#the quote remind me of found family

[hephaestuscrew]

Doug Eiffel is just a guy who makes people say "idiot" /affectionate

#W359 #Wolf 359 #Doug Eiffel #Episode names in alt text #There are differing levels of affection in these quotes #but that undertone is there #I particularly love 'our idiot' and 'our moron' #because it seems like such a familial phrasing #maybe cos it reminds me of when people say 'our [name]' to refer to family members #which I know is a dialect thing that's not relevant here #but still... #He's not just any idiot #He's *their* idiot #Affectionate insults kinda feel like a family thing anyhow #He's not really stupid #but he does do plenty of things that merit him being addressed like this #the empty man posteth #Hephaestus found family

[strozzaprete]

not to be morbid on main but my life is so strange every day i'm fighting with my inner suicidal child trying to convince her to stay alive out of spite for our enemies

#this entire year ​i've been forced to relive past trauma -> which i'd been able to finally process but it doesn't involve just me #so basically i processed it but my family hasn't and they keep putting the blame on me for everything and guilting me for it #even though i was a literal child. in short the fact that i ''acted out'' by running away from abusive situations was and still is worse #than the actual abusive situations i was put in. as a child. #so like... i can forgive and understand and empathize with my past self at last (instead of feeling suicidal like i did for years) #but if nobody else in my close family circle does then i have to essentially stay strong and remind myself that they're wrong #point is that when i was 11-12 i would react to the emotional and physical abuse by basically putting myself in dangerous situations #and attempting suicide a couple of times lmao. staring at the train tracks every other day #because the fact that they beat me was NORMAL for me (my mom told me that i was 2 the first time my dad hit me) #and they were acting like i was (i quote) ''bipolar'' and mentally ill and acting out out of nowhere and i couldn't fully understand why #i was doing certain things at the time. so i put the entirety of the ''blame'' on myself. and later on my mom would make me feel guilty #about it for a decade to win arguments -> which almost every time start with her gaslighting me until i start crying and yelling so then she #can call me crazy. and she can make ME feel crazy so i won't take her accountable. so she avoids taking responsibility for her actions (past #and present). i finally realized this when i told her that one of the most traumatic events of my life was when she found some smoking #filters in my drawer (she used to go through my stuff all the time) that i was LITERALLY KEEPING FOR A FRIEND and she dragged me out on the #balcony by my hair and beat me. she would beat me in public places all the time to humiliate me. even my school friends remember this #and she said 1) ''it didn't happen'' and 2) ''i don't remember'' #so that's that. either i'm crazy and i fabricated the memory out of nowhere... or she's not taking responsibility for her actions. #and like... I KNOW it happened. but i'm very sensitive to gaslighting (as she does this all the time about other things as well) #and sometimes i literally have to hug myself and rock back and forth and essentially try to convince myself i'm not crazy #that's the situation i'm in rn :) cool #thank god the therapist moved my appointment to tomorrow because i'm about to implode or perhaps ask for money in advance to purchase drugs

[kestrel2001]

Characters A & D

A: Angry Nobody talk to me, I’m ready to crash the dreams of anyone that tries me

D: That’s why your mother doesn’t love you.

A: Audible Gasp OK! You wanna talk about parents?

C & B: GUYS NO!

#writing prompt #one shot prompts #ocs #incorrect quotes #dialogue prompt #fyp #quotes #story prompt #original character #dumb energy #friendship #original prompt #abc characters #writting #characters #quote prompt #found family #creative writing #yeah this reminded me of white chicks 😭

[adhdemizel]

y

#'with the slightest little effort of my ghostlike charm' like that part gosh #my man innit didnt even hesitate 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽 ''no no leave ranboo alone it was just me'' #''12 bamboo? man you live in a bamboo hill!'' #i started crying around ''i am going to revolutionize storytelling on the internet'' #im the villain bc i think revenge is okay sometimes and also have a ''kill your abusers'' mentality and people think thats evil <3 #child hears about ''found family'' and acts upon it #''wow i like how she does the lowercase a! im going to do that now!'' #my mom paused to watch this episode with me and this part she was like ''what the fuck's wrong with you'' at the screen hbskfjdk #''wow i really like this coloring style i wonder who'' *it is my friend* #cquackity: ''what smells like body butter and desperation'' #to quote ghostbur in derivakat's song ''why'': #this feels like a good old game of ''got you last'' #that reminds me actually of this friend i had and she would never allow girls to her house because ''girls are nuts'' #''and eh? i'm not sure you feel too bad about it.'' #and we'd be like ''absolutely king thanks have some money!'' #''are you a totem? bc our friendship is undying!'' #''and then the humans....would eat them'' #me: ''juggalo livin'' my ma: ''shut ur face'' me: ''okay'' #my sisters bf at the time was like ''jj where is your brother'' #*remembers when c!ranboo said his middle name was ''my''* #*variously pitched ''mmmmmm'' sounds* #''me forever in your debt.....until about twenty minutes ago'' #*remembers when phil called him ''manifold'' and smajor was all??? no?? it's either jack or jack manifold #''more fun'' just admit that you love angst and pain

[cuntryclubs]

theres this store that’s selling a bunch of shirts from ‘outlet stores’ but i swear it’s just from some printer place that needed to get rid of stock because some ofthese shirt s 😭😭

#i bought one that says jesus won on it bc funny and it’s from some christian sports club #my sister found a wonwoo shirt and there was some other kpop ones #there’s some with just random quotes on them a few couples shirts and some family reunion/memorial shirts 😭😭😭😭 #like why on earth are you selling memorial shirts from people on the other side of the world in a store 😭 #kinda reminds me of the stuff paul’s warehouse used to sell but worse

[the-siren-recluse-song]

#Desiderata #Max Ehrmann #my favorite poem #One each household of my family has hanging up #i quote it all the time #positivity #mental health #good vibes #this is so important to me to learn #be gentle with yourself #there are so many important lessons and reminders here #also I found a video of Tom Hiddleston reading out the whole poem #and it is so amazingly peaceful

[quin-ns]

Neighborhood Dilf (Joel Miller x Reader)

Word count: 2.7K

Summary: joel finds out he has a nickname and he asks you what it means

Tags: pre-outbreak this is a happy fic guys!! I didn’t specify a year but let’s put it at 2000 for funsies so sarah is like 11 and joel is like 30ish. also fluff, humor, flirting, age gap, goofy plot (I don’t know what this is honestly), joel being the definition of a dilf and not knowing it, crushes, overall cuteness. also suburbia

A/N: I saw a tiktok where someone said they just knew joel was the neighborhood dilf and they were so real for that I had to write it. and no I don’t care that the word was popularized online we’re using it here. I’m here to provide a cute fluffy fanfic not a historically accurate one lol. also sorry if your name is bee, I tried to come up with a name for the friend that was a nickname so if it was someone’s actual name they could just imagine their full name (I overthink)

cross-posted to ao3 • tlou masterlist • main masterlist

The loud music coming from outside woke you up from your afternoon nap. After spending a semester at college struggling to find even an hour of sleep, you were taking as many of those as possible. You were a little grouchy at first as you threw your covers off and stormed to your window, but quickly calmed down when you realized it was the annual block party your neighborhood hosted during the summer.

You’d gotten an in-person invite from Bee, another girl home from college who you’d been friends with in high school before going your separate ways. You still kept in touch since she was nice enough, which is how you found out her family was hosting this year. She’d confided in you personally that she would quote “go crazy if it was all kids and old people.”

As you looked out into their front yard, which was diagonal to yours, you saw that’s pretty much all it was. Since you were such a good friend, you decided that you’d go. 

You were getting dressed (at a leisurely pace) when your phone started to ring. You picked it up from your desk after you pulled your pink sundress on and flipped it open. The caller ID read Bee’s name and you answered, ready to tell her you were on your way.

“He’s here,” she said, sounding mistified, before you could even open your mouth. 

“Who?” you wondered, furrowing your brows a little to yourself as you went to the window.

“The neighborhood dilf,” Bee replied under her breath. 

The nickname made you laugh. It reminded you of high school. It had started as a joke, something you had started calling the new guy who’d moved into the neighborhood with his daughter a few years back. Later you found out his name was Joel Miller, but the nickname spread like wildfire to all the other girls in the neighborhood and it just stuck. 

Everyone knew about it; the girls of course, their confused parents, jealous boys who thought Joel was stealing their attention—the only person who wasn't aware of the moniker (as far as you knew) was Joel. Well, you hoped his daughter didn’t know either. Thankfully, after time, everyone forgot that you had started it. It was a bit embarrassing.

You walked away from the window to your closet and slid on your flip flops—it was summer in Texas, after all.

“You need to get over here, Y/N—what?” the last word sounded distant from the phone. “Yeah, she’s supposed to be on her way,” Bee replied, but to someone else.

“Um, hello?” you asked, waiting.

Bee was quiet for a few seconds, then whisper shouted into the phone, “you’ll never guess what just happened!”

“Let me guess, Joel just walked up and professed his love for you,” you teased, laughing at your own joke. “What, were my parents asking for me or something?” you guessed for real that time, recalling the small bit you had heard her say.

“Unfortunately no, and also no,” she sounded a little too disappointed about the first part, which made you chuckle again. “He did just ask me about you though.”

“Who?”

“The dilf.”

“Just use his name,” you told her with a roll of your eyes, heading out of your room to the stairs. “Wait.” You stopped for a second. “Joel asked about me?” 

“Yeah. I changed my mind, you’re not invited.”  If it wasn’t for her obvious sarcasm you might’ve thought she was serious. “He heard me say your name and asked if you’d be here soon. I—hey!” she yelled, causing you to pull the phone from your ear for a second. You continued your descent down the stairs as she yelled something about ‘kids’ and ‘stay out of there’. “I gotta go,” she said suddenly, then hung up.

You just shook your head with a small, amused smile and left your phone on the counter. Stupid dress and no pockets. 

You headed out the front door and walked across the street towards the party. 

It was in full swing. Music, games, food table—it looked like something out of a magazine. The Grants had a huge front yard—it was one of the nicer houses in the neighborhood—and it seemed like everyone was there. There were kids running around, adults all mingling—some sitting at the fold out tables, others walking around, others chasing their kids—there was also a group of dads surrounding the grill. You glanced that way and didn’t see Joel. You wondered where he was and if you should find him, but Bee found you first.

“The kids aren’t supposed to go inside alone and two of those little jerks went into my room,” Bee complained right away, straightening out her white blouse over her jean shorts. Her pinned back brown hair was a little messy, though. You wondered what happened, which she quickly answered. “I saw them jumping on my bed through the window.”

“Sounds like fun,” you commented sarcastically. Bee looped her arm through yours. 

“My dad set up ring toss and it’s all little kids, I don’t wanna be the only adult playing. Come on.” She dragged you along in that direction and you willingly went with.

You saw a few kids from the neighborhood playing, mostly the preteens who were too old for hopscotch but whose parents had told them they weren't old enough for the mini golf (one of the boys had overshared that little comment). 

“Y/N!” a girl's voice called. You looked that way and saw Sarah Miller walking towards you. A few days out of the week when her dad was working late, you’d go over to their house and keep an eye on her (before you left for college). It was the easiest babysitting gig you ever had; she was polite, always did her school work, and hardly caused any problems. Her dad had raised her very well. 

She looked older than you remembered her being, but you had been gone for both fall and spring semesters—well, you had been home for winter break briefly, but not enough to see anyone other than your parents.

“Sarah, hi!” you greeted, accepting the hug she offered when she got close. “How are you?”

“Good!” she said with a smile. “Are you guys gonna play with us?” she asked you and Bee. “I keep beating them and it’s not fun anymore.” 

You and Bee both laughed at that. “Sure, why not.”

“It feels weird playing with her after talking about how hot her dad is,” Bee whispered in your ear when Sarah went first. “You think he’ll come over here?”

“And what would you do if he did?” you challenged while hiding a chuckle, raising your brows at her.

“Um, probably nothing,” she admitted, cheeks a little pink. “He’s fun to look at though.” 

You hummed. “You’re not wrong.” 

The two of you played a few rounds of ring toss, although Bee got very bored quickly. “Can we go get some drinks?” she asked after not that long of playing.

“Sure,” you decided. You waved bye to Sarah and the others as the two of you walked off towards the cooler.

Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed some of the other girls in the neighborhood that hadn’t been in attendance before. For a couple that you knew, it didn’t seem like their scene. 

“What are they doing here?” you asked Bee.

“I may or may not have also told them the neighborhood dilf was here. They, uh, wanted to… see him,” she answered, avoiding eye contact.

You raised your brows in slight disbelief. “Are you serious?” 

“I wanted more people our age here,” Bee defended. “I wasn’t sure if you were even gonna show.”

You scoffed out a laugh. “You’re ridiculous,” you told her.

You reached the cooler and knelt down. You handed Bee a water, but she didn’t accept it. You looked up at her.

“Keep an eye out for the dilf, I haven’t seen him in a while. I’ll be right back,” Bee told you, taking off before you could say anything. You guessed the bathroom given her speed walking inside.

You laughed a little to yourself as you stood back up. You kept the water for yourself. You looked out amongst the crowd, realizing you were now on your own while everyone was in groups. You saw a couple people you were friends with and thought of maybe going up and joining them, but someone else spotted you first.

Joel Miller, the aforementioned neighborhood dilf, was walking towards you. Bee would be jealous, especially if she knew you and Joel were actually friends.

You had thought about telling Bee and some of the other girls that you were friends with Joel, given how much they just loved to gossip about him (how he was still single, how he looked really good in his pajamas getting the mail, that one time he took his shirt off while mowing the lawn—that was a big day) but then you thought better of it, not wanting to be run out of town by a jealous mob.

You were already getting glances by the time Joel stopped by your side so maybe your humbleness was pointless.

“Saw you all alone, thought I’d come keep you company,” Joel broke the ice with ease.

How long had he been watching you? The thought made your cheeks feel warm.

“Wow, what a gentleman,” you teased lightly, causing Joel to chuckle.

“I try,” he joked back, shooting you a small wink.

When you had first met Joel you were nervous around him. It was much easier to talk to him now that the two of you had become friends rather than acquaintances. He was an easy guy to get along with and you found yourself genuinely enjoying his company rather than just gawking at him in his yard from your window (like you used to do in high school). Your crush hadn’t disappeared though, so you joked around with him as a way to keep things casual and avoid getting in your own head. 

“Sarah told me you were finally here, she was happy to see you,” Joel mentioned with a light smile.

That made you smile back. “She’s a sweet kid,” you told him. “I was happy to see her too.”

You fiddled with the water bottle in your hand as you spoke, trying to unscrew the cap. The stupid thing was stuck and after a few seconds you gave up.

Joel gave you an amused look, glancing between your face and hands. “You want help with that?”

“Yes, please,” you handed it to him. “There you go again, proving chivalry isn’t dead. Thank you.”

Joel unscrewed the cap with ease and handed it back. “Happy to be at your service.”

“So, you guys been here a while?” you asked, sparking up conversation.

“Not too long, only an hour or so. It’s been fun though,” Joel explained. “More for Sarah than for me,” he admitted, glancing around to find his daughter. He spotted her and she waved, then continued playing with her friends.

“Why’s that?” you wondered, looking up at him just as he looked down at you. 

“Just… I mean, everyone is nice and all,” he started. “But I just feel like I got nothin’ to talk about with them, y’know? Except you.”

“Really?” You tried to not sound too thrown off by that, but you didn’t know he felt like that. It was interesting to say the least. 

“Is that such a surprise?” he wondered, raising an eyebrow curiously.

You shrugged. “Maybe a little. I get it though, I haven’t really talked to anyone other than Bee yet.”

“I don’t know if you’re friends with them, but I saw a bunch of girls your age walking around,” Joel said as a suggestion. 

“Nah, I’d rather just talk to you,” you said casually, before you could even think about what you had said. The look on Joel’s face changed a little, like he was trying to bite back a bigger smile.

“Well, that’s nice to hear,” he said after a moment. Your eyes met his and the way he looked at you made your heart skip a beat. You had to look away to be able to breathe, almost certain you were reading into things. You really, really did not want to be disappointed.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” Joel said, making you realize you hadn’t spoken yet.

“Sure, yeah.”

“You know… young person lingo, don't you?”

You laughed at the awkward wording. If it had been any of the other adults here using the word “lingo” you would’ve cringed, but there was something cute about the way Joel said it. You tried to snap that thought out of your head.

“Mostly, yeah,” you replied with a little chuckle paired with a curious tone. “What’s up?”

“Do you know what a dilf is?” he asked bluntly. That alone told you he had no idea. 

You were so stunned, all you could think to say was, “why?”

“Well, those girls I mentioned… I overhead some of them calling me that,” he explained, his eyebrows furrowing a little. “It’s not bad, is it?” 

Was this karma coming back to you for starting the nickname? It wouldn’t have surprised you. 

“It’s not bad, no,” you assured while also avoiding the main question.

“What is it then?” Joel’s interest was piqued now and while you couldn’t blame him, you also couldn’t think of a way to make this not weird.

“It’s an acronym,” you started. Joel watched you intently, waiting for an explanation. “It means dad I’d like to…” you trailed off, hinting at him the word to fill in the blank.

Joel just looked even more confused. “To what?”

Somehow he made cluelessness incredibly attractive.

Screw it, you thought. This was already weird. Rip the bandaid off, right? “Fuck,” you finished before you could think better of it. 

“Oh,” he stated. You knew it took a second for realization to hit. “Oh. So that means they, um,”

“It’s basically like saying you’re hot,” you explained, filling in when he couldn’t. You hoped he wouldn’t find it insulting or anything like that.

Joel looked a little bashful but found amusement in the situation nonetheless. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“You should,” you suggested, then sipped your water. You looked out at the people milling about rather than meeting his gaze.

“Do you think I’m one?”

You nearly choked on your water. “What?”

“Sorry,” Joel apologized quickly, trying to laugh it off. “I shouldn't've asked that.”

“It’s alright,” you assured him. You paused for a minute, contemplating what you might say to that. You got a rush of bravery. “If you’re asking if I think you’re attractive… the answer is yes.”

Joel couldn’t hold back his smile. He tried, but it was a failed effort. It was like he was trying to contain his anticipation. “What about if I wanted to ask you out? What would your answer be then?”

“Yes.”

Joel grinned. “I was hoping you’d say that,” he admitted. 

“Dad!” Sarah’s voice caused the two of you to look away from one another. You saw her running up to you guys and hoped she hadn’t heard a word of your conversation. “Can you come play with me? Mr. Grant just set up a bean bag toss!” 

“Sure, kiddo,” he told her. She grabbed his hand and started to drag him away. 

You smiled a little to yourself at the interaction—he was such a good dad.

Joel slowed her down a little bit to look back at you. “I’ll call you later, okay?” 

“Sounds good,” you replied, chuckling lightly. 

The Millers disappeared into the roaming people. You tried to follow them with your gaze but your attention got torn away.

“Waiting in a line for the bathroom in my own house is messed up,” Bee said, popping out seemingly out of nowhere. “What’s got you so happy?” she wondered, eyeing the smile on your face that couldn’t be erased.

“You won’t believe what just happened,” you replied. A part of you still couldn’t believe it. “I’ve got a date with the neighborhood dilf.”

joel taglist: @the-ice-frozen-ground-red-rose @dontphunkwithmylove @cilliansangel @amethystwonders11 @frogsmuahh037 @andy-rocks @melllinaa @alitaar @melanie451 @b00kw0rmsworld @reverieisaway @avengersfan25 @aheadfullofsteverogers @strangeh0rizons @spideysimpossiblegirl @shannonmariebee

if you would like to be added to the joel taglist just send me an ask or a message! <3

#quin-ns writing #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #joel x reader #the last of us #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you

[evergone]

I'm [Nott] a Bad Person

Theodore Nott x Reader

Warnings: swearing, bullying

Description: The reader and Theo are accused of causing a fight, but they swear they didn't do it.

Professor McGonagall’s office was a little too **Gryffindor-esque for your tastes. The couches, wallpaper, and even the rug on the floor underneath her desk were all some shade of dark red and you had no other way to describe it other than ‘detestably Gryffindor.’ Even so, the fireplace opposite the door warmed the room and gave it that undeniably homey feel you always got when you returned to Hogwarts after the long, hot break between years. She had a few paintings hanging from her walls, but either the subjects were busy elsewhere or she just had a thing for landscapes. One in particular caught your eye, a painting of the Forbidden Forest where you had certainly never been. After all, it was forbidden and you, ever the obedient Slytherin, would never break a rule.

“Do you know why you are here?” The professor asked and your attention slid back to the situation you were in.

“I know why they’re here,” Theo responded from your left, “But Y/n and I are victims.”

“Oh, please, you lot started this whole thing!” Granger squeaked like that little mouse the weasel kid used to have.

“Do you ever shut up, Granger?” Theo retorted.

Your lips tightened as you attempted to stifle a laugh and Theo sent you a quick smirk. McGonagall cleared her throat, again regaining your limited attention span as she tapped impatiently on her brown wooden desk; creating a dum-dum, dum-dum sound under the pads of her fingers like a heartbeat. Furrowed brows and an intense stare told you more than enough about her absolutely foul mood, and you reminded yourself not to play around with her.

“Each of you, tell me the story,” she said, “You first, Mister Potter.”

Theo muttered an ‘of course’ under his breath but you pretended not to hear it. If anyone was to get in trouble you were going to make damn sure it wasn’t you. You had a reputation to uphold; the nicest Slytherin anyone would ever meet. A façade, obviously, you were just as ruthless and cunning as your housemates, but the nice façade was what made you so. It was truly a shame Potter and co. had found you out, but you intended to cover your ass so well that no one else would ever know the truth about you, save for your friends.

“Well, uh…” Potter began to recount his version of the tale.

Apparently (and I say ‘apparently’ because despite his story being almost entirely accurate, you were going to make up a completely different one to get away with this), he had come to you in a free period to ask about how to befriend dragons quickly, knowing as well as most that your family had been breeding dragons since the dawn of dragonology. You were skeptical of him, having never quite interacted with him directly, only through the wild stories Draco or Pansy would tell you or small altercations in the halls that you always pulled Theo away from. Draco could do as he wished but you wouldn’t see yourself or your boyfriend being implicated in his shenanigans.

“I’m not supposed to talk to you,” you had told Potter.

“And why’s that?” He asked.

“All my friends say that you’re — and I’m quoting them here — ‘a mudblood mingling cunt,’” you said, “And though I have no care in the world for blood purity, I do like my friends quite a bit. They wouldn’t hang out with me if I got caught with you.”

You always had a wonderful way of putting things. Your monotonous voice mixed with your incredibly harsh words made for the most readable and expressive conversations. Potter’s little muggle born girlfriend (or girl friend, whichever it was) had almost jumped out of her own socks at your foul language. Personally offended, perhaps? You didn’t mean to hurt her, it just sort of slipped out. Maybe if you were actually a nicer person you’d apologise.

“Just… give me a hand? I know you helped Cedric,” Potter pleaded.

You shrugged, “I really can’t talk to you,” you said, “Though… I am weak to bribery… Maybe if you find me something I want I’ll help you out. Bye.”

And then you pushed through the group to go find your friends who you were bound to find eating in the courtyard instead of studying. Smart kids never studied and neither did dumb kids. When Crabbe and Goyle were there it was easy to tell the difference, but other times, not so much. Allegedly (again, I say this to protect the integrity of the tale you would later tell), you stopped half a step through and turned to show Potter your badge.

“Draco says you really like them,” you laughed, “Get a closer look.”

Desperate for your help and willing to do anything, Potter leaned closer to watch as the red ‘Support Cedric’ turned to the green ‘Potter stinks’ but then a forth colour emerged, a deep purple with no writing. He opened his mouth to ask what that colour meant, but was abruptly cut off when the badge squirted the most revolting smelling purple goo all over him. Again, allegedly, you had cursed it to do that when it saw his face… You would argue that someone must have cursed it prior to giving it to you without your knowing.

“Now you really do stink!” You had smiled sarcastically, “Bye now.”

You then continued on your journey to find your friends, leaving Potter drenched in the most malodorous thing he had ever smelt.

Later that very same day, he had approached you at lunch with a bribe. Oh, how you loved to be bribed. You were like a politician in that sense. He placed two objects in front of you: a book you knew was from the restricted section titled ‘Advanced Curses and How to Master Them,’ and a purse full of coins which, after peeking through the opening at the top, you realised were all gold.

“You know, you shouldn’t bribe people so out in the open, Potter,” You motioned to Theo, Pansy and Draco, all of whom were giving you looks that asked what in the name of Salazar were you doing, “It’s… counterproductive.”

“Merlin’s beard, L/n, just take it and help me,” Potter said.

“Is he bothering you, Y/n?” Theo asked.

You’d glanced between your boyfriend and Potter, wondering what to do in the situation. Potter noticed you’d become flustered at being put on the spot like that, even mentioned it to McGonagall. Truthfully, your head was telling you to say no because you knew as well as anyone how Theo could be when you were uneasy. He was awfully protective. But your heart wanted you to say yes so you could start a little fight and make your friends and Theo proud. You were never quite as provocative as they were when it came to the whole Slytherin-Gryffindor thing and it made you slightly self conscious, to be honest.

You would tell McGonagall that your head won, and Potter had started the fight. Theo was only defending you from the very scary Gryffindor who had decided to attack you just because you didn’t want to help him out earlier. But, in all honesty, your heart had won, or so the story goes.

“Yes, Teddy, he’s been bothering me all day,” you had said.

“How ‘bout you leave, Potter?” Theo asked, but it was hardly a question.

Potter rolled his eyes, “We had a deal, L/n.”

“I don’t think she would’ve agreed to anything with you,” Theo said and (allegedly) shoved Potter from across the table.

It was at that point that all hell broke loose. Potter’s explanation of the situation was riddled with what you would call lies about getting his shit rocked by Theo’s incredible fighting skills. You’d bloodied your boyfriend up afterwards using a little glamour charm you kept handy in case of emergencies. That was yet another way you were like a politician, you were incredible at deceiving people. On the off chance McGonagall noticed the charm, Theo had agreed to take the fall and stage an argument with you where you’d break up with him. The relationship wouldn’t be destroyed, you’d just act strained for a week or so while he did detention.

“Miss L/n, these are a lot of accusations being thrown,” McGonagall said, her eyes staring down at you over her nose, “What say you?”

You let your bottom lip quiver, but you wouldn’t dare cry. That would be too much and she wouldn’t believe you for a second. You may have had a good reputation, but she loved Potter and co. and had a huge bias in their favour. You had to be so convincing that she wouldn’t have a single doubt.

“I just didn’t want to get involved,” you said, “Professor, I’m a Slytherin, there’s a certain… standard that I’m held to. I told Potter that I didn’t want to help him because everyone would be upset with me and he tried to bribe me of his own accord.”

“She’s obviously lying, Professor, please—”

“Miss Granger, Miss L/n didn’t interrupt your telling of events, I suggest you don’t interrupt hers.”

You continued to lie through your teeth like a professional. You’d think McGonagall would know to use a truth serum when dealing with teenagers, but she was too trusting. Photographs of former students were framed on her desk, others who likely lied to her as you were doing. They were mostly Gryffindors, for obvious reasons, but there were Ravenclaws, Hufflepuffs and the odd Slytherin as well, all of them moving slightly in celebration of their graduations. Potter and co. would likely end up on that desk one day and while you’d hope yourself and your friends would end up on Snape’s, he had never come across as the sentimental type.

“One of you aren’t telling me the truth,” McGonagall said with a sigh once you had finished your recount, “Know that I’m disappointed in you but I cannot be bothered to deal with this today. If I hear about troubles with you lot again I will not hesitate to give you all detention.”

A chorus of ‘yes, Professor’s filled the room before she shooed you all out to go your separate ways. At the door to her office which she had closed behind the four of you, or rather, the two and two of you, Theo turned to the others.

“Don’t start things you can’t finish, Potter,” he said with a snarky tone.

Potter and Granger hardly acknowledged the remark, and you found yourself missing the weasel boy who would have leapt at the opportunity to throw something back. At your core, you liked to consider yourself morally good, but Merlin’s beard, you were a bit of an instigator, perhaps even a bully, weren’t you? You glanced at Theo, who you hadn’t realised had begun a little bit of a rant about blood superiority, and laughed out loud.

“What?” He asked you, his head on the slightest tilt that it was hardly noticeable.

“I think you and the others have turned me into a bad person,” you giggled, biting your lip.

“Y/n/n, that’s so fucking mean,” he said, “You are so rude.”

“I learnt from the best,” you teased as you poked his arm.

Theo shook his head and captured your arm in his so the two of you could walk back to the Slytherin dorms together.

#theo nott x y/n #theo nott x you #theo nott x reader #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter #draco malfoy x reader #mattheo riddle x reader #theodore nott #harry potter imagine #harry potter fanfic #theodore nott fanfic #theo nott #slytherin x reader #slytherin #pansy parkinson x reader #blaise zabini x reader #x reader #hp fandom

[julieloves074]

I want you (Cole Walter x reader)

Summary: When the storm hits the ranch and most of the family is at Will's evening party Y/n and Cole are left to talk in the candle light, which could end either beautifully or tragically as they navigate whatever is happening between them.

Warnings: Death, kissing, swearing

Words: 4.27k

(Not my Gif :) )

“I still can’t believe that I let you take me to that party” I said to Cole as he pulled out candles from the top drawer in the living room.

“I can’t believe that you came,” he turned to me briefly, his eyes beautiful even in the shade of this storm and little light, he turned back to the draw, “I’m glad you were there,” he said, quieter this time, I couldn’t help the ghost of a smile that started to lift the corner of my lips.

“Apart from the fact that I vomited on you right?” I tried to defuse the energy that was building up here with a laugh.

“Eh, could have been worse,” he started and turned around to face me again holding two candles, “Alright this is all of them now,”. We took a couple each and laid them around the kitchen and the living room.

“Can you pass me the lighter from the kitchen?” Cole called from the other room, I picked it out from the ‘anything and everything’ draw that every family has in their house and walked to the other room.

The darkness made it hard to see, but the outline of his frame was as clear as day, it felt as if I knew his frame well enough to find him anywhere.

“Thanks,” he reached for the lighter and our hands touch. As cliché as in every book I’ve ever read and every romcom I’ve ever watched. His hands weren’t soft or rough they were the perfect medium, he’s helped George on the farm since he was young and played football but there was still a compassionate side to him, one that he didn’t like to show.

His thumb brushed over my hand, he looked down briefly and I knew I should pull my hand free and step away, knowing the feelings Alex had for me. Even though he knows I don’t share the same feelings back I would still feel wrong to do this with his brother. Then Cole’s eyes came up to meet mine and he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out.

“If you want to start lighting up the candles, I’m just going to check the kids are asleep,” I explained rushing towards the stairs with one last gentle smile. That was another good reminder, everyone else may be at some fancy party but we were still looking after the younger Walter siblings.

Just as I had expected they were all still asleep tucked away just how Katherine had settled them down. The Walter’s slept hard, nothing wakes them up, not even a ranging storm with killer winds apparently.

After checking up on all of them I head towards the stairs again, but something catches my eye as I go to lower my foot onto the first step. A little packaged box on a dresser in Cole and Danny’s room. I tear my eyes away from it and take the first step. Yet just as quickly as I looked away, I looked back to the little brown box with the blue bow.

I stepped lightly to avoid any squeaky board; the box was sat there surrounded with a mix of both the boy’s stuff. I raised my brows in confusion, I knew I shouldn’t be doing this, that I was invading their privacy, but the inquisitiveness got the best of me. If it’s Danny’s, I’m sure he wouldn’t mind anyway.

From the handwriting on the note at the top I could immediately tell that it wasn’t Danny’s, his handwriting much neater, almost cursive, which I still found impressive. It just said my name, I opened the folded piece of paper and had to read over the short note a couple of times before it registered.

‘It’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply’

My mom’s favorite quote staring right at me. The quote I told Cole that day when…

***

We had just finished our shift at the cider stand, Will and Alex had already packed everything up into the van. Alex was less than impressed by the fact that Cole decided to come out of his depression cocoon to come and help and help he did. He auctioned himself away for an afternoon and helped us raise over double of the money we needed for the new auditorium.

“You fancy a little detour?” He asked, looking away from the road momentarily with a half smirk my way, I shook my head but a light smile still found its way onto my lips.

“What are you thinking?” I asked, I couldn’t disguise that I was curious, getting to know Cole was hard. Some days he was rays of sunshine and an open book other days, most days, he shut himself out, hiding behind a carless façade. I was guilty of the fact that I wanted him to sweep me away for a while into his own world.

“It’ll have to be a surprise,” he said, the smile still there when he looked bacl onto the road, I may have not been here long yet but I knew the second he took a different turn. We drove through some more woodlands until we came to a clearing, the sky absolutely clear.

When I stepped out of the car a fresh breeze flushed against my skin, it was refreshing.

“So… what do you think?” he says walking ahead of me. I followed not too far behind looking around taking in the surroundings. The river flowed surrounded by more trees and low rocks.

“It’s really beautiful here,”

“Alright come on then!” He shouted louder as he started to run towards the river

“Cole where are you going!” I called back, stood still watching him.

“Well we can’t go home now!” He turned around momentarily, gesturing me over with his hands. I shook my head and shut the car door, following behind him, my hair flowing in the wind beneath my hat.

When I finally caught up the sound of the gushing river was clearer and there he stood on some rocks, his back to me, jacket on the ground. He reached down to grab something, I stepped onto the same rock, more cautiously than him.

“There, for you,” he pushed the flower he was holding out towards me. I eyed him cautiously, his teasing side coming out, “Come on, I’m being nice,” his head tilted slightly.

I gave in reaching for the purple flower, he pulled it back a little with a laugh and I shook my head slightly, he pushed it my way again but lets me take it this time. In the exact same moment, he steals the hat off my head.

“Hey!” I shouted going to reach for it, he moves away, flaunting the hat in different directions, taunting me with it, “This is not fair,” I claimed moving towards him away. He’s laughing and I’m laughing, and it feels like a weight lifted off my chest.

I stop for a second, Cole stops too a moment later, that cheeky smile playing his lips. In that moment of calm I reached for the hat and his coat that was now next to my feet.

“Hey that wasn’t part of the rules!” He called coming after me this time, I’ve suddenly gained the confidence that I won’t fall into the water.

“Oh sorry, didn’t realize there were any rules,” I answered in the same tone, I moved another couple of steps and turned to start running onto the grass. Cole’s arms found their way around me as he tried for the jacket. I turned my head to face him, our faces centimeters apart. He pulled me closer laughing into the back of my neck.

“Okay okay, draw?” He asked his breath still on the back of my neck

“Deal,” I said taking a step forward as his grip eased, his hands followed the shape of my waist until the comforting touch was gone. He took the jacket and laid it out on the rock, laying down on half of it. I sat down next to him on the jacket as well.

“Do you feel any better now?” He asked after a moment of silence, my eyes focused on the river. The last couple of days have been rough, not only was I feeling homesick for New York, it had also officially been six months since the accident. It was all overwhelming, especially with Erin giving me a hard time.

I let out a breath before answering, “Yeah, thanks for this,” I said turning to look at him, he smiled and nodded, his arms followed behind his head. Whilst I knew a part of him took me here to make me feel better, I knew it was so that he could get away for himself too. We weren’t running from reality exactly, but taking a break.

“You know what my mom used to say?” I said laying down beside him, he turned on his side, leaning his head against his arm so he was looking down at me, “she always said that it’s both a blessing and a curse to feel everything so deeply,” I put a hand over my brows to guard them from the sun, and so I could see his face, hoping he understood what I was saying, I was here if he needed to talk. No matter how much he was hiding behind his persona I knew that he cared.

He nodded and laid back down, taking a deep breath. It didn’t feel like we were there for that long with the sun glimmering on our faces, it wasn’t until a call from Katherine came through that I realized that we’d been here for well over an hour.

“We should probably get back, mom does not like it when we don’t make it home for dinner,” he said getting up and offering me his hand. I squinted my eyes but reached for the help, of course he pulled back his hands ever so slightly. I shooed him away and went to get up myself.

“I’m not falling for that again,” I laughed.

“Oh come on I’m sorry,” he pulled that face where his eyes were the center of the universe it was truly quite mesmerizing. I reached my hand out again grabbing his jacket in the other and passing it to him. I walked a few steps ahead and he put it around my shoulders and we walked back to the car.

***

Underneath all the tissue paper there lays the small, beautiful music box that Parker accidentally knocked over; it was no longer smashed to pieces. I opened it and immediately the little figurine inside started to swirl around and a low song started to play.

I could feel the tears beginning to build in my eyes, my lips shaking. I closed the box and pulled it close to myself, arms around it tightly. The quote was right, these feelings were a blessing and a curse. They made me feel happy and good but on the other hand I feel like I’m betraying one for another.

“So, Y/n are you going to make me this famous hot chocolate of yours?” Cole says from the bottom of the stairs, I push the music box back into the little packages and press the note back at the top laying it back in the exact spot it was before. My heart beating twice as violently as it was before. I try even harder not to make a sound leaving his room.

“Coming!” I whisper-yelled back, in the kitchen now lit up by about a dozen candles it was clear how dark it was outside, I was glad that we managed to clear everything from the yard into the barns before the rain started.

“I’ve got everything prepped,” he said proudly and in the little candlelight it was as if I was seeing his face people for the first time. In the silence, no distractions, and his smile protruding through even the worst of the weather.

“If you take a picture, it’ll last longer,” he retorted, and I looked away with a scoff.

“Yeah, you wish, I guess I didn’t realize how bad it was outside until now,”

“It’ll be alright, it’s predicted to be a minor storm, the ranch has survived much worse. There was this really bad one once when I was about eight. I genuinely thought the wind was going to rip out the foundations of the house, or the rain was going to break through the roof and drown us,” he laughed to himself, pushing the two mugs towards me alongside the chocolate power, milk, vanilla and some other ingredients I asked for.

“I imagine how that could be scary for an eight year old,” I reassure working my magic with my ingredients.

“Don’t worry I’ll keep you safe tonight,” the teasing in his voice clear, he took a step towards me his face beside mine but I focus on the coco powder. It just feels like every time we could be having a moment, something vulnerable and real he disconnects. He’s said he’s a flirt and maybe that’s just that- but then what about the note and my music box?

“Haha you’re just so funny, are you just trying to hide the fact that you’re still scared?” I retort, keeping my composure, pushing his face away with one of my hands, he takes a step back and laughs shaking his head.

“Whatever makes you feel better New York,” he comments watching me heat up the milk.

He holds both our mugs as we make our way into the living room, it’s even prettier in here, he’s started the fire and lit up all the candles around it. I can’t help but give him a smile, there’s a spot perfect for the two of us.

“Go on try it,” I prod after we sit down, he looks down in the mug first and smells it, “I’m not trying to poison you if that’s what you think,”

“Alex would like it if you were,” he laughs lifting the mug to his lip, he takes a big sip and licks the whipped cream off of his top lip.

“Don’t say stuff like that, you guys may fight but you’re brothers it’s bound to happen, but you care for each other and I know he would protect you with all he’s got,” I assure him, he doesn’t say anything back to this, he avoids the subject like the plague even when he’s the one who brings it up.

“This-,” he says instead, looking down at the mug in his hand again, I couldn’t read his face if I tried, one of his brows raises for a split second as if he’s trying to organize all his thoughts about the chocolate. I know that it’s good but, in this moment, I’m metaphorically sat on the edge of my seat, eager to know his thoughts. “Is amazing, sweet and spicy at the same time, who the hell came up with this?”

The second those words come out of his mouth I feel myself beginning to be able to breathe again, the tension in my shoulders dissipates and I reach for my mug, “I did tell you, have some more confidence in me Cole,” I announce proudly and take a sip of the angelic drink.

His eyes watched me, I could feel his stare everywhere on my body, as if he was actually trailing his fingers over my skin.

I put the mug down, half gone already, Cole let out some sort of laugh and shifted closer to me, his hand reached towards my face, and I was frozen. My eyes watching his and his watching mine. Almost automatically my body and face shifted towards him. A smirk quired up on one side of his mouth. He brushed his thumb across my top lip.

“You had a bit of… whipped cream,” he said moving back just enough to show me, he licked it off his finger. Were either of us to move even slightly we could break the distance between us.

I’m scared. Sat here with him like this feels like a fever dream, like any second a sudden move could shatter this illusion, because this couldn’t be real, any second he’s going to pull back with some sort of snarky comment, and I’ll look like a fool.

But he wasn’t moving, and neither was I.

“I saw the music box, you fixed it,” I whispered into the space between us, my voice sounding as though it could break any moment.

“Nothing is ever too broken to be fixed, that’s something else your mom used to say right?” he whispered back, the shadows of the candles and the fire danced across his face.

“I hope you know how much that means to me. Thank you.” I was raw and honest, even with the things between us left unsaid, for the better, he deserved this, “For the music box, for my mom’s quotes, for letting me see the glimpses of the real you,” with each word my heartbeat sped up.

“I would do anything for you if you let me,” He murmured as if speaking any louder would smash this fragile thing happening around us right now. The tip of his finger grazes across my cheekbone, his eyes follow the line. I never feel his touch, just the ghost of it, sending shivers through my body that I try my best to keep from showing.

I scan his face, every beautiful angle and feature that makes him perfect, just the way he is.

I want to. I want to let him in so badly, to let him know every corner of my heart, I want to be fully immersed in whatever this is we’re building here, for him to have me, for me to have him but all that comes out is, “I want to,” because the foundations were building here are rocky and not stable.

His gaze shifts from my one eye to the other then to my lips and again.

“But you can’t because of…” he lets out so quietly I almost miss it

“I don’t have any feelings for him Cole,” there was a shift in his expression at my words, a guilty smile, “but he’s your brother, he’s one of my closest friends and he lives here too, this isn’t just about us, there’s your family,” I argue, but my excuses are sounding weak even to myself.

He moved closer, his knee touching mine, his breath warm.

Without further thought I laced my arms around his neck, running my fingers from the sides to the back pulling him close. A simple kiss, which did not last long enough. It was short, controlled. I pulled back realizing what I had just done. Maybe we just needed it out of our systems.

Still no words were exchanged, we just looked at each other. I knew I needed to move, to get up and out of the room but when his hand found its way to my forearm and pulled me towards him, I just gave in.

His hands explored my neck, cheeks and hair as the kiss became more passionate. I could feel my cheeks glowing a bright red, thankful it would be too hard to see in this light. Finally, he settled them on either side of my face whilst one of my hands found its place on his neck, the other exploring the honey-blonde hair on the nape of his neck.

I don’t know how long we were kissing but when he pulled away to look at me I knew it hadn’t been long enough. Both our chests heaving, me certain that my heart was about to give out. It felt so right I couldn’t let this slip away from me.

I grabbed onto his neck and pulled him towards me again. The kiss wasn’t rough, but it was filled by a burning need. All those months of the back and forth, the uncertain, the toying around the subject and now finally. Finally, I got to feel what this burning passion meant. What I’ve never felt with anyone else.

His hand one hand travelled to my neck, his thumb brushing comfortingly, his other pulling me towards him, I don’t know how much closer we could get until he was pulling me onto him. My legs on either side of his body. Chest to chest. Only clothes between us.

“Cole,” I whispered when his mouth travelled down my jaw to my neck kissing every inch of exposed skin. He paused cautiously, checking with his eyes that I was okay, that he wasn’t taking it too far. I nodded entangling my hand in locks, the hot chocolate long forgotten.

It was a euphoric feeling until my heart stopped when we heard the door open. I pushed off his lap and he helped me up.

“Hey, are you guys alright the lights aren’t-” Alex stopped when he made it to the doorframe to the living room, his eyes quickly found mine, then Cole’s, he hadn’t seen anything, no one would know, but even just seeing us here together, surrounded by candles could give anyone the impression.

“The storm blew out the electric box,” I said, my walls building right back up, keeping this eye contact while I could see the hurt in his eyes was more painful than I could have imagined but I couldn’t look away, then he’d know something had in fact happened. The light came back on with a click in the hallway.

“It’s because of the storm, what happened?” George asked walking into the living room, Katherine beside him, she gave me a weak smile.

“I’m going to check up on the kids, you guys make sure all the candles are blown out, let’s not start any fires tonight,” she added a cheerful tone and a chuckle but the still the tension in the room could probably be cut with a knife. Whether she meant literally or metaphorically I agreed with her, I did not want anything to explode between these two Walter boys.

“She managed to get it to work for a few minutes, but it gave out again, we thought it would be safer to leave the box alone,” Cole confirmed to his dad who nodded in agreement. I didn’t look at Cole as he volunteered to help his dad with the candles in the kitchen.

I thought Alex would say something when we were left alone. It looked like he really wanted to say something, but he just shook his head slightly and ran upstairs. I bit into my bottom lip and closed my eyes. It’s not like I hadn’t told him that I didn’t feel the same way, still the guilt washed over like a destructive wave. I took a deep breath and after a second started to blow out the candles before heading up to my bedroom.

***

I tossed and turned every few minutes in my bed for what felt like hours. I heard someone come out of their room half an hour ago, I assumed it was one of the Walter’s going to the toilet, but the person went downstairs, and was yet to come back up. Something in me knew it was Cole, he probably couldn’t sleep like me.

After another few restless minutes, I let out a huff and sat up in bed. All of the emotions were still buzzing and brewing inside my body. I threw my comforter off me and put on a hoodie and some outdoor slippers. Before I knew it, I was tip-toeing my way downstairs hoping I was doing a better job than whoever had gone down before me.

Walking out the front door I could see the beginning of the sunrise, at what looked like the other end of the world, out there in the fields the first sights of amber and yellow were rising out of the grass in the horizon.

I spotted Cole immediately sitting on the railing looking out at the view. The ranch was truly a magnificent sight, it was breathtaking, how could anyone not fall in love with this place just seeing this.

I stepped on one of the weaker wooden panels which let out a single sound, Cole looked around instantly, but the smile that shone on his face mere hours ago was not there now.

“I won’t break my brother’s heart ever again” he starts solemnly, “But I can’t not want you, how could I not?” he looked at me, the tears in my eyes are again threatening to spill. He hopped down and walked over to me. Nothing more said.

He wrapped his arms around me and pulled me close, laying his head on top of mine. I laced my arms around his torse, holding him tightly in the quiet of the post-storm, looking out at sunrise like it was a painting in a gallery to be looked at for hours.

“Your mom was right when she said it’s a blessing and a curse to feel so deeply” he whispered into my hair and I just tightened my hold on him. She was always right, and hell did I wish she was here now to tell me what I can do to make this all stop hurting.

What’s happened can’t be taken back now, the consequences long-term are yet to be seen and I suppose I’ll just have to take it day by day. Navigate this chaos of events and feelings. Hoping that it’ll all work out.

MASTER LIST

#cole walter x reader #cole walter #my life with the walter boys #mlwtwb #alex walter #jackie howard #netflix #danncy walter #cole x reader

[hephaestuscrew]

Thinking about what it means to be part of a crew in Wolf 359... 

Ep15 What’s Up Doc?

Ep18 Let’s Kill Hilbert

Ep25 Lame-o Superhero Origin Story

Ep31 Sécurité

Ep36 Fire and Brimstone

Ep52 Constructive Criticism

#w359 #Wolf 359 #I don't think 'crew' = 'found family' in w359 #(The found family as I see it is a subsection of the crew) #but I do think 'crew' often means something more than just 'the people who happen to be on this station with me' #I think what this group of quotes really come down to is: #your crew are people you have responsibilities to and they have responsibilities to you #And considering someone part of your crew is partly a choice #Considering yourself part of a crew is partly a choice #Like when they emphasise the importance of being part of the crew that's not about Goddard #(which kinda links back to that long post I did ages ago about Minkowski's role as Commander) #Reminds me of Lambert's 'We don't get to choose who we fight with we don't get to choose who we fight against. #We only get to choose how we stand together. Against the enemy' #With Hera it's obviously significant when they call her 'crew' #because its affirming her as an equal #with the rights and responsibilities that entails #And its interesting that Lovelace and Minkowski effectively do the same thing for Eiffel in Constructive Criticism #I love doing this genre of post that's just: here are some quotes on a theme. maybe other people can have smart thoughts about them #Undescribed #Long post

[batmanego]

Dear Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer whose product I consumed at 12 am last night desperately seeking relief,

I’m sure that this message will reach you in vain as the only way I can possibly imagine you committing such a transgression would be intentionally, on purpose, to be cruel, but I have to try anyway.

Are you aware that ‘mint’ and ‘cherry’ are two distinct flavors that do not need to become one within your liquid?

You can just choose one. It’s okay. I don’t need both. I’m not that greedy. In fact, I really barely need a taste at all. I appreciate what you’re trying to do, as I’m sure the natural taste of this medicine is awful, but honestly at this point you’re kind of overcompensating and creating something that might actually be worse than the alternative.

Whatever rogue alchemist you have concocting your brews really needs a talking-to because the experience I had last night was as follows: I could not breathe because there was so much coughing happening. I stumbled out into the kitchen desperate for any kind of intervention from a higher, medicinal power. I found your creation. It was bright red. Perhaps where my first mistake lay was that I did not have an accurate measuring tool by which to dole out your dosage. I had to eyeball it in a shot glass. Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer, I’ve never drank due to a history of addiction in my family, but consuming your products might drive me to it.

The first thing that I experienced was the sticky and unpleasant medicinal “cherry” flavor. I put cherry in quotes because I don’t think it’s at all accurate to how cherries taste, but it is red. So it has that going for it. This would have been bearable, if it was not for the fact that shortly after my tastebuds became acquainted with cherry (grimacing and shaking hands politely but uncomfortably) that you decided mint had to come along too, like some sort of wayward fraternity reject intent on crashing the party. My tastebuds recoiled. It was nauseating. I felt like I was going to throw up. I dry heaved at least once.

Generic Cough Syrup Manufacturer, you are aware that in order for your product to take effect, it has to stay down, yes? People have to be able to stomach it. It should not make me compulsively go through the “I’m about to be sick” motions. It should not have an aftertaste that haunts my mouth for eight long hours during a fitful sleep (because your product did not even do what I wanted it to do) and reminds me of its presence in the morning.

Why did you do this? Why did you decide that these two flavors have to coalesce? Were you coerced into doing such a thing? Have you simply never eaten food before and don’t know what tastes are? Are you cruel and trying to punish me further? I don’t know. I really don’t. I’m going to have to take two more eyeballed shot glasses of your repulsive, awful, mint-and-cherry’s-bastard-lovechild-bursting-out-of-mama-like-alien concoction tonight. I’m not looking forward to it. You sick bastards.

[dosie-dosie]

THINGS TO DO WITH YOUR OCS

If you’re like me and you like to play around with your OCs a lot, here’s some things you can do with them!

ART & CRAFTS

Put your OCs in character scenario memes! Here’s some I found on Deviantart.

Do an art trade where you draw someone’s OC and they draw yours!

Use those "Draw The Squad" templates and draw your OCs.

Crochet/knit/sew/etc. a plushie of your OC.

You can also make a paper doll! You can find tons of tutorials on youtube.

You can also make a figure of them out of something like clay, cardboard, or another material.

You can build them out of Legos!

You can also create a hand or finger puppet of them.

Draw a comic featuring your characters!

Create an animation of your character.

Draw your characters as animals!

Create pixel art of your OC! Maybe even make it look like video game sprites.

Draw your characters as playing card designs.

Draw your characters as tarot card designs (Suggested by @ultragirl-parsley)

Create a coloring book full of your OCs!

Create a large cardboard cutout of your character. There are tons of tutorials online!

Put your OCs as designs on cookies, cakes, etc. (I kinda want to do this one but I know it won't turn out well for me 'cuz I suck at handling food T_T)

Design your OC's home.

Make a board game about your OCs and their story

Make Minecraft skins of your characters

INTERNET

Make your OCs in picrew or other dress-up things!

Create a character playlist on Spotify or other music site!

Create a Pinterest board with inspo for your OCs! Maybe outfits they’d wear, a moodboard, etc.

Reblog those “tag your OC as” blogs! They usually have a prompt and you can reblog it and tag which OC it describes. Here’s a few blogs which do this: Tag Your OC on Tumblr develop your oc on Tumblr Daily Asks for your OC (tumblr.com)

Take quizzes as your OC! You can find some on Quotev or IDRLabs.

Make a roleplay account as your OC.

Create a quiz on Quotev about your OC. Maybe something like, "Would my OC like you," "How similar are you to my OC," etc.

Put your OCs in the incorrect quote generator.

Find OC questionnaires and templates online.

Create a page on your Tumblr just for your OC! You can include things like a character sheet, general facts, your posts about them, etc.

WRITING

Do character exercises for them! You can find a lot of these on the internet, but here’s an example.

Write from your OC's perspective. It'll help you understand them better!

Create a list of media they enjoy. Maybe movies, video games, songs, etc.

Write a song (or just lyrics) about your OC or parts of their story.

Write a random story about their childhood!

Create an in-universe news report from your OC's world.

Write a poem about your OC.

OTHER

Put your OCs in character alignment memes! Here’s some from a search on Pinterest.

Create voice headcanons for your OCs. Here’s an example of Vivziepop’s for Hazbin Hotel..

Play as your character in video games! Like, maybe design your character in Miitopia or Sims.

Do some theatre improv games as if you were your OC.

Edit your OC on to pride flags.

Also, you could maybe make those like, Tiktok edits of your OC? (Y'know the ones I'm talking about?)

Create an AU version of your characters! (I’ll create a list of AU ideas soon! :D)

Have your characters solve the trolley problem and other moral conudruums.

Cosplay as your OC!

Create ship names for your characters!

You can also find baby names that your OC might like or something.

Create a visual novel/dating sim in Google Slides (or if you can code, you can do it like that!)

Create a crossword/word search relating to your characters and story.

Answer "Would you rather?"questions as your character.

Find poems that remind you of your OC.

Make family trees.

If anyone has anymore ideas, please tell me and I’ll add them to the list!!

#oc #original character #list #oc creator #oc artist #original character artist #original character creator #oc challenge #ocs #masterlist #things to do #artists on tumblr #writers on tumblr

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I start giving some very *very* Christian family members religious pamphlets from non-Christian religions as gifts?

To be clear, I am writing this while firmly believing I'm NTA but I am angry and don't trust my own judgment too much right now.

Background and Players: My Son (19) was adopted out as a baby by his incubator behind (my husband, 40) his father's back. He was abandoned at 4 by his adopted family because of behavioral issues related to what his incubator was putting into her body while she was pregnant with him, and went into foster care with people I will call Amom and Adad. Adad is a pastor in his 90s and Amom is a pastor's wife in her 80s. When Son was 13 and I had been with Husband for 5ish years, we had been told (by someone from his incubator's family but we didn't know that at the time) he was non-verbal and "mentally an infant" and that trying to pull him out of the routine he had would just be incredibly harmful to him, so we had given up hope of finding him and having a relationship with him. We got a phone call one day, a worker who was looking for a medical history for Son. Husband spent close to 3 hours on the phone with her, answering questions and asking anything he could squeeze in. Turns out, we had been lied to about his mental health just... completely. He's impossible to shut up and he graduated high school last year despite, you know, *gestures vaguely at everything* and I am incredibly proud of him. Half an hour after that call ended, she called back and told us Son might be interested in meeting us, was it okay for her to pass on our contact info. A month later, Son, Amom, Adad, Husband and I were sitting in a restaurant together and a month after that we went to their place for a week to spend Christmas with them. This is when they informed us that they had finalized his legal adoption a couple of weeks earlier. 2 years after that, my QPP moved in with us, and another year later 16 year old Son asked if he could move in with us. He still does.

The Issue: Son wants a continuing relationship with Amom and Adad, but due to the previously mentioned substances used by his incubator, he has memory and time management issues so I have to regularly remind him to contact them. I have no problem doing this, but the contact we have had with them over the last few years has soured me on their company. I've got no problem reminding Son to contact them and organizing rides for him to visit (usually QPP and I driving him, the trip is a couple of hours each way) but I'd rather never speak to them myself if it can be avoided. It didn't start out this way, but over the years they have made it very clear that they don't respect anyone else's beliefs. Not just us, like there was one night where they were going off about some Danish surgeon saying publicly that he was Muslim first, Danish second, and they were trying to convince us to be terrified by that. The conversation ended awkwardly when Husband asked if Adad was Nationality or Christian first (because that's different you see). We have found books on the bookshelves in the guest room about how any kind of queerness at all is demonic possession, one of which they wrote. They talk about things like being sent on a mission by their god to save as many (and I hate that these are quotes) "brown heathen children" by making them Christians as possible (Son and his adopted siblings are all First Nations, Amom and Adad are as white as I am), or how Jewish people are evil for stopping Christians from claiming their suffering because "Jesus was a Jew so aren't all Christians also Jews?". Amom once spent a week trying to convince me to go to church with her and share the details of my childhood sexual abuse with the entire congregation because "it will show God you are ready to be forgiven". QPP is a shintoist and after they found that out, we started seeing more literature about the Japanese, specifically during WWII, around their house when we visited.

We have politely made it clear that we are not interested in Christianity, especially not their version. Multiple times. We thought it was finally over after Son had a meltdown at them at his graduation ceremony because he wanted JUST ONE conversation with them that wasn't about Jesus. He was in tears trying to explain that to them, and their response was to tell him he needed to come back to church so they could lay on hands and chase all the demons making him say these horrible disrespectful things to them out of him. He was supposed to stay with them for a few days to visit after that, but by the time I tracked him down and got him calm, he didn't want to go anymore. They seemed to stop after that, like they actually backed off and I think I got maybe 2 emails that didn't mention God or Jesus, not even a "God bless" in the sign off. We were optimistic. Son was late organizing it but we dropped him off (at his request, he's worried that Adad won't make it to next Christmas and wanted to see him) at their place on Boxing Day. We did not hang around, we did not send gifts, we didn't even reply to the Family Christmas Email (it had a video of a Jordan B Peterson rant embedded in it and I've told them before that we are not interested in anything that sack of hateful arrogance has to say please stop putting him in my inbox). We have done everything we can to make it clear that we do not want a relationship with them for ourselves, including outright directly telling them politely to their faces that we will not stop Son from seeing them but we don't feel comfortable around them and don't want a relationship with them for ourselves. Son came back with "gifts" from them - a study guide for a specific Bible book (I got John, Husband got Michael, QPP set his on fire before we saw who it was) and a bag of candy that looked like it came out of a thrift store (I got the same one they always get me, which I laughed off the first and second and third time and explained I couldn't stand them because my abuser used to give me one when he was done. Husband is diabetic and got York Patties. QPP actually got something decent though, $20 for gas).

I have managed to keep my "I'd rather you hadn't bothered actually" rantingvto Tumblr, which i don't think they even know exists, but I'm still pissed about the Bible crap as "gifts". I am considering changing tactics completely and being super friendly, mirroring their energy, and giving them the same treatment they've given us. I want to make excuses to visit so I can explain the finer points of shintoism and Celtic paganism in every single conversation. I want to give them books for gifts, books like The Tao of Pooh and The Gospel of The Flying Spaghetti Monster. I want to wrap cash in pamphlets about The Invisible Pink Unicorn and leave it on their fridge.

QPP and husband think I should give myself more time to calm down and just keep ignoring it and playing nice when I'm forced to play at all but like, IT'S BEEN 6 YEARS.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

my mum bought me my first neil gaiman book, maggots!!

So, I don't know if you'd call it a book like a story, rather, it's a series of essays by Neil that were illustrated by Chris Riddell. My mum listened to the story of how I was kidnapped adopted by the Good Omens fandom. She was very confused, but since I'm an author and artist, she bought me the book, Art Matters.

And I've been seeing so much beautiful fanart and edits and fanfiction from this fandom, I swear to God or Someone, and it's all reminding me what a wonderful thing fandom is. And art is.

I read the book, and it was amazing, and here's a few quotes from it that I think the ridiculously talented people who created the book and the show as well as every fan who has made this creation grow should hear.

"And remember that whatever discipline you are in, whether you are a musician or a photographer, a fine artist or a cartoonist, a writer, a dancer, a designer, whatever you do, you have one thing that's unique. You have the ability to make art. And for me, and for so many of the people I have known, that's been a lifesaver. The ultimate lifesaver."

"...while you're at it, make your art. Do that stuff that only you can do. ...the one thing that you have that nobody else has is you. Your voice, your mind, your story, your vision. So write and draw and build and play and dance and live as only you can."

"And where would be the fun is doing something you knew was going to work?"

Well, you heard him, maggots. Go on creating. You are all so, so important. I came to tumblr because I was lonely and I wanted a friend.

I found a family, instead. In this very strange fandom that kidnapped adopted me. I love you all, and I'm glad to cry with you. I haven't even got to season 2 yet.

Side note...

Welcome, @neil-gaiman, join the maggots in watching me sob over Aziraphale and Crowley. It really is very quiet, gentle and romantic out here.

#good omens mascot #maggots #neil gaiman #asmi #good omens fandom #weirdly specific but ok #why fandom matters #i love you all #understood? you are loved. #aziraphale #crowley #art #quotes about art #art matters #neil gaiman books #fandom #fanfic #fanart #writing #fanfic writing #authors #writers of tumblr #artists of tumblr #just all of you #i need you to know #HOW IMPORTANT YOU ARE #lgbtqia #good omens

[makethatelevenrings]

Just Friends? // J. Todd x f!reader

Requested? yes!

WARNINGS: none

Summary: Jason panicked and told Dick he was dating someone. Now he’s being forced to bring them to family dinner so he turns to his best friend, you, for help.

“You want me to…what?”

The couch dipped beside you and a heavy arm draped across the back. You nudged Jason with your elbow as he crowded up against you and he retaliated by swiping your book out of your hand. Since he didn’t particularly feel like dying again that day, he made sure to slide a bookmark between the pages before he shut it and tossed it onto his coffee table.

“I need you to be my date. To Sunday night dinner.” He said it so simply that you had half the mind to start concussion protocol in case he had landed helmet-first sometime during last night’s patrol. You raised an inquisitive eyebrow and he grinned.

“And this is in relation to…?”

“Dick was trying to set me up with this guy he met at a coffee shop and knowing Dick’s taste in people, I panicked and said I was already dating someone and he insisted that I bring them to meet the family. Because anyone who would date me, and I quote, is a godsend and/or in need of some serious help.”

You hummed and poked his cheek. “What if I’m both?”

“See? You’re perfect.”

You adjusted your seating on the couch so you could face him, one leg tucked under you and the other hanging off the edge of his worn couch. His large hand came down to rest on your thigh and he drew circles against your skin before squeezing gently. You slid one hand to the nape of his neck and played with his hair.

“How on earth are we going to convince your family, the greatest detectives in the world, that we’re a couple?”

You found yourself at Wayne Manor on Sunday with one very antsy vigilante. He kept asking if you remembered the story the two of you had generated and you were very close to throttling him. Two years of friendship and he still didn’t trust your ability to make shit up on the fly.

The heavy oak door swung open, revealing a short kid. He appraised you with a disinterested expression and then delicately sniffed.

“Todd, I see you have brought your lady friend for once.”

“Nice to see you too, Demon Spawn.” Jason ruffled his hair as he passed and the kid swatted his hand, a murderous glare flitting across his face.

“You must be Damian.” You held out your hand and he regarded it coolly before shaking it. “Jay told me you like animals. Remind me later and I’ll show you pictures of my cats.”

Damian’s eyes narrowed for a moment before he nodded and stepped aside. “That is agreeable. Perhaps I can introduce you to Alfred as well.”

You mouthed something akin to isn’t that the butler? to Jason and he snickered as he sidled up to you and slid his hand along your waist. “Butler AND cat. Damian was inspired when he named him.”

“Hmmm, that’s cute. So, one sibling down. How many more to go?”

“Too many.” He leaned down to brush a kiss across your brow. “Thank you.”

“Anytime, bird boy.”

Dinner went off without a hitch. Dick declared his love for you the second he met you, Tim was hesitant at first and fully assumed you were actually a mercenary hired by Jason to try and kill him again, Steph gleefully regaled you with stories of Jason slipping and falling off of roofs during patrol, and Cass had laughed when Jason had tried to steal some of Alfred’s famous mashed potatoes off of your plate and you proceeded to launch a fork at him.

Bruce, as expected, just sat quietly.

“Oh, miss, don’t worry about the plates,” Alfred exclaimed when you started stacking up Jason’s dirty dishes onto yours. “I have it handled.”

“Are you sure? It’s really no big deal.”

“Quite alright, miss. It is my job after all.”

You smiled at the kindly butler. “Jason speaks very highly of you. Thank you for always being there for him.”

“Of course, miss. Master Todd has always been a great joy in my life.” You could see the unspoken sorrow that lingered there too and you briefly thought of the jagged, y-shaped scar that spanned the length of his torso. Jason slid his hand in yours and tugged you into another room.

“Movie night,” he explained. “National Treasure, of course.”

“A classic.” He maneuvered you to fall back onto the couch, leaving a space for him between you and Dick. “Ah, shit, let me go get you a blanket.”

“So, how long have you two been dating?” Dick asked when Jason disappeared.

“I’ve known him for two years but we’ve been dating for three months.” It was the agreed upon date you two had come up with last night when you laid on the couch together, a mess of tangled limbs. “He’s my best friend.”

“He better not be trying to replace me.” Dick pouted but Damian tossed a pillow at his head and let out another scoff. The youngest Robin had Alfred the cat in his lap and stroked the cat’s fur like some kind of evil villain in his lair.

“Don’t worry, Dickiebird. No one can replace you,” Jason drawled as he returned with a blanket. He draped it over your lap and then took a seat next to you. “Good?”

“Yeah, thanks Jase.” You knew you wouldn’t last through the movie. In fact, you probably fell asleep twenty minutes in. Your head fell against Jason’s shoulder and he carefully adjusted the blanket to cover your shoulders before running a hand over your hair.

“If you haven’t already,” Bruce said from behind him. “You should tell her you love her.”

Of course, Jason groused. Nothing got past Batman.

#jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood imagine #red hood x reader #red hood #dc imagine #mine

[notroosterbradshaw]

Uncle Brooster

A family party to celebrate Viper’s birthday brings the fluffiest of fluff with a side of 18+ NSFW slow smut for Rooster and our reader. 8.5k words.

part of: The Boyfriend Experience universe

Thank you @imjess-themess​ and @callsign-phoenix​​ for beta’ing - I truly appreciate it! Was hard to do this re-write justice, so hopefully, you enjoy it. Please let me know what you think. Reblogs and comments are highly encouraged and give me life xx

You had been stuck in traffic for at least four hours to this point. You’d left LA a little later than you should have with a hangover a little worse than it should have been, the city made you pay more than deserved. Travelling on a Saturday was a dicey decision at best and you tapped the steering wheel with the beat of a song you’d heard at least three times on different stations. Silence it is, with the occasional beeping from other aggravated drivers in the same predicament. 

It was well after mid-afternoon when you arrived at your grandparents but broke into a small grin when you saw that all too familiar blue Bronco parked a few houses down. He didn’t have to arrive without you, but he did, and it warmed your heart that Rooster felt comfortable enough to go to your family’s events stag even when you were running terribly late. Grabbing the champagne you’d picked up a few blocks earlier because even when it’s family, it’s still rude to turn up empty-handed, you popped out of the car as your nephew, Oscar, zoomed past you on his scooter.

“Don’t let Daddy catch me!” he exclaimed as Arron, your brother-in-law, raced around the side of the house after him. He smiled a friendly hello, roaring after Oscar. Ducking back towards the car to avoid becoming roadkill, you waited, protecting the chilled French beverages in each hand. Priorities on point always.

Wandering into the house, you were greeted by Nana with hugs and smiles. If you were anything like her, with her vivacity at 90, life would be good, you realised. “We didn’t think you’d get here. Bradley said you were stuck in traffic. Why did you go to LA?” she demanded.

“I had a birthday party for an old college friend. I probably should have driven back last night. At least I wouldn’t have been so late...” you grumbled, and would be in less of a puss after hours of containing your road rage. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. You’re here now. Why didn’t Bradley go with you?” she frowned.

“To quote him, ‘I’ll die before I go to a club in LA’. ‘Please don’t make me go to a club in LA’. ‘I will do anything to get out of going to a club in LA’. So, he knocked out a wall in the bathroom instead. He said it was cathartic,” you shrugged. “Dude loves demolishing stuff, Nana. What can I say?”

“Could have been a nice getaway for you both,” she tried.

“You know he’s happy at home,” you reminded her. “That kinda scene is not for him.”

“Maybe you could learn something from him.”

“Probably, Nana,” you bit back your smile.

“There’s plenty of food outside. Go say happy birthday to your grandpa,” she ushered you out but not before she stopped you again, helping you smooth a crease on your sundress. “Can't half tell you’ve been in the car for hours,” she huffed. “This is beautiful, you look divine.”

It was Rooster’s favourite sundress and you figured the least you could do today and wear something easy on his eyes. It made you feel pretty sexy, knowing he liked it so much and only got brought out once before for a dinner date in your early dating days when he fell in love with it.

“Where’s Grandpa?”

She threw her hands in the air. “Holding court, where else?”

Holding court, with his friends and re-telling old war stories no less. Heading outside, you didn’t immediately spot Rooster but found Grandpa and made your way through your family and his lifelong co-workers and friends, stopping and being stopped as your past people before politely interrupting Grandpa to wish him a Happy Birthday.

“Here’s trouble,” Viper smiled, you were the apple of his eye. His darling granddaughter. 

“Happy birthday, sorry I’m late,” you apologised. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured you. “Rooster is here,” he clicked his tongue. 

“Grandpa, one day you’ll have to accept he’s my partner,” you said gently, putting a hand over his heart. Viper sighed, patting your hand.

“I know, but not today,” the old man smiled wickedly. “I like keeping him on his toes.”

“I know,” you rolled your eyes as he chuckled, pushing you away tenderly to continue his story. Hearing ‘Vietnam’ and ‘Mitchell’ as you wandered through the masses of guests, someone gently checked you with their hip as you passed and Rooster grinned at you… holding your six-month-old niece, Ava, in his strong arms tenderly.

Well, this was a new development.

“Hi,” he said quietly, lowering to kiss you gently, you cupped his cheek. “I missed you, sweet girl.” 

Shocked, you nodded at Ava. “Me too. I’m so sorry I’m late,” you said, extremely distracted by the sight before you. Rooster chewed his bottom lip, incredibly pleased with himself – he enjoyed rendering you speechless. It didn’t happen easily and it certainly didn’t happen often. “Stealing hearts and infants now?” you teased as he nodded, letting his grin rip wide across his tanned features, you know those warm honey-coloured eyes were dancing behind his mirrored aviators.

“Looks like it.”

“Are you okay? Do you need me to take her?” Something to distract me from looking at you with a baby, perhaps? He shook his head as Ava held his long, slender index finger in her soft hand and he watched her keenly, a little taken with her himself. She was a true beauty. Annie had told him Ava was your dead ringer as a baby, and he could almost believe it.

“I’m good,” he promised. “I’d love a beer though.”

“I think I can do that,” you told him as he smiled and turned his attention back to Ava, cooing in his deep rasp that almost made you want to cry.

Heading to the cooler, you greeted some of Grandpa’s former Top Gun students and Rooster’s superiors as you grabbed Rooster a beer and picked up the champagne bottle for yourself as Annie sidled over to you to say hello.

“Didn’t think you were ever gonna get here. How are those ovaries?” she smiled, nodding over her shoulder to Rooster who was still gently rocking a dozing Ava in his arms. “Give that man a baby, and give that man a baby now.”

“Oh, my God,” you sighed. “Make yourself useful,” you shoved Rooster’s beer and a champagne flute into her hands, popping the bottle and pouring yourself a generous glassful. “You want?”

“No, Ava will need to be fed shortly,” she replied as you took the drinks back.

“Was this your ploy?” you asked, looking back at Rooster.

Christ, was his chest broader today? Was it arms day? He did mention he went for a run on the phone earlier. He usually broke it up and used some of the free equipment near the beach if he felt particularly energetic. He looked so good. You mean, he always did. Sunglasses now in his sun-kissed curls, casual in a crisp white linen shirt untucked over a pair of khaki shorts and barefoot in the plush grass. He was not remotely interested in fashion, but just one of those people with that body that everything fit him perfectly. You groaned that you had to wait to love on him properly, without the gaze of your family and his higher-ups even if it wasn’t a workday. You were already imagining stripping him of that beautifully offensive shirt -  

“What, to see Rooster with a baby?” she joked as you gave her your attention again. Fantasizing about Bradley Bradshaw would not bode well for you at a family birthday party. Nope. You could be patient. You waited this long for him, what was another few hours? “No, I had to help Mom in the kitchen since you decided to show your face at the last minute, and he was the closest, reasonably responsible adult in the vicinity to hand her to.”

“And where was your husband during all this?” you asked, sipping your champagne.

She pointed to Arron and Oscar on the trampoline.

“I see.”

“Yeah,” she said, unamused. “I have three kids at home.”

“Hey, he’s your kid’s best friend,” you reminded her. “And that’s fucking priceless. We can’t say the same thing with our old man. Enjoy it now because one day, Oscar will be just like you and it should be terrifying for all of us to go through your teenage years again.”

Reminiscing her wild adolescent days momentarily, Annie shuddered. “If that kid is half the asshole I was, I don’t know how I’ll cope,” she laughed incredulously.

“How did Rooster react with Ava?”

Annie cackled. “Unfortunately, no ejector seats nearby for Rooster. Looked like I’d asked him to punch Grandpa.”

“Yikes,” you laughed, loudly.

“I showed him how to not drop her, but he figured it out pretty quick.”

“You just dumped her in his arms, didn’t you?”

“Threw him completely in the deep end,” she confirmed, still laughing. “He’s had her for nearly an hour though and I’ve offered numerous times to take her. He even knocked Mom back.”

“Oh, wow.”

“It’s been nice to eat and talk for once instead of being the Mom.”

“You are the Mom,” you reminded her, lightly kicking her shin. “But I know you’re so much more than that too.”

She flashed a shy smile. “Thank you.”

As nice as the familial love was, Rooster still had your undivided attention. You sipped the cool amber gold and felt yourself melt. “He looks so good,” you said to her quietly.

“We can talk about this, if you want,” Annie joked, not missing the longing in your voice. “He looks very good. A bit of a natural, to be honest. You have the dreamiest look on your face,” she teased.

“You can see what I’m looking at, right?”

“Yeah, I can see,” she poked your arm. “Your old bedroom is just up there, I’m sure Rooster would love to see where you spent your formative years.”

“Rooster didn’t see me like that when we were teenagers.”

“No, I suppose not. But if you asked him to go up there with you with all these people here, I guarantee you, he would be dragging you up there.”

“I don’t think I need to christen Grandma’s favourite duvet today with his superiors here…”

“Bullshit,” she sang. Sadly, Annie was very good at planting very bad ideas in your head, and the little bunny bounced around freely. “If I know Rooster, the thought of getting away with something like that would be very, very appealing to him.”

“I watched him do 164 push-ups without stopping the other day,” you changed the subject.

“Why would he do that?”

You rolled your eyes. “For the sake of it. ‘Peak physical perfection’ was what he told me. He was gloating, I might add.”

"I’d believe it,” Annie shrugged. 

“He’s got an endurance like I’ve never seen,” you sipped your champagne to cure your dry throat.

“You’ve heard it your whole life. They’re the ‘1 per cent’,” she said in air quotes.

“Just ask them,” you said. “I miss him, I’m going to rescue him,” you decided with a hum of satisfaction but wouldn’t give Annie the pleasure of knowing just how true the ‘1 per cent’ really was. 

“I’ll come to get her soon but enjoy it for now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” you rolled your eyes with a grin that told her you’d do just that and wandered back to him. Gently caressing his side, you offered him the bottle, keen to see his next move. Pouting in thought, he adjusted his posture around Ava’s snug little body and grinned as he released a jazz hand, admitting success.

“Thank you, baby,” he took an eager gulp.

“Do you want me to hold her?” you asked as he shook his head.

He shook his head. “Naw, I got it,” he replied, swaying on the balls of his feet to subdue Ava like he’d been doing it his whole life. “I’ve held footballs bigger than this little love.”

Little love? Your ice-cold heart-melting at his endearments, you managed, “You look very comfortable, Bradshaw.”

He flushed a little. “What, you think I could do this?” he smiled shyly.

“I think you’d be a beautiful father,” you divulged. “Not that I… think of that.”

He giggled quietly. “Of course not.”

It was kind of true though – you enjoyed this incredibly selfish phase you were in with Rooster. You rarely left the house when he was home. Just the two of you in your own bubble. You didn’t have to be together, he could be found with a sledgehammer, knocking down walls or strumming a guitar in his makeshift music room, and you could be reading or lesson planning. You were just content to be together, doing your own thing.

“I think of that,” he shrugged easily. “I mean, not right now. But eventually. I want to have some kids.”

Of course you do, you sighed to yourself, sipping your drink. You felt an unfamiliar fluttering in your tummy. You just assumed it was your biological clock introducing itself violently. Fuck, unfair.

“You… don’t?” he raised an eyebrow, a little surprised.

“I dunno…” you admitted. “I hadn’t really thought about it. I guess so, I’m not getting any younger.”

The lopsided grin on his face told you he was satisfied with your answer and the taunting could stop… for now. “We could do this one day,” he shrugged.

You were gone for 12 hours, and it had been pure torture. He went for a few drinks with his squad and could not keep interested if he tried (much to the humour of Hangman’s taunts of him being so pussy-whipped that he forgot how to have fun – Rooster agreed. He’d much rather be getting laid every night with a woman as sexy and eager as you than have to look like a desperate asshole like he did… Hangman quit his schtick pretty quick). He’d forgotten how to sleep alone, not curled around you (and you’d called at least a dozen times in a drunken stupor wishing he was there, wishing you were home, wishing you were fucking each other instead going back to the hotel without him. It was hilarious, and in Rooster’s mind, heart-warming you were missing him as much as he was missing you).

“You okay?” you frowned, he’d drifted off a minute.

Blinking as he came to, he nodded. “Thinking about your endless calls last night,” he recovered with a smug grin that you rolled your eyes at.

“You’re such a dick.”

He gasped, pretending to cover Ava’s little ears. “Not around the children!”

“Said the naval aviator.”

“We are all upstanding, respectable members of the US military, ma’am,” he recited.

“Are you shittin’ me right now?” you looked around and could only insinuate the backyard was an absolute pissing contest, testosterone was choking the place. How Phoenix and Halo put up with the shit from these guys only spoke volumes of their strength and resilience.

Rooster let out a hearty laugh. “Okay, okay. But we’re not all a bunch of dickbags,” he protested to Ava. “Are we?” he frowned, suddenly a little concerned.

Pettily, you replied and started counting on your fingers, “Bob,” you paused and frowned. “Just sweet Bob.”

“Sweet Bob?” Rooster hooted. “You must be outta your mind because that guy is as wicked as the rest of us. You’re just confused by the glasses, aloofness – ”

“Aloofness,” you mocked.

“He ain’t reserved, he ain’t shy. He plays the game better than all of us combined. Baby, that motherfucker is foolin’ you,” he said, seriously. “If you think for one second he isn’t sewing his seed in whatever port we’re in, Jesus, baby, you’ve fallen for it too.”

You groaned, now Rooster was just reaching.

“Trust me, Bob is single for a reason.”

“Nope, refuse to believe it,” you turned away from him as he grabbed your wrist and whispered by far the crudest thing you’d heard of all the antics from any of Rooster’s friends. Rooster smiled as he watched your facade change as he went into some very explicit details.

“Oh, my word.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t know this,” he giggled again, kissing your temple. “My innocent little baby.”

“Yeah, definitely something Natasha and I should have talked about.”

“She has her own shame,” he kept paying out.

You looked at each other and said in unison, “Bagman.”

“Well, you’ve broken my heart, Roost. I’ll never be able to look at that sly bastard the same again,” it kind of crushed you. Not-so-sweet Bob. You were more than intrigued though and would ask Rooster again sometime. He wasn’t entirely forthcoming about his friends (or his) antics when they were abroad. There was a code they quietly shared and you probably didn’t want to know.

“Don’t get me wrong, when he’s on form, he’s amazing – we all took notes. It’s not a front, but what you don’t see, babydoll, would make your head spin. Credit where it’s due, he will not behave like the wild man he is around the ladies. He’s very respectful of Phoenix, Halo, and you,” he gently cupped your chin and chuckled. “Lucky for you that you have such an honourable, roguishly handsome, intelligent, Adonis as me, huh?”

“I’m supposed to pay you those compliments.”

“On you for forgetting I have an ego,” he replied thoughtfully.

“Ooh, you are on one this afternoon,” you murmured.

He smiled, slugging his beer. He leaned down to kiss you deeply, no mind to anyone in your vicinity. “I love you and you know I’m settled. You’re the only woman that turns my head.”

“Keep talking,” you instructed.

He nodded you closer and he freed a hand to tuck you into his arms, trying not to squish Ava. “I am so in love with you, I don’t care if anyone thinks I’m whipped. Because I am. You’re the love of my life and those arseholes can fuck around all they like. You are the only woman I want. Who I fantasize to, first and last thing on my mind every day even when you’re next to me, who gets me over the line when I’m away. I am so infatuated with you.”

“Better,” you blustered as he kissed you again, a little softer this time.

“I love you,” he said against your lips. You whispered the same back as you snuggled into him, lightly tracing the soft skin on Ava’s little hand. Your sister sure made adorable babies. Casting his gaze over you, he sighed wistfully. “You look beautiful, by the way.”

“Oh, this was completely purposeful,” you smiled as he cursed quietly. You moved across the space between you to hold him as inconspicuous as you could with his superiors, and of course, Viper, lurking. He leaned down to kiss you again. “With that blue lingerie you like.”

You knew Rooster thoroughly enjoyed being teased and that was solely what the dress was. You motioned him closer again and he bent to hear right into his ear, a glutton for punishment. “What?” his tone guttural.

“Free reign. You can do whatever you want to me,” you gently kissed his jaw before he stood to his full height again, exhaling deeply, a look of disdain (or discomfort) crossing his features. “I’m very looking forward to getting you alone tonight,” you said kindly.

“That dress comes off the second we cross the threshold,” he hissed at you. “So goddamn sexy.”

“Watch yourself, Bradshaw,” Grandpa stalked past as you both gave each other wide berths.

“Yessir,” he replied, meekly, hoping the old man’s hearing was going and he didn’t hear him talk so disrespectfully. His shoulders slumped as, thank God, Viper didn’t stop to reprimand him. “One day, he’s gonna love me,” he muttered, hardly self-assured. Sure, Rooster was in on the joke, but he couldn’t wait for the day Viper was his mentor again… and didn’t only see him as the guy fucking his granddaughter. 

“Not today, he’s not,” you snickered, sipping your champagne and swishing the skirt of your dress a little, loving the movement of it – Rooster had very good reason to find this his favourite. Your silhouette in it drove him to a level of wild he’d never imagined.

“You are a fuckin’ menace.”

“I am, I agree but you wouldn’t change a damn thing.”

Of course, he wouldn’t. He lived for you smart mouth. “Jury’s still out on current behaviour,” he mumbled, giving you a playful side-eye as Ava started to whinge. Panic crossed Rooster’s face, with the little one peaceful to now.

You smiled. “It’s okay, she’s probably just hot. Stop cradling her like a football and see if she’s comfier down your chest,” you offered, you mimed what you meant. He was a little spooked the ease of just holding the infant got a little harder. Watching his struggle was a sight, but you wouldn’t tease him, he was by far trying his best. “Can I help?”

“Yes, please!” he squeaked.

“Come here,” you rested your glass on a nearby table and opened your arms, happily taking Ava from him. Rooster knew his strength, and it certainly wasn’t a lot to hold Ava, but he was not used to the posture of it all and shook his strong arms out willingly.

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She looks much happier now.”

“She’s probably hungry too. You did great,” you told him, rocking gently, hoping to calm her again.

While you focused on Ava, cooing and whispering sweet words, Rooster sipped his beer, watching you intently. You were so beautiful, but holding your niece was stirring up some shit in his already-convoluted brain. He’d been thinking about a lot of things lately. His career was on the rise, he’d officially transferred and moved into his parents' old beach house, leaving Virginia behind. When he was home, you spent every night together; where there was one, the other wasn’t usually far, and everyone could see how happy you were together. He could see it too. He had changed, he had mellowed and he wasn’t remotely miserable about it.

He loved making a life with you.

It was all moving in one direction and while he was excited for it all with you, he could admit it was scary because he’d resolved himself probably not having kids and probably not getting married after his mother raised him without Goose and how it affected her every day. Leaving nothing behind always seemed like the easier option if things...

But now the thought of his last name being passed along didn’t seem so farfetched. The notion kind of enthralled him, and he found himself thinking about it – thinking about Carole’s engagement ring hidden in the safe he’d recently purchased with his will, Goose’s dog tags, passport and that kind of stuff with some various items of yours also. You just wanted your passport somewhere you’d remember it as well as some legal docs.

“Uncle Brooster!” you heard Oscar before you saw him.

“Uncle Brooster?” you frowned.

“I may or may not have picked up a new nickname today that has stuck pretty quick,” Rooster explained, blushing a little. “Oscar started to say Uncle Bradley, but I guess, also Rooster?” he shrugged with a faint grin. Uncle Brooster didn’t seem to hate it, you realised as Oscar ran at him, Rooster catching him in his arms, sitting your nephew on his hip.

“You said you'd play!” he accused, thrusting his new mitt on Rooster’s face.

“Hi, Oscar,” you smiled.

“Uncle Brooster said he’d play when you got here,” he whined.

“Missed you too, bud,” you replied curtly.

“All right, pal,” Rooster nodded. “I promised,” he held his hand out for the ball, putting Oscar back on the grass, as he winked at you and lowered his sunnies over his eyes again. “Duty calls.”

“Is this where you tell me you coulda made it in the pros if the skies didn’t call to you again?” you asked innocently enough. You’d heard that story so many times over the years. Rooster loved baseball. An unhealthy amount. If the Phillies (you had no idea why because he had no connection to the city in any way) were playing, he'd lose a day yelling and cheering at the TV. You dreaded the thought when football season started.

“I could have,” he sighed. “I was scouted.”

“By Uncle Sam?” you teased.

“Oscar, lemme show you that pitch, buddy,” he rolled his eyes at you, wandering away after him. “Your Aunty is a real meanie.”

“Yeah, but if you ask her real nice, she will always let you get ice cream, even when Mommy won’t,” Oscar replied as you giggled. Rooster might have been King of the Kids today, but Oscar still knew where his bread was buttered.

“Yeah, you’ll always be ‘Bad Influence Aunty’,” Annie smiled, sidling up to you and offering her hands to Ava. You shook your head, enjoying the cuddles.

“I’m not a bad influence, I just say yes to everything you say no to when I’m sitting,” you grinned, as she motioned you over to the big tree you’d sit under as kids and play endlessly. The sun was starting to get to you anyway and you sat down on the cool grass with Ava eagerly.

“How’d Rooster go?”

“Said he could see us having babies one day,” you blurted out.

She smiled. “That’s exciting!”

You shrugged. “I like that it’s just us at the moment. He’s away so much that I don’t want to share him,” you played with Ava’s little toes. “Is that wrong?”

She sighed. “That’s really a conversation you need to have with him. Because I know you two will be amazing parents, but if you don’t want to do it, you have to make sure you’re on the same page. It could be a dealbreaker if you both feel strongly about it.”

It felt like a boob punch, but Annie was right. Argh, you hated talking. Even to Rooster who, in reality, he was the easiest person to approach. He’d talk to you about anything, even before you two got together. It wasn’t that he was a few years older, because his maturity was not his always strong suit but had an opinion on everything and he listened well. He wasn’t scared to give you other perspectives on matters or pander to you if he knew you really needed it.

Fuck, he really was breathtaking, you watched him pass under arm to Oscar who missed it but Rooster kept encouraging.

Knowing you were trying not to get too upset, Annie added, “But you two want to have as much time together is wonderful. Things have a habit of falling into place like this sometimes. It’s still fairly new to both of you. You haven’t been a couple for a super long time, you don’t live together – ”

“He wants to, he’s said it a few times now,” you admitted as Ava started whinging and you attempted to appease her.

“What are you waiting for?” Annie asked.

“Every day he’s away, I dread the knock at the door – ”

“Don’t be like that. Rooster is very good at what he does, he will always come back to you.”

“His dad didn’t.”

“And our dad left on his own volition. Real life happens.”

You nodded, solemnly. “I know.”

“You have to open yourself to that man loving you. Because he does. So much so and he’s not afraid to tell anyone but if you keep him at arm’s length, he won’t have to fight for you because there is a queue of women who would kill to be in your shoes. He will be the love of your life, it’s just up to you to accept that.”

Oof, Annie always had a brutal way to deliver her message but you knew she was right.

Ava refused to calm in your arms and Annie held her arms out, preparing herself to feed her daughter. You gave Annie a moment and palmed Ava over, giving your attention to Rooster, baseball forgotten and jumping on the trampoline with Oscar, having the fucking time of his life. “You are gonna regret that, babe,” you said quietly. 30-year-olds were not made for trampolines, no matter how many hours you’d spent on one as a child. You’d fallen for it many times. The aching muscles the following days were never worth it. 

Oscar showed Rooster a small tumble, close to the mat. Not surprisingly, he congratulated your nephew and asked him to step back, bouncing way too high for the small trampoline and flipping himself in the air, giggling like mad. 

“Good chance Oscar will be suffering a broken arm or leg sometime soon with Rooster’s influence. He will be double-bounced at some point today,” you told Annie as she sighed and nodded. 

Sitting outside as the guests had started to leave, you relaxed back against Rooster’s chest, sitting between his legs as he rested his chin against your shoulder, kissing and nuzzling occasionally. It had cooled off a little, the evening breeze coming in off the water and Rooster’s body heat kept you snuggly warm. He always seemed to burn just a little warmer than most.

“Goodnight, Rooster. I expect I’ll see you you on the tarmac at 0600,” Cyclone said above you and you felt Rooster straighten up. “At ease, Bradshaw,” Cyclone instructed, casually.

“Yessir,” Rooster replied, hating being caught unawares. “0600, sir.”

“Goodnight,” Cyclone said to you. “Hope to see you again soon.”

“Goodnight,” you said after him. “I think that’s the last of them,” you reported quietly as Rooster sighed.

“Not one day of peace,” he muttered.

“You knew what you were getting into with my family.”

“I know,” he said against your skin.

“It’s a lot, isn’t it?”

“It’s a lot,” he agreed. “Wouldn’t change it for anything. This is your life. Our lives have always been so ingrained in all this. It’s what you get when you date the ex-Admiral’s darling granddaughter,” you felt him smile against your skin and smiled a little too.

You nodded, humming in agreement. “Did you ever think this would happen, Roost?”

Chuckling, he replied, “Probably, yeah. When we finally got together, I realised work and play were a lot more muddled, but it’s okay. I mean, the Navy feels like it’s all I know these days. It helps that you get it too. Sometimes I wish you didn’t know the ins and outs of what I do because I know it scares you a lot.”

Sighing, you stayed quiet.

“But know, I am always going to come home to you, okay?”

You nodded, pushing further back into his arms and he tightened his grip around you.

“You’re quiet,” he noted.

“I’m just listening,” you admitted. There wasn’t much more you could add, anyway. You could listen to him talk about anything and everything. His voice was a lullaby to you.

“Strange you’re not arguing with me,” he teased, giggling into your neck. You reached back to wrap an arm around his neck, your fingers playing with the curls at the nape of his neck. He sighed, he loved when you played with his hair. He was a simple man, but he fucking loved being touched. He was never starved, but no one could touch him the way you did.

“Take me home?”

“Of course. Can I just keep you here in my arms for a few more minutes?” he asked softly. God, he was just perfect. He always knew the right things to say and do to make you feel safe and protected and after your evening, he knew you just needed him to keep you close. “Don’t wanna let you go yet.”

Turning back to face him, you kissed him. “I love you.”

Even in the dark evening, Rooster’s cheeks flushed. “I know, sweet girl. I know.”

Home later that evening, you’d left your car at your grandparents, Rooster driving his Bronco back for his early start the next morning. Your drinks had caught up with you and he trotted around the car to wrap his arms around you, leading you to the front stoop of his home. Noting you didn’t exactly fall into his arms, he stopped and kissed from your earlobe to your pulse. “You good?”

“Yeah,” you replied.

Warning sirens wailed in his head as he dared say, “If the answer to my next question is ‘fine’, I’ll going to be really concerned,” he teased, trying to play cool in his concern.

“Then best you don’t ask,” you told him as he hummed into your skin and held you tightly, before unlocking the front door and letting you both in.

“C’mon. What’s up, baby? Make me regret asking…” he joked, hustling you in his arms and a mess of limbs as he walked you to the kitchen. He dumped his sunglasses, keys and phone and hoisted you onto the kitchen bench. Fuck, you loved when he showed his strength and manhandled you a little bit. He pushed up the skirt of your dress and boldly parted your legs to stand between. “Have I said or done something?” he asked, pretty sure he hadn’t put his foot in somehow since leaving your grandparent's home.

“My God, no,” you held his handsome face in your hands, tenderly. God, you loved his face and his eyes warmed under your gaze, relieved. “Just a big day. I’m tired, I drank too much champagne, I guess. Never a wise decision in the sun,” you said as his large, strong palms massaged your quads. 

“No, probably not,” he admitted. “But for a sec, let’s pretend I can’t see right through you and I can’t tell something is eating at you…” he tried as you sighed and rested your forehead on his strong shoulder.

“Can you know me worse?”

“Tried. Only made me want to know you better.”

“Then say less nice things.”

“Tried that too. You prefer me gruff and nasty,” he chuckled quietly, playing with the ends of your hair.

Looking up to smile, you gently kissed him. “Today was a lot.”

“Why? Me holding Ava? Being king of the kids? Get you all hot and bothered?” he goaded you.  

“Some of that. But also got a lot of, ‘so, are you and Bradley thinking about settling down?’ and ‘gee, he’s such a fine young man, better start thinking about weddings and babies’. And my favourite of the day from Aunt Maggie, ‘you are only getting older, dear. Bradley will want a baby eventually. If you don’t start thinking about it soon, you may be too old and miss the boat’.”

Rooster’s jaw hung. “You’re fuckin’ with me.”

“Nope,” you popped the P.

“Wow, okay. That’s a lot,” he said, a little taken aback and cradled you in his arms.

“Yeah, was a lot,” you replied, meekly, blinking back some tears while he couldn’t see your face. “What kills me the most is we’re doing so good right now.”

“So good,” he agreed.

“We’re having fun, we spend more or less every available minute together.”

“Yep.”

“Why does it have to be muddled with weddings and babies?”

He sighed softly, pulling back to look at you. “I dunno, baby. It doesn’t have to be.”

“You said it yourself though, you want kids.”

“I’m guided by you. You want a baby in ten years, fuck, that’s ten years I get to be completely selfish and have you to myself. You decide you want a baby now, well, whip your undies off and let’s get to it. We can start practising right now.”

“I’m on the pill, Roost,” you reminded him.

“Then stop it,” he shrugged. “It doesn’t matter to me because you lead, and I will willingly follow. Always. If you decide you don’t want a baby, well… that’s okay too,” he said the last part quietly but you both knew he was lying.

“Bradley?”

He pursed his lips, looking at you. He knew what you were going to ask, and replied, “I want to have it all with you. But if you are happy as we are, I will be okay with that too.”

“Bradley…”

“I won’t lie to you. I want us to have a family,” he admitted.

“And what if I can’t give that to you?”

“You’re already my family, so how can I lose?” he shrugged. 

Breathing, you kissed him deeply. You were so in love with him, he always knew how to reassure you and this time, you truly believed him because he was all you needed too. “You really think about it?” you asked shyly. As undecided as you were… you couldn’t help but ask.

He nodded, a simple smile gracing his features and a shrug. “Baby… you’ve always been an Aunty. Seeing you with children isn’t new to me. I’ve always known you’d be a beautiful mother. The only difference is it would be our sweet baby.”

Sighing, you couldn’t believe this man was yours, you wanted to kiss his face off. “Knock it off,” you rolled your eyes as he laughed, quietly.

“And you work with kids all day. You’ve got the patience of a saint. Not with me,” he said meekly as you giggled. True, Rooster Bradshaw would get under your skin in about three seconds some days. “But with those kids in the pool, that’s commendable. You’re giving them skills they will use their entire lives.”

“Bradley…” you warned.

“You want a baby, yeah, I’d make a baby with you. The practice would be a lot of fun,” he rattled off. “Kid would be fuckin’ adorable, because… I mean, look at us,” he raised an eyebrow, gauging your response and you bit your lip, trying to remain passive. “And if you decide that you don’t want to either, that’s okay too.”

“I – ” you started and shut your mouth again so quickly that it worried him.

“You?” he frowned.

“No, forget it. Didn’t say anything.”

“I have magnificent hearing.”

“You shouldn’t for someone who is in a jet every day.”

“True, I’m on a one-way ticket to tinnitus. But you were going to say something, and I want to hear it.”

“It’s so dumb,” you dropped your gaze.

Cupping your chin, he sighed. “Nothing from your mouth is dumb.”

“Okay, you asked for it… you’re away so much.”

“Correct. Not a question though.”

“What if I change my mind and you’re away for six months or something?”

“Well, I hope those days are behind me but respectfully?”

“Of course.”

“You go off that pill and I will come home so ready to make babies with you that you will be sick of the time I am inside you,” he kissed that spot on your jaw that drove you absolutely wild.

It was so hot, you think you died a little. “Impossible.”

He laughed quietly. Shaking his head, amazed. “Do you feel a bit better? I don’t want you down. It’s your body and I know you could hesitate because I might not be home as much as you need me to be.”

“We’ve got time?”

“Our whole lives,” he promised. You finally smiled, looking into his warm hazel eyes, as you cupped his chin, your thumb dragging across his marred skin, never wanting to change its perfection. “You good?”

“I feel so much better,” you admitted, softer now. More mellow from his touch. You hated the power he had over you to just snap his fingers and allow you just relinquish pain and distress. Every day he was teaching you, and it was amazing how easily he could get you talking.

“You feel really good,” Rooster admitted, quietly, his tone changed, his strong palms massaging. “Look really good too, like you need to be fucked really good.”

“I do,” you agreed as he sighed and hitched you into his arms. “Last 24 hours was pure torture.”

“I know, I know,” he kissed you softly, that kiss that drove you senseless. Just that kind of kiss that he stole before he would allow you to fall into it and your lips would chase him, a taunt he thoroughly enjoyed. “You’re here now. Bed?” he nuzzled your pulse, heady on your perfume. You giggled quietly, lacing your fingers into his curls.

“Bed.”

He smiled into your skin, his kiss leading to your lips and he kissed you properly for the first time today. You were so fucking addictive to him, his body on high alert. He knew what you needed and was not afraid to give it to you. His slick tongue tickled your lip as you gratefully fought back, missing his taste. You barely noticed he was carrying you back to his bedroom before you were lowered to the bed and his hefty weight was on you – right where you needed it to be. You wrapped your arms and legs around him, not letting him move as he huffed a laugh against your lips. “All right, all right, but you got me locked in pretty tight… how am I supposed to get you naked?”

Pondering, he was right. “Okay,” you released him and he backed up, offering you his hand as he pulled you to him, your back to him, nuzzling the base of your neck. “While I love this on,” he sighed. “The time has come, old friend,” he said to the dress as you bit back your smile and his nimble fingers made light work of the zip. He brushed the spaghetti straps off your shoulders, letting the dress float to the floor, leaving you in your strapless bra and matching underwear you’d promised earlier. He hummed, gently turning to him. “Shit..”

Pinching his cheek, you shook your head. “I know you like this one,” you taunted.

“I like this one, yes,” he swallowed thickly and your body was in flames. “Never used to give half a shit about getting a woman naked… but you make that effort to just give me a little more than I thought I needed,” his fingers traced your rib cage. “Makes me want to keep you in it just a moment longer. As well as the heels,” he tutted. “I don’t know how you wear them all day, but your legs could not look more amazing than if they were wrapped around my head.”

“Bradley,” resting your head on his chest, you were burning up under his gaze. He had the ability to make you feel like the most self-assured person on the planet under his touch. He cleared his throat to tease as you raised your eyes again.

“Don’t you dare get shy on me,” he bit back his smile, starting on the buttons of this shirt. You gently pushed your fingers away as he took the hint, his arms falling to your hips, massaging the soft skin and God, there was nothing you enjoyed more than helping Bradley Bradshaw undress. At the last button, you pushed the lovely shirt away and let it pool at his feet. He used his feet to kick off his sneakers. Popping the button and the fly on his shorts, you let the material add to the pile around his ankles before he eased you back towards the bed.

He crawled up the bed to you, his knees between your begging body. There was absolutely no need to rush. He placed a gentle palm behind your knee and dragged it to the ankle, unbuckling the heel and then repeating the action again on the other foot.

“Slow?”

You nodded as his lips crashed against yours, his arms caging your body impossibly close to him, wrapping your hands above your head with his, and again, your legs encased his hips, forcing his weight heavy on you. “I love you,” you told him as he breathed hard and said the same back, your name rolling off his tongue, his lips barely leaving yours as you grew a little more desperate for his body and he rutted his hips into yours, feeling a little more impatient than what you’d promised each other.

You rolled your head to kiss his well-worked biceps. Sitting you up, he made light work of your bra and his boxers, pinning you below him as your lips met again for a bruising crush of lips, tongues and teeth. You could kiss him all day, even with that moustache. It was so irrevocably Rooster that you probably couldn’t remember what he looked like without it anymore. You’d probably miss its tickle if he ever decided to shave it off. Other parts of your body would miss it too.

He hitched your legs wide as he slipped his middle finger under the seam of the blue lace underwear he left you in, the pad of his finger eagerly testing the waters as he tutted. “You’re so warm and wet, babygirl.”

“Have been all day.”

“I’ll bet,” he sighed. “Tell me if you need me and I will always take care of you,” he rasped, his warm tongue rolling around a straining nipple, lips enclosing and sucking purposefully. He bit you, a hiss escaping your lips as your fingers laced into his curls.

“You are so sexy – ” you tried as he slipped in a finger and his thumb started drawing circles on your clit. Your breath caught and a sigh of utter bliss escaped. His fingers were magical. “I need to touch you,” you said, reaching for him and he rolled your bodies to face each other, your warm palm reaching out for his hard cock. Your delicate fingers swirled the pre-cum around his head and he shuddered, chewing his bottom lip as you tugged at him, helping him find a rhythm.

“Good girl,” he cooed gently, his tongue sneaking between his lips as he breathed long and deep, wanting to feel your hands on him as much as you did him. “Good girl.”

You craned to kiss him, rough, the opposite of your bodies.

“I need you,” you told him, trying hard to compose yourself and not cum all over his fingers. While his fingers worked wonders, you just needed to feel as one. He breathed an ‘okay, baby’, dragging the flimsy material down your hips, moving to his knees to collect them over your ankle and tossing them over his shoulder. Sidling behind you, his strong arms dragging you tight against him, your back to his chest, your ass to cock.  So warm and slick, he sunk into you slowly, it was almost torturous as you pushed your hips back, taking him all in, your arm reaching back and curling around his hip.

A guttural growl from behind you as his fingers crept over your thigh, dragging it over his hip and opening you to him as he lazily drove into you, his palm gripping the tender flesh to keep you close. He laced his other hand in your hair, giving it a gentle tug, to kiss your shoulder blade as you mewled into him. “So good,” you manage, the slow pull of his cock and the sharp snap of his hips rendering you lifeless in response.

“Touch yourself,” he begged. “Please?”

With that voice, he could make you willingly participate in a multitude of sins, but this was too easy. He lived for watching you bring yourself pleasure, and he breathed raggedly as he tried to keep his eyes on your body, but lost to the sheer pleasure as your walls started to tighten around him. Your fingers toyed with your clit as you drew haphazard shapes, writing his name, knowing exactly what you wanted as he cursed, begging for your orgasm, his hips drawing into you, slow and delicious. You were far too wet and warm for him to last, and you were far too close as his cock hit you in the most desired of places.

“Come, baby. You are so close,” he struggled to say as his hips sped up. He was so close, only holding on to feel your walls pulsate around his cock, milking him, and dragging his orgasm out too. He gave your hip a wild smack and his teeth sunk into your shoulder.

“Holy shit, Bradley,” you moaned as his hips stuttered into yours, his orgasm triggered.

“Jesus,” his resolve crumbled as he fucked into you, hard and fast, coming thick and hot inside you as his hips continued to stutter of their own volition. “Shit,” he breathed, you both in a tangle of limbs and quietly panting. Rooster massaged your side and over the spot-on your ass he groped so roughly. “You okay?” he kissed across your shoulder and to your bicep, a litany of goose-pimples bursting on your overstimulated skin, the last sparks of your orgasm firing as he breathed deeply, trying to control himself still feeling the last jolts of your electricity.

“I’m okay,” you sighed, blissed, and found his hand resting on your hip, twisting your fingers in his.

“Love you. I’m so fucking in love with you, sweetheart,” he whispered, urgent.

“I love you too,” you told him, and he kissed you and kissed you and kissed you until you begged to stop to go to the bathroom.

“Sure you’re okay?” he asked, watching you unsteadily, your legs rendering you a little like Bambi learning to walk. He chewed his bottom lip, highly amused. Mission accomplished if your legs were shaking, but he’d lift his game up if you were still able to walk, period.

Keeping your thighs together, he sat up to meet you at the end of the bed, eyes dancing mischievously as you caught his chin in your palm crudely.

“I’m amazing, I love you. Gear up, big boy. Your night is just getting started,” you warned, as he smiled willingly, the pleasantries over. A tinge of red crept to his ears as he watched you cross the room precariously and close the door after you. He rubbed his face and collapsed back on the bed, blissfully. He heard you all right, gear up, big boy.

masterlist.

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