#like looks very wine aunt shaped

[sometimesanalice]

Oh Christmas Tree

Summary: Bradley’s never been one to look forward to the holidays, that is until he met you. He’s excited to do everything, including getting his very first real Christmas tree.

Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, allusions to smut. Minors DNI.

Length: 7.2K 

Pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw X Female Reader

(What was supposed to be a quick fluffy Christmas fic, somehow turned into this, enjoy!)

The atmosphere at the Hard Deck was livelier than usual, the music seemed more upbeat and the voices a little louder. It was the first time in a while that the entire Dagger Squad was together in one place. News of the success of the Uranium Mission traveled fast and had been keeping them busy in the months that had followed.

Things seemed to settle down a bit as the holidays rolled around, some has dispersed home for Thanksgiving while a few others had been given last minute orders to ship out for a short mission. You’d been dying to take Bradley Bradshaw home to meet your parents in person, but he had been one of the few sent away only set to return the day after Thanksgiving.

You’re sitting across from Natasha at a high top near the pool tables in the back of the bar listening to Jake talk about his visit home, while your boyfriend next to you talks animatedly about something related to his latest mission with Bob.

“I shaved off an extra 5 minutes from the last Trot. Turns out I’m in even better shape than I was the last time I was home for Thanksgiving,” Jake brags smugly taking a swig of his beer from his nearly empty bottle.

“Wait, you come from a Turkey Trot family? That explains so much. Please tell me, you guys wear matching Seresin family shirts for it too,” you tease without remorse. “Oh! Or maybe those turkey leg bobble headbands?” 

You hear Bradley snort into his beer as he drops a well-defined arm across your shoulders. He’s wearing one of your favorite Hawaiian shirts from his collection, and you’ve been having a hard time keeping your eyes and hands to yourself.

“Bradshaw! Are you going to let your girl trash talk me like that?” You turn to Bradley to see him smirk with a shrug at Jake’s indignation.

“I mean, if the headband fits,” he replies lifting his bottle up in cheers.

“Darlin’, you wound me. And for the record they don’t match, since we all get to decorate our own with those paints in the little squeeze bottles,” he says pointing his empty bottle at you before turning to Bradley, “And see if I ever save your smug ass again.” He walks away making his way to the bar for another beer.

“Formal petition to change his callsign to Turkey now. Him and Rooster could be the Bird Bros,” Natasha jokes after he’s out of earshot. “What about you, how was your trip home?”

“It was pretty good,” you feel Bradley start playing with the ends of your hair, while he picks his conversation with Bob back up. “Since my sister had the baby, my parents have been leaning into the new grandparent thing pretty hard. So I set to establishing myself as the fun wine aunt, and basically drank cranberry mimosas all day.” You pause to take a sip of your drink, “Which I regretted immediately the next day when my parents decided it was imperative that we all go to their favorite Christmas tree farm as soon as it opened to cut one down together. Baby’s first Christmas all.” You unlock your phone to pull up the folder you made of pictures from the visit, handing over your phone to let her scroll.

“Since they’re flying out to spend Christmas with my sister and her in-laws in Philly, I tried to talk them into an artificial tree. Which is blasphemy where I’m from, I’m pretty sure the state tree is the Douglas Fir. My family takes the tree hunt very seriously, there’s a science to it and everything,” you lean over to swipe past some of the selfies you took to show her the completed tree in your parents sitting room. 

“However, as you can see, my attempt to talk them into the lower maintenance, yet slightly ostentatious, fluffy pink tree of my dreams was met with a hard pass,” you say laughing to yourself.

She swipes backwards a couple times on the pictures. “This one is cute, why didn’t you post this photo?” she asks holding your phone up showing a selfie of you at the tree farm.

“Which one? Let me see,” Bradley requests, his conversation with Bob now abandoned. He’s already leaning into you and reaching across the high top with his large hands to take the phone from Nat.

It was a photo of you that Bradley hadn’t seen before. You were pink nosed wrapped up in cozy looking scarf, surrounded by pine trees and grinning into the camera. And his heart swells at the sight of the image before him. It’s just so you.

“You really look pretty,” he states sincerely. He glances at you briefly to see a hint of a blush spread across your cheeks before turning his gaze back to the picture of you.

He’d known you had been just as eager as he was for to him come home with you to meet your parents in person. You had even concocted a plan that involved him to try and help you get your hands on your Aunt Christine’s corn soufflé recipe.

“My mom has tried to get it for years, and she refuses to share it with anyone!” you’d lamented to him one evening after a couple large glasses of wine. “She always says she’ll email it, but she never does!” You gesture wildly. He loved getting to know all sides of you, but two-drink you was a particular favorite of his.

“Mmm. Girlboss, gaslight, gatekeep,” he nodded along in solidarity.

“Exactly, Bradley! You get it!” You take another long, deep sip of your Merlot, your feet tucked under you on his couch. “Me with my wiles and you with your Rooster charisma, I think this might be the year! I’ll set the groundwork and you can lay the ruggedly-handsome-impossibly-sexy-American-hero-thing on thick,” he loved how animated you were getting and he was having a hard time keeping the indulgent smile off of his face. “And she’ll fall right into our trap and release the goods all while thinking she’s staring in her own Hallmark movie.” He knew he would do anything for you, what his girl wants she gets. If that involves some light to heavy flirting with your aunt, so be it. He was getting soufflé recipe for you one way or another.

However, those plans were quickly dashed when he got the mission orders at the last minute. His stomach was in knots when it came time to tell you, but you were quick to put him at ease by reminding him there was always next year. “Plus” you’d said, “it gives us a whole year to craft our Stealthy Soufflé Scheme. Although, maybe we can pop up in May or June? I want to show you all the sights, we can even go hiking! And I’m definitely planning on taking you on a beer tour.”

“That sounds like the perfect trip, Sweetheart. I’d love that. I’ll see about getting a request submitted first thing in the morning,” he was already setting a reminder in his phone so he wouldn’t get too distracted at work and forget. He wasn’t going to let you down again.

“Oh. That’s probably one I snapped really quick and forgot to send to Bradley. I was probably already spamming him too much as it was,” you answer in response to Natasha’s question. Even though you knew exactly why that one never made it his inbox.

Since you’d be spending the holiday apart, Bradley had requested that you send him pictures throughout your visit so that he didn’t feel like he was missing anything. You had sent him ones of you at the grocery store with your mom, of you holding your niece, a few silly ones fueled by too many champagne heavy mimosas, and some less family friendly shots of you in bed wearing the deep wine-colored lacy lingerie set you had planned to surprise him with. And then a few without the lingerie set too.

You had known he wouldn’t have the best reception, so you sent them as things happened knowing that he’d respond whenever he could. You just wanted them there waiting for him. However, a few days in was getting hard to know what was too much when all you could see were all your outgoing messages to him.

You had felt yourself getting a little self-conscious and started second guessing the things you sent, like the picture from the tree farm. You didn’t want to go overboard and scare him off or make it seem like you were rubbing his face in all the things he was missing while he was on assignment. You had just wanted him to know that you were thinking about him- which was pretty much all the time.

Turning your head to take him in next to you. He’s sitting there with a soft smile on his face while he is tapping away on your phone. When his phone lights up mere moments later, you realize he’d just sent the image to himself and was now paging through the folder looking for others.

“For being a Communications Specialist, you’re really bad about updating your own social media. That one was definitely worthy of making it to the grid,” Nat announces as she slides off the barstool taking Bob with her to go dominate on one of the pool tables.

Bradley hands you your phone back. “You know, I’ve never been to a Christmas tree farm. Or even had a real tree for that matter,” he murmurs a bit ruefully when it’s just the two of you, picking at the label of the bottle Natasha had left behind.

“When I was younger we only ever had a fake tree. And then after my mom passed, everything with Mav, and moving around so much I just kind of didn’t ever want to think about it. I never thought to get anything for myself.” He lets out a breath, shaking his head slightly. “I’m really happy you’re sticking around to show me the ropes this year,” he says earnestly, sounding much lighter than before.

The thought of him fending for himself for so long makes your heart hurt. You lean into him pressing a lingering kiss to his cheek. “I’m happy you want to spend the day with me,” you tell him brushing your nose against his as you pull away. 

“I did my good daughter duties, but flying home during the one of busiest days of the year was enough for me. And I wouldn’t want to subject you to the Richardson’s by going to Philly, my parents call them the Dickardson’s for a reason,” making a face that causes him to laugh.

“We’re going to have the best Christmas together, I wouldn’t want to spend the day with anyone else.” This time when you pull him in for another kiss your lips are eager to meet his. The slide of his mouth against yours never fails to make your heart beat wildly in your chest.

You could spend days kissing Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and never want to break for air. It’s only at the sound of someone’s loud wolf whistle that you break apart as you’re brought back the moment.

“You know, I’m still not over the fact that my girlfriend withheld such ‘compelling content’ from me,” he teases, using air quotes the buzzwords he’s heard you say from listening to one too many of your late night zoom meetings.

“It was the last day! You were getting in before me, and I thought you’d want the real deal instead. And to tell the truth, I didn’t know if I was overdoing it. I didn’t want to make you feel left out,” you explain honestly. You’ve always been the type to keep those insecurities to yourself, but you’ve been trying to do better. He makes you feel safe enough to open up without holding back.

“Sweetheart.” He picks up your hand his mustache brushing the back of it as he places a kiss there. “You could never overdo it. Spam away, send me everything. I love getting those pictures, it makes me feel closer to you. But, I do know how you could make it up to me.” As he sends a mischievous wink your way.

You’re hit with a brief vision of you on your knees before him in that wine-colored set he still has yet to see in person. 

“Oh, do you?” You ease off your stool to stand in front of him, his legs automatically widening for you to step in between them.

“Wanna come help me pick out a tree this weekend?” he asks, slipping his hands into the back pockets of your jeans to tug you in even closer. “I hear you know a thing or two about picking out the best one,” his eyes crinkle around the edges as he smiles broadly at you.

You don’t bother fighting back the grin that takes over your face. “Stick with me, kid,” you say taking his sunglasses from where they rest against his chest and sliding them on, “I won’t lead you astray.” 

Bradley had the best afternoon learning the ins and outs of selecting the perfect tree at the tree lot with you. 

He had found a tree place with a festive name that was about 30 minutes away, it was probably a bit different than what you were used to, but he hoped you’d be happy with the options there. He had even called in advance to make sure they had the specific variety your parents usually got after texting with your dad to find out what he should be looking for.

He had wanted to pick you up from your apartment, but you had insisted on meeting him at his place since you had an early work meeting scheduled in the morning. And had greeted you with a coffee in hand from your favorite shop when you arrived.

He’d even worn the plaid flannel shirt you had bought for him when you were visiting home for the occasion. When he parked the Bronco in the lot, you had giddily exclaimed, “Bradley, look at all the trees! There’s way more than I thought there’d be. It smells like home!” 

Once you were both out of the car you had grabbed his hand threading your fingers between his, and set off like a woman on a mission. He’d felt rather pleased with himself. 

The outdoor speakers were playing the local Christmas radio station and there were rows and rows of trees under a few large white topped tents. He loved how seriously you were taking this, and if he wasn’t already totally enamored with you this would have sealed the deal.

You’d taught him how to determine its freshness, “You have to pull a needle off and see if it bends or snaps. If it snaps then it’s already way too dried out and you’re just purchasing a giant match stick.” 

From there the came the scent test, “Now sniff the tree, you have to get your face in there. The stronger the tree scent the longer it will last.” 

And finally, the aesthetics. 

“I like mine a little girthy and on the fuller side, but that’s all a matter of personal preference. You want some gaps, so that the heavier ornaments can hang better, but not too many. And the top has to be straight, no one wants a lopsided tree topper.”

“That’s not the only thing you like full and girthy,” he couldn’t help but let slip out.

“Bradley, there are children here!” you admonished while looking around wide eyed, but that didn’t stop you from grazing the front of his jeans every chance you got.

So, when he managed to find what you excitedly deemed to be the “absolute most perfect tree!”, he couldn’t help but preen his face feeling a bit warm from the attention and praise you showered him with.

He’d hauled the tree up to the check out where it was bundled while he paid, and then carried it over his shoulder out to the Bronco. You’d trailed behind him carrying the wreath you’d picked out humming along with the music.

“Is there such a thing as a competence kink? Because this,” you had mused gesturing to him tying the tree down in the back, his hands tingling, “is definitely doing it for me.” He had just grinned and shaken his head at you, his face heating up a bit. However, he couldn’t help but flex a bit more for your benefit as he finished up.

And when you made him pull off the road less than 10 minutes later, to indulge in that new self-discovery with your mouth around his cock, well that was very much for his benefit.

Now you’re with him at his place.  You guys had wrangled the perfect tree into the house and had gotten it set up in front of his windows in the living room near the upright piano he had tucked in the corner. He loved the smell that was filling the room and the way you’d lit up once it was in place. If he had his way, you’d be around all the time.

Bradley could hear you singing along to the Christmas album he had picked up that was playing on his Dad’s old record player as you worked on putting together some hot toddies in the kitchen. You had put him on light duty, and he was determined to make it the best-looking thing you’ve ever seen.

He worked going round and round the Christmas tree, the lights all shining merrily. He took his time making sure to wrap and tuck the lights around the branches, the cozy glow filling his chest with warmth.

But the longer he worked the more he was starting to get worried that he was coming down with a bug or something, his face starting to feel slightly feverish. His throat getting thick and uncomfortable.

He’d noticed it earlier at the tree lot, but didn’t want to give it too much thought. The Navy had ruined his Thanksgiving plans with you and he didn’t want to let you down again. He worked to string lights on a few more branches adamant to push through for you. 

“Sweetheart,” he reluctantly called out to you, “I think I might be coming down with something. I’m not feeling too hot, and my throat is kinda scratchy.” The guilt was starting to settle in the pit of his stomach, maybe if he rested now he could keep it from getting too bad.

He turns to see you coming out of the kitchen with two steaming mugs in your hand, your eyes going wide.

He turns back to the tree looking to see if he accidentally fucked something up. It was his first time with a real tree, maybe the lights needed to be strung differently.

“Bradley. Oh my god.”

You had just put the finishing touches on the hot toddies and were already walking out of the kitchen when Bradley had called out to you. Those beverages were quickly abandoned on his coffee table as you propelled yourself towards him.

His face was brightly flushed and his eyes were shade of red that made your own itch in sympathy. You reach up to tug at the collar of the flannel he was wearing to get a better look at the skin of his neck and chest. The scars on his neck were standing out in contrast to his reddened skin.

“Sweetheart, what are you doing?” Even his voice was sounding a bit scratchy. You ignore him in favor for undoing the buttons at the cuff and rolling up the sleeve of his shirt, trying to not let yourself get too anxious. “You tryin’ to get me to put these lights up topless like some kind of sexy Santa?”

You shush him as you finally get the sleeve rolled up when your suspicions are confirmed, his thick forearm is absolutely covered in angry looking raised red welts. 

“Oh no. Roos, baby. You’re breaking out.” Already pulling him away from the 7-foot issue occupying the living room and heading towards the kitchen, “I think you have pine tree allergy.” 

He finally looks away from your face and down to his arm, a deep furrow settling over his features, “Oh fuck.” You get him seated at his oval oak dining table grabbing your phone to figure out what to do next.

“Yeah, ‘Oh fuck’,” you repeat back to him eyes skimming the information on the page you clicked into.  You’ve always been the type to take charge in a crisis, this would be no different. You’d make sure he’s taken care of the way he needs to be. The way he deserves to be.

“How’s your breathing feel? Is your throat feeling tight or like it’s closing up?” you ask looking up at him.

His red-rimmed honey eyes seem to shift focus like he’s lost in thought for a brief moment.

“Rooster.”

He shakes his head. “Sorry, baby,” he says a bit bashfully. “I’m used to being the one levelheaded in stressful situations, but you should see the intensity on your face. I think you coulda been a pilot.”

“Bradley, I’m flattered. Truly,” you’ve learned that he isn’t the type to say things he doesn’t mean and you respect the hell out of what he does. “Although I’m sure there are a few more qualifications I’d have to pass than that,” you reply lightly, petting the back of his hand resting on the table. “But I need you stick with me here. I just need to figure out if we need to get you to the ER or not.”

He nods. “It’s a little thick, but not like it’s going to close up. And really scratchy, ‘s all.”

“Ok, that’s good. That’s good,” you repeat again more to yourself than him. 

You love this man so much, and he deserves the world. This is the last thing you would have wanted for him and his very first, and last, real tree.

You can still hear the record playing in the background as you try not to gnaw on the inside of your cheek working to put your game plan together.

After firing off a quick text to Jake, you quickly pop upstairs to Bradley’s medicine cupboard, hoping that he has some antihistamines tucked away in there. You breathe a sigh of relief when you see the pink box, grabbing it you tear off a couple squares from the silver lined sheet to bring back to him.

He’s still sitting where you left him at the dining table. He’s slumped down in the chair his mouth pulled down at the corners, and you think it’s probably because he’s not feeling the greatest right now. You hand him the meds and a fetch him a glass of water, watching as the tendons of his throat flex as they work to swallow the pills down. The red welts have finally made an appearance there too, and are an angry contrast to his usually golden skin.

“Let’s get you out of these clothes, hmm?” You bend down to catch his eyes with your and holding out our hands to him. He nods once taking your smaller hands in his as he lets you pull him up. 

You help him to unbutton and remove the flannel shirt trying to avoid further contact with the hives on his body, not wanting to cause him anymore discomfort. Once his wide chest and arms are uncovered, you work his jeans down his thick thighs leaving him in his tight black boxer briefs. There’s nothing more than you love than being up close with Rooster’s body, but right now you’re on a mission and can’t be distracted by all the skin before you.

While you’re still feeling concerned for him, you can feel your anxiety starting to settle a bit from where it was at earlier. You’ve got a plan, you’ve already checked off a few things, and you’ll be able to take a breath once Bradley is taken care of.

He’s ruining everything with you. First Thanksgiving and now Christmas. 

How the fuck did he not know he was allergic to pine trees? He’s 35, he should known those kinds of things by now. Shouldn’t he?

He is frustrated as fuck laying on top of the king-sized bed in his darkened bedroom, the stinging of the hives on his arms and upper body were driving him crazy. God, his eyes itched and burned. Although, he couldn’t tell if it as from the reaction to the tree or from fighting the sudden urge to cry for the first time in a very long time.

The afternoon was not going as he had envisioned it. He wanted to sing some carols loudly while getting tipsy off hot toddies with you. Dance with you in between hanging ornaments on the tree. Maybe fuck you under the tree if he played his cards right, he wanted to be the one to get your tinsel in a tangle. 

All he had wanted was to make you happy. You weren’t spending Christmas with your family, and he didn’t want you to miss out on anything being in California with him instead. He was really excited about the holiday for the first time in what felt like forever, and it had everything to do with you.

“Do you have any oatmeal here?” You had asked him not too long ago, and it was all he could do to point you in the right direction as the guilt was eating away at him. Once you had found it, you had sent him away to go upstairs to get him further away from the tree. His strong, capable, and pretty girlfriend was left to deal with the mess downstairs without him. 

He could hear the whir of the blender and wondered what you were up to. Sulking at the fact that all he could do is wait for the antihistamines to kick in, and hope that he’d be feeling better soon so that he could help you take care of things.

“Bradley? Baby, are you awake?” You entered the dimly lit room cautiously, approaching him gingerly on the bed and holding a large bowl with something fluffy and powdery looking in it. He hadn’t heard you come up the stairs.

He loved the sound of your voice. He loved it in the morning when it was thick with sleep, how excited you got when you were talking about something you were passionate about, and he especially loved the breathy whispers and words of encouragement from you in his ear late at night when he was moving so deep within you. What he didn’t love was being the reason you were so anxious, that he was at fault for why your tone was so laced with concerned. 

“Yeah,” although he was starting to feel sluggish, “’m still awake.” He felt your cool hands on his face and leaned into your soothing touch, pressing a kiss to your palm.

“I’m going to make you an oatmeal bath,” you informed him gesturing to the bowl in your hand. “From what I’ve been reading online that should help calm down the hives, hopefully stop them from spreading anymore.’

“Okay, Sweetheart,” he sighed. He can hear how pitiful he sounds, but right now his girl is the only thing that is making him feel good, and he will do anything you ask of him.

You set about turning the taps on for the large tub in the bathroom, twisting the handles to get the water to come out at the right temperature. Once you were satisfied, you swirled in the oat powder you had made watching as the water turned cloudy, then headed back into the bedroom to get Bradley.

“Let’s get you in the tub so you can soak for a bit, yeah?” He looks so miserable alone stretched out on the bed. “It’s not too hot, and it should help you feel better,” you help him to sit up placing a kiss to the lines of the scars on his cheek trying to comfort him.

Ever the soldier, he dutifully follows you into the bathroom. Once he is stripped of his briefs and comfortably situated in the milky mixture, his eyes flutter closed as he reclines back, leaning his head against the ledge of the tub. You move kneel on the floor next to him running your fingers through his sun-streaked waves.

Your little pocket of peace is disturbed a few minutes later by the ding of your phone.

“Jake just got here,” you announce filling him in on the next part of your plan, “He’s going to help me with the tree.” 

“’posed to be my job,” Bradley sulks making a petulant sound in his throat. You can’t help but let out a gentle tsk while fighting back a small smile at his response.  

“I just want you to relax here and let the oatmeal do its thing. I’m going to get things wrapped up downstairs it shouldn’t take too long, and then I’ll come back to check on you.”

“Mmhm, fine,” he sighs as you press a kiss to his forehead.

You let Jake in and he is quick to jump in taking over by unwinding the lights off from the partially lit tree. He’s even quicker to haul the massive thing out of the house and into the back of his truck, as the new owner of the 7-foot Noble Fir. After the tree is deposited, he heads back in and helps you coil the lights back up so they’re not in a tangled mess on the floor making some light small talk because he can tell your mind is elsewhere. 

On his way out the door he shoots you a cocky salute, a shit-eating grin already plastered on his face.  “You can thank my new Trot PR for how quickly I was able to run back to my place after I got your SOS text to get here as quickly as I did, Darlin’,” he drawls. 

You flip him off, but tell him to text you what meals he’d like you to make and bring over later in the week as thanks for his help. And with a quick kiss to his cheek, you shoo him out the door wanting to get back to your boyfriend.

After he leaves, you break out the vacuum and work on getting the needles off the ground before moving on to the laundry. You grab the pile of Bradley’s clothes from the floor in the kitchen where you had left them before stripping down to your underwear, throwing everything in the washer and turning it on to get rid of any potential lingering irritants.

You make you way back upstairs, stopping to slip on one of Bradley’s old UVA t-shirts and grabbing him a loose pair of navy sweatpants, before going in to check on him. He is still there soaking his head tilted back and eyes closed, just as you had left him. Thankfully the hives have seemed to stop their spread leaving his face untouched. His neck, chest, and arms still bearing the brunt of his allergic reaction.

You gently knock on the door to announce your presence, not wanting to startle him. “You ready to come out now, baby?” Before him you had never been a pet name person, but now all you wanted to be a source of comfort in his life. A soft place for him to land.

“Yeah,” he turns his head towards the sound of your voice, “I think I might be getting a bit prune-y, but that felt really good. Thank you, Sweetheart.” He has finally opened his eyes and looking right at you, with a smile small and soft, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. 

You’re trying not to read into it too much, not wanting to let your anxiety get the best of you. You help him up from bath and use the handheld to first shower him off, grabbing a fluffy towel to help gingerly pat him dry. As he bends to pull on the sweatpants you had brought in you turn to rinse out the remaining oatmeal residue from the tub. He presses a kiss to the back of your head as he passes by you to make his way back to the bedroom.

By the time you’re done he has already climbed into bed, the comforter on your side already pulled back as he reaches out for you to get in with him. The white percale sheets you had helped him pick out were cool and luxuriously soft to the touch, and you feel yourself release the breath it felt like you’d been holding since you entered the living room holding those long forgotten hot toddies.

Bradley is quick to lace your fingers together and tuck his face into the space between your neck and shoulder, his mustache ticking the soft skin of your throat there. For all of his golden retriever energy, he is soaking up your affection and attention like a lap cat as you slowly rub your free hand up and down his broad back.

However, he’s still entirely too quiet. Your lips press tightly together on their own accord as you begin to think that there’s something more on his mind that he’s not sharing with you than just the effects of the hives and double dose of Benadryl.

You’re about to speak up when he beats you to it, “I’m so sorry, Sweetheart. I just wanted you to feel at home and now I’ve ruined Christmas.” You’ve never heard his voice sound so small.

Oh. Oh no.

“Bradley, please look at me.” 

You lean back a bit as he removes his face from the spot it was tucked into and study his beautiful yet troubled looking eyes. “Is this why you’ve been so quiet? Please tell me you haven’t been spiraling thinking you’ve ruined anything.” He looks away, and you feel your brows scrunch together.

You cup his cheek in your hand, running your thumb down the cleft of his chin, “I love you so much and we’re going to have such a wonderful Christmas together, a tree is a nonissue here, baby. You matter more to me. I hope you know that.” His gaze finally meets yours and you continue on, “I need you to hear me. You’ve got absolutely nothing to apologize for. Nothing is ruined and nothing that happened today is your fault. Ok?” Nodding your head, needing for him to understand and let go of his misplaced guilt. 

You see the exact moment he absorbs and believes everything you’re saying to him, his shoulders releasing the tension that had gathered there. “Ok, I hear you.” You lean into him to place a tender kiss on his lips. “I love you so much,” he breaths against your mouth.

“I love you too,” you say pressing one more lingering kiss to his lips before encouraging him to settle his head back down again. He reaches for your hand, guiding it to his hair, prompting you to comb your fingers through his curls. 

“Now that we’ve settled that, how are you feeling? What else can I do to help?” 

“You’ve done so much for me,” he murmurs kissing your neck gently. “’M just tired now and want to hold you for a bit. The Benadryl is starting to kick my ass.” He pauses for a moment, “But maybe we can order some pizza, Sweetheart? And put on one of those Christmas movies you like? Y’know the ones where the people live in a town is named something like Tinselville and their dogs fall in love?” He asks his voice sounding a bit boyish and hopeful. 

You can’t help but let out a giggle because, really, his description is not too far off. You can feel his smile against the side of your neck as you turn the tv on.

“You can have whatever you like, handsome boy. Pizza and Oscar quality Christmas content, it is.” You grab your phone unlocking it and opening up to the delivery app, when Bradley plucks it from your hand tossing it to the side and placing his in yours instead.

“Order from mine instead, it’s my turn to take care of you,” he states slinging his arm low over your hip.

You click the button on the side to wake his phone up only to see your face smiling back at you on his lockscreen. Nose bright from the cold, surrounded by trees, and wrapped up in a scarf your mom had loaned to you since you hadn’t brought any practical winter-wear home with you.

It’s the picture that Bradley has sent himself the other night at the bar, and you’re flooded with a rush of affection for the man nestled against you. You notice his wallpaper is still the picture of you and him from this Halloween when you’d surprised everyone by dressing up as him, he’s kissing you squarely on the mouth while grabbing a handful of your ass. It was one of your favorites too.

You’d just finished submitting the order, when a text from Jake comes through, and you roll your eyes.

Those 5th Gens didn’t get you, but you’re taken out by a fucking a Christmas Tree. Would hate to see what one of those tree shaped car fresheners would do to you.

You’re not going to let him come for your boyfriend, even in playful roasting, when you just managed to picked his spirits up. Not tonight, Hangman. And you set to typing your response with your one free hand, the other still carding through Bradley’s curls. 

Listen up, Lieutenant Turkey Trot. I was planning on surprising you with a bottle of that Texas bourbon you like when I swing by with the food later this week, but now that’s up to you. Do with that what you will... xx

Not bothering to wait for a response you hand Bradley back his phone only to see it light up again. “Lieutenant Turkey Trot,” he snorts, “Damn. Hangman apologized. And he says he wants a lasagna and your chicken and dumpling casserole.”

Southern men are too easy. Nothing is as important to them as food and their mamas. You smile smugly to yourself, making a mental note to go to remember to stop by that speciality liquor store by your place.

The food is delivered not too much later, you and Bradley eat in bed the box sitting between you while making fun of the plot of the movie you had turned on. You can tell the Benadryl is staring to win when Bradley’s running commentary tapers and his breathing begins to even out.

“It’s ok to go to sleep, baby.”

“Just resting my eyes, wanna see if they figure out why the poinsettias aren’t blooming.”  

“You should get your rest,” you gently press, “I’ll set record it and you can find out tomorrow.”

“You’re gonna stay the night, right?” He asks sleepily as he concedes and begins to burrow down into his bed.

“Of course. If you want me here, I’ll stay.” Truth be told, you liked his bed better than yours. You’d even went back to the shop where you’d helped Bradley pick out his sheets from and bought the same percale set for your place in an attempt to help you sleep better.

You set an alarm for earlier than you’d like, remembering you have a meeting first thing in the morning. “I might have to leave a bit earlier than usual though,” you mention softly, “Since I’ll need to go to my place before I have to head in to the office.” You hadn’t originally planned on staying over due to your early morning and now you were kicking yourself for not grabbing a few things to keep in your car just in case.

“Yes. Stay,” he murmurs and reaches out to you, wrapping his arm around your midsection and pulling you to his chest. You let your fingers trace lightly down his forearm, feeling the hills and valleys caused by the welts that litter his arm. He lets out a hum of contentment in response, you’re pressed so close to him you can feel the vibrations of the sound from his chest against your back.

You think you’ve finally lost him to sleep when he mumbles already half gone, “Why don’t you keep more things here?” You can feel his warm breath against the back of your neck.

“How much were you thinking? You saying you want to share a drawer with me?” you lightly tease.

“Bring it all,” he sighs, “Want you here.”

The sound of his soft snores filling your ear only a couple minutes later.

You don’t bring up Bradley’s half-asleep musings, you won’t hold him to anything said under the influence of the antihistamines. While the thoughts of moving in and living with Bradley made your heart beat a bit faster, you kept those hopes tucked away just for yourself.

It was now a week after the pine tree debacle, Bradley’s hives were quick to clear up after a couple days and a few oatmeal baths later. Your skin was still reaping the benefits of the oatmeal too after he managed to coax you in with him one evening. 

He had texted you earlier in the day asking for you to swing by his place after work. You knew the door would be unlocked for you, and you let yourself in.

“That you, Sweetheart?” He called out from nearby, you can hear the sounds of some crooner singing in the background.

“Yeah, it’s me." You set your purse and work tote down before bending to undo your heels at the door. “Hey, I was thinking on my way over here, I bet lots of places still have artificial trees left in stock that we could get. I feel like we need a Christmas redo.” You get one off and begin working on the other, “I was planning on getting one to liven up my place too, maybe I can find one of those ostentatious pink ones I tried to talk my parents into getting and fulfill a lifelong dream.” You say that last part with a little laugh.

You finally win the battle against the top buckle of your cute shoe finally kicking it off and wiggling your toes out, “Ooh! Maybe we can go to that cute cocktail bar off 17th afterwards? One of my coworkers was talking about their new seasonal drinks today and it seems festive.”

You fish your phone out of your purse and make your way to the living room, “That is if you didn’t have anything planned.”

Your voice trails off at the end because when you round the corner you find Bradley in his living room looking very proud with a self-satisfied smile on his face already standing next to a Christmas tree.

A very large, very fluffy, pink Christmas tree.

You stand there entirely stunned. The juxtaposition of your tall, handsome naval aviator next to this truly over the top frosted tree has your brain working overtime. The entire room is cast in a dreamy glow from many strands of white lights he had already spun around it.

“I still feel bad that about what happened the other weekend, and I wanted to make it up to you. At the bar, I heard you telling Phoenix that you always wanted a pink tree, so I hope this is similar to what you hand in mind.” He seems to be getting a bit nervous now, since all it seems you can do is just blink at him. He reaches around into his back pocket pulling out a small tube, “I even got some of those scent stick things to tuck in if you-” 

He doesn’t get to finish since you’ve launch yourself at him.

“Bradley!” He catches you easily with one arm as you begin peppering his face with kisses.

His laugher fills the room and his grin lights up his face at your reaction, “Are you happy, Sweetheart?”  

“I’m the happiest! Oh my god! Are you for real?” you exclaim in between kisses. You stop the assault on his face to take it in your hands, “Seriously though, there is nothing to feel bad about. You’re what matters most to me. I mean, yes, I absolutely love this. But you should have what you like too.”

He takes a step back, with you still in his arms and propped up on his hip. He thoughtfully studies the tree in front of you both. “Yep. This is definitely the perfect tree,” he declares proudly, “It’s full and girthy. Has some good gaps, and look at that top. Straight as an arrow. Although we might need to get some more decorations for it, but I got it started.”

You look from him back to the tree puzzled, since you don’t see anything on it aside from the lights. He walks you both closer, and pulls off what looks to be a strand of curling ribbon with a shiny silver object dangling from it from a branch on the tree. 

A key.

He sets you down back on your own two feet, holding you close against his body bringing his forehead to yours. “I meant it, Sweetheart. Bring it all. There’s nothing I want more than for you to be here. All the time. With me. You’re the only thing on my list this year, you’re all I want. Will you let me give you more than a drawer?” His honey brown eyes gazing at you hopefully.

You already knew what your response would be even before he pulled that key from off the tree, and the answer must be all over your face because Bradley’s face breaks into a beam as he picks you up and spins you around.

The choice has always been easy with him, it’ll always be a yes.

Happy Holidays, everyone!

Causally hyper-fixating over all things TGM at bradshawburner

You can find the prequel to this story here!

Find out what happens during their second Christmas together here!

You can read more of my stories here!

#bradley bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw x you #bradley rooster bradshaw x reader #bradley bradshaw fanfiction #rooster x reader #rooster x female reader #rooster x you #bradley bradshaw x female reader #bradley bradshaw imagine #top gun fanfiction #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #hello december playlist challenge

[fafnir19]

A Boyfriend for Christmas

"I'm dreading going home," Anna sighed as we strolled through the twinkling Christmas market, her expression heavy with impending holiday interrogations. "The moment I walk through the door, it's going to be non-stop questions about my love life. And if they find out I'm still single, they'll be lining up potential suitors for me." I gave her a sympathetic pat on the back. "I get it, Anna. Family can be quite invasive sometimes." A mischievous glint sparked in Anna's eyes. "I did hear about this mystical shop that sells clothes capable of transforming people for a limited time. Imagine if we could make you into the ultimate boyfriend just for the holidays." We both laughed at the absurdity of the notion, minding that I was gay.  However, the idea lingered in our minds. As the days passed, the whimsical notion of presenting me as her boyfriend for the holidays turned into a more serious consideration. And with my playful personality, I was more than game to give it a shot.

Walking into the shop, the enigmatic salesperson informed us that we needed to choose an entire wardrobe, as the clothes would determine the extent of my temporary transformation. To regain my original appearance, I would simply have to put my original clothes back on. Jokes and playful banter filled the air as we selected the garments, crafting the stereotypical image of a perfect son-in-law for me. Our choices ranged from a football jersey for Anna's brother John to a skimpy swimsuit to cater to her aunt's flamboyant taste. Each item was carefully considered, from the perfectly tailored suit to the elegant cashmere sweater. The process of selecting the attire felt like piecing together a puzzle, each garment a crucial part of the transformation I was about to undergo. The enigmatic salesperson's guidance and expertise in selecting the right attire filled me with anticipation, and as I donned the final piece—a sleek, tailored coat—I felt an electric surge course through me. In that moment, the air crackled with energy, and as I stepped in front of the shop's mirror, I beheld a stunning suitor reflecting back at me. The transformation was beyond anything I had anticipated. Every piece of attire had worked its magic, molding me into the embodiment of a modern-day prince charming. The clothes had not just dressed me; they had shaped and molded my very essence, infusing me with a newfound confidence that I had never experienced before. As I looked at myself in the mirror, I felt a slight erection in my pants and said to Anna, "If I wasn't already gay, I would become gay now!" Anna laughed and replied, "Hey, don't forget that you're my boyfriend now, at least for the holidays.”

The Christmas celebrations unfurled as planned, and everyone adored me as Anna's "boyfriend". Twinkling fairy lights adorning the market square and the scent of spiced mulled wine lingering in the air. Families bustled around, children's laughter harmonizing with the cheery tunes of carol singers. As we made our way through the bustling crowd, I found myself embracing the role of Anna's steadfast companion, warmly interacting with her relatives and effortlessly blending into the familial embrace of the season. The crackling fireplace in the living room cast a comforting glow, and the festive aroma of roasting chestnuts and cinnamon-infused desserts infused the air. Laughter and conversations wove a vibrant tapestry of togetherness, and the twinkling Christmas tree served as the centerpiece of our joyful gathering. Throughout the evening, I basked in the warm embrace of Anna's family, each moment adding depth to the fabric of our elaborate charade. To our surprise, Anna’s brother John even invited me for a skiing trip in January.

Later that evening, Anna and I shared a laugh about how crestfallen her family would be when she broke the news of our fabricated breakup.

Once back at home, I seized every opportunity to utilize the magical clothes, transforming into the striking suitor every weekend and reveling in a series of successful  romantic gay escapades.

When John called to extend an invitation for the ski trip despite Anna and my faux relationship, Anna couldn't care less and encouraged me to go. The skiing trip was an undeniable blast for me, thriving on the attention and revelry.

Upon returning home and changing back into my original clothes, I was startled when my attire transformed into a preppy ensemble, yet I remained in my stunning form.

Puzzled, I returned to the shop, where the seller simply shrugged and explained that frequent use could lead to permanent transformations. I was about to argue, but my mind was inundated with new thoughts. Suddenly, I found it impolite to cause a scene and began yearning for a family and children. Before I could dwell on it, John called, inviting me to party with him. I eagerly accepted, pondering the prospect of finding a woman for a future family or at least a fleeting encounter.

As I departed from the shop, the seller slyly made a call: “Hello Gerald, everything went according to plan, Louis is ready for use. Send your daughter Sophie out on the party circuit tonight and I can promise you that Sophie will be married to Louis by Christmas next year. And I assume that at least the first grandchild will be on the way by then.”

#male tf #male transformation #personality change #gay to straight #tf by object #boyfriend tf

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds, shitty parents, nightmares, 

Summary: You're pretty sure you know the question and the answer, just not when it's going to get asked and how.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist 

Chapter 17

Word Count: 4.0k

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For the next couple of days after Rooster and Lydia's wedding you're on alert, as though Jake could propose at any minute based on his comments at the wedding. He wasn't exactly subtle.

Jake is immensely creative and no doubt has a plan,and your imagination runs wild with possibilities. Not that you're nervous or would say no, you just want to feel prepared and ready. He of course picks up on your mental state and has a little fun with it.

First, you and Jake meet up for dinner at the tapas place where you had your first date after work one night. Which would be a very reasonable place to propose. You were almost sure he was going to do it when he walked back to the table and in between you taking a sip of wine and looking back at him he had gotten down on one knee and was….tying his shoe. When you coughed on your wine, Jake looked up at you with a raised eyebrow and gave you that signature smirk. 

Then the day after that you came home and were greeted by the homey smell of Italian food.

"Ooh, what's cooking?" you asked. Jake kissed you on the cheek and answers,

"Special family recipe."

You raised your eyebrow, certain that he was making Nonna’s special marriage sauce. With great flourish, he pulled the lid off the pot and said,

"Yes, Aunt Jilly's meatballs." 

He tried to look totally innocent and just laughed at what must have been the irritated look on your face.

The next evening as you're about to leave to go grab a drink, he called you into the bedroom,

"El, I've got a question for you." 

At this point you thought, 

"Finally".

When you walked in he held two polos up,

"Which shirt do you think goes better with these pants?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He didn't even try to play it off as anything other than teasing.

"The blue one," you leaned over to whisper to him, "If you're trying to drive me crazy in a not good way, you're succeeding."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, literally batting his eyelashes at you

He relented for the next few days, thankfully before you smothered him in his sleep or asked him to marry you first.

When you get home from work, you notice something on the front door as you approach. There is a red ribbon hanging from the door with a paper airplane at the end. On the wing, there is Jake's neat handwriting simply stating, "Open Me."

You carefully unfold the airplane and read the text inside:

Where we had our first kiss. 

The memory of that first kiss after he walked you home from the Padres game and dinner flashes through your brain, a warm feeling forming in your chest. 

As you open the door there is a photo of Jake and you at a Padres game hanging inside. Looking at the house there is red ribbon everywhere. It looks like one of those laser security grids people have to weave through to steal a diamond. The ribbon zigs and zags to the coat hooks, and then under and over the end table, up to the mantle piece and then under all the cushions of the couch. You find the second paper airplane on the couch. When you unfold it, you read:

Where I made you come for the first time.

You blush thinking of that moment from your first night together and where your underwear ended up after that. Eager to see where all this leads, you think you know, you chase the ribbon as it continues on the floor and up the wall over picture frames and into the guest room. The ribbon is simply shaped into a heart on the floor, it exits the room and heads towards the bedroom. You have to duck and step over ribbons a couple of times to get through the bedroom door. A picture of you and Jake from the vintage air show from early in your relationship, a selfie in front of a B-17, is hanging from the door frame.

You chase the ribbon around the bedroom, sliding under the bed at one point. There is another airplane sitting on your bed. You unfold it:

Where we made love and said I love you for the first time.

On the bed next to the paper airplane is a photo from Texas of you kissing Jake on the cheek as he's laughing. The memory brings a smile to your face.

The ribbon snakes out of the bedroom and surprisingly into the bathroom. The next airplane makes you laugh out loud, the sound echoing off the hard walls of the bathroom, because of course this would be a core memory Jake keeps in his brain. The airplane reads:

Where you gave me a blowjob for the first time (in the porn shower.)

He has hand drawn a winking face under the message. You pick up the trail of the ribbon and it winds its way out of the bathroom and over to the end of the couch. The paper airplane is sitting on top of a pillow next to a picture of you and Jake with your arms wrapped around each other on the front porch of the house. Unfolded the paper reads:

Where you asked me to move in with you.

The ribbon continues on in a circuitous route around the living room going under the armchair. Picturing Jake snaking the ribbon all around our house makes you laugh. The ribbon trails into the kitchen and briefly makes a stop in the fridge where there is a bottle of champagne and a container of what you assume to be Nonna's Bolognese sauce. The ribbon goes through a few cabinets and then into a pot on the stove. You make sure the stove is off and then you pull the lid off.

This airplane reads:

Where I made Nonna's special Bolognese for you.

There is a picture of Jake, you, and Nonna from Thanksgiving all laughing as the picture is snapped sitting in front of a canister next to the stove. Jake stands behind you and Nonna, towering over with his arms wrapped around you two.

The ribbon loops a few times around objects in the kitchen and under the dining table and through the chairs till it is finally tied in a bow at the door handle to the patio.

One last plane is tucked into the door jamb. You've figured out where this is heading and your heart starts to beat faster as a flood of giddiness overwhelms you. You race to unfold the last paper airplane.

It reads:

Where I asked you to marry me and you said yes.

Your heart is fluttering as you open the door as fast as possible and step out to the patio.

Jake is kneeling on one knee on the patio holding up a small open black box. He uses his free hand to wave you over. When you are close enough he takes your hand.

You look down into his impossibly green eyes and see his trademark confidence on display. He is very sure of what's about to happen and so are you.

After what feels like minutes to your rapidly beating heart he finally speaks,

"Every day I'm with you is a treasure and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Elsa Samantha Matthews, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and partner in life?"

You're of course crying by this point and it takes you a second to squeak out,

"Yes, of course."

Jake leaps to his feet and sweeps you up in his arms for a deep kiss. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours,

"You said yes."

"I did. You were very sure that I'd say yes, some might call that cocky," you tease.

Jake laughs, 

"Sometimes you just know, that's confidence. I also think it's a question you don't ask unless you know the answer."

You just kiss him back in reply. Jake remembers he's holding a box he reaches down for your left hand and pulls it between you.

"Here let me put this on my fiancee," he says as he slides the ring up your finger. You hold your hand out so you can look closely at the ring. It's a simple platinum band with a group of diamonds in different sizes arranged asymmetrically, arranged around the largest stone. It's unique and perfect.

"I like the sound of that. Jake, this is beautiful. It reminds me of a constellation of stars."

"Yeah? That's what I thought when I saw it," Jake replies. You can tell he's pleased you like the ring.

"I recruited Lydia for some help, you don't wear a ton of jewelry so I needed a little guidance on picking a style."

You lean over to kiss him,

"That's sweet, what advice did she give you?"

He chuckles, 

"Don't buy her something over the top and gaudy, find something with a silver metal and unique," you nod your head in agreement, he continues, "I texted so many pictures to her picking out stuff, finally found this one at a goldsmith in La Jolla. When I sent it to Lydia I just got a 'Nailed It' back from her."

Jake keeps talking, 

"I thought a lot about different stones, diamonds can sometimes feel a little overdone. But the more I thought about it I thought a diamond would fit you really well."

"How so?" You're curious what he's going to say.

"I just kept thinking of a phrase I'd heard before. The brightest diamonds are formed under the most pressure. You've become this amazing person despite all things that were forced to deal with and overcome to live your life like you wanted to, the pressure, so to speak."

Another tear rolls down your cheek and you place your hands on each side of Jake's face, 

"You are an amazing person and I'm really touched you put so much thought into asking me to marry you. You are a wonderful, caring, and loving man, Jake Seresin,and I am over the moon that I get the privilege to be your wife."

He wraps his arms around your waist,

"My wife, El. That sounds so good," he barely gets it out before he is kissing you with his full passion. Jake pulls you closer so your hips are aligned and as close as possible. His hands start to slide under your shirt on the soft skin of your back.

He starts walking you backwards into the house towards the bedroom. You feel something at your back and start to laugh, 

"Jake, the ribbons," you get a muffled response from where he is likely sucking a hickey at the base of your neck. "They're still all over."

He remembers and laughs as he pulls away to squeeze through, helping you  slide through the matrix of ribbons.

You make it through the web of ribbon and are standing in the middle of the bedroom unable to stop kissing and separate long enough to get off your clothing. You are pulling at the bottom of his uniform shirt when you finally break apart enough to pull your clothes off.

Once you and him are finally stripped bare, he takes your hand and kisses it just above the ring. Jake lays down and pulls you down to him. His face is wide open with love and his panty dropper smile.

You lightly push him on his chest and lean over to kiss him. Jake's hands cradle your head.

As you part for air, Jake says, 

"We're getting married."

You can't help the smile that is plastered to your face,

"Yes, we are. Right now I want to be ravished by my fiance." 

You slide your hand down to his cock, already hard and wanting. Jake starts at the contact when you wrap your fingers around him.

"The metal on the ring, feels different," he manages to breathe out. He sits up on his elbows and looks down to where you are stroking him at a slow pace.

"Not going to lie, you holding my cock with my ring on your hand is really hot," Jake says before collapsing on the bed. You go to open your mouth and before you can say anything, he has wrapped his arms around you and rolled you so that he is on top. He gives you an intense kiss and then kisses his way down your body.

"I want to taste my fiancee and feel her come on my face. Sound good, fiancee?" he asks, smirk firmly in place when all you can do is dumbly nod. All the blood in your body having left your brain the instant he parted your folds with his finger. You feel his huff of a laugh right before he engulfs your clit with his mouth, his finger pushing inside you, a second one joining moments later. Your hands snap to his head threading through his hair. You look down relishing the sight of Jake pleasuring you and you notice the ring picking up stray rays of sunlight in the room.

Jake's pace is increasing in time with your moans, the tightness building inside you,

"So close, so good, Jake," you pant out.

He adds a third finger and curls his fingers up and hits a spot that triggers your climax. Your legs clamp around his head as the wave rushes over you, incoherent moans falling from your lips. When you come back to earth, Jake is kneeling by your waist, looking at you with a look of utter adoration.

"God, El, you're so beautiful," he says softly. His hand smoothing the planes of your stomach up to your face. You take his hand and kiss the palm and pull him up to you. 

"I need you inside me, fiance," is the best you can come up with with your post orgasm brain. Jake obliges and gently parts your legs and guides himself into you. His pace is gentle and rhythmic, he keeps his face close to yours, his breath ghosting across your cheek.

Your brain finally formulates something resembling a thought.

"Jake, I love you so much. I get to be your wife," you whisper as you move against each other. He kisses you deeply before leaning back enough to slide a hand to where you are joined and begins to rub your already sensitive clit. You clench around him after the first touch, pulling a deep moan from him.

It doesn't take long for you to shatter again, this time looking into Jake's eyes as he follows you with his release inside you. You stay joined as the aftershocks roll through.

He rolls off to the side of you and pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head as you settle your head on his chest.

When your breathing slows to normal, Jake takes your left hand into his threading your fingers together.

"You look really good wearing only that ring," he jokes.

"I think it might get a little cold," you kiss his chest,

"So, how do you want to tell people? You want to stay in our own little bubble for a while or do you want to shout it from the rooftops?"

Jake laughs, 

"I feel like shouting it to the whole world, but we can probably do better with a few video calls."

"Well, we could probably put some clothing on, make the phone calls a little less awkward,"  you tease. Your stomach growls, and Jake responds,

"We should also eat something, I've got some of Nonna's sauce in the fridge. Let's boil up some pasta and throw a salad together while we celebrate our engagement."

You slip out of bed and pull Jake with you. You get dressed, slightly nicer than what you usually put on for just hanging around the house knowing you're going to be on video. Very carefully you pull the ribbons down to be able to walk through the house, you're left with a big heap of ribbon that you leave in the office.

"How much ribbon did you use?" you ask, impressed by the pile.

"Five or six 150 yard rolls? I've got a few more in the closet. Not sure what to do with it all," he answers.

"Maybe we could use it in our wedding?" You notice how Jake's smile broadens when I say 'our wedding'.

Jake whips up dinner in record time as you get some champagne flutes out and uncork the champagne. You pour each of you a glass and you toast.

"To a lifetime of love, happiness, and great sex," Jake says without a hint of irony, making you almost spit out your drink laughing.

"I'm not sure that's the wedding toast to use, but you've got time to figure out something more appropriate."

"Speaking of that, what's your vision for the wedding? I'm curious." Jake asks as you eat.

You ponder for a minute, 

"Probably on the smaller side, ceremony outdoors, fun reception, nothing too stuffy, mostly. I haven't thought of a lot of details, just the overall feeling of it. You?"

"Similar, although probably more people, my mom's side of the family is at least 40 people if you include kids. Speaking of which, do you want it to be an adults only wedding or have kids attend?"

"Definitely kids, I'm not giving up my opportunity to see you dance with Ellie and Gigi. That would be so damn cute."

Jake looks relieved, 

"That's good, the best weddings I've been to have been the big Italian ones with all generations attending."

You've finished eating; Jake takes the plates and loads them into the dishwasher as you put away the leftovers.

"So, who do we want to call first?” you ask Jake.

Without a second of hesitation, Jake says, 

"Nonna, I promised her she'd be the first to know when we got engaged and you do not break a promise to an Italian," his voice sounds particularly serious, "Especially an Italian grandmother, I'm pretty sure she's still angry at my great aunt Susan for taking her ice cream when she was a kid."

You laugh at the idea of Nonna being angry at Jake for anything. Jake takes a photo of your hand and texts it to Nonna, with the message 

"Video call when you can."

"Your grandmother texts?" you ask.

Jake just laughs, 

"She has a Twitter account, that's how up to date she is."

Seconds later Nonna's name pops up on the screen, Jake accepts the call and you are greeted by Nonna's smiling face.

"Hello Jakey and Elsa, I take it you have news to tell me?"

Jake and you respond over each other as you hold up your hand, 

"We're engaged!"

Nonna beams with happiness,

"Congratulations, I'm so happy for you two, so in love, it's wonderful."

She points at the phone presumably at Jake, 

"I told you the sauce would work, Jake, another happy marriage to add to the list."

There's a muffled voice off camera, "Ma, who are you talking to?"

You recognize Aunt Nancy as she dips her head into the frame. You're still holding your hand up and she laser sights on the ring.

"That mean what I think it means?" she asks.

Jake responds, 

"Yes, Elsa has made me the happiest man on earth and said yes to being my wife."

"Oh, that's so sweet kiddo, I knew it wouldn't be long the way you two were at Thanksgiving," Nancy replies, the joy apparent on her face.

Jake interjects before anyone can say anything else, 

"We'll let you go, we're going to call Mom and Dad. Don't spoil the surprise, I know you two."

Nancy and Nonna look a little sheepish and you laugh.

"Let's call your parents before we get scooped by your Aunt and Nonna," Jake nods his head in agreement. Jake dispenses with the text and goes straight to the video call.

Sharon picks up and you see she's at home in the kitchen,

She is her usually chipper self, 

"Hey Jake, hi Elsa, what's up?"

"Anyone else there with you?" Jake asks.

"Oh yeah, the whole gang's here," she swivels the phone around and we can see Mike, Alicia, the girls, and Tom sitting at the kitchen table. She turns the camera back,

"Good, less phone calls tonight. You can tell Ellie and Gigi that they will soon have an Aunt Elsa," he's smirking knowing it will take them a little bit to figure it out.

Ellie's voice shouts over everyone else, 

"They're getting married, he did put a ring on it!”

You hold your hand up, 

"Yup, we're engaged!"

There is a roar of congratulations and "oh my gods" and then the phone is quickly whisked away from Sharon and you see Ellie's face briefly before it lands on Mike and Alicia smooshed together.

"Congrats!" Alicia offers, Mike just says, in older brother fashion, "Finally."

Jake sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"We've got a few more people to call, so we'll let you go. Mom, I'll call you tomorrow," Jake wraps up the call.

"Let me text Lanie," you don't want to disrupt her if she's in the middle of a tattoo. You text a picture of your hand and the ring.

You don't have to wait long, a video call come through and you can see Lanie smiling,

"Finally! So happy for you and Jake, aww, I get a bro in law now, awesome. Just what I've always wanted."

"Aww, I get a pesky little sister now, just like I've always wanted. I'd give you a high five right now, but that's a little hard through the phone," Jake jokes.

Lanie's head is pushed to the side and joined by one with blue eyes and blond hair.

"Hi, I'm Sophia. Congrats, ooh I like your ring," she says as she jumps into the conversation. Lanie raises an eyebrow and taps her temple like she's storing some information for later.

"Thanks, nice to meet you, at least through video," you let her know.

"I've heard so much about you guys, looks like we'll be heading your way for a wedding," Sophia has sat down next to Lanie and thrown her arm around her.

Lanie jumps into the conversation, "Sorry to let you go so early, but we have a dinner reservation to get to. I'll call you tomorrow, Elsa. Congrats on making my sister an honest woman, Jake. Bye!"

Jake and you are laughing as Lanie hangs up.

"El, not to be a downer on this joyous occasion, but do you want to tell your parents?" Jake asks tentatively, his hands interlacing with yours.

You think for a moment, 

"I should, it might be a wake-up call for my mom, and at least my dad should know. I just don't want to talk to her right now."

You pause and think of the best way to contact them, 

"I'm going to go the easy way out of this and just text them. That way I can control the communication."

"That sounds good, your terms." Jake has moved to rubbing a soothing circle on your back. You lean over to kiss him before you write the text.

Group Chat: 'Rents

You: Jake and I are engaged. More details to follow.

You hit send and let the tension zip away with the electrons sending the text to Michigan.

"That's done, what next?" you ask Jake, " I figure we'll tell Rooster and Lydia tomorrow when we meet them for dinner."

"Lydia is going to freak out, she's been texting me daily to man up and do it finally," he lets out a long sigh,

"As for the rest of the evening, I've got a few ideas of activities I would like to explore with my fiancee.”Jake is wearing a devilish grin that brings a smile to your face.

Elsa's Ring

Chapter 19

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mamachasesmayhem

@callmemana  

@dempy

@hangmanscoming  

@lanie-k 

@callsign-viper  

@senjoritanana  

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

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@mygyn

#top gun maverick #hangman #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun smut #jake seresin x you

[lamemaster]

The Prince My Sister Speaks Of

Pairing: Rog x Reader'

Summary: Rog carries within his heart these stolen pieces of you. He has loved you from the very first moment of meeting you. His affections for you, however, remain a well-kept secret.

AN: I really wanted to participate in this event. So, here's my entry.

Rog pines. He does so as his hammer shapes the seething metal, he does so as he sits in lengthy meetings. He would rather perish pining for you than witness another fate.

For a looming hardy smith, Rog's heart is nothing but the softest cotton for you. It blooms from a single glance by you and weaves itself into a thread to make a tapestry of you.

Even now as you chase after a giggling princess Idril, Rog's eyes follow your every movement. You are Lady Elenwe's sister, thus, Idril's aunt.

You had left Valinor following your sister. Rog wasn't there to witness your journey or your loss. His life had started on the shores of Middle Earth separated by seas, it was a wonder that Rog's path had somehow met yours.

You carry in you the light of Aman. The entire city of Gondolin knows of you. King Turgon's sister-in-law, who resides in the world of dreams.

A romanticist. You are a dreamer. A soul who walks the paths of Gondolin with a skip in their step, crouching among stacks of books all detailing deeds of love. During dark solitary nights when most scurry to light lamps or find comfort in their homes, you are found staring dreamily into the sky that holds all of Varda's creations.

Maybe that is the reason why King Turgon entrusts you completely with his treasured daughter.

You have looked after Princess Idril ever since your sister's death. Not even an ounce of darkness has come to the princess in your wake. It is said when the entire family grieved for Lady Elenwe's death, you were there holding on to your niece, singing her a soothing lullaby.

Rog carries within his heart these stolen pieces of you. He has loved you from the very first moment of meeting you. His affections for you, however, remain a well-kept secret.

The room pulses with an inexplicable heat, perhaps a result of the wine flowing freely among the company. King Turgon succumbed to intoxication long ago, his alcohol tolerance no match for the revelry.

Glorfindel and Ecthelion remain locked in conquest over the coveted loveseat. The others have long abandoned any attempts to intervene, letting the two elves sort out their seating dispute in their own boisterous manner.

Penlod, wisely, chose solitude over the rowdiness of the gathering, seeking refuge in this quieter corner. Meanwhile, Egalmoth has shifted his focus from the merriment to engage in what seems like profound conversations with the sapphires adorning his crown.

And then there's you — comfortably nestled on the chaise, a half-filled glass of wine cradled in your hand, your cheeks flushed from the abundant indulgence.

Yet, amid this chaotic scene, a world-altering event remains unnoticed by the intoxicated crowd. Rog, a pillar of unwavering composure, sits with unflinching poise. His back is as straight as a spear, seemingly impervious to the revelry around him. The wine in his glass ripples with the faint tremors he can barely conceal.

The epicenter of this upheaval? You. Leaning heavily against Rog, your head rests trustingly on his broad shoulder. Your hair cascades like a waterfall down his back, and the warmth of your breath skims his neck as you mumble incoherent words.

For Rog, each beat of his heart resounds louder than the clamor of his own forge. Your hushed, unintelligible utterances, so close to his ear, send ripples of both trepidation and exhilaration through him.

"She said emm she said... that I would marry a prince," your tipsy murmurs reach Rog's ears, your lips brushing temptingly close. He takes measured breaths, attempting to steady his racing heart as your ramblings persist. "Elenwe said that...," the mention of your sister stirs an involuntary twitch from Turgon even in his slumber, though you seem blissfully unaware. "but prince work in forge like Feanor did...then are you the prince? My prince?" you query, your voice a delicate melody that winds its way into Rog's very soul.

A prince...a concept so alien to him, a notion he could have never imagined. You, who were not born of royalty, now address him with a term that feels foreign yet tantalizingly sweet. As you delicately set aside your glass, Rog's world shifts. Your warmth leaves him, though the lingering sensation of your touch remains etched upon his skin.

Turning back towards him, you rise unsteadily, your hands finding purchase on his sturdy shoulders. Your bleary smile, a radiant beacon amid the haze of the room, holds a magnetic pull. Rog's lips twitch, the desire to mirror your expression warring with the taut control he maintains.

Your hands cup his rugged face, drawing his gaze into the depths of your eyes. In this intimate moment, your voice is a whisper, softer than a sigh, "Will you be my prince, Rog? Will you fulfill the prophecy my sister shared? Will you wed me?" The words hang in the air, untainted by the usual lilt of jest or the haze of inebriation. They are a genuine inquiry, vulnerable and heartfelt.

Rog's heart, once a forge that shaped the mightiest of metals, now hammers erratically within his chest. His dark eyes, a reflection of his internal turmoil, search yours for any trace of jest or illusion. But what he finds is unwavering sincerity, a truth that cuts through the haze of the evening.

From the stacked towers of your books to the winding paths of Gondolin your eyes always find him. The Lord of the house of Hammer of Wrath.

You can't help but muse about the way his eyes shine under the light of the Sun. Or how desperately you ward off elleth lingering about his forge.

These days even your darling niece, Idril finds immense joy in rushing into her father's office specifically during meetings with a certain lord. And you can't help but follow Idril with a fluttering heart.

On starry nights with no company in sight, you can't help but ask Elenwe, "Is he the one your stories spoke of?"

#the silmarillion #noldor elves #silmarillion x reader #rog #rog x reader #house of the hammer of wrath #underratedcharacterevent

[tcfactory]

Looks at how the next chapter of In Tune is shaping up.

On a scale of one to why, how would you feel about Shen Qingqiu getting accidentally (not really) adopted (kinda. only if he wants! consider it, master Shen, it's for your own good!!) into Mi Chun's fox-demon clan? (He can blame it all on Wu Yanzi.)

----------

"You see, daozhang, my aunt and her maid tried to seduce a shady cultivator once. He was a tricky bastard, however, and mixed corpse powder into the wine they were drinking, then generously offered up his shack so they could sleep off the horrible sickness and headache the powder caused. He even helped them braid their hair for the night and then retired outside to guard them. Believing him fully under their charm, they let him do all this, but come morning they realized that he stole not only the whole length of their braided hair, but two handfuls of fur from their tails where it was the most lush! What do you think of this, master Shen?"

"You know, that does sound like something Wu Yanzi would do."

"Ah, so you do know him! Wonderful! Where is he now?"

"This one killed him. He tried to attack someone that was mine."

"Hmm, I see. That does make this a little tricky... we have been robbed of our revenge! But you are imbued with my aunt's essence, master Shen. If I accept you as part of the clan, then vengeance was claimed by one of our own and all is good."

"And if I refuse?"

"Well, I'm feeling very charitable in this moment, so nothing. But when the moment passes I will tell my aunt about you and once she is done taking over our clan from my wastrel of a father, she will find you and kill you to reclaim her essence. :)"

"Riiight. Let me. Consider the generous offer for a moment."

#shut up tc

[satans-helper]

Reaching for Stardust - Part XV

Read Looking for Space here / Playlists / Read RFS on wattpad

Word Count: ~3700

Warnings: none

Sorry for the delay, folks. I've been bopping between this series and my Sanny one and we're nearing the true climax of RFS, which has made me want to slow down posting a bit. The past few days have been very difficult and I will be struggling for a little while longer, so the next chapter may also be delayed. Thank you to those who are still reading along. I really hope you're enjoying this sequel <3

---

There was still so much to be jam-packed into the matter of what became just about a couple of months. No matter how much I ever tried to “relax” or slow down, it felt like there were still a hundred things I had to do. My focus was perpetually disconnected from work, although that felt more and more like a good thing–it was everything else besides work that solidified its importance. Namely family and friends, of course. Josh recovered completely, and quite quickly, from the little bout of pneumonia and then we were thrown into the midst of the couple’s shower. I discovered it really did involve being showered with gifts and with family being there, and I personally was spared from more sexual gag gifts and things that, generally, no parent or aunt or whoever needed to see. Josh and I could save all of those for ourselves. 

Josh was the only boy–man, whatever. He would always be a boy to me, and I meant that with the utmost affection–there. We sat on the couch in my aunt’s living room, the female relative who had the most space for this flurry to take place. She was all decked out for Christmas, which was also right around the corner–a long, fluffy fake fir garland snaking around the white mantle with an array of shiny colored, round ornaments dotting it and reflecting in the mirror above it. Instead of any overhead or tableside lamps illuminating the event, we were all sitting and hovering in the glow of white Christmas lights wrapped around the mantle and strung over the windows, plus the white lights wrapped around the real pine tree in the corner between the windows that bounced off more glass ornaments. The scent of the tree was still strong with it being so fresh and I thought about how our woodsy lodge wedding would smell–hopefully a lot like that, I concluded, like sharp, cool pine and sap. 

The mulled wine in my glass smelled excellent too, a warm, sweet contrast to the Christmas tree. I took a sip, a slice of orange bobbing against my upper lip, while Josh opened what felt like the hundredth gift. I had no idea where we were going to put some of this stuff. My aunt had given us a really nice looking toaster–sleek and white, brand new and shiny–but we already had a toaster. We’d been given a new coffee machine too, and it made me question if being an adult meant just tossing out old stuff and replacing them–sometimes unnecessarily–with shiny new toys. But as the unwrapping and revealing went on, the gifts got smaller and more personal, truly beginning with something special my mom had picked out for Josh.

“Oh wow, this is lovely,” he remarked, peeling the blue tissue paper away. “I’m stunned. Thank you so much.” He lifted up a white silk robe monogrammed with a gold “J” on the back. It was a small and tasteful touch, not a garish, giant letter smacked on the back, but just a subtle detail right below the back of the collar and then another on the front, stitched into the breast pocket. His hands moved over the fabric slowly, always wanting the most tactile experience–he cared about material far more than color most of the time, craving rich and fine fabrics against his skin. 

My mom handed me a box that matched the shape of Josh’s next: “And this one's for you; you might be able to guess what it is.”

I certainly could, but actually seeing and feeling the coordinating black silk robe with my own silver initial monogrammed was a delight. “These are awesome,” I said. “Thanks, Mom. We needed new robes anyway, actually.”

“Yes, we did,” Josh agreed, carefully folding it up and tucking it back into the box. “Mine is unraveling into shreds.” 

My sister’s gift came next–a beautiful black and midnight blue photo album, the black bottom fading up into a blue with tiny silver stars stitched into the canvas. In more silver thread it said, “To the Moon & Back” and, beneath that, it was finalized with our monogrammed initials. Josh and I leaned over it as I held it in my lap, mesmerized, and Kirsti told us that she’d already printed a few pictures and put them in to begin the album curation. I flipped to the first page and there we all were–Josh, myself, the boys, my sister, and all three sets of parents. 

“This is so sweet,” I said, staring at that picture of all of us as one big happy family. “I love it so much. It’s perfect.” 

After my aunt’s living room became full of torn-up wrapping paper, Josh and I took a breather on the back porch, drinking more wine and nibbling on crackers and cheese in the cold. A small layer of snow was stuck to the yard, the deck, the roof–the world was coated in it and the world was quiet. Bare trees held no birds, no wind whipped through the naked branches and there wasn’t even the sound of a single car rolling through the street out front. 

“You know something?” I began and Josh looked at me, pausing, eyes bright, with a cracker between his lips. “None of our parents are divorced. Isn’t that pretty rare? Seems so against the odds.”

Josh chewed, swallowed, then dabbed his mouth with a napkin. “We have some excellent luck on our side then, perhaps. Our predecessors all succeeded–why can’t we?” He wrapped his arm around my waist. “Of course we will. It’s not even a question.”

“Soulmates,” I said, the puff of condensation from my breath covering the word with a little resolute cloud. 

“Soulmates,” he echoed, squeezing my waist. 

A little while later, Josh and I were pouring over some of the gifts again in front of the empty fireplace. My mom sat down on the arm of the couch next to me. “I know you two said you’re not really looking for houses at the moment,” she began, pulling out her phone. “But I saw one that I think would be really cute.”

“I mean, I think we’re open to it,” I said, looking at Josh, who nodded. “I did like the one I saw back in the spring. But it just wasn’t the right time. It sold, anyway.” 

“Very quickly,” Josh added. “And for more than we could afford.”

“Well, look at this one.” My mom handed me her phone and folded her hands in her lap, watching me as I brought the phone between Josh and I. It looked nice from the outside, simple and cute, and it was in our price range at least according to Zillow, but it didn’t call to me. I could tell it didn’t call out to Josh either.

“I think we’re far more fixated on the honeymoon,” Josh told my mom. “We still haven’t figured out what to do and that’s where a good chunk of our savings will go.” 

“Even with the help from you and Dad and Josh’s parents,” I added, handing the phone back. “I think maybe we’ve been so busy with the wedding planning, our brains haven’t had much of a chance to work out where we want to go or what we want to do.” 

“We’re between something like a cabin in the woods. A nice little quiet retreat,” Josh explained, gesturing even more than usual with the aid of the wine buzz. “Or a hot, beachy getaway. It’s difficult to choose right now. The possibilities are sort of endless.”

“There’s no time constraint,” my mom reminded us. “Inspiration will strike you and you’ll figure it out.” She laid a hand on my shoulder. “I just know you two get a little cooped up in that apartment. If you want, we can always take the honeymoon money and put it into a house for you.” 

It didn’t even feel that long ago that my mom was criticizing Josh, saying he wasn’t serious enough, thinking he was too silly. Now here she was, offering not only financial support but emotional support. Things really were all coming together. That, in addition to my own wine buzz, made my heart feel all warm and fuzzy. 

Back home, I was fully sober and quite tired from the festivities. We unloaded the car and set boxes and bags in the hall and the living room and our space suddenly seemed so much smaller. It got me thinking–did we want a destination honeymoon, really? Did we want it to be something we’ve done before, like a winter cabin or a sandy beach, or something completely new? There were cities we’d never been to. We could go to Europe–maybe. That seemed expensive. Vegas, even. Seattle. There were options. Or did we want our funds and the financial help from family to be put into a house and, subsequently, would that new life project become the honeymoon itself? 

“Alright,” I said, sitting down on the floor amidst the gifts. “I’m getting stressed out again.”

Josh sat down next to me, pressing his back against the couch. “By all this new stuff?”

“There’s that. There’s also all the decisions we have left to make.” I scooched back to sit right next to him, our legs touching. “Part of me feels like we really do deserve a break. Part of me also feels like we deserve a house, but then I know we haven’t even decided exactly where we want to live. Part of me also wants to say fuck it and just like, go on tour with the boys for six months or whatever.”

Josh chuckled, putting his hand on my thigh. “If we could both swing that, we would do it. As for moving somewhere else, like to the big city,” he said, waving his other hand around with each word. “That would probably take more time. I’d have to secure another job.” 

“You could become the band’s professional photographer and videographer,” I suggested, only partially kidding. 

“Let’s go to the desert,” Josh said suddenly, sounding sure and emphatic. “We have so much winter every year and especially this year. We’ve never been to the Southwest–what do you think? Cacti and scorpions and scalding sunshine?”

I’d written about the desert before for work–scanned images of flat banks of red sand with impossibly clear blue skies, the sky a backdrop to sudden, staggering, rocky mountains, giant cacti looming menacingly in the foreground, rattlesnakes and desolate highways leading to mayhem. I could picture Josh and I there. It would be like an entirely different world. 

“Yeah. I’m into it,” I told him before I allowed my thoughts to unravel any further. I rested my head on his shoulder, looking out the window at the sky that was too dark, too early and the snow clinging to the glass. “Desert daydream. That’d be really fun.” 

He climbed right over me, straddling my thighs. “Really?” 

Hands instantly moving to his hips, I said, “Hell yeah. That’d be so cool, Josh. I was just thinking earlier how maybe we should do something totally different, right?”

Josh placed his hands on my shoulders, arching his back. “We can be cowboys–what do you think of that?”

I smiled, reaching one hand up to gently tug at his hair. “I love that. You’re gonna look so good in a cowboy hat and those fancy boots.” My other hand drifted to his ass, giving it a squeeze. “Want me to be your horse?”

He laughed, the sound like bells in my ears, and kissed my cheek. “You’re my partner,” he said, then lifted his hand to tip an imaginary hat on his head. “Howdy.”

I laughed too, hugging him closer to me. “Howdy right back at ya.” I closed my eyes and tucked my face against his neck, his hair brushing against my temple, my hands pressed flat against his upper back. “I know it’s almost all we do now–getting ready for all of it, making the plans–but sometimes I still can’t believe all of this is happening.”

“Same for me,” Josh said, reciprocating the hug in his own snug, determined style, like he never wanted us to be apart in any way. “It’s been a long and marvelous road. Some trouble along the way, of course, but we’ve just shown there’s nothing we can’t charge through. Always victorious, right, darling?”

“Always. Always, always.” I sighed, opening my eyes to peek at the gifts around us again. “So should we really get rid of our toaster? It’s been through so much alongside us.”

“Well, I’m pretty sure it’s choking to death with burnt bits we can’t get out,” Josh replied, eyelashes fluttering against my skin. “Perhaps we can give it a last hurrah with some cinnamon toast tonight but, yes, I think that new toaster was actually quite a poignant present.”

I hummed, closing my eyes again. “Cinnamon toast sounds good.” I gave him a squeeze before I patted his back. “If I could carry you to the kitchen, I would, but this horse just ain’t that strong.”

Josh chuckled sweetly and stood up, feet planted on either side of my thighs, to extend his hand down to me. I slid up in the scant space, our bodies still so close, and he twirled around to lead the way into the kitchen. Our too-small but lovely, comfortable kitchen, where he pulled out the old, tired toaster from its cabinet and began to cut thick slices of French bread. Another light snowfall was coming down outside, the fluffy flakes lit up by the lights outside our apartment, and I thought about how nice it would be to be spared from the inevitable upcoming storms that came with the dead of winter–those long, blue, dreary months that felt inescapable. Those months that dragged down even Josh. We could escape to bright sunshine and golden landscapes, bask in warmth on another adventure. The adventure that would punctuate the biggest adventure of them all, the adventure that would last a lifetime or, quite seriously, eternity. 

With the night deep and dark, we laid in bed surrounded by the blue Christmas lights we’d both hung around the bedroom. I lifted my hand to my face, admiring my ring as it caught that artificial celestial glow: “You’re picking up your ring on Monday?” I asked Josh as I slid mine off to place on the bedside table. 

“Yes indeed.” He rolled onto his side and snuggled into mine. “I think you’re going to like it.”

“I know I will,” I said, running my fingers down the chain around his neck. “It’s coming up real soon, Josh. Are you nervous?”

“A little. You know I’m going to be nothing but a bundle of nerves the day of.”

“Me too,” I said, thinking about the vows I was still working on. I felt so confident in every word so far, just not so confident in saying it amidst a large group of people. That fear still lingered, itched in my brain each time I went to work on them. “But it’s gonna be so good.”

“Oh,” Josh said, looking up at me, cheekbones cut with blue light. “It’s gonna be the best. We’re all going to have such a ball. We don’t have to worry about THAT.”

Forever feeling calm in his presence, his body so warm against mine, I asked, “Do we have to worry about anything at all?”

“Absolutely not,” Josh assured me, his voice getting a little rougher with sleepiness. “Never.” 

And so I believed him. 

-

I was, however, just a little worried about sledding. Although Sam had taken it upon himself to find the best, tallest, most majestic snow-covered hill for all of us to repeatedly slide down, the thick cove of trees down at the base seemed a little foreboding. Just far enough to be acceptable; just close enough to seem like a hazardous imposition. Even Danny, the birthday boy, eyed those trees warily as we all inspected the land from the top, bundled up as even more snow began to fall. 

“Buckle up, buttercup,” Josh said, pressing a hand to my lower back. I could barely feel it through the thick layer of my coat. “It’s not like we haven’t done this a hundred times before.”

“That’s a little hyperbolic,” I replied, still gazing down the hill. 

In honor of his birthday, we all came to the decision that Danny should ride with each one of us before deciding who was the best at steering the ship, so to speak. He hitched a ride with Jake first, who looked determined to make it the best sledding experience of Danny’s life. Josh and I readied ourselves in our own plastic sled while Sam took the far left, leaving Danny and Jake in the middle–the three of us held back to watch them go first, with Danny laughing loudly and joyfully as soon as Jake scooted forward, then shot right down at a high speed. 

Josh and Sam shared a quick but poignant look at one another, then they were both kicking forward and we began to fly down the hill at the same time, me clutching Josh’s middle taut while he laughed wildly as if we were back on that tea cup ride and not flying down a frigid hill. I laughed too though, the slight rush of adrenaline quickly shooting up my spine, making me alert yet newly frivolous, and I laughed even more at Sam’s very focused, very serious facial expressions. He was seemingly doing everything in his power to navigate the sled like a ship, not like something that only had a rope handle and gravity to help it along its way. 

At the base, Jake and Danny were already throwing snowballs at one another, red-faced and exhaling white clouds of breathless laughter. Sam immediately joined in and quickly opted to use Danny, the poor birthday boy, as a shield so he could try and pummel Jake. Never one to waiver in his loyalty to any of the Kiszkas, Danny settled for meeting them in the middle, throwing handfuls of snow at both of them while Josh gathered all three sleds in his hands.

“There will be more time for bruised faces later,” he declared, trudging back toward the upward slope. “Danny has yet to decide who’s the master–or mistress–of sledding.”

Danny and Josh went next; I rode down with Sam, who insisted that I take the lead so he could see what he was up against, although we both knew there would never be a contest. Sam was always going to be Danny’s number one whether it was in sledding, snowball fights, funneling beers, musical solos, inhaling dabs, whatever–they were two peas in a pod. I did not quite feel that way with Sam myself, who was all gangly, sharp limbs surrounding me in the literal plastic pod we were temporarily trapped in.

“God, your feet are like skis!” I remarked, grabbing the toe of his boot and jostling his foot around. “We should just slide down the hill on those with me on your back.”

“This is a more even weight distribution,” Sam replied, clapping me on the shoulders. “Now, come on–mush!”

“Alright, alright,” I grumbled, beginning to shove our way forward and then we were soaring, with Sam clinging to me and yipping in delight all the way down. We made it to the bottom before Josh and Danny but after Jake, who had to hop out of the way before I collided the sled right into his ankles.

Of course Danny declared Sam the best person to sled with, though there seemed to be no prize, unless we were all meant to count Danny throwing Sam over his shoulders and parading off into the pine trees as the prize. It was such a fun, easy birthday afternoon that I was sure none of us wanted to end–thankfully, we were all in the mood to keep things going beyond the long drive back to the more familiar plains of our hometown. We went back to the apartment to peel ourselves out of wet, clammy clothes and for boozy hot chocolates; we bundled in the spare, dry clothes Josh and I had to offer, nestled together under a couple throw blankets and sat on the balcony while the sun set in starkly warm hues contrasting against the blank white space beyond. The air was calm and still, not even all that cold–it helped that all of us were still recovering from so many excursions up that big hill. 

I sipped my hot chocolate spiked with a generous amount of peppermint schnapps and looked over at Danny, who appeared to be totally content in this very quiet, relaxed mode. Sam was cuddled up against him, head on Danny’s shoulder, his face unusually sleepy while he cradled his own hot chocolate in his hands, Danny’s placed on his thigh in return. Josh, Jake and I were on the bench, with Josh in the middle. I realized it was one of those rare times that happens only once in a blue moon–where we were all together but no one was speaking a word and no one was bothered by it. We were as calm as the gently twinkling snow down on the ground, as placid as the imperceptibly moving clouds in the pink sky, yet as close and as comforted by one another as all coexisting animals were. I was always so unsure of what the future held–it didn’t matter how many things we planned, from every damn detail of a wedding to a honeymoon to everything in between. It was all still so uncertain but, as Josh had taught me time and time again, that was part of the beauty of it. 

And one thing was certain, I concluded, pressing a kiss to Josh’s temple–all of us were a family and it would always be that way.

---

Tagging: @sparrowofrhiannon @starbuggie @lightsofthe-living-gvf @sanguinebats @gvfrry @clairesjointshurt @bizzielisteningtogreta @jjwasneverhere @gvfrry

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[reversecreek]

welcome to marina, WILLA DENEURVE ( woman, she/her ) ! they are a TWENTY-EIGHT year old who has lived on the island for TWO MONTHS. word on the street is they’re currently living in HYLAND PARK and works as an ACTRESS. everyone also says they look a lot like ASHLEY MOORE. what do you think?

PINTEREST

“Her voice was trained, supple as leather, precise as a knife-thrower’s blade. Singing or talking, it had the same graceful quality, and an accent I thought at first was English, but then realized was the old-fashioned American of a thirties movie, a person who could get away with saying “grand”. Too classic, they told her when she went out on auditions. It didn’t mean old. It meant too beautiful for the times.” — Janet Fitch, White Oleander.

HISTORY:

willa ws born to honestly like….. the perfect family not to honk my own tit bt……………. they were jst rly quite wholesome. her mum celeste was this larger than life person who could never b contained by the four walls of any room she was in. she hd the presence of a gold glitter chess piece on an otherwise mundane wooden board. her dad marlon used to always joke that he had absolutely NO idea how he landed her bc he was just this like. rly average guy by all accounts n purposes….. blended into the sea in high skl……. had a few close friends but was never rly Notable or made a proper impression anywhere…… he always retold it as him coasting thru life until he met her in college. kind of like he’d been half awake before

willa always very much took after celeste…… there’s this one quote i remember reading that goes vaguely like “my mom and i would sit and listen to leonard cohen and joni mitchell lyrics together. from a young age i remember her being like “i’m playing this song and when it’s done i want u to tell me what’s happening in it” n she would give me a fake glass of wine when i was 8 and i would listen and b like. i think there was an affair.” which so much summarises their dynamic…… she ws just so like. dramatic n fun n always encouraged that in willa too. her mum was like. everything she aspired to be…… got scouted by a modelling agency in college n shot one campaign before blowing it off simply bc she was bored. starred lead in a play. spent a few weeks travelling asia selling handmade candles shaped like koi fish or curled up foxes or elegantly stretched hands. dated a parisian movie star during a break she and her father took n was featured in tabloids on his arm at the premiere. sm fun n exotic stories willa literally cldn’t get enough. whenever she’d tell them to willa as a kid her dad wld roll his eyes like ohhhhh here she goes again but it’d all b playful n he’d smile bc he honestly cldn’t get enough either. the stuff dreams are made of luv (lizzie mcguire stans rise)

(car accident & death tw) so u know when ur walking down a flight of stairs n then out of nowhere u miss a step n u get that lurch in ur stomach like ur in free fall? yeah. i won’t go into it too much but one night they were driving back from getting frozen yogurt and then suddenly they weren’t. she doesn’t rly remember much about it except for completely ignoring the doctors trying to give her the news and just saying “dad chose pecan. who chooses pecan?” n repeating that over n over n over until it didn’t rly register in her ears as english any more.

willa was uprooted from marina at 11 to go n live w her aunt in NY. this was like. a huge adjustment honestly….. her aunt blanche hd always been a little unconventional bt extremely glamorous. she lived in an old defunct theatre she’d bought out n came from a lot of money. willa’s mum’s side of the family hd always been well off bt celeste opted to live a little more Ordinarily shall we say after settling whereas blanche ws jst balls to the walls dripping w eccentric excess…. wld say she was never naked bc she ws always wearing black opium by yves saint laurent…… probably the living embodiment of la vie boheme….. she’d been admitted a yr early to a rly prestigious parisian design school n is an AMAZING seamstress. a corset she stitched a broadway star into got commissioned fr an actress’ red carpet walk at an indie film festival. rly just lived such a life rich w lots of stories n lots of talent too…… had that star quality essence tht her mum had n that was smthn willa found quite comforting everything considered.

(grief tw) u would think maybe a situation like this (one involving so much sudden change) wld cause a kid of tht age to withdraw into her shell bt willa only came out of her shell MORE. she coped w her situation by spinning it into a celebrity origin story inside her head. the tear jerker tale someone tells during their x factor audition to get the judges rooting for them. mentally streamlining things. repackaging all that hurt as a surefire ticket to success bc it had to be useful for something right? there had to b a point to it right? willa decided the point was she’s a star. KFHSGKFHGFKHGKJSFHG. get it girl….. she ws literally just like ok well clearly i’m destined to be famous n i’m the main character of this story. this story called earth. it’s all about me.

rly heavily immersed herself in her high skl theatre scene……. loved experimenting w fashion n literally wore the most outlandish things like. she treated the hallways like her milan f/w debut every new school yr…… a lot of the things she wore were actual like. costumes frm her aunt’s collection…… she has a multi-story closet u have to climb ladders to reach things in like a very rustic library…. it rly wasn’t uncommon for willa to turn up one day corsetted like a pirate with billowing sleeves or sporting the baby blue gingham of a swedish milk maid. it’s like she literally jst…… became a role. always. every day. the world ws her stage. the cameras were always rolling. her aunt only encouraged this tbh n honestly? icon. we love to see it. willa partied a bunch n rly lived a lax lifestyle where responsibility was concerned…. her aunt ws her best friend…… made rly gd friends with performers in the drag club scene n loved the glitz of that….. lots of wild nights turned grossly bright mornings

snagged an agent fresh into her first yr of college (she gt accepted to a pretty competitive theatre program at [redacted] in NY bc i haven’t looked into what that wld be yet <3 i’m merely a helpless british lass <3) n booked a few commercials n things….. when i say willa wld enter audition rooms like she owned the place i’m rly not exaggerating…. once she turned up to a casting call for MEN n just walked right to the front of the line scraping a random chair along the way n then took a seat w her legs crossed popping a bubble in her gum as they all glared at her like wtf is literally going on who are u. she received several complaints n she was just like “ur all acting so jealous of me….”

i feel like she got a pretty big role in a theatre production in her last yr at school. haven’t decided what yet. maybe smthn rocky horror or even mimi in rent. this was meant to b some like huge moment for willa like yes girl finally making it ur on ur way this is what u wanted n she WAS happy abt it but once it was wrapped she jst had this strange like Huh feeling in her chest……. n a la celeste w all her exciting stories was just like well i’ve done that so what’s next?

SO basically i feel like she finally moved back to marina a few months ago n lives in the big empty house in hyland park tht used to belong to her parents. she inherited it n never sold it. it's kind of eerie n weird n like a giant frozen shrine. she hd a brief stint starring on a reality tv show beforehand where her dog gained a handful of fan accounts dedicated to him……. u maybe will see why in the first bullet point of her personality section………… FKGHKSHFGGKFSHKHG. honestly she ws received pretty well too (mostly bc she’s so fking dramatic n like a caricature of a person) bt it wasn’t anything to warrant actual Fame (despite what willa herself might think). she’s mostly jst like. chilling honestly. accepting scripts n flying out fr auditions still. she’ll nab the occasional part bt she’s looking for that One Thing that rly feels like her big moment….. otherwise i cn just imagine her treating marina like a little dollhouse compared to the roaring mansion of NYC n having fun playing around in it. strikes a pose w a hand on my hip…. and now to personality.

PERSONALITY:

got a very large n lithe greyhound n named him marlene dietrich bc she was a black n white hollywood starlet famously known for her affairs n “bedroom eyes”. willa was like ugh. icon status instantly. didn’t rly foresee the responsibilities tht came w owning a dog tht loves exercise n complains abt him being like “ugh he wants to run soooooooooo much 🙄 like where are u literally going”. having said tht loves him dearly n he can often be seen wearing little clothes. a baby’s bonnet. a quilted leather waistcoat. a custom dog boa. he’s very glamorous. willa calls him a gay icon despite no evidence to support this theory. she also says he can sniff out evil in ppl so she brings him sometimes when she’s first introduced to a friend’s new bf n if his nose quivers a certain way she’s like “marlene has spoken. it’s done”. her friends r like omg? what’s done? willa gets up n walks away without elaborating. marlene’s little paws clicking along the floor w attitude.

literally dressed as marie antoinette for her high skl prom even tho there was no theme pertaining to this. jst loves the spotlight. can fake cry and WILL to get out of a parking ticket or teach someone to watch their tone or even simply for the theatrics of it all. the Most dramatic………….. rly fits being an actress like when people find out what she does it’s very like oh that makes sense.

says she doesn’t get hangovers. she’s just like “i revoked that it doesn’t happen to me”. alludes tht this is bc she’s an all powerful deity that was Chosen to be Blessed bt really she’s jst great at bouncing back n acting fine even w a blistering headache. it’s about believing the performance so much that u even convince urself.

has an extremely elevated sense of self importance bc this is kind of the equivalent of several layers of bubble wrap to cushion her frm the world. strives to b extraordinary bc ordinary honestly feels like a death sentence n there’s nothing she’d want to b seen as less. despite this weight she puts on that she rly doesn’t tend to let ppl’s opinions affect fr the most part like she’s quite firmly set in this I’m Literally The Most Gorgeous And Beautiful Angel Star Creature To Walk This Narsty Little Earth view

probably an incredibly big fan of dramatic short lived love affairs. she wants the glamour of it all. the scandal. the randomly breaking up w someone in a public place n sliding on sunglasses after delivering the words over a freshly ordered coffee (tht she’ll leave without drinking bc that’s star power babey she waits fr no man or no hot beverage)…….. has no preference gets w any n all regardless of gender……… romanticises things so they hv a better spin or story in her head n doesn’t rly take things seriously like jst has fun in her fantasy world…. she’s like ugh chuck i know u wanted to marry me but i’m a beautiful bird in a cage n u literally need to undo the latch n set me free……. the guy’s like……. my name’s chase n we’ve only been on two dates….. willa’s like…… please don’t take this so hard i can tell ur besides urself but people r starting to stare……. gets up n leaves. no-one was staring. chase is confused n honestly probably semi concerned fr her welfare.

always has to b the hottest n most glamorous person in a grocery store…. probably goes to them when she doesn’t even need anything jst holding a basket nonchalantly over her forearm glancing over at a cashier in her wizard of oz corset seamed interpretation on a dorothy dress thinking he wants me soooo bad it’s not even funny….. seduces him over the check out counter jst for him to ask her to come back to his so she can lean back scandalised n cry “IS THAT THE KIND OF WOMAN U THINK I AM, PAUL?! YOU’RE A GHASTLY LITTLE MAN, YOU ARE….” with all the gusto of a telenovela. attracts the shocked glances of all surrounding elderly.

speaks fluent french. probably on her brief stint on tht reality show i mentioned earlier was like “ugh can you believe Deneurve of this guy?” n in her head was like this catchphrase is sensational it’ll catch on fast the twittersphere is abt to implode but it didn’t become a thing except for in a small isolated community. despite this she’s like “yeah it went viral….. go figure. just another day in the life.”

honestly like a lot of fun bt also a huge handful at the same time. keeps her real Serious emotions in a locked box bt is always overflowing w melodramatics n rly giving her all at the drop of a hat where Performing is concerned. probably Loves parties n sees them as another form of production in which she wants to b the lead. rly just. loves herself. except does she? 🤔 lifts my hand up like rihanna n winks. find out next time. lucky by britney plays as i slowly disintegrate in spiderman rp…..

#marina:intro

[dear-wormwoods]

Happy New Year!

I know I haven’t been posting much lately, but I do like to write something every year on New Year’s Eve so I can look back on things if I want to in the future.

So 2023 was a pretty awesome year for me, to be honest. I really didn’t accomplish any of my goals from my last New Year’s post, except for continuing my Duolingo streak, but you know what? It’s totally fine. I set myself back financially and made no progress on getting in shape, but I had a lot of fun!! And that’s really what this year, particularly this summer, was about.

Travel Highlights:

Went to Colorado in June/July, had an amazing spa day and fancy dinner on my birthday, did a bunch of really cool hikes and took a ton of photos, had more fancy dinners, saw 4th of July fireworks over the Denver skyline, went to museums including the Molly Brown house and the best prehistoric exhibit I’ve ever seen, saw moose and elk, and generally had the best time ever.

Visited my aunts in North Carolina for the first time, and had a great time. They convinced me to treat myself while we were at a real jewelry store so I got myself some diamond earrings. Because why the hell not? I’m an adult with a salary, and I don’t need to save or put toward bills every penny I make.

Went to Ocean City in Maryland for the first time as well, which was a ton of fun even though I’m not the most beachy person ever. Ate crabs, got wasted, rode rides, saw wild horses, and then afterward went to Hershey Park which was also a lot of fun and had great roller coasters!

Went to Colorado AGAIN spur of the moment in November because we finally got invited to go to Casa Bonita. So we did that, of course, went on an awesome winter hike in RMNP, got massages, and had a fancy dinner at a Chianti event in Denver.

I also went to a few shows this year:

Iron & Wine in July which is definitely a highlight of the year because he is my favorite musician and I’d never seen him before. Super intimate acoustic show so I didn’t get any pics or videos but I’ll remember it forever, especially that he played my favorite song!

Modest Mouse, Lord Huron, and a bunch of smaller bands at a two day festival in August. Such a fun time, and both headliners were SO good. Lord Huron is a newer find, but I’ve been listening to Modest Mouse for over a decade and never saw them live!

Death Cab for Cutie and The Postal Service in September, for the 20th Anniversary Transatlanticism and Give Up tour. This was my second time seeing Death Cab but this show was special because both bands played those two albums in full, and Transatlanticism is one of my favorite albums ever.

Other cool things:

Went to a fancy tea room in Boston.

Saw Titanic in theaters TWICE during the 25th anniversary rerelease.

Saw a queer comedy show.

Practiced drawing more, but not as much as I’d like.

Went to the gym slightly more consistently.

Cooked some great meals.

Started writing a fanfic I love, which I truly do intend to finish!

Went on a couple of writing weekend trips to Maine which did of course include lobster and a dessert bar.

Had many snuggles with my cats.

Made sweet desserts for my family’s Thanksgiving and Christmas get togethers.

Played a billion hours of The Sims, and took hundreds of screenshots for my save’s very extensive family tree.

Cut down on waitressing hours at the expense of my savings account so I can have weekends back and not burn out so easily.

Other than all that, I went to work and that was fine, tried dating a few times but nothing panned out, and just kind of hung out and did my thing most days.

Huge shout out to @terieri who not only is my travel buddy, but also willingly came to all those concerts, and is the only person who is as invested in my Sims lives as I am! This year would have been super lame without her.

2023 was all about having fun, exploring, doing new things, and eating great food. It gave me a lot of memories and while I know I won’t be able to afford having another year like this for some time, hopefully I can make 2024 pretty great too!

I hope you all have a wonderful night doing whatever you choose to do on New Year’s Eve, and that 2024 starts off amazingly for you all. For myself, I like to get takeout and play video games so that’s what I’m going to do.

❤️

#new years #life #don’t reblog

[ofcapers]

– i'll angel in the snow until i'm worthy .

( sophie thatcher / cis woman / she/her / caper ) did you just see LILITH “LILI” MADDOX walking through the halls? they’re a TWENTY TWO year-old THIRD YEAR PSYCHOLOGY student from SAG HARBOR, NY. rumour has it they’ve been a member of praeditus since they were in their SECOND YEAR. i’ve heard they have a tendency to be IRREVERENT and VOLATILE, but ADVENTUROUS and WITTY, too. well, anyway, you’ll know if you spot LILI again because they always seem to remind me of AN EMPTY NEST AND A BROKEN WING, RED WINE SPLATTERED ON PRISTINE SHEETS, SPARKS FROM A FIRE DANCING IN THE AIR & YESTERDAY’S MASCARA BECOMING TODAY’S EYELINER. just like the rest of us, they have something to hide.

𝑩𝑨𝑺𝑰𝑪 𝑰𝑵𝑭𝑶𝑹𝑴𝑨𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵 . 

full name:  lilith jade maddox . meaning: ghost / night monster . precious stone . nickname(s): lili , lils . age: twenty-two . date of birth: tba . zodiac: cancer sun , tba moon , tba rising . hometown: sag harbor , ny . gender: cis woman . pronouns: she / her . orientation: bisexual . relationship status: single . education: third year psychology major . occupation: ur local dealer . living arrangements: lives on campus so "her aunt can keep a better eye on her" .

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑨𝑬𝑺𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑻𝑰𝑪𝑺 . 

a red stain blooming upon white sheets, damsels can become the distress, icarus flying dangerously close to the sun, sparks from the fire dancing in the air, drowning your struggles in whiskey bubbles, the last pomegranate seeds, happy little pills, making shapes with sparklers in the dark, always a few steps ahead as though being chased by ghosts, sweet bourbon runs through your veins, all those who wander can never be lost, the shift of the temperature as a storm approaches, an eternal crossroads and you chose the wrong path .

faceclaim: sophie thatcher . hair: long , dark hair . slight curl to her hair, which only adds to the Messy, Grungey, Textured Look™️ that she swears she isn’t going for. it’s typically left loose, until she gets annoyed with it and throws it up in some half assed messy ponytail. two braids if you're being spoiled . eye colour: blue . height: 5’6 . style: her & her aunt often butt heads at the way lili presents herself. " it's a reflection on your family and on me! " as if that would make her care at all. they have reached a very interesting compromise. she leans into the dark acadameia style, but her skirts are short & her tights are ripped. she's a mess but she's sexy abt it and makeup: dark eye shadows, black liner smudged around her eyes. she doesn’t often wear lipstick ( does make exceptions but they're rare ) and would die before wearing lip gloss. the best you will get day-to-day is a tinted lip balm. think clinique black honey. signature scent: cherry, but not the artificially sweet cherry syrup/candy notes. more of a bitter cherry. specifically lost cherry bc tom ford bc she Does have money even if she doesn't always act v classy usual expression: resting bitch face ; a smirk rather than a genuine smile ; rolls her eyes without even trying to hide that she’s doing it .  

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀 . 

label: jerk with a heart of gold . lili kind of sucks. she's got her guard up, she pushes people away, she's selfish. lots of bad things on the surface. deep down, however, she's not a bad person. she just does a lot of bad things. the few that can slip past lili's defences have a loyal friend for life. the desire to find out what happened to professor dupont, even if it means tolerating buckthorn, despite claiming she doesn't care, etc tv tropes: anti-hero, dark-haired aloof girl, the bratty teenage daughter, the rebellious spirit, lady swears-a-lot, good bad girl, deadpan snarker, wildcard, hard drinking party girl, mood swinger . positive traits: brave , adventurous, decisive , witty , resourceful , assertive , spontaneous , protean , adroit , direct , observant . negative traits: abrasive , reckless , bad-mannered , bitter , disrespectful , freewheeling , aloof , fickle , irreverent , cynical , argumentative , moody , irresponsible , destructive . mbti: enfp . alignment: chaotic neutral .

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫 . 

christopher maddox had always been the black sheep of his family. every night was another reckless adventure, and each morning another hangover laced with regret. a direct contradiction to his hardworking, straight-laced sister – the dean. real “she’s everything, he’s just ken” vibes. but if ken was a raging dickhead

chris met rebecca on one of his benders. a one night stand turned into a friends with benefits situation. they were just as bad as each other, giving in to every impulse, and encouraging the other to take what was already a bad decision even further. 

the apple didn’t fall far from the tree with their daughter lili. she was an unplanned child, her parents not even bothering to hide their disappointment. with pregnancy came sobriety, for rebecca at least. chris would continue to stay out until late. coming home smelling like liquor, if he came home at all. 

despite being checked out of the family before it had even started, chris got down on one knee when rebecca was six months pregnant. a courthouse wedding just so they could say they were married. 

when lili was born, she was pretty much immediately shoved on her aunt for babysitting. a bender disguised as a honeymoon seemingly more important. 

unfortunately for everyone involved,, they Did come back to collect her eventually. 

growing up, lili quickly learned her parents were not as strict as the other peers’. she could get away with a lot more than the other kids. apathy or intoxication; whatever the reason, she didn’t question it. sneaking out for parties, sneaking people in – it was all too easy to get away with. 

the label of ‘wild child’ came naturally. 

lbr this is probably a cry for attention. she won’t admit it!! as she got older, she started to hang out with a “bad crowd”. her actions getting more and more reckless, skipping school, drinking & smoking more. this will get fleshed out soon soz 

she was sent to meraviglia (and her aunt) as punishment, hoping it would straighten her out. something, unfortunately, not happening. she plays the part well enough to keep the dean off her back, but it's amazing how much you can sneak under the nose of a woman with a million jobs.

her relationship with professor dupont is a tricky one. she finds it amusing to watch him go head to head with the dean, but that’s still her aunt. he knows her secret, but he didn’t tell. every time the professor pushed lili, it was a flip of a coin as to whether she’d take his advice or argue with him. 

she had never asked to be a part of praeditus. didn’t want to be there, and she knew they didn’t really want her there, either. they wanted the dean’s goddaughter but they didn’t want lili. 

navigating the group now that dupont is gone? it’s tricky to say the least. it was easy to pretend the apathy was all she felt when he was alive, but now he’s gone and she can’t cling to that aloofness. he’s not inserting himself into lili’s life anymore, but she can’t let it go. 

though her godmother seems content turning a blind eye, lili has made it her mission to find out what happened. even if that means dragging buckthorn along for the ride.

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#praeditus.intro #🧨 ― musings . ╱ says he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm ; says it was poison

[khaleesiofalicante]

Not exactly a quote but I think you would love it anyway: "A writer is just someone who forces what's living in their head to pay rent"

Do you think its ok to make me cry at 2 a.m with this??? 😭😭I told my family I had a headache and I wanted to go to sleep earlier, then I started reading this chapter and I didnt even think I would finish it bc I was actually sleepy...

And the last thing I knew was me crying at the end of this jdhdjdjdks

Dont worry, I didnt have classes today!! Yey!!

I kneel before one godness and that is Jia Penhallow 😌

"I’m here for you, Alec. Maybe not in all the ways you expect me. But I’m still here.” I mean it does feels great seeing him try..

And Alec is a fixer. He just needs to know what’s wrong so he can fix it. The parallel to this and Magnus saying he would hate if Alec thinks he needs to fix him... SCREAMING

The effortless love between them.💙💙💙

“Are you sure?” Magnus asks. “It worked on the senator’s son.” I mean... He is not wrong...

Jace is so in love kdhdkdjdodk

The florist be like: Something lgbt just happened to me...

I'm love my two in love dumbasses but the 'I’ll make it worth it. I promise' is just🥺🥺🥺

Because apparently, you can't just draw shapes and shit on their little faces. They want specific shit.  No shit Sherlock!!!

“You look like a butterfly.” She gasps at that. “Really?” “Really,” Alec grins. “You wanna fly?” NOT ME CRYING OVER THIS 😭😭 ITS SO ADORABLE BUT I ALSO FEEL SAD JDJDKDJK

“You are the opposite of manageable,” Shut up Alec, you love her!!!

Luca is so wise ngl. Also I love how, even tho it was really hard, Magnus did put his health first and knew that he wasn’t in the right headspace to get a baby. I will protect this man ok?!?

"The issue is not knowing where to draw the line. The issue is not understanding where they stop and where you begin.” THIS>>>

The reason of him wearing glasses😭😭

Clary 🤝 me.

Our love for wine :)

"We need to find a short lady! Like Aunt Clary." poor Clary putting up with all of their jokes jdhsjsj

“I like the name Brooke,” David smiles and then gasps dramatically. “What if she can’t pronounce the letter R and calls herself Book? We have a baby called Book!”

Max giggles at that. “You’re cute.”

David bops his nose. “You’re cuter.”

“You know,” Clary says. “If those two don’t get together when they are older, Jace might throw a fit.”

MY HEART CANT HANDLE THIS OK??? SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP😭

Clace rights only😎

I thought this was like when they were still kids but then the trip to South Africa was mentioned and I realized the were older and that the divorce is not so far away and I wanted to scream and-

"Do none of you know how genetics and reproduction work?” soryy Rafe, I skipped those classes... it wasn’t my fault!! they were boring!!

Mavid>>>>

“We tell them the truth,” Magnus replies. “And hope they understand. Otherwise, we have failed as parents.” EXACTLY THIS

I hate the damage control the have to do😭

They are not punishing them. They are mourning. Mourning someone who doesn’t exist. Mourning someone they never met. Am I crying? Yes. But I think we all did..

“Bapak is sorry." Holy shit this line was the one that hurted the most😭😭😭

All the videos he is watching are making me emo🥺🥺 the one with the water fight, THE ONE WITH MAX AND DAVID, THE TIKTOK CHALLENGE HOLY SHIT💙💙💙

We stan Elyaas. Just a friendly reminder

“Great,” Alec grins. “So, I thought I’d share some things with you that I find very sexy.”

“Magnus Bane!” someone yells.

“Magnus Lightwood-Bane,” Alec corrects with a wink. “And yes, my husband will always be on top of that list. But let’s talk about some other stuff.”

THIS MAN ISTG-

YES. WE NEED TO GIVE A FUCK!!!

Not him rewinding the video to Magnus Lightwood-Bane🥺🥺

Peter and Asmodeus are both pieces of shit!!!

It’s easier for him to love himself when he knows someone else is doing it too. I relate a little to much to this quote...

“Someone once told me the right man won’t care,” JEM AND TESSA, JEM AND TESSA, JEM-

The endless love they find within each other to give to their children. Why does this Timeline feels so nostalgic?? 🥺🥺

“There are parents who try to do better and there are parents who don’t. That’s it." Louder for everyone to hear!!!!

“Edom is my Alexander.” You really cant love more than this, huh??

“It wasn’t that bad,” she smiles. “I had a friend who came with me for moral support.”

“Ah,” Magnus says. “I hear he is dashing.”

“More like deranged,” she corrects.

Dont @ me but I love their dynamic ok?!?! Their friendship is kinda unique but it really is beautiful💙

Song rec: In The Stars by Benson Boone. Kinda tlnd Malec vibes but also lbaf malec vibes when Alec dies

Ilyy. Byeee💚

Lmao the song rec 😂😂😭😭😭😭😭 (literally)

Here is a tiktok for you. When Rafe finds out about mavid 🤭

#tlnd #I loved the quote it made me very 😎😎😎

[ljfoxie]

After a couple of hours catching up with Lance and worrying about Loretta, she and Esmerelda emerged from the tower but something was very different! “Wow, that’s Lori’s Aunt Elda???” Lance chuckled in surprise.

“Y-yeah, at least...I think it is!”

“I thought you said she was old?”

“Sh-she was!” I stammered, looking at her now, she was a completely different person!

“Everybody, this is my Aunt Elda...”

“...the real Esmerelda Croft!”

“Hello, it’s nice to meet you all properly...it’s...been a while since I could see faces, for so long I’ve only ever been able to make out shapes! What a sight for sore eyes you all are...Vlad you age like a fine wine!” She winked, and Vlad blushed! That was a story I had to know, but it would have to wait, there was this small detail of a hex that I needed fixed before I became the reincarnation of Grayson Chambers!

<Previous_Next>

#TheTartosaVampire #ts4 #sims 4 #the sims 4

[mountphoenixrp]

We have a new citizen in Mount Phoenix:

                 Ayssa Byeol Kang, who is known by no other name,                                   a 28 year old daughter of Apep.                        She is the owner of Jinxxed and an author.

FC NAME/GROUP: Jiu/Kim Minji from Dreamcatcher CHARACTER NAME: Ayssa 'Byeol' Kang AGE/DATE OF BIRTH: 1994.11.22 (28 y.o) PLACE OF BIRTH: Baton Rouge, Louisiana OCCUPATION: Owner of Jinxxed, Author under pen name 'Myra Duchannes' HEIGHT: 5'9 (175 cm) DEFINING FEATURES: pitch black hair that she often dyes depending on her mood. dark, dayless eyes and clouds of chaos tattooed on her left shoulder.

PERSONALITY: Despite the mysterious appearance of a cold beauty, Ayssa has a rather welcoming disposition. She proudly boasts her mysterious Southern Goth roots, but has all the manner and gait of someone pleased with life. With a mischievous streak, she enjoys teasing others whether to fluster them or earn a laugh. Ayssa is curious about people in general, and is unashamed in showing her interest. But whether friend or stranger, she will always offer her hand to someone in need. If in search of a daredevil or a challenger, Ayssa is an avid lover of all things macabre, taboo, and is unafraid to get her hands dirty. Protective, meticulous, and unabashedly opinionated, Ayssa is an all-rounder.

HISTORY: TW: Prejudice, Maltreatment

Growing up in the rural parts of the Deep South, and an orphan at that, Ayssa often felt out of place. The scrutinizing eyes of many made her feel alienated at times, but Madame Duchannes made all of the children at the manor feel like they were part of something bigger. Whenever she shares the stories of her childhood, most look in pity and sympathy, but Ayssa doesn’t see it that way. Madame Duchannes, a woman as strong as she was magickal, taught Ayssa much of what she knows. In turn, Ayssa helped out with her younger brothers and sisters where needed, fiercely protecting them against the townsfolk that looked down on the Duchannes manor with unabashed prejudice.

As she entered teenagehood, her abilities began to manifest. The flicker of lights in the eerie night as the cicadas chirped away stirred all types of gossip: witchcraft, devils, and hauntings. If anything, the mistreatment of the Duchannes Orphanage and the children worsened, prompting the Madame to relocate. It was then the woman told her of Mount Phoenix, and though Ayssa pleaded to stay, her words fell on deaf ears. She was mercifully allowed to help them move and settle in, but no sooner did Madame Duchannes send her on her way.

Rather than moving immediately, Ayssa lingered in Baton Rouge, in the then-abandoned Duchannes manor. Spooking, haunting, and stirring all sorts of mischief in the town that she blamed for driving her family away. At 23, she met a young couple passing through town. Inspired by their story and vagabond lifestyle, Ayssa left the claustrophobic and lonely clutches of her past. It would take 3 years of wandering and soul-searching before Ayssa finally found home in Mount Phoenix as a shop owner, an author, and a not-so-rich wine aunt.

PANTHEON: Egyptian CHILD OF: Apep POWERS: Ability to dim or entirely put out lights around them (lamps, candles, etc.). Gain supernatural strength and speed during the night. Can shape shift into a 150 cm rainbow python.

STRENGTHS:

taking care of others

not-so-secretly a very good singer

will drink anyone under the table

green thumb; makes a mean cup of tea!

WEAKNESSES:

macarons macarons macaron maca-

cats, not in a good way. she’s kind of afraid of them

being honest with herself about her own wants and desires

indigo, her god niece

#kpop rp #krp #dreamcatcher #kim minji #dreamcatcher jiu #mp; welcome

[dingochef]

Pairing: Jake "Hangman" Seresin x You (OFC)

Warnings: Swearing, Smut (MDNI 18+ Only), Stalking, P in V, oral (female and male receiving), Semi-public sex, light spanking, light bondage, blindfolds, shitty parents, nightmares, 

Summary: You're pretty sure you know the question and the answer, just not when it's going to get asked and how.

Masterlist

Series Masterlist 

Chapter 17

Word Count: 4.0k

?

For the next couple of days after Rooster and Lydia's wedding you're on alert, as though Jake could propose at any minute based on his comments at the wedding. He wasn't exactly subtle.

Jake is immensely creative and no doubt has a plan,and your imagination runs wild with possibilities. Not that you're nervous or would say no, you just want to feel prepared and ready. He of course picks up on your mental state and has a little fun with it.

First, you and Jake meet up for dinner at the tapas place where you had your first date after work one night. Which would be a very reasonable place to propose. You were almost sure he was going to do it when he walked back to the table and in between you taking a sip of wine and looking back at him he had gotten down on one knee and was….tying his shoe. When you coughed on your wine, Jake looked up at you with a raised eyebrow and gave you that signature smirk. 

Then the day after that you came home and were greeted by the homey smell of Italian food.

"Ooh, what's cooking?" you asked. Jake kissed you on the cheek and answers,

"Special family recipe."

You raised your eyebrow, certain that he was making Nonna’s special marriage sauce. With great flourish, he pulled the lid off the pot and said,

"Yes, Aunt Jilly's meatballs." 

He tried to look totally innocent and just laughed at what must have been the irritated look on your face.

The next evening as you're about to leave to go grab a drink, he called you into the bedroom,

"El, I've got a question for you." 

At this point you thought, 

"Finally".

When you walked in he held two polos up,

"Which shirt do you think goes better with these pants?" he asked, eyes sparkling with mischief.

He didn't even try to play it off as anything other than teasing.

"The blue one," you leaned over to whisper to him, "If you're trying to drive me crazy in a not good way, you're succeeding."

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he replied, literally batting his eyelashes at you

He relented for the next few days, thankfully before you smothered him in his sleep or asked him to marry you first.

When you get home from work, you notice something on the front door as you approach. There is a red ribbon hanging from the door with a paper airplane at the end. On the wing, there is Jake's neat handwriting simply stating, "Open Me."

You carefully unfold the airplane and read the text inside:

Where we had our first kiss. 

The memory of that first kiss after he walked you home from the Padres game and dinner flashes through your brain, a warm feeling forming in your chest. 

As you open the door there is a photo of Jake and you at a Padres game hanging inside. Looking at the house there is red ribbon everywhere. It looks like one of those laser security grids people have to weave through to steal a diamond. The ribbon zigs and zags to the coat hooks, and then under and over the end table, up to the mantle piece and then under all the cushions of the couch. You find the second paper airplane on the couch. When you unfold it, you read:

Where I made you come for the first time.

You blush thinking of that moment from your first night together and where your underwear ended up after that. Eager to see where all this leads, you think you know, you chase the ribbon as it continues on the floor and up the wall over picture frames and into the guest room. The ribbon is simply shaped into a heart on the floor, it exits the room and heads towards the bedroom. You have to duck and step over ribbons a couple of times to get through the bedroom door. A picture of you and Jake from the vintage air show from early in your relationship, a selfie in front of a B-17, is hanging from the door frame.

You chase the ribbon around the bedroom, sliding under the bed at one point. There is another airplane sitting on your bed. You unfold it:

Where we made love and said I love you for the first time.

On the bed next to the paper airplane is a photo from Texas of you kissing Jake on the cheek as he's laughing. The memory brings a smile to your face.

The ribbon snakes out of the bedroom and surprisingly into the bathroom. The next airplane makes you laugh out loud, the sound echoing off the hard walls of the bathroom, because of course this would be a core memory Jake keeps in his brain. The airplane reads:

Where you gave me a blowjob for the first time (in the porn shower.)

He has hand drawn a winking face under the message. You pick up the trail of the ribbon and it winds its way out of the bathroom and over to the end of the couch. The paper airplane is sitting on top of a pillow next to a picture of you and Jake with your arms wrapped around each other on the front porch of the house. Unfolded the paper reads:

Where you asked me to move in with you.

The ribbon continues on in a circuitous route around the living room going under the armchair. Picturing Jake snaking the ribbon all around our house makes you laugh. The ribbon trails into the kitchen and briefly makes a stop in the fridge where there is a bottle of champagne and a container of what you assume to be Nonna's Bolognese sauce. The ribbon goes through a few cabinets and then into a pot on the stove. You make sure the stove is off and then you pull the lid off.

This airplane reads:

Where I made Nonna's special Bolognese for you.

There is a picture of Jake, you, and Nonna from Thanksgiving all laughing as the picture is snapped sitting in front of a canister next to the stove. Jake stands behind you and Nonna, towering over with his arms wrapped around you two.

The ribbon loops a few times around objects in the kitchen and under the dining table and through the chairs till it is finally tied in a bow at the door handle to the patio.

One last plane is tucked into the door jamb. You've figured out where this is heading and your heart starts to beat faster as a flood of giddiness overwhelms you. You race to unfold the last paper airplane.

It reads:

Where I asked you to marry me and you said yes.

Your heart is fluttering as you open the door as fast as possible and step out to the patio.

Jake is kneeling on one knee on the patio holding up a small open black box. He uses his free hand to wave you over. When you are close enough he takes your hand.

You look down into his impossibly green eyes and see his trademark confidence on display. He is very sure of what's about to happen and so are you.

After what feels like minutes to your rapidly beating heart he finally speaks,

"Every day I'm with you is a treasure and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Elsa Samantha Matthews, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife and partner in life?"

You're of course crying by this point and it takes you a second to squeak out,

"Yes, of course."

Jake leaps to his feet and sweeps you up in his arms for a deep kiss. He pulls back and rests his forehead against yours,

"You said yes."

"I did. You were very sure that I'd say yes, some might call that cocky," you tease.

Jake laughs, 

"Sometimes you just know, that's confidence. I also think it's a question you don't ask unless you know the answer."

You just kiss him back in reply. Jake remembers he's holding a box he reaches down for your left hand and pulls it between you.

"Here let me put this on my fiancee," he says as he slides the ring up your finger. You hold your hand out so you can look closely at the ring. It's a simple platinum band with a group of diamonds in different sizes arranged asymmetrically, arranged around the largest stone. It's unique and perfect.

"I like the sound of that. Jake, this is beautiful. It reminds me of a constellation of stars."

"Yeah? That's what I thought when I saw it," Jake replies. You can tell he's pleased you like the ring.

"I recruited Lydia for some help, you don't wear a ton of jewelry so I needed a little guidance on picking a style."

You lean over to kiss him,

"That's sweet, what advice did she give you?"

He chuckles, 

"Don't buy her something over the top and gaudy, find something with a silver metal and unique," you nod your head in agreement, he continues, "I texted so many pictures to her picking out stuff, finally found this one at a goldsmith in La Jolla. When I sent it to Lydia I just got a 'Nailed It' back from her."

Jake keeps talking, 

"I thought a lot about different stones, diamonds can sometimes feel a little overdone. But the more I thought about it I thought a diamond would fit you really well."

"How so?" You're curious what he's going to say.

"I just kept thinking of a phrase I'd heard before. The brightest diamonds are formed under the most pressure. You've become this amazing person despite all things that were forced to deal with and overcome to live your life like you wanted to, the pressure, so to speak."

Another tear rolls down your cheek and you place your hands on each side of Jake's face, 

"You are an amazing person and I'm really touched you put so much thought into asking me to marry you. You are a wonderful, caring, and loving man, Jake Seresin,and I am over the moon that I get the privilege to be your wife."

He wraps his arms around your waist,

"My wife, El. That sounds so good," he barely gets it out before he is kissing you with his full passion. Jake pulls you closer so your hips are aligned and as close as possible. His hands start to slide under your shirt on the soft skin of your back.

He starts walking you backwards into the house towards the bedroom. You feel something at your back and start to laugh, 

"Jake, the ribbons," you get a muffled response from where he is likely sucking a hickey at the base of your neck. "They're still all over."

He remembers and laughs as he pulls away to squeeze through, helping you  slide through the matrix of ribbons.

You make it through the web of ribbon and are standing in the middle of the bedroom unable to stop kissing and separate long enough to get off your clothing. You are pulling at the bottom of his uniform shirt when you finally break apart enough to pull your clothes off.

Once you and him are finally stripped bare, he takes your hand and kisses it just above the ring. Jake lays down and pulls you down to him. His face is wide open with love and his panty dropper smile.

You lightly push him on his chest and lean over to kiss him. Jake's hands cradle your head.

As you part for air, Jake says, 

"We're getting married."

You can't help the smile that is plastered to your face,

"Yes, we are. Right now I want to be ravished by my fiance." 

You slide your hand down to his cock, already hard and wanting. Jake starts at the contact when you wrap your fingers around him.

"The metal on the ring, feels different," he manages to breathe out. He sits up on his elbows and looks down to where you are stroking him at a slow pace.

"Not going to lie, you holding my cock with my ring on your hand is really hot," Jake says before collapsing on the bed. You go to open your mouth and before you can say anything, he has wrapped his arms around you and rolled you so that he is on top. He gives you an intense kiss and then kisses his way down your body.

"I want to taste my fiancee and feel her come on my face. Sound good, fiancee?" he asks, smirk firmly in place when all you can do is dumbly nod. All the blood in your body having left your brain the instant he parted your folds with his finger. You feel his huff of a laugh right before he engulfs your clit with his mouth, his finger pushing inside you, a second one joining moments later. Your hands snap to his head threading through his hair. You look down relishing the sight of Jake pleasuring you and you notice the ring picking up stray rays of sunlight in the room.

Jake's pace is increasing in time with your moans, the tightness building inside you,

"So close, so good, Jake," you pant out.

He adds a third finger and curls his fingers up and hits a spot that triggers your climax. Your legs clamp around his head as the wave rushes over you, incoherent moans falling from your lips. When you come back to earth, Jake is kneeling by your waist, looking at you with a look of utter adoration.

"God, El, you're so beautiful," he says softly. His hand smoothing the planes of your stomach up to your face. You take his hand and kiss the palm and pull him up to you. 

"I need you inside me, fiance," is the best you can come up with with your post orgasm brain. Jake obliges and gently parts your legs and guides himself into you. His pace is gentle and rhythmic, he keeps his face close to yours, his breath ghosting across your cheek.

Your brain finally formulates something resembling a thought.

"Jake, I love you so much. I get to be your wife," you whisper as you move against each other. He kisses you deeply before leaning back enough to slide a hand to where you are joined and begins to rub your already sensitive clit. You clench around him after the first touch, pulling a deep moan from him.

It doesn't take long for you to shatter again, this time looking into Jake's eyes as he follows you with his release inside you. You stay joined as the aftershocks roll through.

He rolls off to the side of you and pulls you into his arms, kissing the top of your head as you settle your head on his chest.

When your breathing slows to normal, Jake takes your left hand into his threading your fingers together.

"You look really good wearing only that ring," he jokes.

"I think it might get a little cold," you kiss his chest,

"So, how do you want to tell people? You want to stay in our own little bubble for a while or do you want to shout it from the rooftops?"

Jake laughs, 

"I feel like shouting it to the whole world, but we can probably do better with a few video calls."

"Well, we could probably put some clothing on, make the phone calls a little less awkward,"  you tease. Your stomach growls, and Jake responds,

"We should also eat something, I've got some of Nonna's sauce in the fridge. Let's boil up some pasta and throw a salad together while we celebrate our engagement."

You slip out of bed and pull Jake with you. You get dressed, slightly nicer than what you usually put on for just hanging around the house knowing you're going to be on video. Very carefully you pull the ribbons down to be able to walk through the house, you're left with a big heap of ribbon that you leave in the office.

"How much ribbon did you use?" you ask, impressed by the pile.

"Five or six 150 yard rolls? I've got a few more in the closet. Not sure what to do with it all," he answers.

"Maybe we could use it in our wedding?" You notice how Jake's smile broadens when I say 'our wedding'.

Jake whips up dinner in record time as you get some champagne flutes out and uncork the champagne. You pour each of you a glass and you toast.

"To a lifetime of love, happiness, and great sex," Jake says without a hint of irony, making you almost spit out your drink laughing.

"I'm not sure that's the wedding toast to use, but you've got time to figure out something more appropriate."

"Speaking of that, what's your vision for the wedding? I'm curious." Jake asks as you eat.

You ponder for a minute, 

"Probably on the smaller side, ceremony outdoors, fun reception, nothing too stuffy, mostly. I haven't thought of a lot of details, just the overall feeling of it. You?"

"Similar, although probably more people, my mom's side of the family is at least 40 people if you include kids. Speaking of which, do you want it to be an adults only wedding or have kids attend?"

"Definitely kids, I'm not giving up my opportunity to see you dance with Ellie and Gigi. That would be so damn cute."

Jake looks relieved, 

"That's good, the best weddings I've been to have been the big Italian ones with all generations attending."

You've finished eating; Jake takes the plates and loads them into the dishwasher as you put away the leftovers.

"So, who do we want to call first?” you ask Jake.

Without a second of hesitation, Jake says, 

"Nonna, I promised her she'd be the first to know when we got engaged and you do not break a promise to an Italian," his voice sounds particularly serious, "Especially an Italian grandmother, I'm pretty sure she's still angry at my great aunt Susan for taking her ice cream when she was a kid."

You laugh at the idea of Nonna being angry at Jake for anything. Jake takes a photo of your hand and texts it to Nonna, with the message 

"Video call when you can."

"Your grandmother texts?" you ask.

Jake just laughs, 

"She has a Twitter account, that's how up to date she is."

Seconds later Nonna's name pops up on the screen, Jake accepts the call and you are greeted by Nonna's smiling face.

"Hello Jakey and Elsa, I take it you have news to tell me?"

Jake and you respond over each other as you hold up your hand, 

"We're engaged!"

Nonna beams with happiness,

"Congratulations, I'm so happy for you two, so in love, it's wonderful."

She points at the phone presumably at Jake, 

"I told you the sauce would work, Jake, another happy marriage to add to the list."

There's a muffled voice off camera, "Ma, who are you talking to?"

You recognize Aunt Nancy as she dips her head into the frame. You're still holding your hand up and she laser sights on the ring.

"That mean what I think it means?" she asks.

Jake responds, 

"Yes, Elsa has made me the happiest man on earth and said yes to being my wife."

"Oh, that's so sweet kiddo, I knew it wouldn't be long the way you two were at Thanksgiving," Nancy replies, the joy apparent on her face.

Jake interjects before anyone can say anything else, 

"We'll let you go, we're going to call Mom and Dad. Don't spoil the surprise, I know you two."

Nancy and Nonna look a little sheepish and you laugh.

"Let's call your parents before we get scooped by your Aunt and Nonna," Jake nods his head in agreement. Jake dispenses with the text and goes straight to the video call.

Sharon picks up and you see she's at home in the kitchen,

She is her usually chipper self, 

"Hey Jake, hi Elsa, what's up?"

"Anyone else there with you?" Jake asks.

"Oh yeah, the whole gang's here," she swivels the phone around and we can see Mike, Alicia, the girls, and Tom sitting at the kitchen table. She turns the camera back,

"Good, less phone calls tonight. You can tell Ellie and Gigi that they will soon have an Aunt Elsa," he's smirking knowing it will take them a little bit to figure it out.

Ellie's voice shouts over everyone else, 

"They're getting married, he did put a ring on it!”

You hold your hand up, 

"Yup, we're engaged!"

There is a roar of congratulations and "oh my gods" and then the phone is quickly whisked away from Sharon and you see Ellie's face briefly before it lands on Mike and Alicia smooshed together.

"Congrats!" Alicia offers, Mike just says, in older brother fashion, "Finally."

Jake sticks his tongue out at his brother.

"We've got a few more people to call, so we'll let you go. Mom, I'll call you tomorrow," Jake wraps up the call.

"Let me text Lanie," you don't want to disrupt her if she's in the middle of a tattoo. You text a picture of your hand and the ring.

You don't have to wait long, a video call come through and you can see Lanie smiling,

"Finally! So happy for you and Jake, aww, I get a bro in law now, awesome. Just what I've always wanted."

"Aww, I get a pesky little sister now, just like I've always wanted. I'd give you a high five right now, but that's a little hard through the phone," Jake jokes.

Lanie's head is pushed to the side and joined by one with blue eyes and blond hair.

"Hi, I'm Sophia. Congrats, ooh I like your ring," she says as she jumps into the conversation. Lanie raises an eyebrow and taps her temple like she's storing some information for later.

"Thanks, nice to meet you, at least through video," you let her know.

"I've heard so much about you guys, looks like we'll be heading your way for a wedding," Sophia has sat down next to Lanie and thrown her arm around her.

Lanie jumps into the conversation, "Sorry to let you go so early, but we have a dinner reservation to get to. I'll call you tomorrow, Elsa. Congrats on making my sister an honest woman, Jake. Bye!"

Jake and you are laughing as Lanie hangs up.

"El, not to be a downer on this joyous occasion, but do you want to tell your parents?" Jake asks tentatively, his hands interlacing with yours.

You think for a moment, 

"I should, it might be a wake-up call for my mom, and at least my dad should know. I just don't want to talk to her right now."

You pause and think of the best way to contact them, 

"I'm going to go the easy way out of this and just text them. That way I can control the communication."

"That sounds good, your terms." Jake has moved to rubbing a soothing circle on your back. You lean over to kiss him before you write the text.

Group Chat: Rebts

You: Jake and I are engaged. More details to follow.

You hit send and let the tension zip away with the electrons sending the text to Michigan.

"That's done, what next?" you ask Jake, " I figure we'll tell Rooster and Lydia tomorrow when we meet them for dinner."

"Lydia is going to freak out, she's been texting me daily to man up and do it finally," he lets out a long sigh,

"As for the rest of the evening, I've got a few ideas of activities I would like to explore with my fiancee.”Jake is wearing a devilish grin that brings a smile to your face.

Elsa's Ring

Chapter 19

@kmc1989

@starswholistenanddreamsanswered

@mamachasesmayhem  

@callmemana  

@dempy

@hangmanscoming  

@lanie-k 

@callsign-viper  

@senjoritanana  

@djs8891

@atarmychick007

@memoriesat30

@mygyn

@midnightmagpiemama

#top gun maverick #hangman #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin fanfiction #top gun fanfiction #hangman x you #jake hangman seresin x reader #jake hangman seresin x you #top gun smut #jake seresin x you

[ofmona]

JETT && MONA: lbr their apartment prob isn't the tidiest bc jett is a huge slob n barely home n jst lazy in general. but they do try to pick up after themself and milo bc they want to make it livable enough lol they've also been trying to cut on the drinking n shit bc they don't wanna be seen as a bad influence on nico. wouldn't dream of it actually!!!

this is SOOO cute and i love it... mona's deffo on a similar wavelength, very physically active but also kinda lazy n not super neat, the kind to just come in, kick off her shoes and flop onto the sofa to watch netflix. but yeah i can imagine they don't mind clutter but actual dirt and mess?? they try to avoid. mona's room is a bit kind of 70s bohemian vibe meets alternative girl in a 90s movie, lots of fun wall murals and posters everywhere, big rugs across the floor, trinkets and lava lamps and plants everywhere. i can see their apartment being like, very cluttered but in an endearing way. just lots of plants, rugs, throws, cushions, records and books everywhere, nothing really matches, the dining table chairs are all different shapes and just whatever they thrifted and the wallpapers peeling in places. everything's pretty old but they're both quite handy and will often find a way to patch things up, fix a broken table leg, get the boiler restarted. big comfy sofas covered in crochet blankets and scatter cushions that have enough space for friends to sleep on, and a nice old coffee table with rings on it from where they've left hot mugs without coasters. i got inspired so i made a lil pinterest section of some inspo images for what it might look like (its the section greystone) but obvs feel free to disagree !! if u see it as more minimalistic that's totally cool. mona's trying to be tee-total right now, because she's been to rehab a couple of times and knows she's not the best at impulse control so one toke of a joint just turns into bombing lines and one glass of wine turns into shots at a strip club, so she's trying really hard to take it easy, n would def appreciate jett also cutting down / not having as much alcohol around (or it being kept in jett's room). i think nico probably sees jett as the cool aunt and loves the weekends when ian is a way and they get to sleepover at mona and jett's and watch movies and play videogames and walk milo... but ya, love that for them..... cuties.

#mona & jett. #headcanons.

[wtd28]

a thought occurred to me the other day. i would like to recount it to maintain the memory.

when my grandmother passed at the stunning age of 95, it both did and did not catch me by surprise. my dad, her son and youngest, and my mom, being the POAs and the only ones to give a shit outside of her church group and one of my aunts - my dad's sister - for several years prior, saw it coming. at 5:14am on a thursday my dad called me, and being that i am an insomniac, i answered. he said, "i guess you know why i'm calling."

"yeah. what's the next step?"

"we will let you know later today."

i went to work and did my thing. i didn't feel much outside of a vague sense of sorrow that she passed, but she had been in bad shape anyway so it was to be expected. all my coworkers were very kind and offered sympathy, which i felt i did not deserve because i felt no grief, just a sense of duty. they all asked if i needed to leave early, to which i declined and said there was no need because the overlap of my days off worked out just fine. later that day, i bought a handle of gin for when i was in the hotel room and drove the four hours there. memama, which is how we called her, desired a funeral where we all wore a champagne pink, rosé wine, blush colored piece at the event because it was her favorite color. the last time i saw her at the old folks' home she was still wearing pink. i own exactly one thing in pink so i wore it and my parents definitely appreciated it. we ordered pizza the night before.

day of. good aunt and uncle and my family hung out in memama's house. it was built by hand by my granddad in the early 60s. it still has that style to this day. an electric piano with nicotine yellow stained keys and a dusty 8-track stereo sat adjacent to a low television with carpeting on the speakers. as a kid, i would watch tv on it and watch the static lift the hair on my arms whenever i would touch the screen. if it worked and didn't weigh a metric ton i would have asked to keep it. instead, i got her collection of 8-tracks and cassettes.

the funeral was held in the same church where my parents got married over 30 years ago. from her house, it is down a steep hill, up another steep hill, toward the end of the address where a piss yellow painted brick mechanic / oil shop sits on the right and a log and tarp store of secondhand items lies to the left. go straight on past shoebox stucco houses older than me and no larger than an apartment living room bracket the road on both sides until you reach the church. it's typical baptist fare - brick build, rectangular with a small outcropping and a basketball court that my dad went and played on to mitigate his horrible cloying grief after his own dad died not a month before he and my mom got married, and that's where my memama had her final service in this life.

it is cosmically funny that the only people to sob and sniffle were the ones who barely gave a shit while she was alive, if not made her life harder. she was very kind and naive, and people around her took advantage of that like razor-teethed river fish against the pond cleaner.

it was closed casket, thank goodness. the spray of flowers were majority sent by my dad's work associates. there were at least twelve, and ten, maybe eleven, were sent by them, all in various shades of pink, purple, and yellow, with fresh and lively green stems and leaves. they stood in stark contrast to the almost burnt colored oak of all the bland furnishings and pews.

i have a shit extended family, but i will give one of my stupid cousins credit. one of my aunts, for some ungodly reason, lifted the casket open to peer at her mother in death, probably for sympathy points. she is... a character. well, she did that and turned to my cousin, her daughter, and said, "she looks so peaceful now," and my cousin guffawed and went, "mom, she looks like a corpse." which was true. i think her final weight at the end was in the eighty pound range. what fucking else is a wasted away elderly dead woman supposed to look like?

my dad and i did not cry, my sister and mother got sniffles and wept. people who did not matter or have any say about anything or have any attachment to us were sobbing like they had any leverage for anything. fuck em. holed up in the rusting sky blue trailer on the hill where i remember playing with a raccoon named rusty when i was a kid. they mean jack shit to me.

pre-service, i took a bible and read translation notes. the cousin who made a comment on my grandma's corpse nudged me and said it looked like i was studying. in a way, i was. i was studiously avoiding eye contact by skimming the segments in the old testament. jeremiah. matthew. segments of kindness toward your fellow man, followed up in quick succession by how your fellow man will be put upon the holy block and judged. i hate all religion, but i am simultaneously soothed by it because i know even back when people walked barefoot in the deserts and mountains, kindness still existed.

noon: service starts. my mom scolds me with her teeth showing to put the bible away, and that i can't draw during service. i wasn't planning on drawing, but because i had a pen in hand, that is the assumption. whatever, what fucking ever.

for two hours the service proceeds. the pastor has to be younger than i am. he recounts visiting my grandma during her final week, where she says for him to read a bible verse about kindness towards one another, about care and love, and being surrounded by people. my dad helped facilitate this. he knows the pastor well. people are crying around me. i stare at my left foot, crossed over the ankle with the right, clad in old tights, one flat shoe dangling. i don't cry.

the piano player fucking sucks, or maybe the piano itself sucks, because i hate the music. electric organ bullshit. i don't cry for the entire service. people send me condolences and ask for hugs. i don't know you fucking people, but i hug them and thank them anyway. i'm sweating in this knit pink sweater, black pencil skirt and wool tights. the spray of flowers atop my grandmother's glittering blush pink casket, like it'll explode to life in a shower of sparkles, sits between us all. i hate everyone here, even though i don't know the half of them.

the meeting after is so much more fucking bearable. everyone peeled out as best as they could. it was weird hugging my sobbing extended family members while i basically gave a "yeah yeah" and tried not to shoo them off. do not touch me. the saving grace of it all was hanging out alongside my dad and his friend since elementary school. it is entirely possible to laugh after a funeral. watching my dad and his friend try desperately not to curse inside a church sanctuary as they recounted boyhood stories made me have to choke back laughter behind my plastic cup of water. i really am his kid. nobody else was smiling. but i understand him and his friend. many things are beyond our control. so we must appreciate the experiences we have been given.

we shake hands with the pastor. the service was lovely, it really was, so i thank him with a double-clasped handshake. we pile into the truck, me being the shortest having to jump up and use the side rails.

my sister and i barter with my parents to go to a bar to cap it off. we eat pizza and mozzarella sticks. my dad and i enjoy the ambience of ozzy and metallica. my sister and i sleep in silence and wake up at 6am to go back home. we stop at a bp station for gas and coffee and then by the local liquor store.

she goes home. i go home. life has continued. my dad, upon going down the hill from the cove after the funeral, he commented, "i'm glad i'll never be obligated to go back to this fucking place again."

#p

[pastpastries]

Let’s Talk Mint

‘Tis the season! The season, yes, to start planning next year’s Halloween costume, but also the Holiday season. So many wonderful, sugar-filled treats are absolutely everywhere! The flavor of some of these seasonal delights revolve around a humble little herb called peppermint. If you are friends with someone (or are someone yourself) that dislikes mint, I’m sure more than a few moments have been spent wondering why it’s so popular in winter. It feels like it’s in everything. There are a few commonly accepted reasons behind this.

Peppermint has been used in culinary and medicinal settings since ancient times. Sources I’ve looked at say since 1,500 B.C.E. Dried mint leaves have been found in a 3,000-year-old tomb in Egypt. This leads us to believe the leaves and the oil they contained were very valuable, since they were being taken with them into the afterlife with their other forms of wealth. In Ancient Greece, mint was thought to cure headaches and hiccups. In Rome, it was added to wine and used to make sauces for feasts, something they brought to Britain and is still made in some forms today and known as part of their cuisine. Really, it’s common in a majority of the regions formerly occupied by the Roman Empire and each have their own small tweaks that make it theirs!

The recipe I’m going to focus on and try is simply flavoring wine with mint and honey. I will make it and link the recipe and talk about it in a later post so this isn’t a mile long and you don’t have to scroll for ages for it if you want to try!

So that was a basic look at older uses in the culinary world, what about a more modern one? Everyone knows what a peppermint candy cane is. We eat them alone, crushed up with chocolate, and as a garnish in delicious hot chocolate drinks. The first candy canes didn’t use the mint flavoring. According to some, they were sugar sticks commissioned in Cologne in the late 17th century to keep children quiet in church. The cane shape was likely a little fun decision to tie them in with the nativity and reference shepherd’s crooks. This origin doesn’t have much evidence, though. There isn’t a definitive answer about the origins of the hooked shape.

It wasn’t until sometime in the 1900's that peppermint flavoring was added to the canes, and now they are a holiday staple. Aside from the sticks, though, why is mint so popular in the winter? Mint is seen as a medicinal herb. People like to have mint-based food or drink when they’re ill. In the winter, it’s a lot more common that people come down with a cold or the flu, or just aren’t feeling all that great. Getting cozy with a steaming cup of peppermint tea when you are feeling stuffy doesn’t sound like a bad time.

The aromatics of mint aren’t bad, either. It covers up less desirable smells and has been beloved because of it for centuries. This is why it’s used in toothpaste or mouthwash, and why mints are handed out after meals at some restaurants. For a season where there is a lot of feasting, including mint in a dessert, cocktail, or sauce will help cover up nasty breath from the rest of the delicious food while you’re around all of your friends and family. Who wants to be talking to their aunt while their breath stinks like garlic? Mint dishes are a sneaky way to avoid that.

All in All, mint has been and always will be a welcome flavor this time of year in many households, including mine.

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#holiday food #mint #healing herbs #history