start stripping down a bike and I put my hands to work, something in me just clicks. It’s like the whole world makes sense. I just focus on the task, the nuts and bolts of it and I don’t know…” he trails off for a second as he tries to find the words. “It’s soothing you know?”

“That’s how I feel about painting.” You tell him, your gaze on the two dogs as they snuffle in one of the bushes. “I couldn’t do it for a while, a couple of years ago and it drove me absolutely crazy.”

“I noticed the scars.” Juice remarks gesturing at your right arm. “You broke your arm at one point?”

“What’s Misha got?” You say, quickening your step before you call out for the dog to ‘drop it’.

The walks turn to dinner dates, which turn to late night bike rides because sometimes he can’t sleep, and he discovers that you can’t either. You feel so good against him, your arms wrapped around his waist, your cheek pressed against his back. It’s after one of these rides that you invite him inside and he knows it’s not just for coffee.

He makes love to you in fresh sheets, in a room that’s filled with canvases and colour. His fingers entwin with yours, your thighs hitching around his waist as he loves you like he’s loved no one else. Your fingertips chase over the scars on his back, the ones from where he was shivved in prison.

You know that’s one of the reasons he doesn’t sleep sometimes. He dreams about that day, of the shiv plunging into him, the blood dripping onto the concrete underneath his feet.

Your palms trail down the curve of his spine, caressing his ass before you draw him even deeper, and he moans into your mouth because until then he’s tried to be a gentleman but you…

You untether him completely.

It’s playful, sensual and soft. He smiles as you bite his lower lip because his baby, she knows exactly what she wants and it’s him. When you shatter underneath him, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. He comes hard, his hips flush against yours as he drinks down your pleasure.

Another year, another New Year’s party.

Juice steals you away before midnight, breaking into the botanical gardens where the two of you first met. He lays down a picnic blanket so that you can watch the fireworks in peace.

It’s perfect, this moment, lying beneath the stars with the woman he loves.

He’s been carrying the ring around with him since he bought it a couple of weeks, just waiting for the right time and he knows now in his heart that this is it.

He says your name as he props himself up, withdrawing the ring from his pocket. You tilt your head towards him as he holds it up.

“Simone, I love you.” He tells you, the earnestness shining in his features. “Let me spend the rest of my life making you as happy as you make me.

“Juan…”

He just loves the way you say his name. You’re the only one that gets to call him that, the only one he lets call him that.

“Juan, I can’t.”

His world crashes in on him. The ring slips from between his fingers tumbling onto the blanket and getting lost in the folds. Everything goes numb, he feels the emptiness flood through his body as you reach for him, your thumb ghosting across his cheek. It’s just an intimate gesture, and it hurts so fucking much.

“It’s not you.” You tell him, your voice cracking. “It’s me, it’s entirely me.”

The story comes out in stops and starts and Juice’s heart breaks with every single word. You can’t marry him, of course you can’t, because you’re still married to the abusive asshole who used to beat the hell out of you.

It’s the reason you left Seattle and came to Charming.

You’d ran after he’d smacked you around so hard, he’d shattered your right arm. He’s the reason it aches when it rains, the reason you had to stop painting a couple of years ago.

“I never divorced him.” You tell Juice as you sit on the picnic blanket with your knees drawn up to your chest. “If I do, he’ll find me…”

Your eyes sting, the tears leaking down your cheeks. You let out a shaky exhale before you raise your eyes to the sky.

“It’s over, right?” You say as you use the back of your hand to chase away the tears.

“No.” Juice says quietly as he sits beside you. “Not if you don’t want it to be.”

“I can’t give you what you want,” You say softly, toying with the beaded bracelet on your wrist. “I can’t be your wife.”

He gathers you up into his arms, drawing you into the comfort of his body. If he could take this all away for you he would, but he can’t because your history is what brought you here to him. His love for you, that’s unconditional, it doesn’t matter what label you put on it. He’s yours, for better or for worse.

“I don’t need a wife,” He whispers against your hair line as he cradles you close. “I just need you.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[night-spectrum]

Thinking about my spidersona:

Small angst; small suggested smut at the end; mostly fluff and comfort. TW: Mention of death, depression, healthy issues, and isolation.

Wish my computer could work so I could draw my Spidersona...😩

🕸 Spidersona, who was bitten by a funnel web spider (💀) and is still traumatized. She takes appointments with Spider-Therapist every Thursday. Spider-Cat helps her copes with stressful memories.

🕸 Spidersona, who's Caribbean and wears traditional superhero suit. Bright madras tissues wrapped around her head and hips and Creole earrings (hoop earrings).

🕸 Spidersona, who was the only Spider-Girl in Nouveau Fort in Martinique (don't look for it, I made it up, but it's based on Fort-de-France) until a certain Miguel "Fat Ass" O'Hara came to enroll her.

🕸 Spidersona, whose best person is clearly Pavitr because we support cultural representation, and obviously because he's the most adorable boy I've ever seen. ❤️ Besides, they usually chat about new clothes they like to embellish their suit and wardrobe.

They even have Indian nickname for each other : Pavitr is Munna (used for pretty and gentle boy), and Spidersona is Choti (used for girls and means small) based on this.

🕸 Spidersona, who loves dancing with Gwen late at night in her home. Spidersona shows Gwen how to move her butt like there's no tomorrow, and Gwen gives her tips to achieve a boneless split. There're also countless sleepovers and "Girls Talk" about boys, which is pretty much awkward at first, but they both like gossiping.

🕸 Spidersona, who has the fattest crush on Hobart "Hobie" Brown, 'cause let's be honest who wouldn't. Always avoiding him when he comes her way. Obviously, Hobie notices, and he thinks she doesn't like him or his style makes her feel uneasy.

🕸 Spidersona eventually confesses that she likes him :

"That's why you've been dodging me, luv?" Hobie rhetorically asks her, his full lips stretching into a genuine smile.

She feels her face heating up and her hands becoming sweaty. "Yeah, but I don't expect anything y'know. Just wanted to tell you..."

Hobie leans forward, and she presses her lips together, gazing down because she never noticed how interesting the ground could be. She feels his breath on her neck, and she shivers when his lips plant on her cheeks fondly.

"You're too cute, luv."

From that day, he's always close to her. His arm rests on her shoulders, and he's never too far when they're fighting anomalies. They both rely on each other when something goes wrong.

🕸 Spidersona, who curses in Creole when she's pissed.

"WHO STOLE MY SALTFISH ACCRA?! AY KOKÉ MANMAN ZOT! LAN DJET MANMAN ZOT! OU SÉ AN SAKRÉ TI ICH SALO-!"

"Wow! Wow! Okay, okay, we got it. That's enough bad words for today, luv." Hobie covers her lips and drags her out to cool down a bit.

Peter B. covers Mayday's ears, though he doesn't understand a thing he knows what she's saying isn't lovely.

🕸 Spidersona, who has arachnophobia, watches Penni petting her spider with disgust (don't get me wrong, her spider is adorable, but I don't want it near me). Miles makes fun of her and eventually chases her with random spider he finds around through the lobby.

🕸 Spidersona, who slips in Hobie's universe to spend some time together. She watches him play guitar on his bed and turns red when he hands her his instrument and sits behind her, his fingers brushing hers as he teaches her how to play.

🕸 Spidersona, who brings Martinican food to Mrs. Morales when she comes to visit Miles. Rio observes her chat with her son from afar along with Jefferson.

"She looks nice," Rio says after a while, still looking at them, "and she calls me 'Mrs. Morales." Her lips turning upward.

"Yeah, definitely Caribbean. Besides, I love these." Jefferson says, grabbing a slice of butter bread she made with her mom, accompanied by communion chocolate.

Spidersona and Miles look at their feet awkwardly, feeling Miles' parents' gaze on them.

"'M sorry 'bout my parents, they're... protective."

"Yeah, don't mention it. My mom does this, too."

🕸 Spidersona, who invites everyone one in her universe in Nouveau Fort. The tropical climate welcomes them fiercely, and everyone change to wear swimsuit. Peter B. applies sunscreen on Mayday and himself and lays down on a towel.

🕸 Hobie and Pavitr bury Miles in the sand, mermaid body in process as Spidersona and Gwen take Mayday to a swimming lesson, her Spider-Man rubber ring assisting her.

"Damn Gwen, you're red as hell." Spidersona hands her Peter's sunscreen, snorting.

"Ha. Ha. Very funny."

...

🕸 After 3 weeks and still no news from her, Hobie and Pavitr head to her universe. When they slip into her bedroom through the window, they find her in her bed, barely breathing. Pavitr rushes to her, worry in his eyes as he brushes her now sunken cheeks. She hardly opens her eyes, dried tears staining her face.

🕸 Hobie takes her face in his hand, caressing her cheekbones slowly before kneeling to be face level with her. He takes her blanket off her, and it pains them to see how much weight she lost. They can clearly see her ribcage under her skin.

As they discuss what to do, they hear her mother's voice in the living room. She sounds exhausted, her voice quavering.

"I don't know what to do, mom. She hasn't eat anything in days and she keeps losing weight. The doctor said we should bring her to the hospital because of her iron deficiency and underweight. Otherwise, her anemia might come back and-" her voice cracks, as she can't handle her overwhelming emotions. The phone slips from her grasp as she falls on her knees.

🕸 Hobie grabs her without hesitation and opens a portal, quickly followed by Pavitr. He mumbles apologies when she groans pain. When they arrive, Hobie pushes open the medical department's door with his foot. Spider Meds are quick to take care of her, using advanced medical tech.

🕸 Spidersona, who wakes up after 2 weeks, looking less of a momified monk. She sees a red-haired baby lying down on her belly. She recognizes Mayday, and Peter B. reaches out, his hand caressing her head.

"We missed you." He says genuinely, worry fading away and replaced by a look parents would give to their child after they injured themselves.

🕸 Spidersona, who just cries. Her pain and grief pouring out of her chest and she can't help it. Peter B. hugs her tightly, kissing her forehead.

🕸 Miles appears and stands still when he views the scene, his brain analyzing everything. He comes close, taking her hand in his, squeezing it kindly. When Peter lets go of you, Miles replaces him.

🕸 Spidersona, who after she calmed down, thanks them and asks where the others are, only to find out that they are on a mission.

🕸 Spidersona, who is surprised to see Spider-Man Noir paying her a visit, flower is his hands.

"Everyone's been worried about you." Miles explains, her hands still in his. "When Hobie and Pav came back with you almost dead, we freaked out."

"Jessica even talk to your mother so she wouldn't pass out when she found out you disappeared." Adds Spider-Man Noir.

She is grateful but also a bit ashamed she worried everyone.

"So... what happened?" Peter B. asks cautiously.

She looks up to him and tries to suppress the tears, creating in the corner of her eyes.

🕸 Spidersona, who wasn't fast enough to save her uncle Henry and faced the reality of the world.

Though everybody can relate, Miles feels like he knows exactly what she feels. He remembers when he found out that Uncle Aaron was the Prowler, the look in his eyes when he discovered Miles was Spider-Man. His hand slipping from his as he exhaled his last breath.

🕸 Spidersona, who spends her day with Miles since Peter went home to put Mayday in bed. She eats empanadas Miles brought for her.

"My mom made them for you. When I told her you were hospitalized, she wouldn't stop asking about you. Besides, since we didn't know when you would wake up, she made some every day." Miles scratches the back of his head; cheeks and ears red. He knew his mom liked you, maybe too much for his liking.

"Well, please, thanks her for me. This is delicious. My taste buds are dancing hard right now." She giggles, making Miles smile.

🕸 Spidersona, who eventually encounters Jessica and Miguel. She thanks the pregnant woman, hugging her slightly, knowing she's not a big fan. To her surprise, she rubs her back and smiles.

🕸 Spidersona, who turns to Miguel reluctantly and apologizes for being off without warning. He brushes her off, as usual, talking about how it was her canon event. Gee thanks.

🕸 Spidersona, who hears familiar voices. She turns around, and there they are : Gwen, Hobie and Pavitr. She launches herself on them, arms fully extended. Pav sees her first and rushes toward her. They both collide, their hands grasping any pieces of clothes, hugging like the world would disappear.

"I missed you so much, Choti." Pav cries, his hands hold her tightly. "You almost gave a heart attack. Don't do this ever again, please. I love you."

And she cries again, hearing her best friend voice trembling.

"I'm so sorry, Munna. I promise. I love you so much, too."

Gwen joins in, her lips quivering, and they open their arms for her to come.

🕸 Spidersona, who wipes her face after a while, then proceeds to notice Hobie, who stayed back. Pav hugs her one last time, then leaves with Gwen. She approaches Hobie, not sure why she feels so nervous all of a sudden.

🕸 Spidersona, who follows Hobie to his universe, their pinky intertwined. When they are both alone in his room, he smashes his lips against hers.

🕸 Spidersona, who feels like a tsunami washed over her: emotions and feelings blending in her core. It's slow at first but quickly bursts into a wildfire when she feels his body against her. It feels strange, and she's a bit insecure, but Hobie reassures her. It's overwhelming.

"Are you okay, luv?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper, like she'll shatter if he's too loud.

"Yeah. I am."

🕸 Spidersona, who slowly moves on, enjoys her life with those who remain and never forgets those who left.

[lemonkatt17]

I love your transformers art!!! It's beautiful and so cute!!

In your drawing are bee and Optimus like coworkers but bee see him like a father figure or is bee some teen Optimus took in I just want to know from the Canon of your comics

AAAA THANK YOUU SO MUCH HEHE

My versions of Bumblebee and Optimus are just a huge mix of them from the different versions of them, hence my designs for them you can see some similarities to different versions of them not really too heavy on any particular version.

But that’s design wise, story wise for mine, once again they’re just a mix of different versions, or what I like better- (cherry picking)

Bee being the youngest of them in team prime Optimus and the others kinda just had this natural instinct to protect him or view him as this kid/youngest sibling.

Optimus being the oldest/leader as well as feeling responsible for his team and viewing his team as his family, just slowly starting viewing Bee as his kid over time.

Bee is still a rebellious kid who goes on late night drives, stubbornly disobeying orders at times, and it just stresses Optimus out.

I’m such a yapper I’m so sorry- basically it’s both. Both taking their places in the team seriously as coworkers but overtime, with more and more bonding, they all grew closer as a family.

Bee holds so much respect and trust towards Optimus, with the way Optimus acts towards everyone he looked up to him (literally bro is small) just slowly viewing Optimus as a father figure, oblivious to Optimus clearly viewing Bee has his own.

Everyone else is not so oblivious to this and they were both last to know that yes they are indeed father and son.

Bee gets embarrassed and Optimus is confused half of the time.

ANYWAY THANK YOU FOR LETTING ME YAP ABOUT THESE 2 (I can yap for ages this is but a mere sliver)

[kerubimcrepin]

Episode 32 - Pupuce's Life

Finally, an episode where I won't have to say anything At All.

To extract some value from this ep despite how it is kinda boring, I will overanalyse this room now.

Firstly, Kerubim is so orphancoded. He's so old and sleeping on a bunk bed with no lower bunk.

I like to think that, in the orphanage, Kerubim and Atcham got into bloodied battles where they scratched the shit out of each other over who gets the top bunk, and due to not being hairless Kerubim always won and bullied him into sleeping on the lower one.

I like to think it was one of Atcham's many tragic backstories. Like that's when The Darkness truly began to grow.

I genuinely think it's fucked that Joris, at 7 years old, is sleeping in a cat bed. But also, that's not even one tenth of the most insanely evil things about their household.

They have so many potatos and so much bread... Heaven on earth.

Ever since I mentioned it in one of my earlier posts, I had wanted to elaborate just a bit on some other evidence for my headcanon (or, well, pretty-much-canon?) of Joris being a night owl, and this moment of Joris just blatantly oversleeping is as good time as any to bring it up:

We often see Joris awake at night, or staying up very late without any issues.

Perhaps, it is due to Kerubim himself often staying up late, and also due to, y'know, the child neglect that was probably happening before Simone, that he developed a circadian rhythm that has him being so okie-dokie staying up late.

I won't even point out that there's a random knife on the floor. I am fucking numb to the sheer neglect in this household by now. Kerubim could leave rat poison in Joris's bed and I would be like "oh that silly goofster!"

But I will point out that it seems that Kerubim often leaves Joris alone with Simone, and I will be real — in my heart of hearts I know that this fucker left Joris home alone since he was like four whenever he needed to do something. Or he'd be like "uhhh go across the street and sit at miss Julie's, brb" and be gone for hours. He probably left him home alone over overnight too. You can't tell me I'm wrong.

It would be out of character for him to get someone to actually babysit. Especially with how shit their home was.

"No, little pupuce, don't go into SCP-914!!"

"Oh mon dieu, c'est un scp full of evil clonen !"

Kerubim is insane. All these pictures of his ex, and none of his son. He really is insane.

I think Kerubim still draws, at least in some capacity. No other reason for there to be oil paints in their home.

Though perhaps Kerubim is into the idea of his son getting poisoned by expensive-ass professional-grade paint. Maybe he's just into that.

"ASTRUB CITY" repeated twice. + "Dofus Pets 2" (obviously.)

Also, jellyvision movie theatres are real. And so are traffic lights. Though I didn't bother screenshotting the second thing.

Oh this one is even better than that time we found out that someone at Ankama called a person named Emilie a bad word in this kids cartoon. You'll love this.

I'm sorry french person from 2013, but I've been translating this text with a huge grin on my face. You ARE the interesting find.

This ad is so beautiful. Thank you, Kerubim.

The man might pretend that he doesn't like Pupuces as a species all he wants, but his actions speak louder than his words. He's never beating the love allegations.

They are all so bad at taking photos... Also! This confirms that at least a Single photo of Joris, as well as Simone, is on a wall somewhere in the house. Big day for regaining belief in Kerubim's normalcy.

This says "ANNIV PUPUCE", which finally made me realize, that there are three champagne glasses on the table, one in Joris's hand, as well as some weird looking food with candles in it (probably pupuce's food?).

This changes EVERYTHING. Kerubim is no longer an evil fucking cat/enemy #1 of this blog. Kerubim has been forgiven.

[laurellerual]

Sooo… I feel like ranting a little bit, if you follow me you know why. I don't have the virtue of synthesis. And sorry for spelling mistakes, it's late and my English sucks.

About Gendry:

I don't understand how two friends who playfully beat and tickle each other can "look like rape". “Gendry invited Arya to a secluded place and then he pushed her to the ground” but that's not what happened. Arya is upset about the things she overheard being discussed at dinner and she goes out alone in a place she doesn't know. Gendry joins her and to distract her suggests they go and visit the forge together. He starts a conversation talking about Thoros and Robert. Considering the topic and the fact that a few chapters later he will ask to join the BWB, I think it's reasonable to assume that Gendry was pondering his decision to leave Arya and that he wanted to talk to her about it. It's only when ther is a misunderstending and Arya suggests that he goes to Riverrun and serve her brother that Gendry decides to let it go and change the subject. Secondly, it's not Gendry who pushes Arya to the ground. What happens is that Arya pushes Gendry against the anvil and when he grabs her hand, she kicks him which makes them fall both on the ground.

When Lem confronts Gendry that he tried to take advantage of her, Arya defends him against the accusation. There's no reason to believe that after spending all this time witnessing rape and abuse Arya wouldn't be able to recognize Gendry's intentions if they were less noble. Arya trusts Gendry also because he has spent so much time alone with her, but he has never taken advantage of it. The most emblematic scene is the one in which he confesses to her that he knows she's a girl. The two are alone in the forest and Arya remembers “This lot, half o' them would turn you over to the queen quick as spit for a pardon and maybe a few silvers. The other half'd do the same, only they'd rape you first. Only Gendry was different”. Furthermore, it is in fact Gendry that defends Arya from unwanted sexual advances at the Peach. Then you say “That scene had its function. Because it made Arya look like a victim of sexual abuse.”. What's kind of function is that?

About My Featherbed:

The song is about “a Targaryen prince in love with a girl from the North.”? Is it? I can vaguely understand how the Maiden of the tree can be interpreted as "from the North" because trees are linked to the religion of the Old gods, but the symbolism does not add up. The Maiden of the song wears a dress of golden leaves, while weirwood's leaves are red. Lyanna was associated with a weirwood tree, not a tree with golden leaves. The Maiden of the tree is clearly Arya, just a page before George highlights it by making her say "I look like an oak tree". (I would add that Arya is a little girl and is dressed as a green 'oak tree' in summer, while the woman in the song is a maiden and is dressed as a golden 'oak tree' in autumn).

Then I absolutely do not understand how someone can read about a Lord who wants to dress his beloved with yellow silk and a crown and think: he is clearly a Targaryen prince !!! Especially when Gendry is a Baratheon bastard who feels inadequate and the sigil of that house is a crowned stag in a yellow field. Finally, the concept of dressing the bride and making a vow to protect her recalls the foundation of house Baratheon with Orys covering Argella. What do the Targaryens have to do with all of this?

About the love triangle:

I understand the Arya-Lyanna parallels because the writer himself draws it. Gendry-Robert seem more foils than parallels. The two look alike, but where the father's hammer destroys the son's hammer builds, where Robert is friendly, greedy and lustful, Gendry is grumpy, pragmatic and green. If Robert didn't know Lyanna, Gendry instead stood by Arya at her lowest. What I don't understand is the Jaqen-Rhaegar parallelism. I guess they are both handsome and mysterious, but what do they have in common really?

At most the Hound should be parallels because he kidnaps (in this case for real) Arya and Gendry seems to be ready to beat him up as soon as he sees his helmet reappear. Edric Dayne could provide a parallel because he has Valyrian colors, makes the blacksmith jealous and Arya seems to get along with him. Or in the future the Rhaegar parallel could be Jon Snow or Aegon/Griff. But regardless of who could be the third pole of this hypothetical triangle, the dynamic is totally different, because Gendry and Arya are not two strangers socially bound by a betrothal, but two friends hindered by the difference in social class.

About the future:

The source is: “Okay so GRRM, arrived in Toronto yesterday for a book signing and unfortunately because of an exam, I was unable to attend (BOO!) so I asked my friend to ask him about Gendry and Arya's "relationship" and if they would ever reunite again. His response was that Arya and Gendry have separate futures but whether they'll ever meet up again, you'll just have to keep reading.” The statement is quoted only by one person who was not even present to hear it and they don't quote Martin's exact words. Also this answer sounds particularly spoilery by George's standards so I don't know if it's reliable. BUT I don't think it's that important.

Nothing prevents Gendry from being Arya's love interest anyway, not all the relationships we see in the books will survive the endgame, but that doesn't make them any less significant. “There won't be any baby. If Arya is going to be a mother someday, Jaqen will father her child/children.” Arya will not have a baby in story because at the end of ADOS she won't be more than 13 years old. So I'd say that whichever ship you prefer we shouldn't expect to see anything beyond hugs, holding hands and maybe a kiss.

About Jaqen:

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I don't understand talking about Jaqen as if he were a person. We don't even know if that's his real face and since it's an FM it's probable that that's not his real name. I don't believe that man is Jaqen any more than he is the Alchemist. Also some words from the Kindly man seem to imply that the FMs must be sterile, but maybe it's just my impression.

George may have mentioned that Arya and Gendry have separate futures, but I'm pretty sure he never said anything about an Arya-Jaqen reunion.

About Jamie:

“Rosey is a foil for Arya, Pate is a foil for Jaqen and Lazy Leo is a foil for Jaime.” and “Patchface is a foil for Jaqen and Owen the Oaf is a foil for Jaime.”. I don't understand by what logic you can draw these parallels between characters, these guys have nothing in common with each other. Foreshadowing is not simply substituting one name for another and expecting this to be proof that other unrelated characters may find themselves in the same situation in the future.

I think that when discussing possible future situations the characterization of the characters as they have been constructed up to now cannot be completely ignored. Why would Jaime be in a position to tell Jaqen that he wants to rape Arya. It seems to me out of character for Jaime would seriously consider raping a girl the age of his daughter. But then, has he ever even had sex with a woman who wasn't his sister? When has he ever looked at a young girl and thought: you know what? Now I think I'm going to rape her. For heaven's sake he's certainly not a saint, but he's not the Mountain. Such an initiative goes against the characterization of Jaime as we have known him up to now.

As for “a foreshadowing of a Lannister raping Arya in the Mercy chapter from The Winds of Winter” I have another interpretation. The staged rape of Bobono (Tyrion) and Arya (innocent girl) mirrors the staged rape of Arya (Mercy) and Raff (who lies to Mercy saying he is westerosi lord).

The end. I think I said it all, I vented enough. Thanks for reading and sorry for the length. Good night!

[lilabella12]

1300 - Day 1

Meet the Norwood family..... they live on a small farm in the outskirts of Windenburg, a fief of Lord Gilbert de Clare.

William inherited this farm from his father when he passed while William was just a child. He never had any siblings but found a responsible wife in Eva. She's happy when she is surrounded by people while her husband is the exact opposite.

Together they had 3 children who help out around the farm.

The youngest is Evan who is responsible for the chickens, even though his big brother keeps a watchful eye out... He knows that his little brother likes to cause mischief.

Evan turned 7 not too long ago and has developed some other interests.... He takes to archery quite well

Tara is the middle child of the family. She helps out with planting and harvesting in the garden but most of her time she spends out in the forest... The family doesn't really understands what draws her to it but Eva is always thankful for the supplies she brings home.

Finnian, the eldest son, mostly manages the crops and goes out hunting with his father when the pantry need filling. He has a really good relationship with his sister.

The year 1300 catches them a little bit off guard. They used up most of their supplies in the last winter and William goes out to hunt almost every day. Eva is worried that they will run short in a few days.

"Finnian, do you think you could run an errand down at the Bishops? I asked him to set aside some fish for storing and I just want to know if he has had any luck catching some.... I would do it myself but I'm feeling faint today."

"Of course mother, you should rest today. Don't worry, I wanted to talk to Emma anyway. We wanted to go to curch together before Easter."

When Finnian leaves, she lies done immeadiatly. She isn't feeling good lately, there were even a few fainting spells... If it doesn't get better she knows she need to go to the village doctor.

Finnian meanwhile has walked over to their neighbours, the Bishops. He's anxious about his mothers illness but happy that he can see his childhood friend, Emma.

"Sorry, but my father is out fishing today, he didn't catch much the last few days. I'll be happy to come by and bring some if he catches any."

"My mother is really worried, I think I'll just go there and ask him myself... or... We could go down to the river and try to catch some?"

"Sure, we can try... but don't be disappointed when we don't catch anything."

They don't catch anything but at least they had time to talk. For some time now Finnian is drawn to Emma's company but he can't quite put together why.... They decide to go to church together next week to pray for a good harvest at least.

But Finnian didn't need to worry. When Emmas father returns shortly after they get home, he shares a bountiful catch with him.

Emma watches him leave with a smile on her face. She's happy that he feels a bit calmer now.

When he comes home that evening, he's happy to see that his mother recovered somewhat she sits together with the neighbours who brought over some food so share.

"Look, Finnian, the neighbours brought some pheasants they hunted today, I can prepare it for tomorrow."

"That's nice, mother. The Bishops also had some fish to share. Are you feeling better?"

"Yes, love, thank you. Let me take those to the pantry."

The neighbours look at their exchange fondly.

"Well, Finnian, you've grown up to be quite the responsible young man. Eva, would you like me to bring over my daughter sometime? He should start to think about marriage soon."

Finnian smiles awkwardly and looks away. Emma's smiling face shows up in his mind.

[daeyeol4you]

The Chay Rewatch Ep 5

As part of my KP Rewatch, I’m going to be commenting on each episode and analyzing the different Chay scenes. He’s my favorite character, and I thought I’d put down my thoughts (as well as timestamps for his scenes) as a fun way to express that.

Ep 1 & 2, Ep 3, Ep 4

Ep 5 - The Music Lesson

Time 4:58-7:56 - The Bread Sticks

Yes this isn’t a Chay scene, but at this point I’m analyzing Kim and Chay scenes.

Kim’s Outfit: A classic Kim look with the leather jacket – black this time at least- and the white pants. Someone please take those white pants away from him.

Not Kim taking two seconds to confirm he’s alone in the office before practically jumping to searching for clues. He'd love escape rooms so much.

IDK if this ever gets confirmed, but those handprints belong to baby Porsche and baby Porchay right? The red paint is so ominous.

Korn, I think, definitely likes Kim the most out of his three sons. He doesn't trust him, but he sees how Kim attempts to play the game his own way. Kim, unlike Kinn and Khun, is suspicious of everything, an amazing fighter, and establishing himself on his own. Kim makes an amazing chess piece. If Korn could control him, he’d be set.

Kim, your interrogation is not subtle at all, and Korn knows it. But, he allows it because Kim expressing interest in the family makes it easier for him to draw his youngest back into the fold. But, that doesn’t mean he trusts his son.

“I’m more interested in what you’re thinking.” – cue the dramatic music. This honestly makes me question why Kim is investigating his father. The show never really gives us a motive for that, nothing to clearly explain what starts this obsession. Kim is obviously paranoid and suspicious of everything, but he got out of the family compound, and he’s living on his own. Usually that would mean you want nothing to do with the family, but Kim actively searches out what his father has done.

Time: 11:54 – 13:53 – Talking & not talking at the carp pond

The quick look at Kim that Khun does just before he walks on screen after quietly waiting for him is so meaningful. Khun is never quiet. But, he knows that Kim never comes home and treats him like a wild animal letting his youngest brother come to him. Once he’s acknowledged that’s when Khun gets loud.

Kim, your ass ain’t subtle. His casual walk by the carp pond that isn’t near the front entrance or garage. You wanted to check in on your brother just as much as your brother wants to check in on you. The lack of communication in this household

How in the hell did Kim get Chay’s phone number? And why is Chay just answering random numbers late at night?

Chay probably thought his wildest dream had come true :(

Time: 30:40 – 38:28 - Chay didn’t even get to eat the snacks

Porchay is so cute with his guitar next to his idol

Chay’s outfit: so begins the plaid shirt era. The blue looks good on him and it matches the subtle blue flowers on Kim’s jacket. He looks so soft.

Kim’s outfit: the blood-red velvet bomber jacket is such a good look on him! This is a Wik outfit through and through. Kim knows Chay is obsessed with Wik, so Wik is what Kim is going to give him. Why did this style only appear in one episode! Why is almost every other jacket a leather jacket! I need to know what his shirt says desperately. I need to analyze it.

Chay wandering around the studio very carefully not touching anything while being excluded from the conversation, little brother core

Kim preparing snacks, sorry sir but do you want Chay to fall in love with you right now? Giving someone food is an act of love (to me at least), and as a hungry teenager definitely to Porchay as well.

Not Chay immediately clocking that Wik taking him to a secluded, personal recording studio is a bit above and beyond

THE LITTLE HEAD TILT CHAY DOES WHEN KIM SAYS HIS NAME IS KIM

Sorry I’m calm now.

I LIED! THE WAY HE TILTS HIS HEAD TO READ WIK/KIM AND THEN KIM MIRRORS HIM!

“Any side would do. I like them all.” – You can actually see this hit Kim in real time.

Chay responding that it seems fun when questioned why he wants to study music. Yes, baby boy enjoy what you want to do in life. No joke Kim is not used to this level of blatant honesty. Chay has nothing to hide and why should he? He likes music and it's fun. That’s it.

“Let’s do it on your brother.” – Kim you are not slick. This is embarrassing!

CHAY’S HEAD TILT WHEN HE’S QUESTIONING HOW KIM KNOWS ABOUT PORSCHE! I AM UNWELL

Anyways, no Chay please don’t accept that awful explanation. I know Kim didn’t call you out for the all sides comment, but please! Stranger Danger! You can see Chay’s brain working through the excuses of Okay he let me be weird I have to let him be weird now because maybe he did see it, maybe this isn’t so weird. Kim, you are so lucky Chay likes you enough to be colorblind.

“I still feel like I can’t be like him.” – that’s a little heartbreaking considering Chay desperately wants to take some of the burden off of Porsche. Porsche who to Chay is the rock his whole life is built on.

I’m sorry Chay just giving Kim his phone. Are you not scared he’ll see your Wik stan account or your AO3 Chay?

The photos they chose for Chay’s catalogue are so cute. Why did I just now only notice that Porsche’s red shirt has a ton of cats on it? How much do you wanna bet that was a gift from Chay?

The texts to Porsche break my heart. Chay obviously knows his brother won’t respond, but he still needs the catharsis of talking to him because that was their dynamic before. They were always open and always there for each other

Chay has so much self-confidence and power. He wrote something in minutes and sees that his idol is trying to ditch him, but he still goes hold on mister please listen to what I wrote. That’s what being raised by bad bitch, don’t think about consequences, love is not a weakness Porsche Kittisawat is like.

You can see Kim realize that this kid is good and start screaming in his head before he joins in. Kim loves music, and even though every bit of him is screaming get this kid out he’s not useful, he can’t help but break open just a little bit

Their duet with their song! Kim you are never getting over Chay

Time: 39:52 – 40:34 – Bro shenanigans

Chay practicing so hard on his guitar! He really does love music and genuinely finds it fun!

The way he freezes when he see Porsche and then just runs to him! He missed his brother so much. He’s definitely been so lonely without Porsche, but he doesn’t show it to his brother.

The brother bonding montage. You can tell these two characters only ever had each other.

Chay’s Outfit: Chay is wearing a Tanjiro from Demon Slayer shirt (I would recognize that haori print anywhere), which holy shit costuming y’all are so wild for this one. Tanjiro sacrificing everything after his family died and Nezuko his sole surviving sibling becoming a demon. The green shorts paired with it are cute.

The focus on Chay monologuing and Porsche listening intently.

Chay going off on a school trip after being forced to by Porsche is so telling. Porsche doesn’t see his worth in other people’s lives. Chay desperately misses his brother, but allows Porsche to persuade him because it makes Porsche happy to see Chay live a good life, one that Porsche never got a chance to have.

Overall Chay Rating (Chrating): I’m going to give this episode an A.

I love the different sides we get to see of Chay here with both Kim and Porsche. He’s such a bright person. He’s not as naïve as some people think. He definitely saw Kim’s weird thing about Porsche, but he doesn’t see the worst in people and moves past it. He’s so happy seeing Porsche even though Porsche essentially abandoning him had to hurt. He chooses to be happy that his brother is home.

[spookymultimedia]

Small oneshot I made of Leia coming out to Nichole

Word count: 709

I laid on the bedroom floor of their girlfriends room and stared up at the ceiling from the cushy sleeping bag. I was ruminating about my gender again. I'm trans. I'm a transgender girl. Last week I had came out to Craig but I'm too scared to tell anyone else about it. I just don't want to disappoint people who knew me as a boy. I dunno.

“Hey,” Nichole whispered from her bed, “you awake?”

“Yeah.” I sat up. She turned on her bedside lamp. It was nearly 1 am on her alarm clock.

“Oh good because I can't sleep. Hold on,” she turned out the light and pulled out her pillow pet before turning the light on. The room had a soft pink glow. “there, now it's less obvious we're awake.”

 

“You've done this before huh?” I couldn't help a small giggle. 

“Uh yeah.” she slid off her bed and sat next to me.

I needed to tell her. I needed to tell her now. It was killing me keeping this a secret from her. She deserved to know the truth.

“Nichole.” I touched her hand.

“Yeah?”

My throat suddenly got all choked up. 

“Is there something you need to tell me?” she held my hand. Fuck. I love her so much. Tears pricked my eyes.

“What's wrong?”

“I'm scared you'll hate me.”

“Well what is it?”

“I'm not a boy.” 

“Oh. . .are you trans?”

“Yeah.” I rubbed my eye.

She pulled me into a hug. I hugged her back and leaned on her shoulder. I tried to stop crying but I couldn't stop.

“Why are you crying?”

“It's dumb but I'm scared you'd break up with me.”

“What? No, I'm pansexual. I don't care.”

I sat up holding her hands.

“But you fell in love with me as a boy, I thought you'd be disappointed that I'm not Tolkien.”

“No way, I just want you to be you. I love you. I like how genuine you are. I love how you're a good friend. I love your giggles. I love all of you.” she cupped my cheeks. I blushed.

“I love you too.” I mumbled in awe.

“Okay, so you want me to use she/her for you?”

“Uh, not yet, I'm not completely out to all my friends yet. But when I am out, yeah. She/her or they/them is cool.”

“Is that why you've been going by the name Tea lately?”

“Yeah. But it’s technically the first initial of my old name. I know I want something different but I haven't figured that out yet.”

“Okay.” She petted my hands. I smiled.

“Who else knows?” she asked. 

“Only Craig Tucker. I told him I hated being a boy.”

She nodded.

“Are you going to come out to your parents?”

“Probably. I'm just nervous I'll disappoint my Dad. I don't wanna tell him I hate the name he gave me or that I'm not his son anymore.”

“They're allies aren't they?”

“Yeah, they pro-lgbt. But I don't know.”

“Well my parents are supportive too, so you're safe here. I have a cousin who's trans and they love him.”

I nodded.

“You ok?”

“I just really don't feel at home in my body.” I mumbled.

“I could braid your hair sometime.”

I blinked wide eyed, “Really? You'd do that?”

“Yeah, when you're ready. Have you had  your hair different before?”

“Not really, no. I'm sick of looking at it.”

“Yeah, it sounds miserable. Being in a body that doesn't feel like yours.”

“It really is.” 

“Can I kiss you?” She mumbled.

“Yeah,” I giggled.

She kissed my cheek that made me giggle more.

“Sshhh!” She said trying to contain herself too. We stared at each other quietly for a moment.

“You're my girlfriend.” She said with a smile.

A glimmer of euphoria danced within me.

“Yeah.”

“We're girlfriends.”

“I sure hope people don't start drawing weird Yuri art of us.”

It was her turn to giggle as quietly as possible.

I yawned. 

“Oh I'm keeping you awake aren't I?”

“A little bit.” I rubbed my eyes.

“Sorry, yeah. We should really go to sleep.” She crawled up into her bed and turned off the light.

“Goodnight Tea.”

“Night.” I went to sleep feeling lighter than before.

[moonlightperseus]

a post 6x10 Chim coda / 652 words

Chimney’s hands shake as he goes for his phone, they haven’t stopped shaking since he stopped doing compressions—which he only stopped because it was Eddie who was right there, practically begging to take over for him—it feels like that was lifetimes ago as they’re all forced to wait in the too sterile waiting area. 

Hen and Bobby are both sinking into the just a little bit too uncomfortable chairs that they’ve all had just a little too much experience with and Eddie is pacing maddeningly back and forth in front of the doors they took Buck through as if his steps alone could manifest Buck walking back out through the doors perfectly fine. He however, heads to the other set of doors—the ones leading out of the hospital. 

Maddie’s contact is pulled up before he even gets to the little courtyard outside the hospital, his hands still shaking as his thumb hovers above the call button, he’s hesitating and he hates it, but he knows that once he makes the call, once he tells her, it will all be real. 

He can still feel the eerie stillness of Buck’s chest beneath his hands as he hits the little green button. 

Maddie picks up after the third ring, it feels like another lifetime passing by. 

“Hey you, aren’t you on shift? What’s—”

“Maddie,” his voice sounds wrong even to his own ears, Maddie falls silent immediately. 

“Maddie,” he says again, because a part of him is still delaying the all too terrible inevitable, “it’s Buck—he was up on the ladder and—he was hit—the lightning—I’m so sorry, Maddie, I tried—I couldn’t—his heart—I never should’ve let him climb the ladder, it should’ve been me—”

“Howie,” Maddie’s voice cuts across the phone line, “is he—”

The way her voice cracks breaks something in him, reminds him of that night, all those years ago when he had to tell the Lees their son wasn’t coming home, he tries to convince himself that isn’t what he’s doing now.

“He has a pulse,” he hears himself saying, “when the doctors took over he had a pulse again.”

Maddie lets out a shaky exhale, “okay, that’s—that’s good. Which hospital?”

It hits Chimney that he hasn’t even registered what hospital they’re at, he looks around for a sign, reading it off to her, “do you—I can come get you?”

“In the ambulance? No I’ll—I need to call my parents, their flight isn’t until late this afternoon, they’ll still—they’ll want to know, they’ll want to come.”

Chimney draws in a breath, he can hear the doubt in her voice, he hates that there’s any question to it, but knows this is not the time to callout Margaret and Phillip’s more than questionable parenting choices. Maddie needs him to be there for her, he can do that, if nothing else, he can do that.

“I’ll text Karen, see if she can come pick up Jee?” he pauses, “are you sure you don’t want me to come get you? Bobby won’t mind.” 

“I’m sure—just,” Maddie takes another breath, “be there for him? He—he’s always hated being alone at the hospital.”

“Of course,” he says softly, “we’re all here for him, I promise you he won’t be alone.”

“Thank you Chim—” there’s another pause, and the tremble a clear sign she’s started crying, “can you—if you get to see him—tell him I love him, yeah? Just incase I don’t—just tell him for me?”

“He knows that, Maddie, he knows how much you love him, but if I get to see him before you get here I’ll remind him. Just get here safe, okay? I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

The phone beeps to indicate the call has disconnected and Chimney takes a long, shaky breath. 

Buck isn’t Kevin, this won’t end like that, this can’t end like that. 

No one is losing a brother today.

Buck is going to wake up.

He has to wake up.