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#Round Wood Cutting Board
homwoody · 7 months
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The Homwoody Acacia Wood Cutting/Cheese Board is the perfect kitchen accessory for any home. It's made out of high quality acacia round wood cutting board which means that it is 100% natural so your food won't get contaminated by harmful chemicals. It can be used as Cutting board, Serving board, Pizza Peel, Coaster, and even a Home Decor item on wall, countertop or kitchen table.
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thethirdromana · 1 year
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More travels with Jonathan Harker, in pictures
Here's the route that Jonathan travels by the public coach today:
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I've tried to find copyright-free photos from the actual route, but I've not had much success. So this tour is going to be a lot more vibes-based than reflective of the actual sights out of the stagecoach window. Think of it like Jonathan's Transylvanian Pinterest board.
(Scenery photos are all of Transylvania, assuming I can trust the sites where I found them, but not necessarily the right time of year or the right bit of Transylvania. It's a big place.)
"Before us lay a green sloping land full of forests and woods, with here and there steep hills, crowned with clumps of trees or with farmhouses, the blank gable end to the road."
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"There was everywhere a bewildering mass of fruit blossom—apple, plum, pear, cherry; and as we drove by I could see the green grass under the trees spangled with the fallen petals."
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"In and out amongst these green hills of what they call here the "Mittel Land" ran the road, losing itself as it swept round the grassy curve, or was shut out by the straggling ends of pine woods, which here and there ran down the hillsides like tongues of flame."
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"Beyond the green swelling hills of the Mittel Land rose mighty slopes of forest up to the lofty steeps of the Carpathians themselves. Right and left of us they towered, with the afternoon sun falling full upon them and bringing out all the glorious colours of this beautiful range, deep blue and purple in the shadows of the peaks, green and brown where grass and rock mingled, and an endless perspective of jagged rock and pointed crags, till these were themselves lost in the distance, where the snowy peaks rose grandly."
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"As we wound on our endless way, and the sun sank lower and lower behind us, the shadows of the evening began to creep round us. This was emphasised by the fact that the snowy mountain-top still held the sunset, and seemed to glow out with a delicate cool pink."
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"By the roadside were many crosses, and as we swept by, my companions all crossed themselves."
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"Sometimes, as the road was cut through the pine woods that seemed in the darkness to be closing down upon us, great masses of greyness, which here and there bestrewed the trees, produced a peculiarly weird and solemn effect, which carried on the thoughts and grim fancies engendered earlier in the evening, when the falling sunset threw into strange relief the ghost-like clouds which amongst the Carpathians seem to wind ceaselessly through the valleys."
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And a bonus: Bran Castle is marked as 'Dracula's Castle' despite being even further away from the locations in the book than most of my vibes-based photography choices. It also doesn't resemble Bram Stoker's descriptions of the castle.
But more importantly, it looks really cool. So here it is:
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yeoldecorprusarium · 2 months
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Crashcraft's vintage sets in Cluedo colors
✿ This is for the sims 2 ✿
Here are recolors I made of various Cashcraft sets for use in Éclaire. I recolored only the objects I thought I'd like to use in my game, so not all of the sets are present in full.
Please also note that I wrote cluedo colors, and not woods. No way in hell I was going to handpaint all that to change the wood grain, sorry.
What's included?
✿ 6 objects from the Magnolia Hill Dining set (buffet, china cabinet, curio, hutch, mirror and sideboard);
✿ 6 objects from the Regency set (tea set, dining chair, cabinet, sideboard, china cabinet and armchair);
✿ 30 objects from the Vanity Fair sets (armchair, canopy, cash register (req. OFB), chaise, coffee table, curtain, desk chair, end table, footstool, handbag, hat, 3 lamps, mirror, parlor chair, perfume tray, round table, sewing basket, sewing clutter, cutting board, desk, screen, sewing shelf, worktable, sofa, tall cabinet and vanity);
✿ 7 objects from the Victorian set (chafing dish, chair, painting, sideboards, hutch and table);
✿ 5 objects from the Vintage Charm set (alarm clock, bed, books and 2 lamps).
DOWNLOAD (SFS)
Meshes, swatches and previews included, files compressed and clearly named.
✿ I renamed the meshes to remove any special characters, so check your download folder for duplicates manually if you already have Cashcraft's sets in your game.
Credits: Cashcraft, @cluedosims.
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heartateasee · 2 months
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PROMPT: (requested by @victoria-styles) “Y/N distracts Harry while he’s in the middle of writing a song.” - I’ve taken inspiration from this prompt, and I’ve tweaked it a bit! Instead, it’ll be Harry distracting Y/N during a work meeting over Zoom 🤭
- - - - - - - - - -
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Warnings: Not much really - slight talks of smut, and slight masturbation (m). Very brief dom play.
Word Count: 1.1k
“So for this meeting, we’ll be going over the goals for the next month, as well as the new structure that’s going to be put in place for us to achieve those goals,” you heard your boss’ voice flowing through the speakers of your laptop as you sat at your kitchen table.
With a cup of coffee next to it, as well as a notebook with a pen, you were all set for your monthly meeting with the bigwigs of your at home job.
You were slightly rushed this morning as you and Harry were up late. You had insisted on going to bed early considering you knew you had this meeting this morning, but only a few minutes after the two of you had laid down in bed, his toned body ended up slotted between your thighs - his thick cock plunging in and out of you.
In order to give you more rest, Harry had set your alarm back thirty minutes after you had fallen asleep. He knew that you typically gave yourself too much time in the morning. He wanted you to have your rest after the two of you had your way with each other.
To say you were pretty pissed off about him changing your alarm would be an understatement. You had woken up to him cuddled against your back, and you could feel his morning wood nudging against one of the rounds of your ass. It caused you to giggle, and just before you were about to slip your hand into his briefs to help him out, thinking you had the time to do so, you caught sight of the clock on the nightstand.
From there your morning felt completely chaotic. Between you rushing to put on a decent appearance, to Harry following you around like a lost puppy with a hard on, you were surprised you actually sat down at the table on time.
Thankfully you didn’t have to dress up, just pulling on a nice sweater over the t-shirt of Harry’s you had on sufficed as they could only see you from the shoulders up really.
As the meeting really started up, you began to take notes - looking down at your notebook fully as you listened and scribbled. When you looked back up, you caught sight of Harry walking through to the kitchen behind your laptop.
You could tell he was shirtless, something that wasn’t uncommon for him, and you figured he had just gotten out of the shower with the way the water was dripping from the ends of his curls.
It wasn’t until he made it past your laptop, and into the actual kitchen that you saw his bare, plump, little ass that you loved so much out of the corner of your eye.
You had gone to take a sip of coffee, and the sight of his bum caused you to sputter the liquid back into your mug.
“Y/N, everything okay?” Your boss spoke up as you choked, and you nodded before holding a finger up to mute yourself.
Continuing to cough, you knocked your fist against your chest as you looked back over to Harry, and you could see the smirk on his face as he stood at the counter - his sight set on the fruit he was chopping up on a cutting board.
He was going to stand there and make his morning smoothie.
Naked.
Your eyes couldn’t help but trail over his muscular frame as you continued to catch your breath, but they really honed in on the sight of his prick hanging between his thighs.
He had gotten himself off in the shower, and he wanted you to know.
Not only did he want to distract you from your meeting as punishment for leaving him high and dry, but he also wanted to rub it in your face that he didn’t need you to get himself off. He knew you knew what his cock looked like just a few minutes after coming.
The scoff that left you did manage to get his attention, and you made eye contact just briefly before you were turning your attention back to the screen - clicking yourself off of mute.
As the meeting continued, you completely ignored Harry, and you continued to take your notes as normal.
That however came to a halt when Harry revved up the blender, and you had to quickly throw your hand against your mouse to mute yourself once again.
“Harry!” You exclaimed over the noise of the appliance as you lowered your laptop screen - just a bit so your colleagues could no longer see your face. “You’re joking right?”
Harry squinted, and his eyebrows narrowed as he cupped one of his hands over his ear. “Sorry! What? I can’t hear you right now!”
Rolling your eyes, you huffed in annoyance, but you decided to go back to ignoring him - retrieving your headphones from your laptop bag that was in the chair next to you. You plugged them into your computer, and then shoved the earbuds into your ears as you continued to listen, but you kept yourself on mute.
Thankfully once Harry’s smoothie was finished, he stood in the kitchen - consuming it in silence.
You peeked over to him again after a few minutes to witness him cleaning up the kitchen, but then he turned around and caught your eyes on him.
Tongue pressed against the inside of his lower lip, you watched as one of his large, veiny hands traveled down his abdomen before wrapping around his shaft. His lips parted, and you couldn’t hear him due to your headphones, but you didn’t need to. You had that little gasp that he makes at the first bit of contact memorized.
“Alright everyone, that wraps up the meeting for today, are there any questions?” You heard someone in the meeting ask, but you didn’t even look back over.
You were completely fixated on the god-sculpted man, that you had the privilege of calling your boyfriend, in your kitchen as he worked his hand over his length to harden right in front of you.
“No? Well that’s that! If you think of anything, please just send one of us an email. Thank you all for your time, and we’ll see you again next month.”
The laptop was quickly shut, and the headphones were ripped from your ears as you pushed yourself up from the table before you quickly walked over to Harry.
Your hand wrapped around his wrist, causing his own hand to leave his growing cock.
“You’ve been extremely naughty this morning,” your voice was stern as you spoke to him, and you watched as his pupils dilated. “I expect you in the bedroom on your knees while I finish up my coffee, pup.”
Harry nodded slowly, and you released his hand so it dropped by his side before you continued to speak.
“That’ll give me time to figure out which punishment suits you best.”
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melancholymetropolis · 7 months
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Escapism.
plot: In which two lonely souls find each other in the middle of the woods
pairings: HeadlessHorseman!Nanami Kento x Reader
genre(s): Hurt with Comfort, Porn with Feelings
warnings: unedited (mostly). a load of crying from the reader. the headless horseman is an absolute gentleman. COURTING. gifts (f receiving). reader is a jokester. nanami is actually headless and the reader is scared of him at first. PIV SEX. fingering (f receiving). squirting. rounds and pounds. nanami falls first and HARD. he is covered in scars. traumatic past. lowkey its an "I can fix him" au. Couple's Banter.
w.c: 9.02k
The spare sunlight trickled from between the clouds and kissed the rippling water of the lake. The morning dew was still heavy in the air and it created a mist above the water. I broke through the milky terrain and debated whether I should catch up with my companions. They seemed to be miles away from me, engaging in some kind of conversation. By the smiles on their faces, it had to be one they both enjoyed. Perhaps pertaining to their blossoming relationship.
I wasn’t a fool. 
I could see the way they looked at each other. The love they shared grew every time we were together. The smiles never seemed to leave their faces when they were side by side. The lingering touches seemed far too intimate to have belonged to “just friends”. There was more going on than they let on. More than meets the eye. Yet, I couldn’t talk about it. I couldn’t mention it. I knew that the moment the question “Are you fucking?” came out of my mouth that I would be shamed. They would minimize my every observation and make me believe that I was seeing things. What made the notion worse was that they would immediately alter their behavior afterward. They would go back to being just friendly with one another and pretend like they weren’t engaging in a forbidden romance just before. 
 We were supposed to be celebrating my birthday and new promotion. Yet, here I was. Playing the third wheel to my so-called “friends”. There was an intense feeling of loneliness that drifted through me when I was around them. I almost felt excluded from my very own camping trip. I just didn’t connect with them like I used to. The moment the possibility of love came between them, they blocked out everything and everyone around them. They were so absorbed with one another that they didn’t see anyone else. They couldn’t see me— desperately trying to get their attention. So, for both my sanity and my dignity, I’ve decided to cut the trip short. At least, my participation in it. I was going to give the lovebirds all the room they needed to mess around.  I could no longer stomach the feeling of exclusion any longer.
A single tear rolled down my cheek and I quickly wiped it away. Removing the evidence of any notice of sadness on my face. 
Through the milky mist, I could Trista and Jessica boarding the doc. Their hands were tighter interlocked and their smiles were even wider than before. They were still too far ahead to hear their conversation, but I could tell it was a continuation of the funny one from earlier. 
I tore my eyes away from the couple and looked into the rippling water.
It was so inviting and pleasant.
I dropped the teary hand into the water without thinking. I swirled the digits into the clear pool and felt tingles slowly course through my body. Instead of providing a cool sensation, the tingles gave me a warm one. It made the water feel even more comforting. The emotional feeling was neither familiarity nor longing. It was neutral. Almost the feeling you get when you start a new relationship. Right after you discover that your potential suitor may not be an axe murderer. The moment you realized that they had the potential to be your one and only. The water felt, simply put, hopeful.
I kept quiet on the drive back to the cabin. I allowed the lovers and the radio to occupy all the space between us. My eyes drifted out the window, taking in the beautiful woodlands around us. My heart ached at the notion that I could never truly enjoy it. Six months of planning a fantastic rural getaway ruined by the people I held most dear. 
“Sorry to interrupt your jam session,” the radio host interjected, mid-song. “But, it was just brought to our attention that a massive mud lid has shaken Evergreen County. It has blocked off access to Route 78, meaning no one will be coming in or out of Evergreen until it is all clear.”
“That’s really unfortunate,” Trista said, clicking off the radio.
“Yeah,” Jessica replied, her eyes flicking over to me in the rearview mirror. “Good thing Y/N booked the cabin for the rest of the week and stocked the fridge, right?”
I gave her a weary smile and looked back out the window.
My plan of leaving was completely foiled. I was stuck with these damned lover birds until the roads were clear. My sadness was quickly replaced with anger beneath my skin. I didn’t have the energy to conceal my emotions anymore. I was incredibly tired of engaging in the activity and lacked the social battery to communicate with these women any longer.
“What with the long face, Y/N?” Trista asked, turning her head towards me. “Are you boat-sick?”
I nodded. “That must be what it is.”
“I’ll put on a pot of tea when we get back to the cabin, okay?” She cooed. 
I hummed in agreement. “That sounds good.”
“Maybe you should lay down for a bit, as well,” Jessica chimed in. “Just take the night off. Leave dinner to us for once.”
“Yeah! I can finally make that lasagna soup I was telling you about!” Trista squealed. “When I tell you guys it’s so good! I mean it is to die for.”
“I can’t wait to try it.”
I used the boat sick excuse to hole myself in my room for the rest of the night. My tolerance for their lies had reached its limit and I really wanted to be alone. After a quick shower to wash off the smell of the outside, I slipped into my favorite nightgown. It was a custom number from a Parisian seamstress, a birthday present to myself. The garment was made of deep mauve-colored silk with a lace neckline. It had been well fitted in the waist and thigh air— yet came down to my ankles like a silken waterfall. The seller was so kind to give me a matching robe and bonnet with my order; which I also wore to bed that night. I pulled the fluffy duvet up to about chest level, before lowering my eyemask. I relaxed all the muscles within my body and released the tension in my jaw. I took several deep breaths and rolled over to my side. 
However, neither one of these tactics seemed to work. 
I had laid in my bed for hours, unable to relax fully.
My mind was simply too busy to sleep. The sadness arose once more now that I was alone. There was a gnawing in my chest that I couldn’t shake. It had gotten worse the longer I held it in. The call/text for dinner had come and went eons ago. The faux bubbly persona of my friends had retired to their rooms and left me to my own vices. 
In desperate need of a change of scenery, I swung my legs from the edge of my bed and put on my slippers. I grabbed the chunky knit sweater that hung behind the door and slipped it on. I made sure to keep my footsteps light when walking through the hall. I didn’t want to wake Trista or Jessica. Both claimed to be really light sleepers, but I found that hard to believe. 
About halfway through the corridor, I realized that my actions were done in vain. Trista’s room had been right near the staircase and her door was cracked open. Pleasurable moans and sensual sighs oozed from the room. There was a subtle creaking sound from the old bedframe as well. I recognized Trista’s voice sending hushed praises to the other lover. Whispering to Jessica about how good at “it” she was and how she never wanted her to stop. 
Suddenly, the house felt entirely too small for the three of us.
My gentle footsteps carried me outside to the porch. I took a seat on the old rocking chair on the left and found myself looking up at the sky. I could not spot a single cloud in the sea of stars. The moon was full and gave everything around me an ivory tint. It was beautiful, for lack of a better word. It was the reason I decided to come to Evergreen County in the first place. I sat up in the rocking chair and placed my forearms on the railing. I allowed my chin to rest on the fleshy area and simply looked at the property around me. I took in the loud chirps of the crickets and the subtle twinkling of fireflies. I felt the cool breeze kiss my skin and the smell of pine invaded my nostrils. I tasted the fresh air on my tongue and felt it penetrate my lungs. With a deep breath, I tried to force all the negative shit out of me. I brought the pain from my chest and to my head. I finally let myself cry. 
After a few minutes, I realized that I was no longer alone. I could hear the sound of horse hooves clicking against the pavement. Coming up the driveway was, in fact, a horse. A massive black stallion with a mane that is only seen in fairy tales. Its shiny black coat sparkled in the moonlight and gave it an ethereal aura. Its steps were careful. Almost like it didn’t want to alert anyone of its presence. For that realization, I had to give all the credit to its rider— who was equally as large as the horse it seemed. He, too, was shrouded in all-black. His long, overcoat was tailored perfectly to his body. It accentuated his broad chest and shoulders. He had thick, long legs that hung on either side of the horse. He wore black, freshly shined boots on each gigantic foot. 
Although, it felt as though my eyes were deceiving me.
Despite how close the man was getting to me, I still couldn’t make out his head. I couldn’t make out the color of his hair or even get a general outline of his face. I squinted my eyes, desperately trying to catch a glimpse of something.
It wasn’t until the horse made it about six feet away from the house that I realized that I wasn’t going crazy. 
The lone horseman was completely headless.
A wave of fear coursed through my body and I felt myself rise from my chair. I made a beeline to the front door and yanked it open. I shoved my body inside the home and swiftly locked the door behind me. I could feel my heart pounding in my chest at the sound of his heavy boots climbing the porch steps. My breath had become uneven from the sounds of my erratic panting. My hands were trembling as I slipped the phone from my cardigan’s pocket and unlocked it. I pressed the little phone icon and began to dial for the police. 
But, then, the moment I went to press the phone to my ear, I heard the sound of receding footsteps. 
It took all the courage in me to crawl to the window and peer out of it. I had caught a swift glimpse of the horseman mounting his horse, before directing it back down the driveway. Just as swiftly as they appeared the man and his horse disappeared. Leaving me alone once again. I took the phone away from my ear and hung up the call. After another minute or so, I unlocked the door and stepped onto the porch. I looked back at the driveway once more; a frugal effort to ensure that he was truly gone. 
He was.
As much as I wanted to ponder why out of all places he came here, to my cabin, I couldn’t. The reason was sitting directly in front of me. Just three feet from the door sat my ring. A friendship that Trista and Jessica both wore as well. We had gotten them right after graduating college. It was a vow to always stay true to one another and to work things out when things had gotten hard. It felt more like an empty promise these days though. I didn’t even notice I had lost the gold band. My mind must’ve been so numb from their fallacious activities that it didn’t even process that it was gone. Even if I had, I probably wouldn’t have looked for it. It didn’t matter to me anymore.
Next to the ring sat a bouquet of wildflowers. The huge bundle was made up of blue and white blossoms. Their scent was sweet and clean. It eased into the nostrils and hardly ever lingered. It made my heart flutter ever so slightly; temporarily lifting the sorrow from it. A tingling sensation bloomed within my chest. It was almost identical to what I had been feeling in the lake earlier when I had put my hand in the water. The tingles gave me comfort. Almost like I had been experiencing the beginnings of a new relationship. As much as I wanted to be mad at the feeling, I couldn’t. My capacity for feeling my emotions had already been filled to the brim. I no longer had the mental space to process this ordeal. I would simply have to wait until I was no longer burnt out to confront the horseman.
Every night the headless stranger would stop by. And every night he would bring me a gift. It was usually in the form of flowers. Fragrant and wild. They filled the small cabin with their scent and added a homey feel to the place. The flowers were a wonderful distraction from the loneliness that remained in my heart. They brightened the rainy days and gave me something to hope for. The mudslide had seemed to have gotten worse with the constant showers. More and more debris had filled the road, making it even harder to leave. The rain had limited our outdoor activity, as well, and forced me inside the force. I couldn’t even use the beautiful scenery to distract from the betrayal anymore. I was trapped. 
By the fourth night of spending a whole day pretending to be fine, I found myself on the porch once again. There were no tears in my eyes that time, though. I was all cried out. The sadness had moved from my heart and unrooted an emotion I tended to avoid: anger. I started to become angry that my “friends” had thought so little of me; how they had the gall to sneak around right under my nose and think it was perfectly acceptable to do so. 
I don’t know if it was being trapped in the house or the cold, rainy days, but I could hear them messing around almost every night. I heard almost every pleasurable sigh, bed creak, and intense squeal through my very thin wall. It was so infuriating. I wanted nothing more than to just bang on the wall and ask them to stop. Or, at least, take it down to the basement where I wouldn’t hear them. There was an escape from their constant torment. It wasn’t the loving glances and gentle hand brushes in the day— then it was the aggressive humping and loud moaning at night. I was reminded of their betrayal every second of the hour and I was slowly losing my mind because of it.
I was so deep in thought on the fourth night that I didn’t notice the horseman’s presence, until after he placed the flowers on the porch’s steps. Their bright yellow petals had torn me from my reverie and brought me back to reality. The hulking figure had stood several paces away from the steps. His hands were crossed against his chest and there was a slight tilt in his body. If he had a face, I imagined it could have been a quizzical look upon it. He’d seemed rather confused, yet intrigued at the sight before him. The image of a relatively young woman, adorned in a silk nightgown and robe, pacing back and forth on a front porch. It was way past midnight and the air was borderline arctic. Yet, she still decided to wear a fashionable outfit while mumbling to herself like a crazy person. I am sure any given person would have stopped and stared at me if they had the chance. Even if they had been a ghost.
I nearly jumped out of my skin when the realization of his presence finally hit me. 
“Jesus fucking Christ!” I hissed, taking a step back. “Where the hell did you come from? Sneaking up on me like a ghost in the night.” 
I mumbled the last bit under my breath, but the headless horseman seemed to have heard it anyway.
He gestured to his body, lifting both hands up and down at the same. Almost as if to say, “Don’t you see me? I am the ghost in the night.” The last part was solidified by the gesturing of the empty space between his shoulders; right where his head was supposed to be. The movements were playful. Some would say they were even comical, but they still didn’t get much out of me. Not a laugh, nor a giggle. Just a slight smirk and a shaking of my head.
“I’m gonna have to get you a bell or something so I know you’re close by.”
He gestured to the massive black stallion tied to a nearby tree.
“Oh yeah. . . I forgot about that. Good point,” I replied, scratching the back of my head. “I really must’ve been out of it, huh? I didn’t even hear the heavy hooves of that big ass horse over there. Well, shit. I really made myself an easy target, didn’t I?”
The horseman gestured to his belt. It carried several weapons, such as an axe and a revolver. The second movement was something I didn’t realize he knew. He puffed out his chest and placed his hands on his hips. He assumed the Superman stance— the pose made more clear by the way his jacket blew back in the wind. That was something I couldn’t help but smile at. It seemed that he had been trying his best to make light of the situation. From the comical gestures to how he stood a good five feet away from the porch. It felt like the horseman didn’t want to impose, but he also didn’t want me to dwell on something so upsetting. The realization had struck a chord with me. The fact that a ghost could pick up my change in attitude and my friends did not was eye-opening. It was downright alarming. It just solidified to me that they had truly been on another planet. Never mind the fact that I had only officially met the headless stranger several days prior. 
“So, you’ll protect me, hmm?” I said, crossing my arms over my chest and tilting my head. “And to what do I owe the pleasure?”
The being lowered his hands to his hips and took several paces to the porch steps. He lifted the bouquet from the polished wood and gently passed the bundle to me. I took the yellow daisies and brought them to my nose. Their scent was fresh and inviting— almost like new love. There were hints of chamomile within its petals, although I couldn’t stop the little flowers anywhere. I watched as the hulking figure lowered himself onto one knee and placed a hand on his chest. He outstretched the other towards me, his fingers spread and his gloved palm open. 
The love confession, as simple as it may be, made my heart flutter.
It hadn’t taken long for me to realize just how meaningful the horseman was. He relied heavily on his actions to perpetuate his feelings. He didn’t seem like the kind of man to tell a lover white lies to pass the time. Perhaps it was the absence of his head that forced the notion, but I appreciated all the same. He seemed authentic and raw in his sentiment. He probably couldn’t lie, even if he wanted to. The movements of his figure would give it away. It was easy to lie using your vocal cords, it was even harder to lie through body language. The more I thought about it, the more I understood why I had entertained this attraction for the past several days. Not only did it serve as a distraction from my dishonest vacation buddies, but it felt genuine. It felt so fucking real in a world of grey skies and black smoke. The Headless Horseman was the only one expressing his true self these days, the only one unable to lie to me. Although, I am pretty certain he wouldn’t want to if he had the option. He was a gentleman above anything else, and he wasn’t the type of guy to misdirect his lady.
 The longer I looked at him, the more my heart pounded. A million thoughts exploded through my mind at once. The main one was how I only had two more days left of this vacation and how I would probably put this place behind me— due to the unfortunate actions of my friends. It almost saddened me that I would never be able to see someone as sweet as the horseman again. It was truly insane how a ghost knew the art of courtship better than the living, breathing humans I accompanied on the daily. Yet, I digress. The second thought was of my friends upstairs. There was no doubt in my mind that the act they were engaging in was somewhere between sinful and unholy. They had been fucking like rabbits since the mudslide happened. However, the judgment in my being was beginning to subside. 
Sure, I didn’t hand a human participant to engage in such disgusting activities.
But, I did have a ghost.
A sexy one, at that.
Call it petty, but, I had a  sudden taste for vengeance.
“Mister Horseman?” I hesitated. 
He rose from the ground and took several steps closer to me. It was just until his shins were touching the bottom step of the porch. Still, he opted to keep his distance. Just like the gentleman he was.  Even after all that time, he worried he might scare me. 
I lowered the flowers back onto the floor and proceeded to untie my silk robe— ever so slowly. I allowed the garment to fall to the crooks of my elbows and expose my bare shoulders. My nipples pebbled in the cool night air and a shiver crept down my spine. I saw his body tense at the sight of my exposed skin and his hand balled into a fist. Hollow breaths fell from my lips as I took several steps back. They weren’t out of fear, no. They were to add to the art of seduction. I pulled the silk bonnet off my head and allowed my goddess braids to flow down my back. I saw his chest rise and fall at a rapid rate. Despite him having no head, it seemed that the horseman was struggling to breathe. It was an intriguing sight.
“Allow me to be the first to say that the feeling is mutual,” I said, breathlessly. “I, too, hold a certain affection for you.”
His body leaned closer and began to tremble after digesting the words. 
“However, unlike you, I was not blessed enough to show my talents through crafts,” I said, gesturing to the bouquet on the ground. “I was blessed in other ways. Ways that I can only show you upstairs, in my bedroom. And I would have no problem showing you—”
His gloved hands were on my body before I could finish the sentence. I could feel the cool leather through the soft silk against my hips. He held the plush area firmly, hesitant to bring any lower. The horseman was testing the waters, attempting to see just how comfortable I was with him. I brought his palms lower and slid them to my backside. I guided them to my plump rear and assisted in his grabbing of it. A soft gasp fell from my lips as I felt him reciprocate the action on his own. Gently, he massaged the plump muscle, bringing my body slower the longer he did it. About thirty seconds later, my chest was pressed against the top of his abdomen, and my arms were drabbed over his shoulders. 
“Let’s go upstairs,” I purred, pulling away to open the door. 
The horseman, quickly, pulled me back against his body and lifted me in one fell swoop. My thighs rested on either side of his slender waist and ankles locked just above his rear. My arms immediately gripped his shoulders, while one of his arms wrapped around me— holding my body completely steady. He used his other hand to open the front door quietly and let us both inside the cabin. He took careful steps; I could barely hear his footfalls on the hardwood floor. 
“My room is upstairs,” I whispered. “It’s the third door on the left.”
The horseman took silent steps up the creaky old stairs. Both hands were around me now. He caressed my back sweetly as we ascended to my room. If he had a mouth, I was sure he’d hum a loving tune in my ear. My heart couldn’t help but sway at the action. It had only been a few minutes of him embracing me and I was already starting to fall for him. Maybe it was loneliness or the betrayal that left me so sensitive, but I couldn’t help myself. The horseman was simply too impactful.
However, the temporary bliss was cut short by the sight of Trista’s cracked door. Just as I had expected, lustful sounds danced from within the room and caressed my ears. I could feel my expression immediately drop at the sound. My inference had been correct. They were still, in fact, fucking like rabbits. As much as I would’ve loved to side my expression, I couldn’t. The horseman's face, or lack thereof, was right next to mine— meaning that he saw everything. 
Instead of simply ignoring it, he gripped my body tighter and took quicker steps down the hall. He, still, didn’t make a sound. He walked right through my open door and gently lowered me onto the bed. He stood before me for several seconds, taking in the sight before him. A significantly smaller woman, adorned in lace and silk, with a face stricken with sorrow. I doubt that it was a pretty sight, though his actions said otherwise.
The horseman shrunk down to the floor before me and placed his hands on my knees. He slowly pushed them apart. Unlike the men before him, the horseman didn’t dive right in and reach for the slick lips underneath my silk skirt. He placed his body between my separated thighs and placed his hands on my hips. Gently, he moved them up my soft sides and back, just before stopping at my collarbones. With the cool leather of his glove, he caressed the soft area. The horseman gradually moved his embrace up my neck and to my jaw. His thumb ran across my bottom lip tenderly and sent shivers through my body. His other hand gripped the side of my face and started to brush against my cheek. I felt my eyes close at the action. My heart was warm and my mind was beginning to ease. The irritating sounds from earlier had left my mind and been replaced with a sense of tranquility. It was strange how someone so mythical was able to get such a reaction out of me. Especially after just knowing him for a few days.
“Let me feel you,” I said, opening my eyes. “Let me feel your skin against mine.”
The word “please” lingered after those sentences, but I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud. I wasn’t the kind of woman to beg anyone to do anything for me. And I wouldn’t be starting now.
I felt him tense at the rest, almost as if he hadn’t expected it. Or, he just didn’t want to do it. Yet, he still obliged with my request.
Slowly, the ghost removed his hands from my face and placed them on my lap. He started on his right hand; pinching each finger and pulling it away from the skin. When each digit was loose, he pulled the glove off his hand with an air of hesitation. Clumsily, the leather garment was removed from his palm and tossed aside. Underneath was a stark, pale, icy-cold hand covered in an array of scars. His fingers seemed to be trembling slightly. His sensitivity to rejection was prevalent and made itself known to me. I took the massive palm into my hands. I bent the fingers at the knuckles just slightly before pressing a sweet kiss on the chilly surface. My eyes instinctively zeroed in on the empty space his head used to be. I stared at it, imagining it was actually there. 
“You’re beautiful,” I found myself saying. “Scars and all. I accept you as you are. Thank you for sharing your body with me.”
A wave of relaxation overtook his rigid demeanor. His body eased into the confines of my own, before wrapping his arms around my waist tightly. It was a simple hug, yet it felt like so much more. It was the only way he could possibly show affection without easing into a carnal activity. The absence of lips had made this rendezvous so much more difficult. I wanted nothing more than to press my mouth against his and press his against mine. I wanted my hands to be in his hair, while he roamed underneath my skirt and beneath my thighs. I wanted to be as close to him as physically, and maybe spiritually, possible. But, I had to settle for a hug instead. I wrapped my arms around the undead man tightly and simply took in the moment.
Upon releasing me from the embrace, the horseman pressed a tender hand to my chest and pushed my body back. It was until my back hit the mattress. Then, he slowly pushed the wrinkled, skirt from my ankles up to my rear. I placed the bottoms of my feet at the edge of the bed, just to give him more access. Nestled between two soft thighs was my womanhood. Damp, curly, and absent of panties.  The grip that the horseman had on my thighs firmed and I watched his chest expand. Almost as if he were holding his breath. He quickly removed the second glove before getting to work. The icy finger brushed against the hot vulva and caused me to shiver. A pleasurable sigh fell from my lips as I relaxed completely atop the bed. 
His gentle digits proceeded to separate the lower lips and expose the sensitive bud beneath. Before touching the throbbing clit, the horseman slid his thumb along my slit. He gathered all the lovely slick my walls produced on the thumb’s pad, before swirling it along my bud. I hissed at the feeling of his finger against me. The cold sensation was making my walls spasm a little. He rubbed my bud in large circles. The horseman added just the right amount of pressure to have me moaning up a storm. At some point, I lowered my bent knees to a wide ‘v’ shape and gave him more access to me. My hips rolled and bucked against his hand, desperately wanting more than he had to offer. Like a friendly visitor, one of his fingers tapped against my entrance. It was his silent way of asking for my permission.
“Yes,” I sighed. “Put it in.”
The thick finger eased into the slick center and I felt my world come crashing down. The coolness of his digit in my hot crevice was something I couldn’t mentally fathom. It was foreign and almost bizarre, yet I couldn’t stop myself. It swiftly became addicting. The horseman added another finger and flexed the digits upward— pressing directly against the g-spot. My legs twitched and my breath started to hollow. The movements of his fingers were stern, not rough. They were meant to hammer the sensitive area— they were supposed to massage it. The skill in his fingers was something of a legend. They stretched the walls within, ever so gracefully. They prepped me for the awaiting member I already caught a glimpse of moments before. From the imprint it made on his trousers, it was big and girthy. It would probably tear me in half without the right preparation. Yet, despite how intimidating the semi-hard member seemed through the fabric, I couldn’t have been more excited about it.
The orgasm was deep and erotic. And completely took me by surprise. It unearthed something divine within my womanhood and presented it to the horseman. My back arched against the bed as my mouth grew wider. My moans bounced on the walls as the orgasm nipped at my heels. The warm sensation in my belly grew wider until my entire body was on fire as a result. My fingers dug into the bedsheets as my toes curled and my body shook. My eyes were squeezed shut and my breathing grew erratic. My legs twitched and vibrated against the horseman’s forearm. He had to remove the thumb from my clit to hold my left leg.
“Oh Dear God. . .” I slurred as my eyes rolled to the back of my head.
The movements of his hands never stopped, they only made the orgasm longer and more powerful. I was seeing stars in my mind as my slick coated his hands. Thick cream oozed from my cunt as my body started to settle against the mattress. The after-effects of the climax started to wear down on my nerves. After some time, the ghost removed his cool finger from my center. He massaged the soft flesh of my thighs for a little while, before rising to his crouched position on the floor. I plopped my body onto my elbows and watched as he began to disrobe. The heavy, wool cloak was removed from his broad shoulder. Underneath was a stark white shirt and silk suit vest. Slowly, the ghost undid the buttons of both garments. Taking special care of the flawless pieces as he did so. Just as his hands, his chest was covered in an array of scars. They are arranged in size, shape, and depth. My heart sunk at the sight of them in the pale moonlight.
It was unclear whether or not he received them all at once, but one thing was certain. The Headless Horseman had a very rough life. Underneath the scars was a body I hardly expected. Almost every muscle along his figure was pronounced. From his rock-hard abs to his rippling arm muscles. Every last one was on perfect display for me to see. And what a beautiful sight it was. 
His shoes were the next thing to come off. Followed by his pants. It felt like that bit was in slow motion. He unbuckled the silver belt buckles and undid the closure with ease. Slowly, as if he knew I was watching, the horseman pushed his pants down his thick thighs and forced them into a puddle on the floor. Just as I expected, the member was big and girthy. It seemed the nickname “horseman” was a double entender. Even in the pale moonlight, I could see the pre-cum leaking from his slit. It painted the brown tip gloriously and made it glisten. One of his wide palms inched down to his member and took a firm hold of it. I watched him stroke the member slowly. It felt like he was seducing me. Fortunately for him, it was working. He took several slow steps toward my body, I could feel my heart pound in response. Before we did any more damage to my favorite nightie, I lifted the silk garment off my body and tossed it aside. I, also, scooted back against the bed; in able to give the horseman more room to work. 
The ghost proceeded to crawl against the fluffy mattress, flexing every muscle in his body as he did so. Groans left my mouth at the sight. I had never seen something so sexy in my life. Before long, his cool hands were pressed against my thick form once more. In one swift motion, the horseman spun me on my stomach and angled my hips in the air. I didn’t even have time to process what was happening, since his hands were palming my ass. He squeezed and massaged the soft tissue in a way I didn’t expect. He seemed completely mesmerized by it. Maybe it was the size or how soft it felt in his grip, but the horseman couldn’t get enough. 
I giggled at the notion. “You could give it a smack if you want,” I said, wiggling my hips against his palms. “I won’t mind.”
The ghost paused the massaging of the rear and hesitantly raised his hand from my right cheek. He proceeded to give me the softest spank I had ever received in my life. I couldn’t help but erupt in a fit of laughter.
“You can do better than that,” I chuckled. “I’m a big girl, horseman. I handle a little pain.”
With a firm hand, the horseman spanked my ass once again. The feeling was somewhat indescribable. I had never been one for experiencing pain during sex, but being with him was starting to make me think otherwise. The sheer sting of the hit was enough to make my walls clench. He seemed to have noticed it as well. A shocked moan fell from my lips when the horseman did it again. That time, it was placed on the left cheek. A buzz of electricity coursed through my being with the second hit. My walls were oozing for him to invade them. The desire to be torn apart by the horse cock between his legs was growing greater by the second. The closer our bodies became, the more I wanted him. There was a force that was drawing us together. Something completely mythical and absolutely otherworldly. It felt like it was trying to tell us something. 
But, I couldn’t decipher the message.
At least, not yet.
The moment he sunk into me I could feel my nerves begin to sing. The coldness of his body against my hot one was something divine. I pressed my face deeper into the pillows as he gave me everything he had. And it was a lot. It stretched me in either direction and made my canal spasm as a result. His cock pushed against every pressure point within my womanhood and I knew, then, that it would simply destroy me. I brought a shaky hand between my thighs as he started to rock against me. I rubbed my bud in lazy circles, a frugal effort to aid in my adjustment to his size. Low mewls fell from my lips as the thrusts started to increase in speed. The horseman had both hands on my hips as he moved against me. His hips rolled against my ass in a wave-like motion. The horseman didn’t seem interested in ‘fucking’ me, per se. He had no interest in giving me all that he had and shoving me into the mattress. When he moved against me, it didn’t feel like he was using my body. I didn’t feel like a tool to assist in his cardinal desires. He treated me like a prize; as if I was the main attraction. Even without a mouth, the horseman had communicated his intentions clearly. 
He wanted me as a potential lover, not as a passing phase.
His actions— from the beautiful bouquets to the way he fingered me— were an act of courtship. Even with his member buried in my pussy, the ghost was still courting me. The rolling of his hips against my cunt and the soft grip on my hips were examples of that. Again, the horseman had no intention of ‘just’ fucking me. He wanted more. So, this little rendezvous was the perfect opportunity to express that. Rather than use me like a living, breathing fleshlight, the horseman decided to make love to me. He was proposing what a union could be like between us. Without saying a word, the horseman was explaining to me that I was capable of having both a lovely companion and a seductive paramour. He showed me that it was possible for me to have a gentleman that would get me flowers, and fuck me within an inch of my life. 
Suddenly, a warm sensation started to flutter about my body. It gave me an air of comfort that I never experienced before. It gradually started to pool in my stomach, making my tummy feel warm in the process. The muscles in my body started to tense up and my grip on the mattress tightened. The breath in my throat grew thicker and my eyes fell shut. The gentle sound of the wind was the only thing to grace my ears. Every other sound drifted away. I could no longer hear the bed creaking beneath us, or the headboard hitting the wall. I wouldn’t hear my desperate gasps or the sound of our wet bodies hitting each other. Most importantly, I couldn’t hear the sapphic lovers enjoying themselves next door. At that point, their union no longer mattered to me. It was swiftly becoming something old and stale. Their betrayal was the most mundane thing to happen since we entered Evergreen County. In less than a week, I had a natural disaster grace my path, discovered that mythical beings existed, and was actively pursued by one. Not only that, but he was a better lover and companion than everyone before him.
Maybe I was entering my fifth stage of grief or maybe I was delusional, but I was swiftly getting over it.
“That’s it. . .” I grunted, my body still tense. “Keep going. . . I’m so close.”
The ghostly gentleman squeezed my hips tighter at the request. He kept his deep, seductive pace— not changing it one bit. If the arrangement was different, if he had a head, I knew the horseman would be the kind of guy to talk me through it. He’d whisper sweetnothings in my ear, calling me “beautiful” and “gorgeous”, while turning me into a slobbering, cock-hungry slut. He’d have a tongue like a snake, sneaky and deceptive. The horseman would never get rid of me if I could hear him speak. I’d never leave Evergreen County, even if my life depended on it.
The water in the shallow pool slipped over the edge and sent me into a spiral. The orgasm was deep, slow, and soul-wrenching. It unearthed something downright feral from my being. A low, groan poured from my mouth as I subconsciously threw my hips back to meet his. My mouth hung open like a bitch in heat and drool poured from the side of my mouth. My eyes rolled back until the whites were the only thing visible.  Oxygen came rushing into my throat all at once. My throat started to heave and my heart began to pound in my chest. It was so loud. It began the only thing I could hear for a short while. 
I didn’t even register that the horseman had changed positions. He hoisted my body from the bed and pressed my back against his chest. He hooked his left arm across my body and gently cupped my right breast in the process. His right arm wrapped around my waist, while his right hand gripped my hip. The ghost sunk back on his heels and separated his thighs a little bit more. My ass sat comfortably on his lap and his cock felt deeper than before. My walls were still fluttering when he started to move. The pace was faster than before. His hips moved like a piston, almost mechanical and precise. I could feel the head of his cock hammer the underside of my cervix. The pleasure point was getting obliterated at record time. The warm, fuzzy post-orgasm feeling had swiftly left my body. It was replaced with a burning hot desire that I, sadly, recognized. It was a feeling I had grown accustomed to in the short time our bodies were joined. The horseman was the only being to make me feel such cardinal desires. He was the walking epitome of sex, despite not having a head. Sex with him didn’t feel like a chore. It was an experience. An activity both parties could enjoy. And I was enjoying myself more than he could ever know.
It wasn’t long before his quick, machine-like thrust turned sloppy and clumsy. I could feel his lips begin to twitch the longer he pounded into my pussy. He was reaching his limit. I could feel the rapid pace at which his chest rose and fell against my back. It was a strange feeling, to say the least. At the front of my mind, I knew the horseman wasn’t alive. I knew he was a ghost, a headless one at that. However, I couldn’t process the feeling of humility I had gotten from him. The coldness I first felt when he touched me was no longer present. His body felt warm and inviting. It even had a thin sheet of sweat on it, just like mine. It could have been the crazy sex hormones coursing through my body, but it felt like the horseman was slowly becoming human.  
I didn’t have to time to analyze the thought any further before the third climax came knocking at my womanhood. It was somehow even more powerful than the ones before. My entire body trembled as I came undone against the horseman. A loud, pleasurable scream flowed from my lips as I threw my head back. My hips bucked against his lap as liquid shot out of my cunt and coated his rod. My nails dug into his warm flesh as I rode out my high. The massive member began to vibrate and twitch within me. Shortly afterward, thick ropes of cum coated my slick walls. I groaned at the sensation. The horseman continued to pound into my used pussy until he physically couldn’t anymore. His body, also, trembled and shook against mine. The lasting effects of overstimulation eating away at his feral demeanor. His sloppy thrusts came to a slow stop and his arms loosened their grip. 
The horseman repositioned our bodies for the final time that night. 
With both of us on our sides and my face buried in his chest— I had never felt more content in my life.
I awoke to a gentle kiss placed on my forehead. Followed by another on the tip of my nose and one on each eyelid. A soft hand readjusted the silk bonnet on my head, before capturing the side of my face in its palm. It was warm, familiar, and inviting. I found my sleepy form leaning into it, nestling against it for comfort. Slowly, my tired eyes eased open. The bright sunlight forced me to immediately shut them and groan in annoyance. The thumb, attached to the warm palm, gently caressed my face. It stroked my cheek lovingly, before moving over to my lips. Tenderly, the digit ran across my bottom lip; sending shivers through my body once again.
Once again?
The memory of the horseman’s gentle fingers immediately came to mind. How they caressed my face and neck, before easing down to my cunt. The feeling of his thumb running against my lips was identical to the sensation I was feeling now. But, something was different about it. There wasn’t a sadness in the touch as it was before— only anticipation. As if he was waiting to finally kiss me after the night we had. That would’ve been impossible, given his current disposition. It would be impossible to share a kiss with the horseman since he was without the equipment necessary to achieve said embrace. Unless he managed to grow a head at some point during the night—
“Open your eyes, darling.” The voice was deep and smooth, like an aged wine. It brought pleasure to my eardrums and made my heart sing. 
Upon easing my eyes open, I was graced with the most beautiful man I had ever seen. The warm sunlight gave his pale skin an ethereal glow. His deep, brown eyes shined like ambers in the light. He had high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Resting above a very pronounced chin was a pair of plump lips. They were soft and had a pinkish hue to them. Above them was his nose; it was straight and came to a subtle point. The shape of his eyes was narrow and just above them were a set of thin, blond brows. They matched the messy blond hair atop his head. 
A smile spread upon his lips. “Good Morning, little owl,” he purred, pressing another kiss to my forehead. “How did you sleep?”
I matched the smile on his face. “I slept well,” I replied. “It’s great to finally see you. All of you.”
“And what a marvel it is to be seen by you,” he hummed, lovingly. 
Hesitantly, I raised a gentle hand to his face. My warm fingers brushed against his plump lips; a weak attempt to determine if I had been dreaming.
I was not. This was all 100% real.
“You know,” I started, combing through his soft locks. “I have a lot of questions about. . . this.”
“I’m sure you do,” he smirked. “And I am more than happy to answer every last one of them.”
“Quite the charmer you are,” I quipped. “I bet you have all the ladies losing their heads over you.”
A deep, guttural laugh erupted from the man above me. It warmed my heart.
“You are quite the jokester, aren’t you?” He replied when he finally died down. “On the contrary, it was the exact opposite. I lost my head for a lady.”
A frown took over my face. “I’m sorry.”
The horseman used the awkwardness of the conversation to adjust his position above me.  He slumped into the space on my left side and pulled me closer. His stronger arms cradled my soft body against his hard one. My bare chest was pressed against his and our legs were intertwined. It was painfully obvious that we were both quite naked underneath the covers. I could feel a familiar friend begin to twitch against my right thigh. I would be lying if I said I wasn’t ready for another round. Sure my body was on fire and there was a subtle ache in my walls, but the feeling of that man against me was something I wanted to relive. Especially now that I had something to look at.
The horseman was so pretty that it fucking hurt my feelings.
“It was a long time ago,” he sighed, stroking my cheek. “I hardly ever think about it anymore.”
“But. . .” I hesitated. “How were you able to wander around without your head?”
He thought for a minute. A sour look overtook his look of contentment. There was also a hint of shame in his eyes as well. Whatever he was about to say, he was deathly embarrassed about it.
“I made a bargain with the forest guardian as I was dying,” he admitted after some time. “I asked her for a chance to walk the earth again. To experience the love I had just previously lost again. Even after all she had done, I still loved my wife and I wanted to get back to her. The forest guardian must’ve been sympathetic and granted me one more night on this plane. In exchange, I was to be her servant and guard the north side of the forest until she no longer needed me. However, like most bargains, there would be a catch. I was to remain headless and walk the forest until the end of time.”
“But, what changed?” I asked, hanging on the edge of my seat. “Why do you have a head all of a sudden? After all that time has passed?”
The warm smile from earlier reappeared on his lips and the horseman pulled me closer. “You came into my life and changed everything.”
“How?” I said. “I didn’t even do anything.”
“That’s the point. You did nothing to warrant such devious actions from your friends, yet you still got betrayed. As did I,” he answered. “We share a pain known to many but not often spoken about it. The loss of a community. I could feel that pain the day you were in the boat. It drew me to you. I watched you cry from the shadows and my heart bled for you. I wanted to make you feel better by any means necessary and I heard flowers would do the trick.”
“So you started making me bouquets,” I interjected.
The horseman nodded. “But, I think it was your acceptance of me that freed me from servitude. Your words last night were genuine, along with your actions. You meant what you said and it thawed my frozen heart. I no longer wanted to live in solitude, roaming the forest for the rest of eternity. I wanted to be in love. You made me want to love again.”
I raised a shaky hand to his cheek and stroked it lovingly. “This is a lot to take in. There’s so much I to say, but I don’t even know where to start.”
“How about we start with our names?” The horseman suggested. “My name is Nanami Kento. What’s yours?”
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a/n: long time no see! I missed y'all! this took longer than i expected, but i hope it is to your linking. please give you sis some feedback! i wanna hear what you think. also, please vote for what piece you'd like to see me upload next!
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readingcoco · 5 months
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Mood board credit: @rivetingrosie4
So after months of reading everyone else's work, I finally got round to finishing this one shot inspired by the wonderful @rivetingrosie4! It's the first thing I have ever written so any critique will be highly cherished. This is hopefully a good practice run for a longer story I will be working on for the rest of the year.
Taglist: @photo1030, @rivetingrosie4, @redwritr
🍑PEACH FLESH🍑
Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI | 5067 words | Ao3 Link TAGS: Plus-Size Reader, Oral Sex, Fake Marriage, Internalised Fatphobia, Squirting
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The door almost swings off its hinges as you and Arthur stumble into the second-best suite Strawberry’s Welcome Centre has to offer. Despite being a dry town, you were both half cut and giddy from the two bottles of brandy shared over dinner with the newlyweds you hoped to rob blind first thing in the morning. 
The room is womb-like, lit dimly with low wooden ceilings and dark red baroque wallpaper lining each wall, in the centre stands a grand four poster bed adorned with more blankets than you know what to do with, set diagonally facing a little wood burner that radiates out heat that stings slightly against your mountain chilled cheeks. You haven’t been around such finery in years, the excess of it all feeling somehow grotesque when compared to the simple pleasures you’d now learnt to love. 
“My Lady”, Arthur bows as he raises his arm, gesturing to the empty room. 
“Husband”, you giggle, door closing behind you. The ridiculousness of that word still not losing its novelty. 
“I’ll be sure to let Hosea know we’ve got a regular little con artist on our hands.”
Your body is vibrating with energy, the thrill of the past few hours still coursing through your veins; how you’ll sleep tonight, you don’t know, even with the promise of such a comfy mattress to lay your head on. You’d been terrified of letting everyone down ever since Dutch had summoned you to his tent to inform you of the job he had lined up for Arthur and the role he expected you to play. You were sure there must have been some mistake, but when he explained that your upbringing made you the ideal candidate, you couldn’t see a way to protest. So now you were here, just you and Arthur, and things were surprisingly going to plan for a change. 
“I can’t believe how naive they were. Was I really so soft when you first met me?”
“A little”, Arthur smirks as he sits on the oak trunk at the edge of the bed, pulling roughly at the puff tie around his neck, eager to free himself of the restrictions of such formality. You had been shocked at how naturally he found getting into character after spending half the ride there grumbling about it. “Suits you, though, a bit of softness. Glad we ain’t fully sullied that good name of yours just yet.” 
You bristle a little at the mention of your name, all the good it had done you when you’d drifted from town to town, relying on the goodwill of others to keep you from starving. Your name hadn’t saved you then, but the Van der Linde gang had. It was them to whom you owed a debt, not your family. 
“We best get some rest. Big day tomorrow.”
You nod as Arthur moves to hang his dress coat in the wardrobe, and you catch sight of him over your shoulder in the large cheval mirror that stands to the side of the bed. He looks different somehow, here away from camp, more at ease maybe, less burdened by thoughts. This was the longest you and he had spent one-on-one, and you had found it surprising how quickly you had both fallen into an easy rhythm. You had always got on well in camp. You shared a closeness with him more akin to one of the girls than any of the other men; he’d bring you fresh peaches whenever he could, knowing them to be your favourite, and you would craft tonics and bitters for him to take on his travels. A trade between friends. Truth be told, if it wasn’t so implausible, you might have wanted to take advantage of the sleeping arrangement that now presented itself - Karen or Mary-Beth wouldn’t have given it a second thought! But as it was, that was a delusion, and Arthur had already courteously agreed to sleep on the floor.
Your reflection distracts you then as you compare the neat up and down of his form to your own inelegant roundness in the mirror. What was the word Grimshaw had used? Fleshy? And more on display this evening than you had ever elected to show to the gang.
When Trelawny had taken you to the dressmakers, your eyes had almost bugged out of your head when you saw the mannequin donning the dress he had selected for you. An off-the-shoulder, deep emerald gown with a swan-like bust made from velvet. Quite possibly the most beautiful thing you had ever laid eyes on. You begged Trelawny to allow you to wear something, anything else. But he would hear nothing of it. To con an heiress, you would have to look like one. The ridiculousness of that notion forces a snort of laughter to escape your mouth. Arthur turns to you, lips preemptively curling upwards, expecting you to share your private joke. 
“Somethin' tickle you?”
“Nothing, it’s silly.” 
But his face doesn’t let up. You hesitate, trying to find a way to make him understand without sounding foolish. 
“It’s just, I didn’t expect any of this to actually work. I went along with it because… because I wanted to be useful. I didn’t actually think anyone would believe that we were married.” You laugh, but Arthur looks confused. 
“Why not?”
You giggle, gesturing back and forth between you like it’s the plainest thing in the world, but he still stares at you blankly. 
“Don’t play dumb, Arthur! Look at me, and then look at you!” 
“I’m lookin'.”
Your smile falters a little, realising that he is going to make you state the obvious, that unspoken truth that you have been biting your tongue not to scream out loud since Dutch revealed the con two weeks previous. 
“Arthur, please…” Your voice is quieter now, traces of humour all but evaporated. “There ain’t no way a man like you would ever take someone like me as a wife. It’s just not the way of things.” Your eyes are now firmly rooted to the ground. Shame coursing through your body for putting such a dour end to a fun evening. Wishing desperately to go back to the teasing and lightness of moments before. “You're deserving of a fine woman, not a stout, plain thing like me.”  
Arthur rears back on his heels as though slapped.
“Ought not to speak about yourself that way or judge whose hand is or isn’t deserving of mine, calloused and scarred up as it is.” 
You laugh quietly at that and lift your head back up at him, where he hooks you in with a look so serious it catches you off guard, brows knitted together like he is weighing up some great debate. He sniffs-
“You looked beautiful tonight, Mrs Callahan.”
He steps towards you slowly, as one might approach a spooked horse, head tilted and low, looking up at you with sparkling pools of tranquil blue. You feel the overwhelming urge to bolt, but something about the assured look he has on you keeps you tethered to the spot, unable to move as the space between you grows smaller. 
“Don’t tease me, it ain’t kind.”
“I’ve not been able to take my eyes off my pretty wife all evening.” 
You search his face for some small hint of insincerity, half expecting him to rear back at any moment and mock you for not seeing his obvious joke. But he doesn’t pull back. Unyielding in his approach until he is close enough for you to feel the heat of his breath on your crown. The smell of brandy and tobacco smoke wafts deliciously in the air. You hesitate to look up, not sure you could withstand the heat of his gaze without melting into the rug. 
“You know, I’ve not seen you wear anything like this before,” Arthur gently raises a hand up to your exposed shoulder and fingers some of the lace appliques around the rim, his chapped knuckles lightly grazing your skin. Your eyes close, and a faint sigh escapes your lips as you lean into his touch. “Caught myself thinkin’ about how much more of your loveliness you’ve been hidin' away.”
You are still unable to lift your eyes higher than the buttons on his shirt. But then he’s tracing a line up your throat, resting his thumb on your chin and gently manoeuvring your face to meet his. To be invited to view him up so close and personal this way is a delight you want to savour. The white lines around his eyes from squinting in the sun, the crook in his nose, badly set, smattered with freckles, the chip on his frontmost tooth, the face of a man who has only known hard work and fresh air. But the exchange of looks goes both ways and suddenly, you are reminded of the indolent, dumpy girl he must view. 
“Arthur-” 
His lips press into yours so keenly that your overthinking brain only has room for the sweet sensation of his insistent kiss, opening you up to him, coaxing you deliberately with his brandy, rich tongue. A needy whimper is spilled from your mouth into his, which he drinks from you, like a man parched, tasting your lips and then deeper, lapping you up. Your shaky hands find purchase on the plains of his broad chest, and you fist at his shirt to pull him closer. 
As though that were the signal he was waiting for, Arthur grunts out a low groan before dipping his head to kiss at your neck and cushioned collar bone, hands running along the stiff shape of your corset, reaching around your sides, your back, searching blindly for some hidden opening. You have never seen him this feral. 
You pull backwards, struggling to catch your breath, lips swollen, hair all but falling down. 
“Wait,” You gasp. “You’re drunk, you don’t really want-”
“Woman, if you don’t stop tellin' me what I do and do not want.” He laughs, but there is a seriousness that underpins his tone. “Now, if you don’t want it, that’s different.” He lifts an eyebrow in question. 
“It’s not that. I just… I don’t want to disappoint you.” He offers you a look that could almost read as exasperated if it wasn’t so filled with fondness. Your chest is pounding, you're not sure that you have ever wanted something, someone, so much in your entire life. Your eyes dart around the ornate room and land on the glowing gas lamp behind Arthur’s head. “Maybe if it were dark?”
He laughs dismissively. “You’re still not gettin' it,” He pulls his hand down his face before interlocking your fingers in his as though trying to work out how to explain something simple to a small child. “You think I would be here kissin' on you, actin' a fool, if I weren’t attracted to you?”
You don’t know how to answer him, so you remain silent. Chewing a loose strip of skin on your lip.
“You think I ain’t noticed you're bigger than most?” Your cheeks burn red at the acknowledgement of your body, something you have taken great pains to draw attention away from for as long as you can remember - modest clothing, intricate hairstyles, humour and helpfulness. His thumbs rub soothingly on the pulse point of your wrists. 
“Ever considered that might be something I might like?” In truth, you hadn’t because how could it be? You had never seen images of women who looked like you in catalogues or advertisements unless it was to market some magical cure for the ailment of looking like you, never read about them in books unless they were some wicked aunt or old crone. How could Arthur be attracted to such a thing?
“Turn around.” 
A command given so soberly that you find yourself spinning without thought. He pulls your back flush to him as he scoops the fallen tendrils away from your left ear, lips pressing into newly revealed skin. Your eyes find each other in the mirror as he trails a path of wet kisses down your neck to the tip of your shoulder. Unfolding you in his arms as if to show you off to the two figures staring back longingly, enjoying their own embrace. 
“You see?” He traces the length of your arms with his rough fingers, ghostlike as they make their way down the curve of your arms, one wrapping tightly around your waist while the other seeks out your breast. He finds you heavy and full in his palm, and your bodies roll together in a languid moan released in unison. 
You observe Arthur’s eyebrow hitch momentarily in the mirror, and his eyes darken as you feel a tug from your side and realise too late that he has found the opening of your dress. He wastes no time unhooking each clasp one by one, your breath coming in heavy as you watch him work, peeling the right side of your wrapped bodice away from your corset, the swell of your breast revealed, covered only by the thin cotton of your chemise. 
You lift your hand to help with the clasps on the other side, but Arthur nudges you away as though this is his solemn duty to bear alone. He reaches around to your left-hand side until you are fully enveloped in his arms, and you can feel his heart pumping in his chest. Your eyes flutter closed, and your head falls back to meet his firm shoulder as you feel yourself going weak at the knees, like it has been the rigidity of your clothing holding you together this entire time; one more loosened clasp, and you are liable to break. 
“I want you to see what your body does to me”, Arthur rasps out as he unwraps the left half of your bodice, leaving your chest fully bared, apart from your underthings. You watch as his fingers delicately trace their way up your corset, and he takes each of your full breasts in hand, rolling your beaded nipples with his thumbs. The sensation courses through your veins as your arms shoot behind you, grasping blindly in an attempt to ground yourself for fear you will float away. One hand meets his left hip, while the other finds the tight muscle of his thigh before something more protruding grazes the pads of your fingers. Arthur lets out an involuntary grunt as he bucks into you. 
You run your fingers along his length more deliberately then, and the fire it ignites in him is enough to rival the sun. Eyes still locked firmly onto yours in the mirror, he pulls your bodice from your arms with two rough jerks before throwing it to the side to begin work on your skirts. 
“Face me.” 
You turn, as he pulls you into a deep kiss, fingers hooking behind you to undo the ties at your waist. His hands glide down your back, over your ass and hips, skinning the fabric away from you until it bunches up and falls to the ground. Catching his breath, he steps back, panting, taking in the curves of your now semi-exposed form. You have never been looked at this way, hungrily, like your ripened flesh is the only thing that could save this starving man. 
“Goddamnit”, He hisses, more to himself than you and backs away from you further.
Without the solid touch of him to reassure you that the last few minutes haven’t been some momentary lapse in sanity, a wave of self-consciousness pulls you outside your body like some sort of uninvited voyeur, looking down at the scene, struck by the implausibility of it all. Here is this man - Adonis, even, who could have his pick of women, not just in camp but in polite society too; you had seen how the newlywed wife had looked at him over dinner, and then you, dimpled and misshapen like a bruised peach.   
Sensing the sudden shift in your demeanour, Arthur quickly steps back to you, resting his forehead on yours, blue eyes burning intensely, cupping your cheeks with both hands.
“You still don’t believe I want ya?”
You stare back at him, his lips so close you must hold back the urge to nip at them. 
“I’m sorry” you whisper. Softly, Arthur removes a hand from your cheek and finds your own covering the curve of your stomach. He hooks his fingers into yours and guides your hand lower down to the hard line of his trousers.
“My whole body’s achin’ for ya, Darlin'.” His arousal is undeniable now, and for a moment, you start to believe that he could be true to his word. Perhaps certain tastes are only acquired by a few. Your thumb reflexively works up and down the solid ridge of him as he presses his lips to yours and lets out a groan.
“Now-” He’s struggling to maintain his focus as your fingers continue to stroke him. “I’m going to sit down right here, and you are going to show me what I’ve been wantin' to see.” He huffs out and pulls himself back from you again and sits at the edge of the bed, eyeing you eagerly in anticipation. 
For a moment, you stand there, tethered to the spot, brain failing to remember the motions one must go through to undress, as though this was something entirely new and not the most ordinary of tasks. 
You close your eyes and breathe deeply to gather yourself before loosening the ties of your petticoats and allowing them to fall to the floor like the heavy skirt before it. A rumble of approval from the bed forces your eyes to open. When you are met with a look so full of adulation, it’s hard to stop the grin from spreading across your entire face. You step over the crumpled petticoats with a little skip before marching to the bed and lifting your heeled foot to rest between Arthurs's legs.
“Care to do me the honour?”
“My pleasure.”
Arthur takes your stockinged ankle in his large hands, pressing a flurry of kisses to your knee as he peels the silk down your leg before unbuttoning the pointed-heeled boot and tossing them aside. As you lift your other leg up to him, he hooks your knee and carves his hands upwards underneath your bloomers, fisting a handful of the meat of your inner thigh. 
“Patience,” you say, fully enthralled by this new sense of power you feel in your core like you could tell this man to walk through hot coals, and he would thank you for the privilege. You flick the point of your shoe towards him to undo.
Heels removed, you step backwards again, fingers tracing the shape of your body slowly, tantalisingly, noting how each swirl of your thumb, each flick of your wrist registers like a shockwave on the gunslinger’s slack-jawed face. You press your clothed breasts together, lifting them experimentally and letting them fall. And then once again. Arthur lets out a hiss. 
“Woman, you don’t know what I have planned for you.”
Your fingers ghost the eyelets of your corset, the moment you have been dreading. The barrier moulding your shape into something deemed acceptable by society. You feel without it, you may fall apart. But if his face isn’t goddamn begging you to take it off. Who are you to disappoint him?
You pull the top clasps together, and then the bottom and your lungs fill with air as your body relaxes in kind. You stand there in only your chemise and bloomers, near transparent, backlit by the light from the fire. You hitch your chemise to your waist, inch by inch, as Arthur leans forward, almost salivating. Your fingertips slide under the waistband of your bloomers as you shimmy them down to your ankles with a wiggle, exposing the thatch of hair at your sex for a split second before your chemise falls back into place. 
A thought comes to you then, and you're not sure if it’s in part to delay the inevitable shame of baring yourself to this man so completely or if part of you is starting to have fun, but you realise the power you hold stood before him in nothing more than your chemise. What would he give up to see your exposed flesh? What trade might he offer now? A peach for something saltier perhaps? You toy with the frill at your hem.
“Planned? You sound like you’ve been dreamin' on this for a while, Arthur.”
You step towards him again so that your scantily covered breasts are now at eye level. He reaches out to touch you, but you shoo him away. 
“You ‘been having indecent thoughts?”
“The worst”
You cock your head to the side in mock outrage. The giddiness of dinner, playing dress up, and make-believe comes flooding back with full force.
“What thoughts?”
“Takin' you in my tent… spreadin' you out… all pretty for me.” He can barely get his words out as your finger lifts the corner of your chemise. 
“You ever done anything about those thoughts, cowboy?” 
The rush of crimson to his cheeks surprises you as you imagine him alone in his cot with only daydreams of you to keep him company. You have so many other questions: When did this start? Why has he only chosen to act now? But they will have to wait. You glance down at his lap.
“Show me.” 
Like an eager puppy, he springs from his seat, towering over you, but you don't step back. Arthur’s disrobing is a much more efficient affair; suspenders are shrugged from his shoulders, shirt unfastened, trousers kicked haphazardly across the room until he is in a comparable state of undress, left in only his union suit. If you’re not mistaken, a similar wave of trepidation pumps through his veins, too. You eye the proud ridge of his length, straining the stretched cotton as Arthur unbuttons his union, first revealing the coarse blonde hair at his chest, which darkens with each new release, lower and lower. At the juncture of his groin, thick brown curls frame the base of his shaft, and as he steps out of the suit, cock springing free, filling the space between you, you're not sure you have seen beauty like it.
“Show me.” Your voice is a whisper now. Arthur takes himself fully in hand and slowly strokes himself while holding your gaze. You watch him intently: artful and precise like every other task his expert hands carry out. You almost lose yourself watching him before you remember your own throbbing need and push him back to his seat on the bed. You are ready now. Confident. 
You raise your chemise up your strong thighs, the curve of your hips, swell of your belly, higher still to meet your heavy breasts that fall as the fabric catches them momentarily; you pull the cotton above your head, over your plump arms, until you are stood naked as the day you were born, goosebumps adorning your skin, like velvet. They prickle as you smooth your hands across your belly, as though touching it for the first time. Maybe you are touching it for the first time with gentle hands? You smile at this private realisation and then towards the cowboy, who is near cross-eyed with want, stroking himself vigorously at the sight of your unveiled form. 
“Am I what you expected?”
“Git over here already. I’m tired of just lookin'.”
Before you can protest that you don’t want to crush him, Arthur is pulling you onto his lap, the ripe head of him grazing your clit and pressing between your stomachs. You try to hold some of your weight from him by awkwardly balancing yourself where your shins meet the mattress, but then he’s grabbing two firm handfuls of your ass and lifting you up with him. Reflexively, your legs wrap around his waist as you are suspended in the air. It feels like flying. You have not been picked up like this, cradled, since you were a child, and even then, by the time you turned 7, your papa had started to groan that you were too big. But Arthur lifts you effortlessly, kissing into your mouth as he spins you round and lays you out on your back, his body curving over yours. 
His knuckles tenderly graze the shape of your cushioned ribs, rising and falling in time with his own. He slowly lowers himself down your body, taking care to kiss an open-mouthed trail down the centre of your sternum, between the valley of your breasts, palming each on his journey. Your body arches up hungrily in anticipation of each kiss, eyes drifting shut as you feel the warmth of his breath waft against the moistened curls of your pelvis, already sodden with want. 
A flash of ecstasy pulls the air from your lungs as your eyes spring open, and you grasp wildly to pull him back up to you. He can’t. It’s too much. But the cowboy holds firm. You peer between your legs in horror as Arthur begins to feast greedily at your cunt. From the depraved sounds from his chest, you intuit that this must be another of this man’s acquired tastes. Still, the sight has you scandalised in such a wickedly licious way you find yourself biting your lip as a drawn-out groan rasps itself out of you. 
A wave of impossible pleasure builds first in your chest. Then it permeates outwards, sending vibrations down your arms and neck, catching in your cheeks, forcing you to huff out pathetic little pants. You begin to writhe and wriggle under the pressure of his tongue, brazen as it dances along your slippery folds. Long, languid licks, lapping you up.
“Ohh-” 
Your legs pull together reflexively in a vice-like grip, ensnaring his head. Still, if Arthur fears suffocation, he shows no signs of stopping, sucking you wholey on the clit until your body is quivering like that of a bow fully drawn.  
“Arthur…” You beg as another wave has your head rolling back into the mattress. “Please… I can’t.” 
“You can.” He rumbles as he pushes a finger inside you, and your legs start to tremble violently, loosening their grip around the cowboy’s head. Jesus Fuck. You jut your pelvis forward involuntarily as your whole being seeks out a deeper penetration. Sensing your rising need, Arthur slides a second digit inside you and curls them in an upward motion as if coaxing your climax to come quicker, harder. Don’t be shy, it’s alright. You're doin' so good for me.
You feel it then, pressure, unlike anything you have experienced from your own hand. Like you are a jug being filled from a fast-flowing river, you feel yourself reaching the brim and then spilling out, overflowing. Water gushing from within, swirling you up in its current and washing you out to sea. Clear liquid streams from your cunt, coating Arthur’s face and neck. As your body resurfaces the only way you know you have not drowned is through the heartbeat you feel pumping in your ears.
“I’m so sorry” You gasp, as you pull off him and quickly try to cover the sodden evidence of your release, fisting desperately at the blankets, distraught by all the new and mortifying ways your body seeks to humiliate you. But then you hear Arthur’s chuckle as he wipes his face with the back of his hand, grinning from ear to ear. 
“I ain’t never made a girl come like that before. C’mere.” Arthur takes hold of your frantic hands and pulls you towards him, scooping you up in his sturdy arms, resting your cheek against the soft curls of his chest and looking down at you adoringly. “You got nothing to apologise for. I didn’t hurt you, did I?” 
You silently shake your head, certain you will never be able to look at the man in the face again. He frowns then, trying to work out how to bring you back to him.
“I hope you're not ashamed on account of me? Ain’t nothing prettier I’ve seen, lettin' go for me like that.” 
“But I made a mess.” 
“Just as well Grimshaw ain’t here to scold us about laundry then. ‘Sides, if we hang them by the fire, they’ll be dry by the mornin'. No harm done.” 
You feel his rough palm tenderly cup your cheek, angling your face to his and placing a light kiss at the end of your nose. “I hope you won’t see me different now, Arthur.” Your voice is shaky as it suddenly strikes you how exhausted you feel, body totally spent, laying heavy like lead in his arms. 
“I sees you for who you are; that ain’t changin.” He says earnestly, “We should rest, though; we've got an early rise.” You can still feel him hard as a rock against your hip and wonder if it causes him discomfort. As your eyes trail downwards, he lets out a knowing laugh. “Plenty of time for that after tomorrow.” 
After tomorrow?
He lifts you up to sit on the chair in the corner of the room, wrapping one of the unsullied blankets around your shoulders, another around his waist as he strips down the bed. Thankfully, your release has only soaked through the quilted throw, leaving the linens underneath untouched. He pulls back the sheet and beckons you over. 
As your head hits the pillow, you feel the pull of sleep dragging you towards it, but then you realise Arthur has yet to follow suit. You sit bolt upright, eyes searching around the room for him needily.
“Hey, I’m just here. I weren’t sure if you’d want me in the bed or not. I didn’t wanna assume nothin'.” You practically roll your eyes at his honorableness, as if he wasn’t buried tongue-deep in you no more than five minutes earlier. You reach out a sleepy hand towards him.
“I couldn’t rightfully allow my husband to sleep on the floor now, could I?” you smirk as Arthur finally makes his way over to the bed and tucks himself in tight beside you, wrapping you up underneath his chin.  It’s not long before you are drifting off into a deep sleep, with thoughts about what happens after tomorrow filling your dreams. 🍑
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ghouljams · 9 months
Note
How dare you hurt me like this?!? But also give me the Soap and Moon version and break my heart more
“Why didn’t you tell me you were leaving?” You ask him, you don’t have a right to ask him. You haven’t been the warmest towards Soap, but he’s been chasing your skirt the last few weeks. You thought you’d at least get something. Not a text from Goose asking you to swing by. He hadn’t even been downstairs to greet you, too busy getting ready to leave to bother with bothering you.
“I thought you’d be happy to see me gone,” His joke hurts. You should be happy he’s leaving, it’s one less annoyance in your day, but you’re not. You cross your arms over your chest, shrug when you feel your shoulders tighten.
“How long have you-” You don’t know what to say. How long has he known? How long has he had his orders? When did he decide not to tell you? To just leave without a word.
“A week or so,” Soap zips his suitcase closed, and you twist your fingers in your skirt. You stare at the floor, the old wood boards creek under your feet. “They never give us much notice, me and Gaz’ll be-” He waves a hand, “-somewhere, by tomorrow.”
“That’s it?” You ask.
“That’s it.” He sighs. His shoulders hunched, his hands on his suitcase holding himself up. You don’t know why it hurts so badly to hear him say it. That’s it. There’s no more to say. There’s nothing to be done. Your heart clenches in your chest.
“Goose is going to miss you,” I’m going to miss you, you don’t say.
Soap swallows, you don't look at him. “All I’ve ever wanted was to be a soldier, all my life this is- this is it, this is all I’ve wanted to do.” You grip your skirt tighter, you don’t like this conversation. “I’m good at it, it’s where I belong,” He sounds like he’s reminding himself.
“You’re a good horse trainer,” You try. You hate how your voice sounds, bargaining with a man that’s done nothing but make your life more difficult for weeks. He rounds on you, frustration in his voice as he grabs your shoulders.
“Dammit I’m trying to-” He cuts himself off, takes in your wide eyes and the tremble in your lip, and exhales. Soap closes his eyes, leans down to rest his forehead against yours. “I’m trying to make this easy for you,” He admits quietly, “Why do you have to make everything so hard?”
You keep quiet, you don’t know what to say. You don’t know. You just do, you’ve never known how to take the easy route, never been able to just say what you want to say. You’ve never had someone care so much about that before. Your silence speaks volumes. It always does.
He pulls away from you, takes his height back before you can ask him not to. "You probably wouldn't call me if I asked, would you?" Soap says, breaking the silence.
"I might pick up," you mumble, "if you called me."
"Yeah?” He smiles. He’s a familiar warmth, one you’re going to miss. You nod, keep your eyes on the bedroom wall so you don’t have to see the knowing look in his eyes. Soap’s fingers tip your jaw so he can kiss your cheek, turn you to catch the edge of your lips. “You’ve been busy, I didn’t have a moment to tell you. I’m sorry, hen.”
You suppose that’s fair, you’ve been running booze all over the county for the last few days. You’re lucky you saved the ranch for last or you wouldn’t have caught him. Lucky Goose sent you up to get him.
“You better come home in one piece,” You tell him, and he laughs.
“I will. I’ll be quick, you won’t even notice I’m gone.” You will notice, you already notice when he isn't around. He's worked his way into your space so effectively, so quickly, that you don't know how you wouldn't notice the Soap shaped hole he leaves.
You turn to catch his eye, the sadness clouding his usually brilliant blues. His thumb strokes your cheek, unwilling to let you go. You don't try to make him, leaning into the touch just enough for him to know you care. Outside someone honks the truck's horn. You suppose that's it then.
"Bye Johnny," you hope it's not for too long. You can't have his watery smile be your last good look at him.
It seems like Soap can't have that either, because he tips your head back and kisses you. Quick and chaste. You hardly get to enjoy it, the warmth, the soft press of Soap's lips against yours, the scent of his aftershave, before he's pulling back. Its the platonic ideal of a goodbye kiss. The sort of kiss that leaves you wanting more, that makes you wish he wasn't going anywhere.
"I'll see you soon, love." He whispers, and you have to leave before you beg him to stay.
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muzanswaifu · 1 year
Text
A Step Ahead - III
Part I | Part II
Yandere! Tomioka x Fem! Reader
18+
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Previous Choice: "Sneak out and go for a walk through town"
This is the third round of the game. Census has determined that you shall sneak out of the house and go for a walk. Be careful of those around at this time of night. Tread carefully.
Warnings: Yandere, Crying, Mention of postpartum depression, Smut later on
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It’s not like Mother could get any more upset than she already was…
You slyly climbed out of bed and made your way back to the door, carefully pulling it open so as to not make a sound. The wood creaked slightly making you cringe but hopefully nobody else heard. Shutting it closed with just as much care, you steadily creeped down the hall, tip-toeing across the floor boards as if they were covered in eggshells. The sound of laughter and talking could still be heard from the dining room, the participants oblivious to your current actions. Good. Getting caught now would just make everything more complicated. It would be better to get out and have your night of freedom then get in trouble later. 
Luckily, your room was right across the hall from the backdoor, aiding your mission. It only took a brief moment before you were out and about. You’d only been inside for a couple minutes, but you could already tell the air was colder, not that you minded. The winter air was chilly and crisp. It hadn’t been snowing much lately but there was still a thin layer of white covering the ground, making a light crunch as you stepped. It would be nice to blow off some steam with a walk in this type of weather. Summer walks just weren’t the same. 
Not many people were out either, most either out in the city for the festival or indoors to celebrate with their families. You were thankful for that too. You didn’t feel like talking to anyone anymore tonight. The village was small, but there was still plenty of area to walk. You usually just went around a couple blocks but tonight you were in no rush. Mindlessly you counted all the light posts as you made your way down the streets, taking note of all the broken lamps that were flickering. 
Your tears almost went unnoticeable.
You didn’t even know why you were crying. Maybe you were just pent up from all the frustration. Why was your mother so rude to you? What had you done so differently than your other siblings? Goddamn it you still wanted a slice of that stupid pie. You chuckled a bit to yourself.
Even after you turned eighteen, she still treated you the same, if not worse. If anything went wrong, it was your fault. If your younger siblings misbehaved, it was your fault. If your father lost some money, it was your fault. She always had a reason to be angry with you. You didn’t care much at this point, so used to her blatant distaste, but that didn’t take away the hurt. It hurt to be so unwanted.
Your grandmother once told you the reason for her anger was the circumstances of your birth. Mother had been ill the entire length of her pregnancy with you, and the moment you were born she entered a deep depression. It was almost like she rejected you from birth. She never bonded with you, didn’t want to spend more time with you than necessary. For a long time, apparently Father was too afraid to even leave you alone with her in fear she would neglect your needs. You didn’t doubt the story for a second. It made sense after all.
You vowed to yourself to never bear such malice to your own children in the future, no matter what. The family you made would be one of love and care, nurtured and loved. You didn’t put it past Mother to cut you off entirely after you’d gone and moved away. In fact, you hoped for it. Your thoughts were interrupted with a sudden clash.
“-umph!”
You stumbled back, holding your smushed face in your hands and groaning, your vision a bit fuzzy.
“Wha-?’ You looked up and your stomach dropped.
You still recognized the scruffy hair and strange haori that you’d seen in the forest, a dark aura surrounding the man. He was much taller than you’d initially assumed, standing tall at just under six foot, maybe shorter. You weren’t very good with heights.
Despite the fear factor, he wasn’t very bad looking at all, in fact kind of the opposite. He was quite handsome up close, deep blue eyes that were so alluring and a face sculpted with fine features. He could be quite the lady-killer if he didn’t exude such a depressive energy. Maybe your judgmental ideas were the reason you didn’t have a boyfriend already.
“Why are you crying?” he quietly asked, his expression stoic and unwavering. One would have a hard time believing he had much sympathy.
“Oh!,” you gasped, quickly wiping your eyes and sniffling, you’d forgotten you were teary already, “I-it’s nothing, just… family stuff. Sorry, sir.” You backed up slowly as you cleaned your face, but when you opened your eyes again, he seemed even closer. Weird.
“Sorry about bumping into you! I should watch where I’m going,” you apologized with an awkward smile. 
His face didn’t change at all. “It’s fine.”
You stood there uneasy and rocked on the balls of your feet, unsure of what to say at the moment. It wasn’t helping that he made no effort to continue the conversation, so the ball was in your court.
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oceansssblue · 1 month
Note
Can I request a Hunter x reader fic where they have a knife throwing contest? (You can choose who wins)
cool request! I'm down!
Decided to do a little flirty thing between a badass female reader and our sexy sargent. Note for everyone that requests me something; if you want speficically a female male or neutral reader do tell me! If not I'll jump to whatever I feel.
Hope you like it!
Xx,
Sky.
"A SHARP SMILE"
TBB REQUESTS –HUNTER/F READER 📩💖🔥
WARNINGS: PUBLIC KNIFE THROWING CONTEST, SEXUAL TENSION&SUGESTIVE (BUT NO SMUT), FLEETING MENTIONS OF ALCOHOL AND A SINGLE FLEETING REFERENCE TO PROSTITUTION.
Hunter carefully watched another round of the knife throwing contest develop in front of his eyes. Cid's Salon had been experiencing a drop in it's sales for quite a few weeks now; and after Tech's comment on how announcing special shows or activities could be an adecuate solution to such a problem, the Trandoshan had oficially inaugurated "Friday's Knife night". Tech had pointed out he had been alluding more to a special drink's discount or karaoke night; but Cid had waved an impatient hand at that, and claimed Ord Mantell didn't catter to the same "Coruscant's sweethearts". Hunter could only agree. The idea of the citizens in Ord Mantell singing a ballad was... Something.
The contestants were good for normal everyday people standards. Most of the knifes always ended up properly stuck to the wood board; though only a few of the participants were skilled enough to hit the borders of the –one round human, another round twi'lek, and so on– black siluete. He could tell who tried just for fun and who had had to use knifes before to defend themselves. None were good enough to match Hunter's seasoned abilities, though; which was the reason why he had comformed himself to remain a silent spectator instead of an active participant.
Almost an hour later, Cid announced the last contest of the night. Hunter studied everyone who payed the fee and wrote their names –and identifications– down on the list; wondering if he should just play in this last chance. There was nothing that ruled him out. He could inscribe himself and win the price; Omega could do with a new set of clothes, as she was outgrowing her current one quite fast. Hunter gulped down the leftover of his drink and patted Echo's shoulder; making his way towards the line.
Upon seing him, Cid rolled her eyes.
"Gonna double that bet, Broody?" she tempted him.
Hunter nodded with a shrug.
"That way I might be able to pay the exagerated fee you'll probably request from us next time" he smiled falsely sweetly, signing his name and turning to walk away towards the wood board.
Cid glanced at you waiting patiently on the line and smirked. Oh, was Broody in for a surprise.
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You silently studied your competition. You needed to repair your bike and you were confident on winning that price. The bet was higher than the rounds before as well; the first place just had your name written on it. Plus, half of the participants were already embriagated at this point of the night. It wouldn't be too difficult, or so you hoped.
There were some new faces and some regulars. Your mind quickly divided the participants into three groups; real competition, like Raak –a duros you have had the bad luck to fight against with more than once in the past–, complete drunk disasters, and strangers you weren't really sure were to place that could be a potencial surprise. Like the male human clad up with heavy looking armour as if he was ready to jump on on an open battlefield anytime now; your eyes quickly detecting a vibroblade hidding in a compartment on his thigh. The guy certainly cut an intimidating figure; broad shoulders and trained muscles moving under his armour. His long hair –pushed back and away from his tattood face with a red bandanna across his forehead– didn't sweeten his looks; he still looked... A spicy kind of dangerous.
The corner of your lips inevitably tugged upwards. You've always had a nick for this kind of men; men who could ruin you but who you quickly put into place.
Right then and there, his eyes flickered over the room; quickly landing on yours, almost as if he could feel your stare.
You arched an eyebrow in half surprise, half amusement, and half defiance. Well, wasn't he some kind of well trained soldier or mercenary perfectly aware of his surroundings... You almost wished he could make you a run for your money; give the night some exciting real competition.
Your perspective on such a handsome attractive man would forever be tainted if he just made a dissapointing mess of his knife throws. Just in case he didn't, you threw him a quiet side smile.
••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
Hunter's eyes couldn't help but bore into the female stranger; watching without missing a beat how the woman carefully picked up a knife from the table of possibilities offered by Cid. She slowly examined the weapon, turning it around in her hand patiently; studying it's shape and weight while ignoring the muttering and impatient calls from the crowd around them.
She seemed to nod to herself and he took in the way she positioned herself in front of the wood board; stance impecable with her body slightly turned to the right side, fingers gripping the shiny end with just the needed amount of strength. With just that and the way she concentrated on the siluete –not her hand–, and how she retracted her right arm back before quickly throwing her knife forward, Hunter already knew she had done an good job. Still, he couldn't help but feel surprised at the precision with which the knife got stuck to the center of the chest markings on the twi'lek black siluete; and how she swiftly and calmly abandoned her stance as if it was nothing.
For the second time that night, the pretty woman catched his eye and arched her eyebrow towards him; as if she were asking him a silent "there, that's my shot. What about yours?".
Hunter's hand confidently grabbed a sturdier knife from the table and got into position. He was... Intrigued, for now; but he'd show her how it was done.
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You couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement and arousal at such a sight. The man –you have discovered his name was Hunter, appropiate for the way he moved and watched– is definitely not a dissapointment of any kind. Round after round, he had matched you outstandingly well; all of his knifes hitting the exact center of the targets, not letting you stand ahead of him for a single point. He glances at you each time he finishes a throw now too; indulging in your little game and warming up the blood in your veins. It has been a while since you felt this attracted to someone; more so with him being a total stranger.
When it's the other participants time to throw –Raak following the two of you closely behind– he casually stops besides you; his eyes never leaving the contest in front of you.
"How' you learnt to throw like that?"
His voice is deep and slightly husky. Oh, this couldn't get any better.
You keep your wits together regardless of your thoughts and reply just as nochalant.
"Life has a strange way of throwing shit at you" you answer, arms crossed in front of your chest, eyes on the board. "I prefer to throw my shit back at her".
He glances down at you, and you can't help but smirk quietly. You know it's vague, but you're not about to spill all your secrets. He'll have to work with that.
"What about you?" You ask back, this time letting your eyes drive up to his dark amber ones. "You gonna tell me you know your way around a knife like that just by being a model Ord Mantell citizen?"
He hums non-comitally, eyes boring into yours. You have to force yourself not to fidget at such intensity. He really is something.
"Thought my outfit gave it a way" he humours you.
It pulls a smile on your face. Yeah, he's not giving away unnecessary information to potencially dangerous strangers either. Well, at least he's smart and has a sense of humour; you'll give him that.
"Last round, handsome" you push your luck and teasingly move your very fingertips along his shoulder and down to his arm. He squints his eyes at you and you grin up to him innocently. "Better not get distracted".
Hunter hums and moves to pick up his last knife.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
The man has, once more, impecably hit all of his knifes on each center of the human siluete target. You only have to repeat the same and you'll both split the price; it's not ideal, but you'll have just enough to fix your bike with the savings you've been keeping this past month.
After picking your knife up, you glance at him one last time. Maybe as a way of saying goodbye. If he's a sore looser, or if he simply doesn't want anything else to do with you, this would probably be your last time of enjoying the sight of such a specimen.
You don't expect to see him with his... Daugther, though. It's obvious the way they're related with how the blonde kid looks up at him; chatting up excitedly and the love and admiration she holds for him bright in her wide eyes. He chuckles quietly, slightly bent down towards her, and pats her shoulder affectionately. Behind the girl, three other men have approached the scene too; perhaps equally interested in watching the final wrap up. Perhaps to support Hunter. They're all wearing the same kind of armour; minor alterations, but it's obvious they're a squad of some sort. A family. And they all look at the kid exactly the same way.
You glance at her, and then down at the knife in your hand, a million thoughts speeding through your head. You haven't had the easiest of childhoods. War is all you remember for a big part of your life; your teens spent running away. You had been forced to adapt to the cruel ways of the galaxy very quickly; and with the options being either becoming a prostitute or an assassin, you had made the choice that finished moulding the person you are today. You're not proud; but you're not exactly regretful either. There are a few deaths you always carry in your conscience; but you mostly only accepted the requests you hand-picked yourself, so you've kinda done your part wiping your corner of the galaxy from scum. Not the prettiest of jobs, and certainly not one you would go proudly announcing around; but life's life. You'd like this kid to have an easier one; and by the way her family are head to toes covered in armour, ready to fight ay any given second, you're guessing it hasn't been going exactly that way til this point in time.
You catch Hunter's eyes staring at you. Your heart beats faster inside your chest. Your hand tingles.
You turn towards the target. You calmly position yourself. You take a deep breath; and then, your last knife flies to the target.
Laughs and cheers errupt around you. The blonde kid smiles.
•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••
"Here you go, Broody" grumbles Cid, reluctantly pushing the pile of credits into Hunter's opened hands.
Hunter smirks.
"Bet all against me, huh?" he asks, inevitably happy.
Cid gives him the side eye.
"Well, my pockets would be full if my girl there didn't succumb to your supposedly good looks" she quotes with her hands, then roles her eyes. "I never quite understood the hype for humans anyway".
The Trandoshan walks away, still muttering a hundred of insults and dissapointed comments. Hunter doesn't feel a tad of guiltyness; Cid might not have won the bet, but she had definitely made good money on Tech's idea. The salon had been to the brim, drinks flowing around constantly. She really can't complain.
Hunter leaves the earned credits with his brothers and then turns to scan the lingering crowd. He quickly finds you talking to another participant near the entrance of the Salon. He excuses himself from his family and walks towards you.
You quickly wrap up your conversation with Raak with a forced smile, and once the Duros has reluctantly walked away, you turn to the approaching figure with a honest one.
"Ah, the man of the night" you chirp, roaming your eyes ever him quickly. "Got all those credits in a safe place?
Hunter glances back at Wrecker.
"Don't think anyone's gonna try to steal from him" he answers in good humour, and you nod in agreement.
You've never seen a human that big.
Hunter studies you quietly for a pair of seconds; then tilts his head.
"I admit the knife in the crotch was a good dramatic ending" he comments, then asks genuinely "Why did you let me win?".
You hum and take a look back at his family.
"Kid's cute. She yours?" You directly ask in return.
Hunter smiles.
"Sister" he explains. "More like an adopted daugther, now, though".
You can see the love he holds for her as well in the way he speaks and his features soften.
"Well, I've done some bad things in the past, but I still got a heart" you explain, trying to sound casual. Vulnerability is not often showed in planets like this. "You probably need those credits more than me".
Hunter is surprised; both by your reasoning and the fact that you're admiting it out loud to him. People aren't usually that honest and... considerate here. Or in the majority of places in the galaxy. This... Doesn't really match the idea of this dangerous –though sexy– woman he has in his head. This suddenly makes you more... human.
"What were you going to do with the price?" He asks, curiously.
You shrug.
"Repair my bike. I can usually do it myself, but I can't seem to find the problem this time".
Hunter hums. He doesn't take his eyes off of you.
"One of my brothers knows his way around mechanics pretty well. Maybe he could take a look at it, no need for extra payment."
That's sweet. You nod and smile up at him.
"I'd appreciate it".
You fill yourself with courage and take a tempting step towards him; right hand gently travelling upwards to rest in his chest plate.
"Now, why don't you follow me home for the night, mm? We can take a look at my bike tomorrow. Whatcha say?".
Hunter's turned on just by the fact you have been the one to ask. He has certainly had his fair number of situationships in the past; but he usually always have to be the one to make the first move. This time, however, he seemed to have catched your eye since the start; and you're decided to see this attraction through. He likes that, a woman that is self-assured and knows what she wants. He's happy it's him for this night.
He exchanges a glance with one of his brother's –the one with the headseat and the scomp– and then makes a polite gesture with his hand. He smirks playfully. You already know you'll be having a good time.
"Lead the way, mesh'la".
THE END.
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Wohooo! This spicy little one was so much FUN to write! I hope you all liked it as well, specially the user that requested it.
I'll publish a Tech Mermay long oneshot TODAY AS WELL; and the next one planned will be a Wolffe one.
Stay tunned!
Xx,
Sky.
Back to my main masterlist here:
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gotham-ruaidh · 1 month
Text
Little Bit Better Than I Used To Be
Catch up: Chapter 1 (Starry Eyes) || Chapter 2 (Save Our Souls) || Chapter 3 (Dancing On Glass)|| Chapter 4 (Merry-Go-Round)|| Backstage (1) || Backstage (2) || Chapter 5 (Danger)|| Backstage (3) || Chapter 6A (Love Walked In) || Chapter 6B (Without You) || Backstage (4) || Chapter 7 (Stick To Your Guns) || Chapter 8 (Time For Change) || Backstage (5) || Chapter 9 (Take Me To The Top) || Backstage (6) || Chapter 10 (Home Sweet Home) || Backstage (7) || Chapter 11a (Nightrain) || Chapter 11b (Nothing Else Matters) || Chapter 12a (Handle With Care) || Chapter 12b (I’m So Tired of Being Lonely) || Chapter 13a (Angel) || Chapter 13b (She’s My Addiction) || Chapter 13c (Patience) || Chapter 14a (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14b (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 14c (Where Do We Go Now?) || Chapter 15a (Dreams) || Chapter 15b (I Sing A Song of Love) || Chapter 15c (You Can Do This If You Try) || Chapter 16 (Let That Feeling Grab You Deep Inside || Chapter 17A: Never Tear Us Apart || Chapter 17B: It’s Tough To Be Somebody, And It’s Hard Not To Fall Apart  || Chapter 17C: I’m Wishing, Lord, That I Was Stoned || Chapter 18: Turn The Page || Chapter 19A: When You’re Alone, Do You Let Go? || Chapter 19B: Heading For A Spin || Chapter 20A: I Don’t Need Nothing When I’m By Your Side || Chapter 20B: I’m Walkin’ Down This Rocky Road || Chapter 20C: You're The Only One Who Gets Through To Me ||| Also posted at AO3
Chapter 20D: Together We Can Make It A Dream
What you need is what I want So don't be afraid, let it show Don't be afraid, just let it explode We have got the power to build the highest tower Standing with our feet on the ground We've got what it takes, together we can make it Together we can blow the house down…
 -- “Blow The House Down,” Living In A Box (1989) [click here to listen]
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North Carolina || February 1989
Dinner was delicious. They all consciously kept the conversation light and fun.
Claire was particularly interested to hear Raymond’s impressions from walking around the property – about twenty acres in all, including woods and a pond. Jamie eagerly discussed the barn, now home to their vehicles (Jamie’s black 1965 Corvette, Jamie’s cherry red Dodge Charger, Jamie’s Harley-Davidson, and Claire’s powder blue Datsun that proved to be the perfect, practical go-to-town car) for the winter.
“I’m thinking of making it a proper home studio,” he said, scraping the remnants of chili from his bowl. “With a sound board and everything. Will give us more space in the house.”
“And it won’t be so loud,” Claire smiled, sipping her ice water, left hand entwined with Jamie’s under the table.
“It’s beneficial to have a little separation,” Raymond reflected. “When I started my private practice, I was given very good advice to rent an office space. There was a higher up-front cost, but patients certainly didn’t want to see me in my living room.”
“Speaking of which…”
Raymond immediately turned to face Claire. Encouraging.
Claire smiled softly, before continuing. “I want to get back to medicine – after we get back from Europe.” She paused. “My license transfer finally came through from Massachusetts a few weeks ago. I don’t want to open a private practice – it wouldn’t be fair to patients, if I’ll be on the road with Jamie, or here at home with children. But there’s a clinic in town where I can start picking up hours. I’ve already talked with them about it.”
“That would be wonderful, Claire.” Raymond’s smile was genuine. “And good to have that day-to-day interaction with patients again. You must not have had that too frequently in your last job.”
She shook her head. “By the end, my only direct interaction with patients was to consult their surgeries, before I would cut into them. I was very far removed from the daily grind. So incredibly different than at the very beginning right out of medical school.” She darted a smile at Jamie. “Though all those hours in the ER did come in handy on tour. I stitched and bandaged up quite a few wounds, splinted a few broken fingers. Jamie doesn’t understand when I say it, but I truly enjoyed doing that.”
“I just don’t get why she’d ever get excited at the sight of blood,” he smiled. “But it makes her happy.” He paused, and turned to look at her straight on. “It would make me happy, Claire, for you to spend more time at the clinic. Even now, in time we have left before it all gets crazy again. I…” He swallowed. “I want you to make something of your own, here in North Carolina. To get back to your roots.”
She beamed at him. He darted in for a quick kiss, feeling no hesitation in front of Raymond.
“Remind me when you’ll be in Los Angeles?”
“Two and a half weeks until we leave.” Jamie helped himself to another ladle of chili. “I’ve got three weeks of rehearsals – the band hasn’t played together since October. While we’re there, we’ll be meeting with the label, and maybe book a day or two in the studio. Probably a show or two, something small.”
“And then a week home here in April,” Claire added, “before flying to England to kick off the tour.”
“120 dates and counting.” Jamie sighed. “We’re booked two, three dates in most cities, though fortunately we’ve got at least a day in between cities to travel. We’re headlining all kinds of festivals. And then in August we have two weeks off – ”
“Three,” Claire chimed in.
“…and Claire and I are torn between coming back home, or going for a European vacation somewhere.”
“We don’t need to decide now,” she said softly. “Plus, if I’m pregnant by then…”
Jamie kissed her temple.
“I’ve been thinking about how we’ll work together on this tour.” Raymond pushed aside his empty bowl and pulled a small spiral notepad from the inside pocket of his blazer. He pushed back the cover, made a quick note with the pen tucked behind his ear, and looked across the table at Jamie and Claire.
“We’re open to whatever you suggest,” Claire said softly. “I hope you know that about us by now.”
“I do. I’ve been going back and forth between whether to do something in a structured way, especially given the logistical challenges and the travel. But I think that in order for both of you to get the support you need from me, we’ll need to aim for as much structure as possible.”
“I agree,” Jamie nodded, wrapping an arm around Claire’s shoulders. “Consistency will be key. Claire and I – this last tour, we tried to stick to the same schedule every day.”
“For show days, anyway,” she added.
Raymond flipped to a new page, pen poised. “And I assume that would be roughly the same, this tour?”
Claire nodded. “Wake up call at 830 or 9 AM. Wake up, love each other, order breakfast to the room, shower. Limo to the venue at 1130. Get to the venue, have lunch, band does soundcheck. That’s done by 2 PM. Then free time at the venue. Sometimes Colum meets with the band. Sometimes the band hangs out together, plays music – that’s where a lot of new songs come from. Sometimes I’ll spend time with Angus’ girlfriends, or reading in Jamie’s dressing room, or just being alone with Jamie and enjoying the quiet. All of us use that time to catch up on phone calls. I try to call Uncle Lamb and my friends Joe and Gail Abernathy a few times a week.”
“And to think that a year ago, she’d never been on the road like this,” Jamie smiled.
Claire blushed prettily. “Dinner usually at 6 or 630. Then the band gets dressed, sometimes does fan meet-and-greets or press interviews. The opening act starts at 8. About 45 minutes of the opener, and then it’s showtime.”
Jamie pushed back his empty bowl. “And after the gig, we do a quick band huddle to talk about the show. Sometimes with Colum and also our road manager. Claire and I are usually in the limo back to the hotel by midnight, if we’re not traveling. If we are, then sometimes we fly after the gig and sometimes it’s first thing in the morning.”
Raymond scribbled on the pad. “It’s good to have so much structure. Did you feel the same way?”
Jamie nodded. “Definitely. Claire?”
“Yes,” she agreed. “Especially when we’re in a new place every few days.”
“And when during the day would you have the panic attacks, Jamie?”
Jamie frowned. “After dinner. Sometimes during the free time in the afternoon.”
“One time in the hotel room, after we got back from the show,” Claire added gently. “And a few times in the morning, when we were waiting for the limo. Once, in the limo.”
“Do you see that with your other patients, Raymond?”
Raymond looked up from his notebook. “That panic attacks come at any time, without a particular pattern? Yes. Though especially with the combat vets, something in their environment acts as a trigger. Do you ever feel anxious to perform, Jamie?”
Jamie shook his head. “I fucking love it, Raymond. To play my music, with my band…to hear thousands of people singing the words I wrote, and so into the music and the whole experience we give them…there’s really nothing else like it. It’s a high, for sure. Better than any drug.”
Jamie squeezed Claire’s hand. “And the only feeling that’s better than when I’m on stage, is when I’m loving Claire.”
Raymond set down his pen, and flipped back a few pages in his notebook. “So it’s not triggered by the performance itself. And I assume you don’t get anxious or claustrophobic on buses or airplanes?”
“Nope. I’ve never had a problem with that.”
“And were your days so consistent before? When you were using?”
“Yes and no. The broad strokes of it, yes – though add ‘whiskey’ and ‘coke’ and ‘girls’ to any of the time I had to myself.” He paused, thinking. “After the show most nights, I wouldn’t go back to the hotel right away. I’d celebrate with the roadies and some girls, usually hit up a strip club, not make it back to my hotel until dawn. Obviously I don’t do that anymore.”
“You’re just an old man who likes being tucked up in bed with his lawfully wedded wife,” Claire teased.
“You know it,” Jamie smiled.
Raymond scribbled on a fresh sheet in his notebook. Absently running his hand through his hair. Clearly thinking.
“All right,” he said, after a while. “Before I walk you through my plan – I need to ask you something. Both of you.”
To be continued…
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hellooooo!! may i request a poly! mayhem/black circle (dead is alive) x fem reader who is a mix of black metal/gothic but sweet and bit of a bimbo?? like all of them are hungover from a black circle party and she makes them breakfast and takes care of them and everything??? 🤍🩷
A shiny and sweet morning
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warning : fluff, kissing, comfort
Info : Helllloooo dear anon of course you can request such a thing I hope you like this fluffy sweety thing and everyone have fun reading ;)
masterlist
Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actrs who play a role, not the real events
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In Norway the mornings in winter were cold and foggy, in spring the sun hung behind the clouds and only in summer the morning was surprisingly bright and pleasantly warm.
A warmth from the sun's rays that came into the young woman's room, the chirping of birds and nature through her roommate's open, demolished window.
Slowly opening her eyes, she wiped the sleep from her eyes as she looked at the clock. ,,Well, let's make the boys something to eat," she mumbled and got out of bed.
She knew it was morning, knew that the boys had all been partying late into the night in the music store and had then found their way back here more badly than right. The smell of beer and grass, of smoke and fire hung in the house, but that would soon change.
The longer black fingernails with the slight silver glitter reached into her closet and picked out a dress, the puffy white underdress with frills was rounded off by the black, thinner outer dress and a belt with small bows.
Sitting back on the bed, she gently and carefully pulled up the white knee-high socks so as not to damage the thin material and tied her hair up in a bow, which was a little wild from sleep.
The sweet young woman, preoccupied in the darkness, walked out of her room and peeked into the hallway, seeing that most of the doors were closed or slightly open from not closing due to the drug and alcohol influence. ,,Like a bat" she mused with a grin as she saw Dead and Euronymous lying on the mattress and coffin with their heads propped up on the floor.
The two of them looked like two oversized bats because of the runny makeup but the picture was cute and she wanted to grin and make a mental note that she had to take a picture of it next time.
That as she walked on and the bunch of Faust, Occoltus and Varg had thrown themselves together on the beanbag, the youngest of the three had the odd disturbing thought and a hand to horrofilem them both with one hand in his arms she held tightly even in her sleep.
,,The iron maiden and her captives," she murmured jokingly and continued down the corridor, almost running over the two of them.
Hellhammer and Necrobutcher leaning against each other, ,,Two mad bears with a hangover," she joked, shaking her head lightly as she tried to escape the crack of the wood from the stairs and quickly made her way to the kitchen.
She was thankful to all her lovers that they were all fiddling in the music store and not here in the house she took care of besides her job as a reporter because she brought the good news to the "hip youngsters" as her boss always called it by giving news and updates on the band once a week and writing an article.
Which was sometimes a bit of a challenge, considering her fingernails and the way her breasts pressed against the keldi. But as it was now, she was coping with everything.
The little light in the kitchen was slightly amplified by the lamp, so she turned on the stove and took the things from the fridge.
,,Goodness gracious, we're almost out of everything," she muttered and took out the remaining eggs, a few slices of ham and sausage as well as fruit and salad.
She put what she wanted to cut up on a board and started cutting away the already moldy part while listening to the latest song from her band playing on the cassette.
Humming along, she swung through the kitchen as best she could, taking care of the scrambled eggs, the salad, the meat and the few cereals with milk.
She set out the plates and cutlery and decided to stop the coffee and not give the men any beer for the time being.
She didn't want another mess. Minutes passed and it had taken her about half an hour to do everything here.
A glance at the clock told her it was time to wake the boys. Pulling the small pocket mirror out of her clothes pocket, she pulled the shimmering, strawberry-scented lip gloss over her lips before she was ready to wake her pack.
Humming happily, she opened the windows in one room after the other, letting in fresh air and the house slowly began to smell of nature and coffee, of something tart that wasn't beer and dorgen.
,,Wake up, gentlemen of hell!" She shouted through the corridors as she knocked on Euronymous and Dead's door, brushing a few tangled strands of hair out of their faces, and the black-haired man's ,,Mhhh too soon" was met with a gentle kiss, causing him to rise slowly.
,,Thank you sweetie," the band founder murmured, letting his gaze wander over her and smiling slightly as he made his way downstairs.
She heard him on his way down, but the three of them fell over Hellhammer and Necrobutcher as they went crashing down the stairs and the sound of cursing filled the house. ,,Day?" she heard the soft voice of the blond who was suddenly standing behind her, his make-up still smudged.
,,Yes, Day... my little zombie," she said and briefly took his hand before she started to pull him behind her to get him to eat, which he didn't do very well anyway.
While the five of them were eating and she had given Hellhammer and Necrobutcher a cold pack, she went back upstairs to hell the last three.
,,Fresh coffee," she murmured and held out a cup to the three sitting on the beanbag, which slowly worked wonders.
Varg took the cup with just coffee, Faust the one with two sugars and Occultus the cup with more milk than coffee.
,,Thank you, darling," the three of them trilled and gave her a quick hug before they all gathered downstairs and the large group squeezed around the table.
She had a cheerful smile on her lips when she saw that the boys were enjoying their meal despite the headache they had all taken a pill for.
,,That's great," she heard from Occoltus, who scooped another heap of egg onto his plate, and a ,,You're the best mommy," from Hellhammer, who winked at her, knowing full well what he was alluding to.
But they all knew what the brown-haired one was getting at, but it didn't bother anyone, she was there for each of her sweeties and always would be. ,,Always happy for my little devils," she replied and sat down at the table before taking her first well-earned sip of coffee.
She was happy when she saw the many relieved faces and received her rewarding kisses.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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twst-drabbles · 1 year
Text
Floyd and Jade 6
Summary: You have two eels on the cutting board and one rolling pin in your hand. Turns out, these creatures can get pretty flat when they’re relaxed.
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You really gotta stop giving in to your random whims. You just know one of these days someone is going to walk in on your doing something weird and proceed to never talk about it. Won’t bring it up, won’t mention it, but you just know that it’s fermenting in their head.
And yet, here you are, rolling pin in hand, and two mucus coated eels clicking their little claws on the cutting board, chirping to one another while they wait. Floyd got a little too close to Jade, so he pushed him away. He rolled dramatically and laid flat on his back, pretending to be dead.
Jade gave the equivalent of a scoff—hard to tell, his voice is squeaky—and gave a big stretch. He flopped once and that was that.
The both of them have stopped moving, tails swishing lazily as they looked at you and the rolling pin you had.
Time to flatten these boys.
The idea actually came about from Azul. When he gets warmed up by your hands and is cupped a certain way, he starts getting sleepy. When he actually fall asleep, it’s as though he collapses under his own weight, slowly getting flatter and flatter until he almost looks like a melting clay sculpture. Just as squishy as well.
Jade and Floyd were pretty squishy as well, so you couldn’t help but wonder if they could do the same thing, though you never seen that. They’ve never slept in your hands, preferring to be in their little hiding spots for that.
Anyways, you nudged the both of them together, your pin wasn’t the largest. They both complained but the minute you touched their tails with the pin, they went still. You didn’t press, just gently rolling the thing over them, letting them feel the weight of the wood they’re under and on.
It was kind of gross, trails of mucus clinging to your rolling pin, but the little trill of curiosity had you snorting.
You went again, a little harder this time. A tiny pop came from Jade’s tail. He jumped, more shocked by the noise than by any pain. Floyd shot up, looking down like he was expecting Jade’s tail to be a mangled mess, but there was nothing.
“Huh, popped your tiny bones, Tiny Jade.” And, seeing as they both laid back down, Floyd nudging his tail just the slightest bit closer to the pin, you think they want another round.
Turns out, Floyd’s own tail has a lot of little pops and cracks. His little arms would jut up but when the round was over, he melted right onto the board.
Slowly, bit by bit, they got so flat you can barely make out the bones and joints they had inside. You put the rolling pin to the side and poked them both.
Squishy. Flat little suckers. With so many bones too. And oh would you look at that, they’re both sleeping.
But, ugh, now you got a board and a pin to wash. The mucus they have was always so hard to wash off.
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no-name-publishing · 1 year
Text
Manacled by SenLinYu
My 8-month marathon on this project has finally come to a close, and I have a ton of pictures to share!
We’ve got a split-board binding with made-endpapers and a built-in tab for extra support. Hand-sewn endbands with silk-finish cotton sewing thread. Done in a millimeter binding style with black leather, and a hand-drawn and -painted floral motif across the middle. Final page count is just under 1.4k. I figure altogether this was around ~50 hours worth of work for the whole binding, from beginning to the typeset to pulling the final book out of the press.
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More pictures of the binding and typeset under the cut! If you have any questions or want more info about the process don’t hesitate to ask!
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In truth I over measured/estimated the needed length of my leather; this and my poor pare job is definitely visible through the cloth lol, but I’m still jazzed with the result since I’d never touched leather before this. I designed the spread digitally in Procreate, printed it, transferred it to my cloth using carbon transfer paper, then painted using Jacquard Lumiere Metallic gold paint and a refillable .75mm paint pen.
Printed:
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Transferred:
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Mid-painting:
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From starting the drawing to finishing the painting I’d say this part took ~15 hours. Close up of the spine:
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Each endband measures around 3 3/4″ (9.5cm) in length and took around 5 hours to complete. The core is 4-ply hemp cord that I coated with PVA glue. Wrapped with a single strand of red silk-finish cotton thread, and one strand of polyester yellow thread, since it’s kinda shiny. Last I counted it was something like 300+ wraps of thread for each band. The uh, cat hair here is just an added bonus I suppose. Like when you buy a new pair of jeans and get that free sticker.
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Some progress shots:
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The tie downs. I usually will try to tie down every other signature. With 68 signatures you can understand this ate up a metric shitton of thread.
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Different angle. Also a good few of the top of the textblock, which was trimmed painstakingly by hand with a wood chisel.
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Smooth as a shark etc.
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And some shots of the innards!
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Each chapter page when through four rounds of printing: 1st through an inkjet, for the floral; 2nd through a laser printer for the number; 3rd through a laminator for the gold toner-reactive foil; and 4thly for the rest of the text.
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Half-title page:
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One of the attempts to foil a crane. The toner may have been too thin a line for it to work, or perhaps not dense enough tonerly. I don’t have control over that setting on our Xerox unfortunately.
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A second shot of a golden crane. This was slightly more successful but lord knows why. Luck.
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Fun fact is that this Daily Prophet page ALONE was about 8 hours worth of typesetting. I do all my typesetting in Word, and this page was recreated line-by-line individually. A few of these elements I also had to redraw by hand since there were just no good alternatives online. Anywho though, good payoff.
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Nextly, some in-progess shots I don’t have a good segway into lol. A detail you can’t see on the book but I know is there, is hand-dyed scarlet linen thread, drip drying on my shower curtain rod:
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Freshly sewn. 68 signatures, no waiting:
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Rounded and backed:
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And a close up of the special tab/made-endpaper construction. Stupidly I didn’t take any shots of gluing the split boards on, but I think the idea is pretty easy to imagine. Just picture this tab getting glued in between the cover boards.
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You can kind of see it here:
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And finally, the behemoth on the shelf. This bad boy tips the scales at just over 4 pounds (about 1.8 grams). Glad to have it; more glad to move on with my life.
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Thank you for reading!!
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strayheartless · 4 months
Text
I don’t know what this is, but here, have it:
Inspired by a conversation I had with @salternateunreality2 ❤️
***
There’s something overtly satisfying about hearing the click of his heeled boots against the tiled floor of the Atrium. Genesis had always liked the sound, ever since he was a child. He remembered it was one of the few things he’d adored about his mother. Times when she decided to play happy families with them at party’s and would hold his hand and strut confidently across a room, her heels clicking in just the right way to make Genesis behave, lest the sound stop.
It’s why he’d chosen the caves as his secret place. The walls made hypnotic echoing noises when he yelled or stopped his foot. It had satiated an itch in his brain like nothing else could, and when he was in control of that noise? Unparalleled pleasure. Nothing could compete, not even Sephiroth.
He would not necessarily say it was a dirty secret of his. He wasn’t ashamed of allowing himself simple pleasures, and he never would be, but he was distinctly aware that the level of pleasure he got from it was not exactly typical.
Most people who like the sound of heels on hard wood, like it or find it sexy or some such thing. Genesis knew that when he said he liked the sound, that’s what others had thought he meant. Most people didn’t repeatedly yell into an echoey room and get breathless with excitement when the sound reached back to meet them.
Most people enjoyed it in moderation.
“Feeling inferior in size again are we commander Rhapsodus” Scarlet smirked at him as he approached the board room.
“Says the woman who’s made up of more silicone than muscle,” he drawled back at her. She scowled at him.
“I’ll have you know everything about my assets” she framed her chest sensually for effect. Genesis resisted the urge to stick a hat pin in her boob just to watch it deflate like sad balloon. “Are natural,”
He rolled his eyes at her. “Mm, well your assets are in the way of the door. Move,” he shoved past her into the room, ignoring her squawk of indignation when he made her stumble.
He hated the board room for many reasons. The front runner being that it never meant anything good when himself and his fellow first class were rounded up to talk to the president. The fact that the room was carpeted so he couldn’t hear his feet just made it worse.
Sephiroth and Angeal were already at the table. The former typing away on his PHS, while Angeal sat picking at his eyebrows in anticipatory stress. Genesis slid into the chair they’d left between them, feeling a little too happy to be between his boys rather than next to one of them. It made him feel important in the best ways.
“Stop that,” he said taking Angeal’s wrist to pull his hand from his brow. “I refuse to sleep with a man who has no eyebrows,”
“And yet you Sleep with Seph?” Angeal shot back cheekily, making Sephiroth look up and cut him a disparaging look. Genesis snorts inelegantly.
“He’s the only exception to the rule darling. What he lacks in eyebrows he makes up for with his hair and pecks alone.” He snickers and Sephiroth makes a confused noise.
“What is wrong with my eyebrows?” He asks.
“They are very pale,” Angeal pokes back.
Gen tries his best not to brake, “it’s alright darling, we love you despite this one flaw,” he croons, obnoxiously patting Sephiroth’s cheek.
“You are both unendingly insufferable,” muttered the General before turning to lightly bite at Gens palm.
Once affections had been stoked and polite Hellos given to every other person Gen could care less about, the meeting got underway. As they had all predicted it was more conjecture and pontification about what President Shinra expected to come from there efforts to retake East Wutai. The fact that it was not a particularly geo-strategic province seemed utterly lost on the man.
Genesis was getting tired of hearing Lazard relay the same information over and over again as certain members of the heads department put there opinions in where they were not welcome. As if these people had a clue what it was like on the front lines. As if they knew the numbers of men they’d be risking just to take a province for little more than a presidential ego boost. Genesis had just lost a battalion to the Southern Army’s advances and it never felt justified when he pushed open the doors of their strongholds and homes to find mothers and babies laying bloody on the floor.
His leg starts to bounce as he attempted to keep his focus. Bored out of his mind was a state Gen was intimately familiar with, and usually he had no problem showing it, but even he had a modicum of self control when it came to putting on a show for president Shinra.
The man held not only his job but probably his life in the balance at any given time. Genesis was idiotic, not suicidal.
A hand appeared on his knee making his leg stop. Angeal was putting enough pressure on it to hold it still and nothing else. Gens other leg started to bounce for a little while, but the shared look between Sephiroth and Angeal, over his head, meant that it didn’t take long for Genesis to be held down from both sides as the men silently implored him to focus.
It didn’t take long for him to start picking at his nail polish under the table just for something to do. His foot tapped at the floor but no satisfying sound came from it and Genesis had to stop himself from getting out of his chair to pace around the room. He was holding every muscle very tightly, trying desperately to not feel trapped by his lovers hands.
By the time the meeting finally ends and everybody is filing out, Genesis is rocking on his heels in the hall as he stands with Sephiroth while the man makes pleasant with Palmer.
Click, tak, click, tak, click, tak
Sephiroth puts a hand on Gens shoulder to make him stop. Genesis wants to scream, but instead moves away with a feigned glance at his PHS and slipping out of the conversation with a simpering “so sorry, I have recruits waiting for me in the training room.” He’s walking briskly away, the click of his heels soothing his brain as he heads to the elevator and spends a few isolated seconds bouncing on the balls of his feet and clicking his tongue like he’s calling a horse.
This is the bit he’s ashamed of. This is the bit that he can’t explain to anybody. The excess. The need to click his fingers over and over, humming old 80s tunes and making popping noises with his mouth.
He doesn’t know why he does it. Angeal always said he just had a lot of energy; one of his nanny’s had suggested he maybe had something wrong with him. He’d never been brave enough to find out.
When the elevator doors open, Gen shoots out at an impressive walking speed. He’s through the hall and into his apartment bathroom before he really registers it and he climbs into the empty bath tub with little thought as to why.
This room is echoey. He likes it like that. He likes hearing the water sounds bounce around the room and the reverberating sound his belt makes against the tiles when he undoes it.
Sometimes this room is too much. Sometimes the cave was too. He’d have days and days of trying to avoid loud noises and open rooms. Days when little sounds made him want to claw his ears off in a way that not even his beloved clicking heels could sooth. He had days where the only way he could stand to hear people talk was one at a time and in softer tones.
Today he needed more though. Today the sound was not enough and he needed the echoes to devour whatever was trying to break out of his skin.
Click, tak, click, tak, click, tak, click, tak
Snap, snap, snap snap snap, snap
Pap, snap, pap, pop, pap, snap
He’s so lost in the noise, his head back against the lip of the tub, his eyes closed, that he doesn’t realise the doors been opened. Doesn’t realise Angeal and Seph are in the room until he feels a calloused hand in his hair, and another one on his knee. This time there’s no pressure of restraint this time, just comfort, and he opens his eyes.
“Better?” Angeal smiles down at him, brushing his hair from his forehead to kiss it. Genesis hums at the contact.
“I’ll go get dinner started,” Angeal stood and Genesis let him go, looking over at Sephiroth a little sheepishly.
“Sorry,” he murmurs, “I know my clicking drives you mad.”
Seph shakes his head and quirks a lip at him, using the hand not on Gens knee to pull his hair back slightly to show Genesis his ears. In them sat a pair of small noise dampening earplugs usually used for munitions testing.
Huh. He couldn’t actually be mad at that. It felt like a good middle ground.
“I do not wish to upset you,” Seph said, clearly reading Gens face wrong. “I simply thought these would be a good compromise. This way you can click when you need to, and I am not frustrated by it.” Genesis smiled at him.
For all they bickered and challenged each other, Gen was so stupidly in love with him.
“It’s okay darling, you did good,” he places his hand on Sephiroth’s.
“Now, help me out of this thing!”
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hawkins-losers · 2 years
Note
hi could you do prompt no. 12 w robin? thanks in advance have a wonderful week :]
(‘’I’m fine.’’ - ‘’No, you’re not. You’re bleeding!’’)
A/N I got 5 requests of this number for Robin, so here we go!
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-
Above you, the Upside Down sky was thundering loudly, each thunder-clap followed by a red hue in the sky. After freeing Steve from the bats’ hold, you all ran to seek shelter under Skull Rock, waiting for the bats to pass and go. 
A scared Robin was hiding behind you, clutching your shoulder. 
‘’Okay, I think we’re safe to go,’’ Nancy decided, the cloud of bats having flown away from the woods. 
You all stood, ready to head to the Wheelers’ house. Nancy was leading the way, followed by Robin, when you felt a sharp pain in your thigh. You hissed and grabbed onto the rock to keep you standing. 
Being right next to you, Eddie heard you and grabbed your arm to steady you, then alerted the others. 
‘’Y/N!’’ She rushed to your side, her blue eyes filled with worry. ‘’You alright? What is it?’’ 
Back at the gate, you had told her the bats didn’t get you, but they did. One did. It took a generous bite of your thigh, which was currently bleeding and soaking a patch on your jeans. Your crouched down position had made the bleeding worse since flexing was applying pressure to the veins, making you dizzy from the blood loss. 
In your hurry to flee, Robin hadn’t noticed your injury. She didn’t think of asking if you got hurt, too eager to flee those damn bats. She just grabbed your hand and ran. Now, she was regretting not checking on you.
‘’I’m fine,’’ you brushed off. 
That didn’t slide with Robin. 
‘’No, you’re not.’’ Her hands were on your shoulders, doing a full body check for injuries. Her eyes eventually traveled down to your thigh, seeing the blood stain. Ha! ‘’You’re bleeding!’’ 
You suddenly, the world was spinning and you felt a hot flash. ‘’I just need to rest a little.’’ Carefully, you sunk to the ground to sit, keeping your leg down this time. 
‘’These bats must’ve bit you-’’ Robin’s eyes grew round like saucers, cutting herself off. ‘’Oh my god. Do you think these bats have…rabies?’’ 
Your looked at your girlfriend with terror. ‘’Rabies?! Right now is not the time go worry about rabies-’’
She didn’t hear you, continuing to rant about rabies. ‘’Rabies is like, my number one fear. And I think we should get you to a doctor soon because once the symptoms set in, it's too late. You're already dead.''
''That's reassuring...'' Steve commented, getting a stern eye from Nancy. 
If you got rabies from the bite, it meant he did too. 
''The good news is, I'm pretty sure the wooziness is not a symptom of rabies. But if you start having hallucinations or muscle spasm or you start feeling aggressive-''
''Babe,’’ you pressed, stopping her mid-rant. ‘’Shut. Up.'' 
The possibilities of you dying from this bite - or blood loss, whichever came first - were the last thing you wanted to think about right now. 
She nodded, although still not knowing what to do. You visibly needed to clean and bandage the injury, but you were in the middle of the woods and there was no pharmacies nearby or hospital.
Perhaps Nancy had supplies at home?
‘‘Nance, how far is your house?’‘ you asked.
‘‘A few miles.’‘ 
She had kept her answer vague, but you knew it meant more miles than you could walk. The situation was not getting better.
‘’Maybe you could fetch supplies from Nancy’s house and I could stay-’’
'’No.'’ Robin shook her head sternly, not on board with your plan. '’I’m not letting you in these woods. What if the bats return while I’m gone and take another chunk of you? I know you taste amazing, but you’re all mine. I won’t let you be their next meal.’’
The sexual connotation brought a smile to your face, laughing because only Robin could slide sexual references in a serious speech while still being innocent. 
‘’I don’t know, Rob...’’ You twisted your face in pain, feeling something throb in your thigh. 
Was this the rabies spreading? 
‘‘None of that shit, okay? I have an idea! You’re gonna lean on me...and if I can’t carry you any more, Eddie will help. Right?’‘ She glanced at him for approval. ‘‘Right?’‘ she repeated, louder.
‘‘Yeah. Sure. I’ll help.’‘ 
-
Taglist: @broadway-or-noway @violetsleftfist @thelaststraw3  @cursedandromedablack  @Slashersimpfor  @savagejane1   @wh0reforbucknasty   @eddiemunson-slut   @slvdsjjk  @hehehehannahthings  @dreamdancers-world  @grace-loux  @iamharrystyleslover  @matildavol6  @Original_babababoo  @eddiemunsonbby  @notbeforelong  @lexi-2004 @violetrainbow412-blog  @tatespillows  @alwayslexii  @lilygreennn  
Robin Buckley taglist: @uhidklol-26 @prettyplant0   @ran-rap   @eddiemvunsongf    @batorchids222  @scarlet-kazuha  @saphmoth  @uhidklol-26  @you-makeme-crazier  @spongebob-in-the-upsidedown  @swiftbyul  @xenon54xe  @tribute-101  @starstruckspring  @whyamihere2673  @moonlight-imagines  
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lizzisimss · 2 years
Photo
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Chic Single-Sim Apartment
CC used (list below) 2A Jasmine Suites Apartments in San Myshuno 1 bed x 1 bath $96, 138
CC Used*:
brazen lotus - https://www.brazenlotus.com/objects-d... :
· EP09 Second Chance Frame Horizontal
· EPO9 Second Chance Framed Pressed Flowers
· SP13 Laundry Made Delux Towels Stack
· SP13 Laundry Made Essentials Basket of Neat Towels
· SP18 Pictures of Darius 6
ButterScotchSims - https://butterscotchsims.tumblr.com/post/144851621892/some-random-stuff-if-anybody-wants-it-includes
· Patterened Rugs
charly pancakes - https://www.patreon.com/charlypancakes
· Insomnia Merged
· Lavish Merged & Shoes Off Shoes
· Mischellanea Merged
· Munch Merged
· Selection One Merged
· Smol Merged & Wallpaper 1 + 2
· Soak Merged
felixandre - https://www.patreon.com/felixandre
· London Interior
house of harlix - https://www.houseofharlix.com
· Orjanic Merged
· Bafroom Merged
· Harluxe Merged
· Livin’Rum Merged
· The Kitchen Merged
· Tiny Twavellers Merged
harrie - https://www.patreon.com/heyharrie
· Brownstone
· Brutalist Bathroom
· Country Collection
· Halycon Kitchen
· Octave
· Porto
· Stockholm
leaf motif - https://leaf-motif.tumblr.com
· 2202 Magnolia Bathroom
· Old Hat
· Starlight Crystals
· Sunbeam Study
Littlecakes - https://litttlecakes.tumblr.com/downloadspage
· Poor Bunny
· Updated Round Pillow
· Wood Slab Table
littledica - https://www.patreon.com/littledica
· Rise & Grind Café Merged
· Sleek Slumber
· Deligracy Cottage Living Update Merged
· Sweet Treats Merged
Marvell - https://marvell-world.tumblr.com/download
· Cutting Board
· Nom Nom Vase
max 20 - https://www.patreon.com/Max20
· Classic Kitchen
· Holiday Mini Pack
· Master Bedroom Pack
MechtaSims - https://www.patreon.com/mechtasims
· Ghibli Set
· Kitchen Set
· Office Set
MLYS - https://mlyssimblr.tumblr.com/tagged/ts4cc
· Deco Deskop Globe
my cup of cc -https://www.patreon.com/mycupofcc
· Colour Talk Dining Stuff
· Colour Talk Kitchen
· Maple Manor The Modernist Collection
· August 2021 collection
· October 2021 collection
myshunosun - https://www.patreon.com/myshunosun
· Luna
· Serene
· Arrie
· Lottie
oni - https://www.patreon.com/oni28
· Antique Country Dining
· Vintage Living Room
peacemaker - https://peacemaker-ic.tumblr.com/TS4O...
· Atwood Living Merged
· Curtis Seating
· Essa Kitchen Merged
· Futura Merged
· Hamptons Retreat Merged
· Hinterlands Living
· Kitayama Dining Merged
· Kitayama Living Merged
· Lofte Living
pierisim - https://www.patreon.com/pierisim
· Calderone Bedroom
· MCM part 1 & 2
· Oak House All
· Rold Skov Kitchen Mini Kit
· The Office Mini Kit
· Tidying Up
· Coldbrew Coffeeshop
· Winter Garden
rvsn - https://ravasheen.com
· Advent 2020
sixiamcc - https://imfromsixam.tumblr.com/
· Breeze of Greece Buy Mode
· Living Hakone
· Oak & Concrete Kit Merged
· Artz
· Hotel Bedroom
�� Kessler Kitchen
· Luxbath
· Samaraline
· SpringSix Kitchen
TUDS -https://www.patreon.com/TudTuds
· Beam Parte 2 V01 Merged
· Beam Kitchen Complete Set Merged v02
· Cross Merged
· Ema Dining Room v02 Merged
· Ind Merged 02
· Turn Living Merged
awingedllama - https://www.patreon.com/awingedllama
· Apartment Therapy
· Blooming Rooms Plants
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