#Andy latest news

[rederiswrites]

Full text of Heather Cox Richardson's latest essay:

February 1, 2025 (Saturday)

Throughout now-president Donald Trump’s 2024 campaign, it was clear that his support was coming from three very different factions whose only shared ideology was a determination to destroy the federal government. Now we are watching them do it.

The group that serves President Donald Trump is gutting the government both to get revenge against those who tried to hold him accountable before the law and to make sure he and his cronies will never again have to worry about legality.

Last night, officials in the Trump administration purged the Federal Bureau of Investigation of all six of its top executives and, according to NBC’s Ken Dilanian, more than 20 heads of FBI field offices, including those in Washington, D.C., and Miami, where officials pursued cases against now-president Trump. Acting deputy attorney general Emil Bove, who represented Trump in a number of his criminal cases, asked acting FBI director Brian J. Driscoll Jr. for a list of FBI agents who had worked on January 6 cases to “determine whether any additional personnel actions are necessary.”

Clarissa-Jan Lim of MSNBC reported that Trump denied knowing about the dismissals but said the firings were “a good thing” because “[t]hey were very corrupt people, very corrupt, and they hurt our country very badly with the weaponization.”

Officials also fired 25 to 30 federal prosecutors who had worked on cases involving the rioters who attacked the U.S. Capitol on January 6, 2021, and reassigned others. Bove ordered the firings. Career civil servants can’t be fired without cause, and these purges come on top of the apparently illegal firing of 18 inspectors general across federal agencies and a purge of the Department of Justice of those who had worked on cases involving Trump.

Phil Williams of NewsChannel 5 in Nashville, Tennessee, reported on Friday that federal prosecutors were withdrawn from a criminal investigation of Representative Andy Ogles (R-TN) for election fraud; Ogles recently filed a House resolution to enable Trump to run for a third term and another supporting Trump’s designs on Greenland. On Wednesday, federal prosecutors asked a judge to dismiss an election fraud case against former representative Jeffrey Fortenberry (R-NE). Trump called Fortenberry’s case an illustration of “the illegal Weaponization of our Justice System by the Radical Left Democrats.”

That impulse to protect Trump showed yesterday in what a local water manager said was an “extremely unprecedented” release of water from two dams in California apparently to provide evidence of his social media post that the U.S. military had gone into California and “TURNED ON THE WATER.” In fact, water was released from two reservoirs that hold water to supply farmland in the summer. They are about 500 miles (800 km) from Los Angeles, where the fires were earlier this year, and the water did not go to Southern California. “This is going to hurt farmers,” a water manager said, “This takes water out of the summer irrigation portfolio.” But Trump posted that if California officials had listened to him six years ago, there would have been no fires. Shashank Joshi of The Economist called it “real ‘mad king’ stuff.”

Trump’s loyalists overlap with the MAGA crew that embraces Project 2025, a plan that mirrors the one used by Hungarian prime minister Viktor Orbán to overthrow democracy in Hungary. Operating from the position that modern democracy destroys a country by treating everyone equally before the law and welcoming immigrants, it calls for discrimination against women and gender, racial, and religious minorities; rejection of immigrants; and the imposition of religious laws to restore a white Christian patriarchy.

Former Fox News Channel host Tucker Carlson has been a vocal proponent of Orbán’s ideology, and J.D. Vance this week hired Carlson’s son, 28-year-old Buckley, as his deputy press secretary. Although Trump claimed during the campaign he didn't know anything about Project 2025, Steve Contorno and Casey Tolan of CNN estimate that more than two thirds of Trump’s executive orders mirror Project 2025.

You can see the influence of this faction in the indiscriminate immigration sweeps the administration has launched, Trump’s announcement that he is opening a 30,000-bed migrant detention center at Guantanamo Bay, and officials’ revocation of protection for more than 600,000 Venezuelans legally in the U.S. and possibly also for Cubans, Haitians, and Nicaraguans. You can see it in the administration’s attempt to end the birthright citizenship written into the U.S. Constitution in 1868.

It shows in the new administration's persecution of transgender Americans, including Trump’s executive order purging trans service members from the military, another limiting access to gender-affirming care for transgender youth, and yet another ordering trans federal prisoners to be medically detransitioned and then moved to facilities that correspond to their sex at birth, an outcome that a trans woman suing the administration calls “humiliating, terrifying, and dangerous.”

The administration has ordered that federal employees must remove all pronouns from their email signatures and, as Jeremy Faust reported in Inside Medicine, that researchers for the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention must scrub from their work any references to “[g]ender, transgender, pregnant person, pregnant people, LGBT, transsexual, non-binary, nonbinary, assigned male at birth, assigned female at birth, biologically male, biologically female.” Faust notes that the requirements are vague and that because “most manuscripts include demographic information about the populations or patients studied,” the order potentially affects “just about any major study…including studies on Covid-19, cancer, heart disease, or anything else.”

Those embracing this ideology are also isolationist. As soon as he took office, Trump imposed a freeze on foreign aid except for military aid to Israel and Egypt, abruptly cutting off about $60 billion in funding—less than 1% of the U.S. budget—to the U.S. Agency for International Development (USAID), which provides humanitarian assistance to fight starvation and provide basic medical care for the globe’s most vulnerable and desperate populations. The outcry, both from those appalled that the U.S. would renege on its promises to provide food for children in war-torn countries and from those who recognize that the U.S. withdrawal from these popular programs would create a vacuum China is eager to fill, made Trump’s new secretary of state, Marco Rubio, say that “humanitarian programs” would be exempted from the freeze, but that appears either untrue or so complicated to negotiate that programs are shutting down anyway.

Senator Chris Murphy (D-CT) appears to be beside himself over this destruction. “Let me explain why the total destruction of USAID…matters so much,” he posted on social media. “China—where Musk makes his money—wants USAID destroyed. So does Russia. Trump and Musk are doing the bidding of Beijing and Moscow. Why?” “The U.S. is in full retreat from the world,” he wrote, and there is “[n]o good reason for it. The immediate consequences of this are cataclysmic. Malnourished babies who depend on U.S. aid will die. Anti-terrorism programs will shut down and our most deadly enemies will get stronger. Diseases that threaten the U.S. will go unabated and reach our shores faster. And China will fill the void. As developing countries will now ONLY be able to rely on China for help, they will cut more deals with Beijing to give them control of ports, critical mineral deposits, etc. U.S. power will shrink. U.S. jobs will be lost.” Murphy speculated that “billionaires like Musk who make $ in China” or “someone buying all that secret Trump meme coin” would benefit from deliberately sabotaging eighty years of U.S. goodwill on the international stage.

And that brings us to the third faction: that of the tech bros, led by billionaire Elon Musk, who according to year-end Federal Election Commission filings spent more than $290 million supporting Trump and the Republicans in 2024. Musk appears to consider colonizing space imperative for the survival of humanity, and part of that goal requires slashing government regulations, as well as receiving government contracts that help to fund his space program.

Before he took office, Trump named Musk and another billionaire, Vivek Ramaswamy, to an extra-governmental group called the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), but Musk has assumed full control of the group, whose mission is to cut the federal budget by as much as $2 trillion.

Musk is interested in the government for future contracts, although a report from January 30, when Musk’s Tesla company filed its annual financial report, showed that the company, which is valued at more than $1 trillion and which made $2.3 billion in 2024, paid $0 in federal income tax. Today, Musk’s X social media company became a form of state media when the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) said it would no longer email updates about this week’s two plane crashes—one in Washington, D.C., and one in Philadelphia—and that reporters would have to get their information through X.

Musk’s goal might well be the crux of the drastic cuts to federal aid, as well as the attempt last week from the Office of Management and Budget to “pause” federal funding and grants to make sure funding reflected Trump’s goals. After a public outcry over the loss of payments to local law enforcement, Meals on Wheels for shut-ins, supplemental nutrition programs, and so on, the OMB rescinded its first memo, but then White House Press Secretary Karoline Leavitt immediately contradicted the new memo, saying the cuts were still in effect.

The chaos surrounding the cuts could have been designed to make it difficult for opponents to sue over them. This method of changing government priorities through “impoundment” is illegal. Congress—which is the body that represents the American people—appropriates the money for programs, and the president takes an oath to execute the laws. After President Richard M. Nixon tried it, Congress passed a 1974 law making impoundment expressly illegal. But the on-again-off-again confusion appeared at first to stand a chance of stopping lawsuits. It didn’t work: a federal judge halted the funding freeze, suggesting it was a blatant violation of the Constitution.

But then, yesterday, Elon Musk forced the resignation of David A. Lebryk, the highest-ranking career official at the Treasury Department. Lebryk had been at Treasury since 1989 and had risen to become the person in charge of the U.S. government payment system that disburses about $6 trillion a year through Social Security benefits, Medicare, Medicaid, contracts, grants, salaries for federal government workers, tax refunds, and so on, essentially managing the nation’s checkbook.

According to Jeff Stein, Isaac Arnsdorf, and Jacqueline Alemany of the Washington Post, Musk’s team wanted access to the payment system. Senator Ron Wyden (D-OR) demanded answers from Trump’s new Treasury secretary, Scott Bessent, warning that “these payment systems simply cannot fail, and any politically-motivated meddling in them risks severe damage to our country and the economy. I am deeply concerned that following the federal grant and loan freeze earlier this week, these officials associated with Musk may have intended to access these payment systems to illegally withhold payments to any number of programs. I can think of no good reason why political operators who have demonstrated a blatant disregard for the law would need access to these sensitive, mission-critical systems.”

Now, though, with Musk’s people at the computers that control the nation’s payment system, they can simply stop whatever payments they want to.

Wyden continued by reminding Bessent that the press has reported that Musk has previously been “denied a high-level clearance to access the government’s most sensitive secrets. I am concerned that Musk’s enormous business operation in China—a country whose intelligence agencies have stolen vast amounts of sensitive data about Americans, including U.S. government employee data by hacking U.S. government systems—endangers U.S. cybersecurity and creates conflicts of interest that make his access to these systems a national security risk.”

This afternoon, Wyden posted that he has been told that Bessent has given the Department of Government Efficiency full access to the system. “Social Security and Medicare benefits, grants, payments to government contractors, including those that compete directly with Musk's own companies. All of it.”

Josh Marshall of Talking Points Memo posted: “This is more or less like taking the gold from Fort Knox and putting it in Elons basement. Anyone who gets a check from soc sec or anything else[,] he can cut it off or see all y[ou]r personal and financial data.” Pundit Stuart Stevens called it “the most significant data leak in cyber history.”

All three of these factions are focused on destroying the federal government, which, after all, represents the American people through their elected representatives and spends their taxpayer money. Musk, who is an unelected adjunct to Trump, this evening gleefully referred to the civil servants in the government who work for the American people as “the opposing team.”

But something jumps out from the chaos of the past two weeks. Instructions are vague, circumstances are chaotic, and it’s unclear who is making decisions. That confusion makes it hard to enforce laws or sue, although observers note that what’s going on is “illegal and a breach of the constitutional order.”

Our federal government rests on the U.S. Constitution. The three different factions of Trump's MAGA Republicans agree that the government must be destroyed, and they are operating outside the constitutional order, not eager to win legal victories so much as determined to slash and burn down the government without them.

Today, senior Washington Post political reporter Aaron Blake noted that while it is traditional for cabinet nominees to pledge that they will refuse to honor illegal presidential orders, at least seven of Trump’s nominees have sidestepped that question. Attorney general nominee Pam Bondi, director of national intelligence nominee Tulsi Gabbard, now-confirmed defense secretary nominee Pete Hegseth, small business administrator nominee Kelly Loeffler, Veterans Affairs secretary nominee Douglas A. Collins, and commerce secretary nominee Howard Lutnick all avoided the question by saying that Trump would never ask them to do anything illegal. FBI director nominee Kash Patel just said he would “always obey the law.”

[kenyatta]

https://www.metamute.org/editorial/articles/californian-ideology

There is an emerging global orthodoxy concerning the relation between society, technology and politics. We have called this orthodoxy `the Californian Ideology' in honour of the state where it originated. By naturalising and giving a technological proof to a libertarian political philosophy, and therefore foreclosing on alternative futures, the Californian Ideologues are able to assert that social and political debates about the future have now become meaningless.  The California Ideology is a mix of cybernetics, free market economics, and counter-culture libertarianism and is promulgated by magazines such as WIRED and MONDO 2000 and preached in the books of Stewart Brand, Kevin Kelly and others. The new faith P has been embraced by computer nerds, slacker students, 30-something capitalists, hip academics, futurist bureaucrats and even the President of the USA himself. As usual, Europeans have not been slow to copy the latest fashion from America. While a recent EU report recommended adopting the Californian free enterprise model to build the 'infobahn', cutting-edge artists and academics have been championing the 'post-human' philosophy developed by the West Coast's Extropian cult. With no obvious opponents, the global dominance of the Californian ideology appears to be complete. On superficial reading, the writings of the Californian ideologists are an amusing cocktail of Bay Area cultural wackiness and in-depth analysis of the latest developments in the hi-tech arts, entertainment and media industries. Their politics appear to be impeccably libertarian - they want information technologies to be used to create a new `Jeffersonian democracy' in cyberspace in its certainties, the Californian ideology offers a fatalistic vision of the natural and inevitable triumph of the hi-tech free market.

from "The Californian Ideology" by Richard Barbrook and Andy Cameron, 1 September 1995

[toomanystoriessolittletime]

I wish I hated you

Summary: You never thought a family dinner would include the father of your children, but after you and Joel finally talk, things might slowly start to heal between the two of you.

Pairing: past Joel Miller x fem. reader

Wordcount: 3.9k

Rating: T

Warnings: angst, crying, talk about past shitty behaviour, more sorry's, beginning of moving on, feelings and their denial, more feelings, it's complicated cause these fools deep down love each other, food, regrets

A/N: It's been a while, but Part four is finally here. I was struggling with this but I finally have the idea for how to end this. One more part and we're done. Hope you enjoy this (and if not, don't tell me lol)

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part four of invisible string

Life in Jackson quickly became your new normal, apart from the fact that he was here too. 

Leo and Ana were thriving, going to school every day. They learned to write and to read and to count and they were excited to tell you about every little thing they had learned in school every time you picked them up. 

You already had a big collection of pictures they painted in class all around the house too. 

You had been in Jackson for almost four months now. 

You brother, being the more open one of the two of you, already had made a lot of friends. He was a trusted part of the patrol group and went out at least twice per week.

He also was officially dating Lauren, the school teacher as of the week before. 

And you?

You were… okay.

After the first two weeks of living in Jackson you had started the working rotation to find out how you could provide something to the community and you had been happy to now be working at the kitchen every morning to prepare breakfast and lunch service at the community hall. 

Cooking had always been your happy place.

You hadn’t really made any friends. 

You were working with Carl, Andy and Lisa in the kitchen, and you were going to weekly dinners at Maria and Tommy’s place. 

You and Tommy had a long talk shortly after you arrived.

He had told you how sorry he was for everything that happened. He felt guilty for leaving out of the blue, without telling you, knowing how bad Joel had been back then. 

But you weren’t mad at him, and you told him that. 

It wasn’t his responsibility to stay back just because his brother did. Tommy had believed he would find something better when he left with the Fireflies. And even though it hadn’t worked out with them, his life still changed for the better. 

Leo and Ana were ecstatic to have a little cousin in Sammy. Of course you had to explain what cousin meant, which also meant that Tommy became Uncle Tommy. A title he took with pride. 

Life was good. 

As good as it could be with anyone doing their best to not mention the big elephant in the room. 

Joel.

You hadn’t seen him more for a couple of moments since the morning he came to pick up your brother. That did not mean you had not heard about him though. 

Your brother Calvin apparently had been paired with him out on patrol a couple of times and you were more than surprised when Calvin asked you how or if he should answer when Joel asked him questions about you and the twins. 

Apparently after the first couple of almost silent patrols out, Joel had to began to ask about you on the latest patrol. Something that surprised you, if you were honest. 

You really didn’t think Joel was thinking about you. Even though he told you he was still in love with you all those weeks ago. 

How was the man who said all those cruel words to you when you needed him most still in love with you?

And why hadn’t you been able to stop thinking about him ever since that first night you saw him again?

He had not only hurt you, he had broken you. Had blamed the whole pregnancy on you alone, as if he wasn’t the one who had fucked you and had came inside of you. 

You were always on the verge between angry, hurt and longing when it came to Joel and you had no fucking clue what to do about it. 

So, after taking some time to think about your brothers question over what to tell Joel when he asked about you, you took matters in your own hands and had made the decision to talk to the man in question yourself. 

You had asked Maria where you would be able to find him and she had told you that he was working on a house on the other side of town together with Tommy for the week. Apparently the girl, Ellie, wasn’t feeling too well and Joel did not want to be on patrol until she got better. 

So on a rainy day, after you got your kids to school, you found yourself walking towards the house Maria had told you. It was Tommy you saw first when you walked up the stairs, his eyes widening in surprise before he nodded his head up, silently telling you that Joel was upstairs. 

You were thankful that the house seemed to be empty apart from Joel who you could hear hammering upstairs. Taking a deep breath you pulled your soaked rain jacket off, hanging it on a doorhandles downstairs, before you walked up. 

He must have not heard you walk up the steps, his back turned towards you as he knelt on the floor, hammering some floor boards. You approached him quietly, leaning with your shoulder against the doorframe of the door he was working in. 

It gave you some time to look at him. 

Noticing the changes in his appearance in the last six years. 

It seemed to you that he aged quite a lot since the last time you saw him. There was a lot more grey in his hair than you remembered. 

When you looked at his hands you found him wearing his wedding ring. The one you had put on his fingers, the one that he hadn’t worn much when you were still together. 

You were more than surprised that he still had it. 

He stilled for a moment before his head turned towards you, as if he had sensed you standing there. Surprised he raised his eyebrows before he put the hammer down, pulling himself up to his feet with a groan, his joints popping. 

You continued to look at him, now noticing the deeper lines around his eyes. 

He seemed nervous as he looked at you. 

„Calving told me you have questions,“ you said after a while.

„I do,“ he said with a small nod. 

„Why?“ You asked. 

„So I know that you and the… that you are okay. That you don’t need anything,“ he said. 

„You did not care about me when you told me to get the fuck out of your life,“ you said before you could stop yourself. He visibly flinched, closing his eyes. 

„I should have never said that,“ he whispered, looking at the ground as he shook his head. 

„No, you shouldn’t,“ you agreed. 

For a while the only sound that could be heard was the rain outside. 

„I revisit that day every single day and I can’t understand why I said those things,“ he said all of the sudden, looking up at you. 

„I can not understand why I treated you like I did. And I am not talking just about that night. I am talking about the whole time. Every time I told you that you deserve better, I meant it. I wasn’t… I am not what you deserve. I am broken. Maybe that’s why I kept lashing out at you. To make you understand.“

„It’s because of Sarah,“ you said and you could hear him take a deep breath, his eyes closing. 

Only saying this name had him shouting at you in the past, but you weren’t afraid of his reaction now. 

„You push everything and everyone away because you feel like it was your fault that Sarah died. And so you push everyone and everything away that could potentially hurt you like Sarah’s death did without realising that it is you how is hurting you,“ you said. 

A tear slipped down his cheek. 

„They ask about you,“ you said and he furrowed his brows.

„They ask about their Dad. In the community before they did not have an actual school, but the kids got to hang out three times a week and every time friends of them were picked up by their father, they asked about where their Dad was,“ you sighed. 

„What did you tell them?“

„That their father was out and looking for a better world for us,“ you whispered, blinking your own tears away. You looked at him with a sad smile. 

„They look so much like you. They both have your eyes and your curly hair. And your stubbornness,“ you said the last part with a small smile. 

Joel chuckled. 

„I’m sorry for that,“ he said with a head shake. 

„Can’t wait for them to be teenagers. It’s gonna be a ride,“ you said. 

Joel sucked his bottom lip in before he spoke.

„If you need help then, or… anytime really… I have some experience with moody teenagers. Sarah was…,“ a small smile sneaked to his lips, „Sarah could easily bribed with food. My Tacos to be specific. And since Tommy found a Taco press and there’s a whole field of corn currently growing….“

„I’ll keep that in mind,“ you said softly. 

Tommy called for help from downstairs and you sucked your bottom lip in. 

Joel grabbed his toolbox.

„We have dinner at Tommy’s place every Thursday,“ you said as he turned towards you again. 

He nodded. 

„If you like, you and Ellie could join us tomorrow,“ you said, before your brain could talk you out of it. 

„Are you sure?“

You huffed a laugh. 

„Not really. If I’m honest I am terrified of getting hurt again, but I am also tired of running. There is still this part inside of me, that wants you. That is and probably always will be in love with you. But while I figure this part of my feelings out, you can get to know your kids, if you’d like,“ you said.

He nodded slowly. 

„I’d really like that.“

You had never been more thankful to have found a friend like Maria. 

After telling her that you had invited Joel over for Thursday night dinner, you had freaked out immediately. Maria knew everything. You had told her you whole history with Joel after she had shown up with a bottle of wine on your doorstep a couple of weeks after you had arrived and you had spilled your feelings after two glasses of wine. 

Knowing your whole history with Joel did not help Maria’s dislike of him in the least. She judged him for the things he had done to keep the people he loved safe. How he made Tommy participate. And even though you could have just let Maria rant about him and his ways, you found yourself defending him. 

Something Maria could not understand in the beginning. 

How you could defend a man who killed, tortured, robbed and hurt people without any consequences. A man who hurt you so baldy you fled across the country while being pregnant. 

And logically she was right. There was no sane reason why you should be defending him. 

Then again, falling for the man in the first place was probably not the most logic decision you made all those years back. 

You just did.

So here you were, a glass of wine in your left hand while you „helped“ Maria cook dinner. You could hear Leo and Ana in the living room as they played with Tommy. 

Usually your brother Calvin would be here too, but it was his girlfriend's birthday to day and they had plans.

„You ready to forgive him? Just like that?“ Maria asked. 

You shook your head. 

„This is not about that. He’s their father,“ you whispered the last sentence. 

„And no matter how much of an asshole he was to me, I don’t want to stand in the way of them having a relationship, if he wants to have one,“ you said.

„I think he wants the whole package,“ Maria said, stirring the soup she had made.

You raised one eyebrow. 

„Joel came over to help Tommy fix the roof last weekend, and he stayed for dinner and some drinks afterwards. I overhead them talk about you from upstairs,“ she said quietly. 

„He is pretty damn determinate to win you back. Said he never loved anyone as much as he does still love you and that he’ll spend the rest of his life worshipping you on his knees if you gave him another chance,“ Maria said. 

„He said that?“ You asked. She nodded. 

„They were already some beers deep into the conversation, but yeah. I had my doubts, I still have them. But I can’t deny that the man is in love with you. And he’s a great father to Ellie, even though it’s complicated between them at the moment.“

Before you could react there was a knock on the door and you felt yourself tense up. 

Maria gave you a warm smile. 

„Better get out there, before Tommy tells them who exactly Joel is,“ she said and your eyes widened before you walked towards the door. 

Joel had been nervous many many times in his life. 

But nothing seemed to compare to the moment he knocked on the door of his brothers house, knowing you and his two kids, the kids he never met before, were waiting behind it. 

He had spent almost twenty minutes trying to find an outfit for himself, like this was some kind of date. Which technically it was. It was a date to meet his children for the first time. And the first step to hopefully earning your trust and forgiveness. So when he saw his blue flannel, the only piece of clothing that had survived all the way from Boston, your favourite shirt on him, it felt like it was a sign. 

„So these kids really don’t know who you are?“ Ellie asked next to him. He was more than glad she had agreed to come with him tonight. Though Maria cooking her favourite dinner might have been the real reason she agreed. 

Things with Ellie were still tense. 

And that was another thing he was to blame for. 

He should have told her the truth from the beginning. Not that it would have made the whole situation about Ellie feeling like she lost her purpose better, but at least he wouldn’t have lied to her. 

Lying to protect the people he loved seemed to be a pattern in Joel’s life, that he needed to work on too. 

„They don’t. I don’t know if or when she will tell them. So please don’t mention it. I know you’re not my biggest fan at the moment, but those kids should not have to suffer because of it, okay?“ He asked. 

Ellie rolled her eyes with a sigh. 

„Won’t spill the beans, promise,“ she said.

The door opened and Tommy grinned at them. 

„Fancy seeing you here,“ he said, Sammy on his arm who already made grabby hands towards Joel. He found himself smiling at his little nephew before he reached over to take Sammy from Tommy. 

„Yeah, Yeah. I was promised food,“ Ellie grumbled, pushing past the men.

„Still a ray of sunshine, huh?“ Tommy teased, rubbing through Ellie’s hair and she slapped his hand away with a long groan.

Joel followed them inside, closing the door behind him, Sammy still on his arm. His hands were clammy as he heard Ellie introduce herself to Leo and Ana. Sammy looked up at Joel, putting one tiny hand on his cheek, making raspberry lips. Joel find himself smiling, the nervous flutter in his stomach dying down a little. 

„Hi,“ he heard your voice and he turned his head as you walked out of the kitchen towards him. You were wearing what looked like a oversized black sweater that went to the middle of your upper thighs and a leggings beneath it. You looked cozy and he wanted nothing more than to pull you in his arms and….

„Hey,“ he said, interrupting his train of thoughts.

„You want me to go in with you? Introduce you?“ You asked. He found himself nodding.

„I am gonna tell them that you are Joel’s brother. Nothing more right now, okay?“ You asked again and he nodded again. 

„Okay,“ you said before you turned away from him, but he reached for you before he even realised he was moving, catching you by surprise, as he carefully wrapped his hand around your wrist. He could hear you little gasp as you turned back to him, your eyes searching his. 

„You look beautiful,“ he whispered squeezing your wrist.

He watched as you took a deep breath, your eyes slipping close for just a moment before you opened them and gave him a small smile.

The combination of seeing Joel wear the shirt you had gifted him for Christmas in 2014 and seeing him hold Sammy in his arms was a little overwhelming. 

But that was nothing compared to your body reacting to his touch as he told you that you looked beautiful. You flushed so hard, you were sure you could melt snow if you stepped outside. 

It was various kinds of fascinating that he still had that effect on you. 

Taking a deep breath as you turned away from him you walked inside the living room where Ellie was already sitting between Ana and Leo who were explaining their rules of Monopoly to them. Tommy had found a lot of boardgames on patrol a while back and borrowed it for tonight. 

You did not think playing Monopoly was a perfect bonding experience (it was war really) but who were you to complain?

„You gonna play too Mommy?“ Ana asked as she saw you, giving you those big pleasing puppy eyes she had from her father. 

„After dinner. I promise. But we play the official rules and no cheating like the last time,“ you said with narrowed eyes and Leo giggled. 

„Hi Ellie,“ you smiled at her and she gave you a small wave before she looked back at the game.

You took a deep breath.

„Remember that I told you that there would be guests tonight? You already meet Ellie, and this is Joel. Tommy’s brother,“ you explained to them. 

They both said Hi to him and you looked behind you finding Joel’s watery eyes on them. 

„You gonna play with us after dinner too, Mr. Joel?“ Ana asked with hopeful eyes. The dimple that mirrored Joel’s showing on her cheek as she smiled.

Joel cleared his throat and you found yourself stepping closer to him, hesitantly taking his hand.

He looked at you and you gave him a small nod. 

„I’d love to.“

It was way past the twins bedtime when you finished the second round of Monopoly. Against your hesitations, no family war broke out and Maria declared herself the winner, much to the disappointment of Ellie. 

It only took you three hours to understand why Joel was so protective of the girl. She was funny, smart and took no shit from anyone. 

Ana and Leo had been sleeping on the couch for at least an hour when you were helping to clean up the table.

„Can we… do this again?“ Ellie asked hesitantly while Joel was helping his brother in the kitchen to dry the dishes. 

„We do this every Thursday. You are always welcome to join, Ellie,“ Maria said.

„Cool,“ she nodded and you smiled, before you looked towards the couch, wondering how you would get those two kids home. 

„You think Tommy could help me get Leo home?“ You asked Maria.

„Why? We live on the same street. Joel can help,“ Ellie said before Maria could answer. Maria chuckled.

„She’s right, you know?“ Maria said. 

„I always am,“ Ellie said as she walked towards the door, calling one loud bye into the house before she stepped outside. 

There was a part of you that did not want this evening to end. 

It really felt like you were a family. 

After dinner the kids had went right into their first round of Monopoly, Tommy and Joel joining them as you had helped Maria in the kitchen. 

All you thoughts about this evening being awkward disappeared as you had come back into the living room to find Leo sitting in Joel’s lap, both of them grinning and plotting against Tommy who had Ana on his lap. 

You knew that both of the kids were so much like Joel. But seeing Leo and Joel like that made you realise that he really was a Mini version of Joel.

It made you wonder how the last years could have been if things had went differently. 

But maybe he just wasn’t ready for it back then.

„Thank you for dinner, Maria,“ Joel said as he walked back into the living room. 

„Yes, Thank you for dinner Maria,“ Tommy grinned as he went over to her, kissing her softly. 

„Oh by the way Ellie volunteered you to carry Leo home,“ Maria said towards Joel who raised his eyebrows in surprise. 

„Is that so?“ He asked with a chuckle.

„You don’t have to though. I can go ask Calvin…“ you began but he shook his head, walking towards the couch and carefully picked up Leo who, as if sensing it, put his arms around his neck, continuing to sleep soundly. 

You gulped, giving both Tommy and Maria a nervous smile before you walked to the couch, picking Ana up. She snuggled against your neck. 

„Good night,“ Maria and Tommy whispered, following you down the hallway to their door. 

„Good night,“ you whispered back, taking a deep breath before you followed Joel. 

Ellie must have went home already, leaving the two of you alone on the short walk to your house. 

„I can’t believe I voluntarily gave all of this up because I was such a coward,“ Joel said quietly as you walked into your street. 

„They are pretty awesome huh?“ You asked and you could hear the smile in his voice as he answered:

„They are everything.“

Once you were at your house you guided him upstairs and into the twins room. He carefully put Leo into his bed before he walked out of the room as you undressed them and put them into their pyjamas. Giving both of them a forehead kiss you walked out of their room, closing the door behind you.

Joel was nowhere to be found so you walked back down, finding him sitting on the porch steps outside. It had started to rain again. 

When you approached him you could hear him sniffling, your heart breaking. 

„Why don’t you hate me?“ He asked as you sat down next to him. 

„I pushed you away. I pushed my wife away, the only woman I ever truly loved. I pushed you away because I was scared to loose you. How fucking stupid can a person be? Why am I like this? I lost everything and rightfully so and yet here you are, giving me a chance to meet the children who I wanted you to…“ he stopped himself. You could see him shaking as he cried, his head lowered, his face hidden behind his hands. 

Hesitantly you let your head fall on his shoulder, one of your hand coming to rest on his knee. 

„I wish I hated you,“ you whispered;

„But I just can’t stop loving you.“

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

End Game 4

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, stalking, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your gaming buddy asks to meet up but it doesn’t go exactly as planned.

Characters: Andy Barber

Note: I'm a sleepy babay.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

There’s a finality to the tap of your thumb. You hold the block button for a moment before you let it go. The window pops up asking if you’re sure. Yes. Certain. This is just a mistake and when you’re older and wiser, you’ll be thankful you made it. If you even remember it. 

You lay back and put your phone down. Done. Over. No more Jacob. No Andy.  

Maybe you’ll go back and see Kara again, or she can come here, even if she hates this town. You can at least be thankful that it reconnected you two, and you have to be grateful to learn a hard lesson. Don’t mess with strangers online. You’re better off alone. 

You close your eyes. You’re exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, and yes, physically. Who knew scooping ice cream could be so much work? 

When you wake up, you’re sore and still groggy. The sun peers in at you brightly in the slat between the curtains. You groan and hide under the pillow. Your shift starts at noon. You can’t spend all morning doing nothing or the whole day is wasted. 

You drag yourself out of bed. Your grandma is still asleep. You’re sure she was up until dawn with her latest haul from the used book store. You clean up the cluster of wrappers around her chair and tidy up the kitchen, dumping the old coffee and brewing a new pot. 

You go to grab your phone and pause as you see an unusual notification. Your email? Huh. You don’t really use that besides for school. You open it up, thinking it might be about enrolment. No. It’s him. Andy. Holy moly. 

You scroll up and down, skimming the blocks of text. Oh god. You hit delete. You’re not reading all that. You said what needed to be said. 

You have your coffee and load the machine for whenever your mother gets out of bed. You eat and wash up, catching up on some Youtube before you make yourself get your uniform on. You head out, walking to work to enjoy the sunshine, and key in between tying on your apron and chatting with Gavin, the high schooler who does half-shifts every now and then.  

He leaves at four and you have your complimentary cone just after five. Peanut butter chocolate; classic. You eat at the window as you watch the mostly empty street. Your phone vibrates and you slide it out, hoping to take advantage of the lull. 

WhatsApp request? No way. The shammy recruiters always want a piece of you. At least you never fell for that. 

You bite into the cone and your phone suddenly blows up with Insta notifications. Bots! Ugh. So annoying. Every new follower is faceless with some generated name. You mute the notifications and put your cell away. You really are a boring person. 

As you look up, tires crush over a patch of gravel and your barely catch a glimpse of the car as it rolls just around the corner. You feel like you’ve missed something. Maybe your grandma is right about you always having your nose buried in a screen. Who is she to talk? She lives in her novels. 

Your shift ends at eight. You lock up and stop by the convenience store down the block. Nothing special, just a tray of carbonara you can shove in the nuke. As you pay at the counter, the door chimes to signal another customer. You accept your meagre meal as the other patron strides into the aisle. You don’t look over as you go directly for the door. You’re starving for more than a scoop. 

Your footsteps seem to echo through the dull streets. The frozen meal makes your hand hurt as your other holds your cell phone close. You text Kara as you finally get through the essay she wrote about Calvin’s latest antics. You wish you could convince her to play something. You feel aimless without an analog stick under your thumb. 

There’s a scuff, close behind you, loud enough to make you jump. You fumble with your phone and glance over your shoulder. You don’t see anything but the thick oak outside Luella’s. Ugh. Alright, you need to eat and lay down. It hasn’t been a busy day but still a long one. 

You pass through your grandma’s front door. She’s where she always is, in her chair, but something’s off. Something’s different. The smell of pollen hangs in the air and a pot stands on the coffee table with several white orchids tall in the soil. You frown. The last time you got her flowers, she didn’t even put them in a vase. 

“Oh, those are pretty,” you say. 

“Mph, not mine,” she grumbles, not looking up. 

“Not... who’s...” 

“Delivery man said your name. I didn’t read the card. I’m not a snoop.” 

You nod, thankful at least that she isn’t nosy. You go to the table and examine the pot. Who would send you flowers? 

You take the card off the tall pronged stick and open the envelope. You slide out the paper and unfold it. 

‘I know I’ve told you a million times, so I’ll show you how sorry I am instead. Yours always, Andy.’ 

You nearly drop your handful. Your eyes flick up to the pot and you have to stop yourself from pushing it off the table. What the hell? How... how does he know where you live? You never even mentioned what town you’re from. He only knows your college and it’s so small, he wouldn’t have heard of it. 

It’s enough to unsettle you. That he knows where you live is bad enough but the flowers themselves make a point. It’s not over. He’s not walking away but what else can you say to make him? Didn’t he get it? You think were pretty nice considering. 

“You got some boy?” Your grandma raises her eyes from the page. You can’t remember the last time she even bothered looking at you. 

“Not exactly,” you tuck the card away and put it in your pocket. “I’m going to make my dinner.” 

“Eh,” she grumbles, “fine. Get them flowers somewhere else. They stink.” 

You lift the vase, hugging it around the pot, and carry it from the room. You balance it against your hip and go into the kitchen. You use your free hand to pull open the freezer and put the pasta inside. You’re not so hungry anymore. 

🎮

The irises are pretty. The pot they came in is fancy, probably expensive. It underlines once more the gap between you and the real Jacob. Between you and Andy.

It only reminds you of how ridiculous you must have sounded. So, you just can’t understand why he’s doing this? Why is he still trying? For you? A girl with dwindling hopes of even finishing her low-tier college degree. 

You try to forget. You don’t have a shift that day but you can’t just sit around. Usually, you would. You’d hole up in your bedroom and play video games. Not anymore. He ruined that. You’re disappointed you’re letting him. 

You got down to the library for a while and wander around. There’s nothing there you’re very interested in. They still haven’t got the latest release in the series you’d read in high school. Oh well, you’ll wait around until one day you learn the fate of those revolutionary spies. 

You walk the main strip of the town. It isn’t very extensive. There’s a coffee shop and the used bookstore which also carries hobby supplies. There’s the same diner that’s been there since you were a kid and the interchangeable business that open and close year after year. 

There’s a vibe in your pocket. It’s not Kara. Another WhatsApp request, more Insta bots, and Discord. You haven’t been on the server in ages. You couldn’t keep up with all the channels and most of it was arguing about mining strategies. 

It’s Andy. Frig. You should’ve blocked him there too. You just hadn’t thought of it. 

‘Did you like the flowers?’ 

You don’t answer but he’ll see that you read it. It isn’t long before he’s typing. 

‘I am still very sorry. I wish you’d talk to me. Hear me out.’ 

Hear him out? He said everything. His son is dead and he lied to you. That’s not anything you can hash out. 

‘I know you’re not working today. I’ll make a new world and we can chat there.’ 

No. That’s not going to happen. Over. O-V-E-R. It’s done. You’re not going to be like Kara. When you cut the cord, it’s snipped. 

You won’t answer. That’s just bait. He’ll keep nibbling if you do that. You press the chat settings and block. That’s better, you can’t breathe. 

You put your phone on silent and back in your pocket. You wish you had the money to try the sushi place. It won’t last long in the bodunk town so you probably won’t ever get to. Oh well. Back on campus, they sell decent California rolls at the cafeteria. Decent, not necessarily good. 

You go home. To your grandma’s house. It doesn’t always feel like home. You know she’s counting the days until you leave. You are too. 

You wish you were brave enough to apologise. To say sorry your mom and dad didn’t want you. That she got stuck with you. It feels like saying it out loud would be worse. Just wallow in the unspoken resent, one day you won’t ever come back and maybe then you can both be happy. 

In your room, you don’t know what to do with yourself. Your Switch taunts you from across the room. You want to mine or race or even scare yourself with some Hellblade. You can’t. More Youtube. More wasted time. That’s what people like you do; people from small towns with no one who loves them and no money; waste time. 

The mindless videos help you relax but not forget. You just can’t get rid of the little tickle at the back of your head. There’s a tinge of shame that remains and a sliver of guilt. It will go. It has to, one day. 

You catch yourself staring at the orchid. You can smell it. You want to throw it away but that feels rude. Even if Andy would never know, even if you shouldn’t care. He hurt you, didn’t he? He lied. Well, you could give it to Mahalia next door, she loves flowers. 

You lay in indecision. You don’t want to do anything but lay there. Now that you’re still, you have no strength. Your day off is chipped away in your laziness.  

The next day awaits you with another shift at the booth. And the day after and the day after. 

Your fourth day in a row and you get a new Discord message. You know even before you open it, even by the blank avatar and nondescript username. It’s him. Just leave me alone. Let it go. Let me forget. 

‘I know you don’t want to hear from me but I need you to hear me. I can’t stop thinking of you and what happened. I can do better. Please, let me apologise.’ 

Blocked. Again.

Work. Again.  

You’re half asleep as you fill cones with soft serve. You smile and swallow yawns, faking it for the hyper children and cheerful couples. 

When it slows, you work on cleaning the freezer, switching out empty containers with ones from the deep freeze. As you check the soft serve, there’s a tap on the open walk-up window. Oh shoot. You should’ve been paying better attention. 

You turn back to greet the next customer but as you approach the window, your chest deflates. Frozen, like the tubs around you. You stare at Andy as he smiles at you. He wears a short-sleeve button up with blue, grey, and white stripes. His hair blows in the soft breeze. 

“Do you have butterscotch ripple?” He asks brightly. 

You blink and hesitate. You don’t know what to do. How did he get here? How did he find you? Why is he here? 

You reach for the window and before he can stop you, you shut it. You lock it from the inside and step back. His face falls and his brow arches as he stands straight. He says your name, his voice muffled by the glass, and puts his palm to the barrier. 

“Please,” he begs. 

You shake your head and turn your back to him. If your manager was here, you’d be in shit. That’s a no-no. Never turn away a customer, only shut the window when you lock up. 

You ignore him and go back to tidying. There could be a line up out there but you don’t care. Your hands are shaking and it’s not just the temperature.

You just can’t believe he’s there. You can’t believe he won’t just give up. You don’t want to believe it because you’re afraid. You’re terrified and he seems entirely clueless about how scary he’s being. 

Flowers are one thing but showing up at your job? That’s a flaming red flag that even you can see. Not only because you told him plainly that you don’t want to talk to him again, but because he’s a grown man. Fortysomething and he can’t take a hint. Why would a man his age want to talk to someone as young as you? That’s another red flag on its own. As if catfishing you wasn’t enough. 

[alchemistc]

for love that i'll keep tending | bucktommy 1/1

read on ao3

Tommy has been... stewing, for most of the night. There's no way around it.

He's been reserved, picking at the label on his latest craft beer, something he'd actually used his timeshare on the chopper to fly out to Colorado to pick up because Buck had gone down a research spiral and mentioned might be fun to try (after he'd gotten teary-eyed about the one dedicated to a brewery dog who'd passed), only the brewery didn't ship.

Eddie is almost positive they haven't had a fight. He'd spent an entire 24 with Buck, and even if Buck had been keeping silent about it -- unlikely, but always a possibility -- he'd definitely have been brooding about it. But he'd been normal. For the general rule of Buck, anyway, he'd been normal. Maybe even a little more chipper than usual. When he'd smacked a hand to Eddie's shoulder on the way to his Jeep, he hadn't even done the usual rigamarole of acting a little jealous about Eddie and Tommy spending time together without him.

Shit, is Buck losing interest?

But -- no.

No, because a week ago they'd gone to a call for a lost little girl in the canyon, and when they'd gotten to her and she'd told them all about going camping with her dads, and how she'd gotten turned around and lost, Buck had done his normal routine with kids and charmed her into calm, and when they'd found the guys frantically searching for their daughter an hour and a half later, Buck had gotten a look in his eye that Eddie had been seeing a lot of lately.

There was the general look he always gave kids -- babies especially, but kids in general -- like he found them more precious than anything else in the world. And then there was the look he reserved for parents and their kids -- contemplative, a little wistful, like he was remembering there was someone out there in the world with half his genetic makeup.

And then there was the one for gay men and their children. It wasn't like it happened a lot, but often enough that even Eddie sometimes wondered if Buck wasn't accidentally manifesting these meetings. It'd been happening with greater frequency since the moment Andi from B shift had unceremoniously dumped her new baby into Tommy's arms so that she could grab a slice of Bobby's famous apple pie before it was gone. Tommy'd been magnanimous enough to refuse to hand the baby back for most of the evening, eyeing her frazzled hair and the circles under her eyes and making the executive decision that she needed a break, even if it was just forty-five minutes at the station while they all celebrated the new arrival and the extra two weeks of maternity leave they'd had to practically sue the city for.

Buck's love of kids seemed to have laser-focused since seeing Tommy rocking a baby in one arm while he spoon-fed Jee-Yun cake in the seat next to his.

And Eddie hasn't ever really talked to Tommy about kids, in general. He's good with Chris, unfazed in the face of all his angsty teenage moods, happy to be drawn into conversations that even Eddie and Buck sometimes aren't sure how to navigate. He knows Jee's a little obsessed with him, and that it's a point of pride for Tommy. Denny and Mara are always begging Hen to invite him over more.

Maybe it's finally hitting, though? That a future with Buck almost certainly means children, at some point?

The heavyweight match ends with a technical KO in the third round and Eddie stands to grab another round of beers.

"I bought a ring on my day off," Tommy says, staring hard at his mostly empty growler, and Eddie drops back into his recliner with a grunt.

"Okay," Eddie tells him, leaning in with his elbows on his knees. Neither one of them speaks as the next bout is announced. It's technically the one they went halvsies on the package for, but Eddie doubts either one of them cares enough about it to refocus. "I gotta say, man, if you're having second thoughts I'm the wrong person to talk to, because I'm gonna get defensive and tell you you're a damn fool, and I doubt it's gonna be helpful."

Tommy turns to give him a look so unimpressed that Eddie's actually a little jealous. That, at least, is helpful.

"Okay. Good. Great, even. So, what exactly is it that's been making you leak existential dread all over my couch since you got here?"

Eddie can think of a couple different possibilities. He isn't Buck-close with Tommy, but they talk, and it's not like he hasn't been around the two of them together enough to not have been privy to some of the more intimate conversations they've had. Family is a rough subject for all of them. So there's still that glaring what if they haven't talked about kids possibility. Or just a general fear that Buck isn't ready for this step -- completely unfounded, but Tommy's a lot more insecure about this stuff than he tends to let on.

Tommy grimaces. Gestures vaguely, and shakes his head, before he finally makes eye contact. "Evan's the grand gestures guy. And now I've got a ring burning a hole in my pocket, and jack shit as far as how to propose."

And this -- this is actually the most delightful answer he could have given. This is primo blackmail material. The best man speech is literally gonna write itself.

Eddie lets him stir in it for a hot minute. He tilts his head back and forth, nods to himself, rolls his tongue over his teeth, waits, waits, waits until Tommy narrows his eyes at him and reaches for a bottle cap on the coffee table to toss at Eddie's head.

Eddie laughs. "You could ask him two days laid up in bed with the flu, covered in flop sweat, and the answer would be the same."

Tommy rolls his eyes. "Clearly my point is that he deserves more than that, and I don't have a clue where to start."

"Well," Eddie starts, "I'm aware that everyone and their mother thinks I have a secret, elaborate proposal planned out for Buck already, but I am once again reminding you that we've been over this and I'm not actually hiding any unrequited feelings for the man you want to be your husband. So."

That saga won't make it into the speech. That's a private little story for the three of them to look back on, twenty years from now, and laugh about. That's a weekend stretch of conversations in the woods of Big Bear, sharing a tent that really should have only fit one of them, that Eddie will never be able to properly express his gratitude for.

"So you've got nothing," Tommy says, a little accusatory, a lot bitchy.

"Buck likes making big gestures, man. I have zero point of reference on what he'd like if the tables were turned."

But -- actually.

Tommy huffs, melting into the couch cushions like his marionette strings have been cut.

There's a thought percolating, though. He's just not sure --

"I shouldn't be worried," Tommy says, more to himself than to Eddie. It'd been an interesting revelation, half-a-year in, finding out that Tommy was actually kind of a yapper, once he was comfortable with someone. "We've talked about this. Marriage, kids, the whole nine yards. I don't know why I'm building this up in my head."

Which is unintentionally the most helpful thing he's said so far.

"I have... an idea," Eddie drops, tentative, as Pereira once again proves why he gets the title card every time he fights. Tommy's eyes snap to his, interested. "Depends how much you trust Jee to keep a secret."

She's her fathers daughter, so very little should be the answer. They'll have to keep her in the dark until day of. Probably find a way to keep Buck distracted until things are fully in motion.

Tommy leans in.

_____

Eddie's still riding the high of finally beating Josh and Maddie at pool when Buck and Tommy slide into the bar, the two of them grinning ear to ear. Eddie spots it first, and shoots a wide eyed look at Tommy, because they'd spent a week trying to plot out a time when everyone necessary to The Plan would be available for a long enough time to make it work without cutting corners. That day is still... three and a half weeks away.

And Buck's got a ring on his finger. Eddie's already seen it up close, a simple gold band, an inscription on the inside he doesn't really know the significance of, even if it'd made Tommy go a little moony-eyed when Eddie read it aloud.

Tommy... is also wearing a ring.

Dios, did Buck go out and buy a ring the night Tommy came over for the fights?

They're made for each other. They're both insane.

Buck isn't exactly subtle when he slams his hand down on the eight-top they'd snaked half an hour ago, and if Maddie hadn't immediately shrieked and drawn the attention of half the bar, Eddie is certain he'd have wiggled his fingers for emphasis. Maybe done a jig before he Vanna'd Tommy's bling, too.

Josh immediately monopolizes all of Buck's attention by demanding Buck tell him the story with haste, Buckley, so Eddie gets a chance to raise an eyebrow at Tommy, who quickly rolls his jaw to hide the massive grin threatening to overtake his entire face.

"Well I wasn't dying of dysentery," Tommy deadpans, as the smile leaks through at the corners of his mouth. His nose scrunches when he tries to bite it down.

"He forgot to put the box away before I got back from my run," Tommy admits, cheeks dimpling, and then the fight is out of him, left fist clenched tight so that the thick band catches in the overhead light, deep grooves stretching towards his ears as he unleashes the depths of his happiness upon the world.

Eddie can picture the mad scramble, the awareness that he's been caught, the doe-eyed grin that seems to be reserved specifically for Tommy.

Buck is making a gesture that is probably less obscene than it looks, based on the way Maddie continues to grin without any sign of pulling a face. Josh is sighing.

Chimney and Hen are gonna be pissed they were running late.

Eddie owes Hen twenty bucks.

("Yeah, have you met them? I'm taking bets right now, there's no way Tommy lasts a month with a ring and a plan.")

Maddie seems to realize at the same moment as Buck that they'd narrowed their focus so completely that the prospective fiance has had time to order drinks. She rounds on Tommy with the same unhinged joy she'd fostered in her brother, growing up.

"You didn't tell me!" she says, and Eddie assumes that means Tommy had (eventually, and god does he know way too much about how active their sex life is) divulged his plan.

"You would have told Howie," Tommy accuses, and when Maddie doesn't deny it Tommy just looks smug. His grin goes soft around the edges when he catches Buck beaming at him over his sisters shoulder.

Eddie takes the opportunity, before the rest of the party arrives and derails the conversation for a second retelling, to round the table and gather Buck up in a hug.

Buck's embrace is tight, and maybe a little teary. Eddie clings back, and thinks of the years and years of disappointed hopes, the loves that fizzled out, or burst into flames, the thing behind Buck's eyes that had only made itself known after Tommy stuck around.

Hen and Chim find them like that. He doesn't even let her get a word out before he's giving Buck a hearty smack on the back and digging for his wallet.

[bippityboppitybabe]

The Sleepover

Summary: Sometimes, good things do come to those who wait.

Pairing: Andrew Byrne-Hozier x reader

Warnings: fluff, friend-to-lovers, cursing, CONSENTING ADULTS DOING THE DEED - MINORS DO NOT INTERACT

Word Count: 3266

Author’s Note: I've always felt a little weird writing/reading about a real person. However, I've been in a writing slump for literal years and Hozier's music has always been inspiring. So morals be damned, right?

Disclaimer: Ya'll, I don't know this man. This is just the musings of a perpetually single lady and this should not be taken seriously whatsoever. Any mistakes are mine and mine alone (#noproofreading), and to be totally honest I just found this gif on the internet.

(Also, Mr. Hozier, I do apologize if you somehow find this on some dark corner of the internet. Please keep on scrolling.)

You hadn’t meant to stay the night— no really, you hadn’t. But there you were, tucked underneath a blanket as the day’s morning sun rays streaked across the hardwood floors. You could hear Andrew still snoring just behind you, he was probably asleep in the reclining chair you teased him senselessly about (“What are you, a seventy year old man?” / “Hey, once you fall asleep in one of these you’ll never say a bad word about them again”). 

And maybe he was on to something. An achiness had already begun to settle in your lower back, and your right arm seemed to have permanently lost feeling from where you’d slept on it apparently all night.

Blearily, you groped around with your left (and thankfully still operational) hand for a phone. Nearly jumping out of your skin when you saw the time.

“Andy. Andy!” You hissed, (regrettably) throwing the warm quilt off your body as you scrambled to an upright position. “Andrew, wake up! We overslept!”

The plan had been for a casual movie night. You showed up at a respectable six o’clock with both your favorite candies, and he’d prepared the popcorn and drinks. There wasn’t much of a chance to do this sort of thing anymore— you had your boring 9-5 big girl job, and Andrew was more often out of the city than in it. However, whenever your paths crossed you both made the effort to spend at least a little time together.

But when Andrew had texted you last week, revealing he had an actual free Saturday night, you’d practically burst from excitement. Andrew Byrne-Hozier was your favorite person in the world— he was funny, and kind, and considerate. And while, sure, you were a little in love with him and every moment in his present made your heart feel more like molten honey than an actual organ, his friendship was too important to risk.

So, for the last four years, you’d watched as he shuffled through a couple of relationships (it was worse when you actually liked his partner) and went on tour and recorded songs. You were always there with a funny meme or thoughtful advice or listening ear, and sometimes you were just there for him when it became a little too much.

And sure, you’d also dated a few people (nothing ever serious) and you’d adopted a cat (whom Andy had nicknamed ‘Jammy’ because one time he got his head stuck in a jam jar) and you’d switched jobs and moved into a new flat— so you wouldn’t say you were pining for your best friend. It was just a crush. (A crush that made your head spin and your heart stop but who cared?)

But back to last night. You were supposed to leave right after the movie ended because Andrew had some important interview via Zoom in the morning— and while you had been in the background of plenty of interviews, you’d both decided the risk of you being spotted or heard was too high with all the relationship rumors swirling. Andy had wanted the focus to be on his music and the charity a portion of the proceeds of his latest single went to— not add fodder to the fire of him dating someone (and that someone was, well, you. You get caught one time by the paparazzi leaving his house and all of a sudden the internet was desperate to know who you were).

But that interview was scheduled for fifteen minutes from now, and the man of the hour was still sleeping off the sugar crash you’d both apparently succumbed to last night.

Pulling on your socks that you’d somehow kicked off during the night, you spared a moment to throw one of the decorative pillows littering the floor at Andrew. “Andy, wake up!”

He just groaned and covered his eyes with the crook of his elbow. “Leave me alone, it’s too early for that.”

“No it’s not! You whisper-yelled, finally launching yourself up to properly shake him awake. “It’s 8:45 in the morning, you’ve got that meeting in fifteen!”

At that, his eyes shot open, and he looked at the leather watch he’d left on overnight. “Shit.”

You nodded, giving his pant leg another tug. “Shit is right. What do you need?”

“I need to brush my teeth and get dressed.” He started, taking your hands as you helped him up. “I need a glass of water and my notes.”

You nodded, already mentally searching his apartment for the things you could gather for him. “I’ve got the water and notes, you get dressed. Whoever’s finished first can set up your laptop.”

So quickly you barely felt it, your best friend kissed you in the corner of your mouth (definitely by accident, he’d obviously missed your cheek). “Thanks babe— thank god you ended up staying the night. I’d’ve slept right through till the afternoon.”

Ignoring the butterflies that suddenly erupted in your stomach (he’d called you babe a few other times and it always got the chrysalis’ hatching), you nodded and gave him a little shove towards his bedroom. “Of course, now get going!”

You remembered seeing his interview notebook on the kitchen table, probably from where Andrew had been working on it the afternoon before. Moving with efficiency, you gathered it up, tucking in any loose papers into the pages tightly as you could, before flipping to the last page so it would be open for him.

But there, in the corner, he’d written your name. Not super unusual, he’d probably been thinking about your plans for the evening as he wrote down any points he wanted to discuss, but right next to it was a tiny heart. 

And sure, Andy doodled all the time— on napkins and music sheets and even sometimes your hand, but nonetheless the sight of that little heart warmed your own. 

Shaking your head, you picked up an empty glass from the table and filled it from the tap. Beggars couldn’t be choosers and Andrew was lucky he was getting anything hydrating right now. You glanced at the oven clock.

“Seven minutes!” You yelled, rushing into the living room and setting down the notebook and water glass. Without overthinking it, you grabbed as much as you could off his de facto interview table (usually it served as his entryway table, but it was in front of the only blank wall in his home and was the best backdrop for any business conducted over his computer).

You dumped the junk that had been littering the surface onto the couch you’d just been sleeping on (giving the quilt you’d just been shrouded in a few minutes ago a longing glance), before scooting out the table just enough to fit a chair behind it. Andrew, finally exiting his bedroom and only looking a modicum more put together than when he entered it, snagged one of his kitchen table chairs before beelining for you.

“Andrew, your hair looks awful.” You stated as you looked for a pen in the pile on the couch. You tossed it to him, and he caught it with a well practiced ease.

He laughed, plugging in his laptop before scooching into the chair he’d just placed and powering on the computer. “There’s not much I can do about it now, but you always know just what to say to make me feel good about myself.”

Rolling your eyes, you pulled out your own hair tie and motioned for him to scoot. “I’ll braid it while you pull up the link.”

Andy complied, turning himself sideways in the chair and starting to log in. As gently as you could, you brushed your fingers through the wild curls to get out any major knots— then deftly sectioned it off into three parts and started braiding.

You would never admit this, but you loved braiding Andrew’s hair. Men always had the best hair (you were pretty sure it was scientifically proven) and he was certainly no exception. His hair was thick with so much body to it— some of your favorite pictures of him on tour were the ones where his hair grew wild from humidity. It never got quite so unruly in your hometown, but there was still something untamed about his hair you couldn’t get over.

But it was over before you knew it. Deftly tying off the end, you pulled the braid a little looser— picking out a few strands to artfully fall in Andrew’s face. You tugged the finished hairstyle before glancing at the clock. Finished with two minutes to spare.

Andrew adjusted himself in the chair, pulling up the Zoom chatroom and taking a sip of the lukewarm water you’d set out.

“Thank you,” he mouthed, before turning his attention to the screen.

As quietly as you could, you backed into his bedroom and closed the door behind you. Unsure of what to do with yourself or how long you’d be trapped, you crawled into Andrew’s bed and snuggled down into the sheets (surely it wasn’t crossing a line to take a deep sniff of his pillow, right?) Pulling out your phone, you plugged it into his charger and started scrolling on social media to pass the time…

… “Hey, wake up sleepy head.” A voice softly whispered, a warm hand brushing some hair out of your face. “My interview’s over and I got us some breakfast.”

You blinked your eyes open, struggling to focus on Andrew’s face in the dim lighting of his well-darkened bedroom. Your phone, which you must’ve fallen asleep on, was lost in the abyss of the crack between bed and nightstand so you had no way of knowing what time it was.

“How’d it go?” You slurred, burrowing a little deeper into the warm bed.

He smiled, “The interview went well thanks to you and your internal alarm clock.”

“Can I have just a little bit longer in bed?”

Andy sighed dramatically, “Only if I can join. I’m still half asleep.”

You laughed, but raised the sheets as he crossed over to the other side and got in. You two had shared a bed before, you reasoned as you turned to face him, once, a couple of years ago when he’d gotten too drunk for you to leave alone after a night out. And while intoxication was markedly missing in the scenario, you and Andrew were adults and could nap together.

“Thanks again for waking me up,” He whispered into the darked, turning to face you. “My agent would have been really pissed if I’d missed that. And I would have felt awful for wasting everyone’s time, of course.”

Gently, you pressed a finger to his mouth, “Shhhh, I’m sleeping.”

Andrew chuckled, but then took your hand in his and kissed your finger across his lips gently. Surprised by the tenderness, you opened your eyes to look at your best friend.

“I’m serious, thank you. I don’t know what I would do without you most days.” Andy said, his voice, while still quiet, had a gruffness to it you didn’t quite recognize. 

“Well, good thing you’ll never have to find out what life is like without me,” you whispered back, softly smiling. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“I think, sometimes, the thing I’m scared of most is losing you.”

The confession took your breath away for a moment. Of course, Andy was the most important person in your life, but neither of you had ever said anything so… vulnerable to the other before. It had always struck you as funny— while it was no secret Hozier regularly barred his soul in his songs, the Andy you knew was fairly reserved and quiet. You knew where he stood not by his words, but by his actions.

You bit your lip, wanting to word your response carefully. Slowly, you moved your hand to his cheek, cupping his face. “I’m not sure there’s anything you could do to lose me.”

Your eyes locked for a moment, and you could tell he was looking for something in your face. You stayed still, like he was a deer you were scared of frightening away, and then the smallest smile on his face broke the trance.

“What about this?” He breathed, turning his face so he could kiss the inside of your wrist. Your face broke out in a hot flush, the feel of his lips against your skin causing the butterflies you’d been fighting with to begin anew.

You shook your head the tiniest bit, “We’re still friends.”

He leaned forward, and it was only then you realized how close the two of you were in this bed. The warmth of his body and the feel of his hand moving to rest on your hip nearly sent you overboard. Slowly, as if he was now the one afraid of frightening you, he leaned in and placed a gentle kiss right on the crook of your neck. “And this?”

Your toes curled and you almost gasped involuntarily, but you just managed to catch yourself. “We’re— we’re still okay.”

Andrew moved again, this time pulling you towards him so suddenly, his body was all you could feel. You looked up, his warm eyes searching your face again before gently, oh so gently, he brushed his lips against yours. “What about this? Are you okay with that?”

Words were lost to you as your eyes fluttered closed. You reached up and wrapped your arms around his neck, pushing yourself against him and somehow, even closer.

When your lips met again, there was no longer a question between the two of you. Suddenly, you were nothing more than the feeling of his fingers digging into your soft flesh, the scratch of your nails against his back, the heat that seemed to blossom in the space between your bodies. He groaned as your hips (involuntarily, of course) rocked into his, and you moaned at the feeling of his hard member against you.

“Andy,” You gasped, breathing hard but unable to even open your eyes— lost in the feeling of his lips trailing down your neck. “Andy please.”

Finally, you were able to crack your eyes just the tiniest bit, and almost gasped again at the sight of your best friend. He looked up at you, his beautiful hair already escaping your neat braid and his pupils blown wide as he seemed to drink you in. “Please what, darling?”

“Don’t stop.”

He didn’t. Gentle fingers eased your shirt over your head, and you didn’t even have time to feel an iota of self-consciousness before your sports bra gave way next. Bare to him, Andrew gently turned you on to your back so he hovered over you, one of his legs cutting between your own.

Slowly, almost tortuously slow, he lowered himself and placed his mouth over one of your nipples— teasing the sensitive skin before moving onto the other side. Your hands, desperate to do something, wove into his hair as you held him against your body.

His hand skated across your stomach, moving lower and lower until it slipped past the loose elastic of your sweats and underwear— those long fingers you loved watching play music parting you and dipping inside for a brief moment.

You arched against him, gasping at the sudden feeling of him. Part of you still didn’t believe this was real, that surely you still had to be sleeping, even as he deftly pulled your remaining clothes down your legs.

Kicking them off and into the room, your own hands pulled at his shirt while raking your fingernails across the pale skin of his back. Now chest to chest, you couldn’t help but grind down onto the sweatpant clad thigh between your legs, desperate for any friction to try and relieve the growing pressure. 

Hot kisses trailed down the side of your neck as you felt him laugh against your skin, “Someone’s a little impatient.”

You groaned again, your chest heaving against his as a hand reached to slowly knead a breast. “You have no idea how long I’ve been patient for,” your voice was breathier than you’d ever heard it. “How much I’ve been wanting you.”

A cry filled the dimly lit room as those long, tortuous fingers found you again— Andrew expertly rubbing your clit with a thumb as he shifted his weight to start taking off his remaining clothes. Your hands reached behind you, searching for something (anything) to steady yourself against as the sweet, familiar pressure started to grow.

He bent your right knee down with his free hand and spread you even wider. “Say that again,” he whispered as he laid down at your side, his voice barely audible over the rushing in your ears. 

You gasped as the crescendo started, two fingers now inside you— their movements exquisite and maddening. “I want you—” you paused for a moment, your eyes squeezing closed against the incoming tide. “Only you.”

Shuddering, you barely had a moment to catch your breath in the seconds after your first orgasm before Andrew was reaching around you, fumbling for a moment before finding a familiar foil and ripping it open. Planting a kiss on your temple, the two of you locked eyes for a moment. You smiled, tenderly stroking a finger down the side of his face.

Andy shifted his weight so he was hovering over you again, his eyes searching your face with a question. Barely coherent (and dazed from how quickly you’d just orgasmed), you leaned over to answer with a lingering kiss— resting your forehead against his to pause for a moment.

“Please, Andy.”

In response, those tortuous fingers curled around your hips, your best friend kissing your neck as he positioned himself right at your entrance. “Tell me,” he whispered against your sweaty skin. “Tell me if you want me to stop.”

Your hips jutted upwards, and you groaned at the feeling of him brushing against you for just the briefest of moments. “I’ll never want you to stop,” You breathed, reaching up to stroke his face with your thumb. “I’ll never stop wanting you.”

The feeling of him, all of him, was more than you had ever created in your daydreams; you couldn’t have imagined how his hair would tickle your face as he leaned down to kiss you, you didn’t take into account the visual of his long, lean body as he thrust into you again and again and again, and never in a million years could you have conceived how beautiful of a sound he would make as he climaxed inside you.

Afterwards, glowing in the aftermath of your orgasm and the feeling of Andrew lingering on your skin, you turned over to face him. His hair, now completely fallen out of the braid you’d hastily pulled in it, spread out over the pillow like a halo. His cheeks were flushed (as were yours, you felt sure), the high spots a delicate pink as he breathed heavily and stared up at the ceiling.

“Hey,” you whispered softly, almost afraid to break the spell of the moment.

He turned to you, and his liquid brown eyes caught yours as a huge smile spread across his beautiful face. “Hey yourself.”

“You still have me, you know. If you want, I mean. I’m still not going anywhere.”

Andrew reached out to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, pressing a kiss to your temple. The actions, so sweet and tender, made your heart squeeze with affection and hope. “Good, because I still don’t know what I would do without you.”

[cevansbrat0007]

Hello 🤗 I am back to cause chaos lol I have had this thought for days. What about the reaction of Andy and or Ari if there girl goes and gets waxed down there and they usually go to a woman but this time it was a man ?

Summary: Ari doesn't approve of your latest trip to the spa.

Warnings: Mature Themes, Ari Being A Menace, Jealous/Possessive Ari Levinson, Arguments, Smut, Discussions of Personal Grooming Habits, Manhandling, Oral Sex (fem rec), Ass Slapping, Cursing, Minors DNI.

A/N: Part of my Sweet Renegades Series. Semi-proofread, not beta'd. All mistakes are my own. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated. Thanks for reading!

You and Ari are in the middle of a conversation one evening, with both of you taking turns catching the other up on the events of your day. 

“Anyway, I can’t wait to try their new, revamped line of body butters they’ve got coming out next month.” You pause for a moment to shut the dishwasher before dutifully pressing start. “I remember the first time I used their hibiscus and papaya scrub – wait. Or was it the oil?”

You cast a glance over your shoulder at your handsome Bounty Hunter who’s been busy holding up a wall in your kitchen ever since he walked in the door less than fifteen minutes ago. You’re not the least bit surprised when you see him shrug, the poor man looking so lost it was almost comical.    

“Eh, I can’t quite remember.” Your fingers come up to tap your chin. “But whatever it was, it seriously had me smelling so good practically all flippin’ day.” 

Satisfied, you return your attention back to tidying up your kitchen. Since Ari had texted saying he’d already eaten and you hadn’t wanted to leave the clean-up to the last minute, you’d decided to tackle it before you got too tired and didn’t feel like doing it anymore.

“Now, Beast, if you find yourself hungry in the middle of the night you just go on and help yourself. And don’t forget about the biscuits.” You tell him as you move to wash your hands. “They are literally the backbone of the entire dish.”

A beat goes by before your rugged companion responds. And when he finally does, it’s with something you least expect.  

“So, I take it there weren’t any, uh, other lady waxers workin’ at that fancy spa place of yours today?” Ari coughs, appearing more than a little uncomfortable with the subject matter at hand. 

“Huh?” Confused, you lean back against the countertops before bracing yourself on your elbows. “That’s all you managed to get out of the last ten minutes?”

His sheepish response of “well, yeah” has you shaking your head in exasperation. 

“Of course there were. The staff at Ostara is almost all exclusively female.”   

“Oh. It’s just that…” He gazes up at the ceiling, almost like he’s waiting for the right words to come tumbling down out of the sky. “When I asked how your day was a little bit ago, you mentioned that someone named Michèle handled your waxing appointment. I just assumed it was a woman...” 

“Nope.” You reply, crossing your arms over your chest. “Michèle is most definitely a guy.”  

“Okay.” Ari blows out an uncertain breath the same time as one of his big hands comes to rub at the back of his neck. “Not too sure how I feel about that.”

“About what?”

He gives a lame shrug before jamming his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “‘I guess I’m just not too keen on the idea of another man seeing you…like that. In fact I know I’m not.”

His words have your mouth falling open. “Beast!” You exclaim, slapping an incredulous hand to your forehead. “I promise that we kept everything strictly professional.”

“Never said it wasn’t.” He mumbles, even as he continues glowering at you from across the room.   

“Welp, now that we cleared that up I think I’m ready for bed.” You push away from the counter, intending to put an end to the discussion by heading upstairs. Although a part of you should’ve known that it couldn’t possibly be that easy. “If you decide you wanna join me, you might wanna try getting over yourself first.” 

“Now hold on.” He goes to reach for you as you pass by, but because you see it coming, you manage to dance out of the way. “Bird, wait!”

You simply didn’t have the energy to argue with him about something as trivial as this tonight. He could get over it, or he could go home.

“Slow down a second, woman!”

To your credit, you manage to make it all the way to the top of the stairs and into your bedroom without looking back once. Not that you needed to anyway since you could feel that your Bounty Hunter was hot on your heels. 

“Hey!” Ari growls, snagging a fistful of your oversized sleepshirt and hauling you flush against his hard chest. “You know I hate it when you walk away in the middle of a conversation. Drives me fuckin’ nuts every single time.”

Now that you knew to be true. It was part of the reason you always kept that move in your back pocket. Because it always bought you time while pissing him off. 

“You were being ridiculous.” You tell him, reaching behind you to twine your arms around his neck. “But if you’re finished, I suppose I could be convinced to let you take me to bed.” 

All is quiet for a moment as your eyes flutter closed, your body content to relax as you listen to the sound of his heartbeat. A hint of a smile tugs at your mouth when you feel two large, warm hands settle on your hips, followed by a whisper of lips tracing along the shell of your ear. 

“How ‘bout you finish telling me about why you let another man see what’s mine?” While Ari manages to keep his tone low and even, there’s no mistaking the fact that he’s pissed.

And just like that, the spell is broken. Immediately, you pull away – surprised when he lets you go. 

“Seriously?” You snap, almost tripping over your own two feet. “I already told you, the girl who usually does it called in sick. What else did you expect me to do, Ari? Skip it?”

“Well, maybe.” Ari grunts, his sensual lips curving into a frown. “Not sure why you even felt the need to subject yourself to that shit in the first place. I had no idea when I left you this morning that you were planning to abuse my pussy like that.” You watch as he runs an agitated hand through his chestnut locks. 

“Just so we’re clear, this is my body we’re talking about, okay? Which means I'm in control of what happens to it.” You perch on the edge of the bed, your entire body bristling with annoyance. It was a shame that your man refused to let this one ride.

“Bullshit.” He hisses before grabbing the bottom of his faded gray t-shirt and dragging it over his head. “I’m not talking about your body, I’m talking about my pussy. The same greedy cunt I find myself feedin’ damn near everyday.”

“Oh, don’t be crass.” Your tone is rife with indignation, even as you feel your cheeks heat. 

“Who the hell’s bein’ crass, Duchess? All I’m doing is telling the truth.” Next he goes to work on his jeans, unfastening the button and zipper before dragging them down his legs and kicking them into a random corner of the room, leaving him clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs. “I tell you all the time about how fucking greedy she is, don’t I?”

Okay, fine. But that didn’t mean he had to be so loud about it. So what if you hadn’t been the type to enjoy sex all that much before Ari came along? Now you couldn’t get enough. Where was the crime, officer?  

“I’m not that greedy.” You pout, doing your best to ignore the wetness coating your thighs.

“Baby.” Ari murmurs, bridging the distance so that he can bend down to take your lips in a brief kiss. “How many times have you been done – I’m talking absolutely spent – and she hasn’t wanted to let me go?” He briefly distracts himself by twisting one of your curls around his finger. “So I’ve gotta take you again. Fuck you even longer and harder so she’ll finally let us both get some rest.” 

“I–I’m not even sure I know what you’re talking about.” Except you absolutely did know what he was talking about. And it was absolutely true. Well, most of it anyway. 

“Is that so?” Ari murmurs as his voice dips, his tone pitched to arouse. “Then perhaps you need me to help jog your memory.” His leans in trail a line of soft, sensual kisses along the curve of your throat. 

“Maybe.” You rasp, tilting your chin up so as to grant him easier access. 

“I’ll do whatever you want so long as today is the last day I ever have to hear about you letting another man see what’s mine.”

“That is IT!” You snap, shooting off the bed so fast you barely miss smacking heads. “Fuck you, Ari Levinson! If you’re so hellbent on making something out of nothing then you can just see yourself out already.”

“I can’t help it if what I’m feeling actually feels like something instead of nothing.” You can’t help but notice the way his heated gaze tracks your every movement. 

“For the last time, I went to a salon and spa to see a licensed esthetician for a professional waxing appointment like I have done for ages. Today it just so happened to be with a guy.” This time when he tries to touch you’re quick to slap his hand away. “Nothing happened other than me enduring having hot wax poured onto, and then subsequently ripped off of, my nether regions. That is it.” You huff, poking him in the chest with your finger. 

“And I’m trying to tell you that you didn’t need to put yourself through all that.” You jump when he nips at the offending finger, gently catching it between his teeth. “Not for me. I don’t mind a little hair. Doesn’t bother me any.”

Well, you would be sure to file that one away for future reference.

“But I didn’t do it for you, you goof!” You yank your hand away, attempting to put some distance between yourself and the annoying, half-naked Bounty Hunter standing in front of you. “I did it for me. It’s part of my…my self-care, or whatever.” Your pulse speeds up when you watch him reach inside his boxers to adjust his rapidly hardening cock. “Okay? But I won’t use Michèle again if it bothers you that much.”

“Appreciate that.” Ari nods once, his perfect teeth sinking into his bottom lip as he slowly backs you into a corner. “But I wanna put it on record that I’m the type of man who’s gonna enjoy his meal however you’re fixin’ to serve it, sweet Bird.”

Holy shit. Why the fuck did that make your pussy gush the way it just did?

“M–meaning?” You gasp when you collide with a nearby wall. Grinning, Ari slips a wandering hand between your bodies, pleased when he finds you naked and wet for him. He cups your bare pussy, reveling in the way your sticky honey eagerly coats his palm.  

“I just don’t want you thinkin’ about depriving me because you’re in between appointments, or 'cuz your regular gal has to reschedule.” You let out a whimper when Ari grinds the heel of his palm against your swollen clit. “I’m afraid that’s not going to work for me. Or, I suspect, for her.” 

“You’re so bossy.” You whine, rising on your toes as he continues to tease you. “You really gotta work on that.”

“You think so, beautiful Bird?” He gazes down at you through lidded eyes, his easy grin bordering on indulgent. And then he applies more pressure, not missing the way your toes curl into the plush carpet as pleasure begins to overwhelm you.        

“Uh huh.” Your hands go to grip his forearm, perhaps hoping to better increase the friction. 

“Then I reckon I just might owe you an apology.” And truth be told, he recognized that he probably did. It was entirely possible that he let the whole Michèle thing bother him more than it ought to. Perhaps he’d sleep on it and see how he felt about it all tomorrow. Or not.

But for now, there was something else he could do to help mend things – provided he was willing to get a little filthy. 

Ari surprises you by removing his hand. But just when you’re about to pitch a fit, he drops to his knees in front of you. “Let me make it up to you, sweetheart.” He begins as his fingers trail their way along the soft skin of your calf. “Let me apologize for giving into some of my baser instincts, like the neanderthal you’ll probably wanna claim that I am.”

“Beast–” You open your mouth to respond, only to let out a surprised squeal when he picks up your leg and drapes it over one of his broad shoulders. “Jesus!”

“Hush.” He then leans in to bestow a hot, open mouthed kiss to your exposed pussy. He groans against your most intimate flesh, savoring the sweet, earthy taste of you. “Need to make sure she’s okay before I start apologizing too much.” Is all he says before he goes back to burying his face between your thighs, nuzzling at your glistening folds with the tip of his nose. 

“Are you sensitive anywhere?” Ari growls, his voice coming out slightly muffled as he circles your throbbing bundle of nerves with his skilled tongue. “Sore?”

“No.” You breathe, lightly running your fingers through his dark brown strands. “In fact, I feel ah-may-zing.” You finish with a tiny giggle.

“Good.” 

That’s your only warning before your world suddenly shifts as Ari tosses your other leg over his shoulder. Next thing you know, he’s back to standing at his full height. And you’re now touching the ceiling with your thighs locked around his head.     

“Omigosh!” You cry, the sound of your nervous laughter filling the room. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t – ooh…oh God yes…yesyesyes!” You smack your open palm against the ceiling as your Bounty Hunter begins to eat you like a man starved. 

“Oh don’t stop, Beast, please!” You sob, grinding your dripping pussy against Ari’s face, soaking his beard just the way he likes.  

Words, rough and unintelligible, rumble out from somewhere deep in his chest. And while you may not be able to understand him, you know exactly what he’s trying to tell you. His hands gripping your ass to hold you in place are enough to drive the message home. 

You were to take everything he gave you like a good girl. His good girl. So you do. You practically scream yourself hoarse as Ari takes his time tormenting you with every sensual flick, every tortuous swirl of his wide, flat tongue.

He gets off on the way he's making your legs shake, the sound of you unbridled cries and soft whimpers leaving him painfully hard. But still he doesn’t stop. He continues taking his time, worshiping you the best way he knows how.

“I’m sorry, baby.” Ari grunts when he finally comes up for air, his breaths coming in sharp pants. “But I’m still gonna need a little more time to work on my apology.” One of his hands delivers a swift blow to your ass, making you yip. “Really need to reconsider my behavior today while I put a fresh spitshine on my pussy.” He winks at you then, letting you know that he means every word.

“I’m sure she won’t mind.” He quips with a grin, his chin still shiny with your juices. “And neither will you.”

END

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[multiverse-sparkles]

Loving him was never enough — B. Barnes.

summary: you allow yourself to feel the loss and the hurt of his betrayal— but after this, you promise yourself; no more. this time, you leave bucky barnes. this time, you put yourself first.

pairings: bucky barnes x reader

warnings: cheating, ANGST, more angst, allusions to pregnancy, cursing.

part 2 to this

the party was in full swing downstairs; another celebration for a reason you no longer bothered to remember. from the third year of your marriage, banquets and gatherings were a part of your week, either with your husband's business associates or simply just friends getting together for the sake of appearances, it was a chore itself to try and keep up with the latest reason for a celebration of such caliber.

yet you have always played your part well; smiling, cheering, and raising toast when needed be. you've also perfected the charade of a loving husband and wife, sharing ocassional whispers and laughter, perhaps even a lingering kiss; and sometimes, they were welcomed. sometimes, you do feel the tenderness as he gazes at you. you feel the butterflies whenever he would whisper something cheesy on your ears. even the touch of his lips upon yours were enough to renew hope, until, come another day.

but recently, you've only ever been feeling the heavy weight of dread on the pit of your stomach. something ominous, something akin to resentment ; an emotion you've never entertained, despite his numerous indescretions. his blatant disregard for the sanctity of your marriage has finally caught up with you.

bucky finally exhausted your love.

because as you stared at him, in his act of something so sinful, molding his body with another woman, fucking into her with wild abandon; it was like a bucket of cold water has drenched you.

you were suddenly all too aware of your surroundings, and your grip on the knob loosened, only enough to close the door back again.

the frames rattled, the occupants of the bed stilled, and only the patter of drifting footsteps filled the silence.

the same time bucky's blood ran cold in his veins.

you slept in what felt like, the best ten fucking hours of rest; awaking with the bright sun peaking from the spaces of the curtain, even the birds chirping happily, and for the first time in a really long time, you woke up with a contented sigh.

you were back in your old home, it's much smaller in size, and comparatively less luxurious than the estate you lived in, but it was home. and it was yours. something that could never be tethered to the man you called your husband.

automatically, you checked your phone for emails; several missed calls and text messages from bucky himself were what welcomed you, yet you opted to ignore them, instead checking in with your close friend and one of new york's finest; andy barber.

barber: will you be free to come to the office at around ten? i can discuss your options, and we'll have to go through the paperwork to sort out whatever you need to do.

barber: also, while we're at it; i'm proud of you.

for what felt like hours, but couldn't have been more than ten minutes, you thought back to your back and forth correspondence the night prior— thinking, had you really made the decision to leave him? was it real this time?

could you live without him?

you'd pondered about the prospect most of your marriage, ultimately coming to a conclusion that it was difficult to eject james out of your system. he was your entire world and existing without him was a thought that couldn't even exist in your orbit. and ultimately; can you really live the rest of your life, chained to a man so warped up in his own selfishness without making the effort to actually consider what you may be feeling?

can you continously gaslight yourself into thinking that he loved you; in his own, twisted way. that he was only so weak of a man to deny the temptations and wants of his flesh— were you not so tired, and broken down by his false promises, that you ache, deep in your soul.

when will you realize that the only person who deserves unlimited forgiveness was yourself, and not the man who promised you forever; but stomped and ran over the tattered pieces of your heart.

your hand touched upon your stomach, a protective instinct blaring noisily in your head; you have not only yourself to think about now.

years of trying had not once bore to fruiton until now— you wipe the hot tears streaming down your face, a sob echoing in the stilness of the room. why was your love so cruel to you? why was it that you had let things go this far with a person such as james?

you cry out. torn and heart wrenching cries as you let yourself feel the years of betrayal, and heartache, promising yourself that this will be the last.

soon.. you hope; soon, you will no longer cry for him.

[holylulusworld]

SHG for killers (1) - The first meeting

Summary: 6 men meet up to talk about their problems. They soon realize they need someone to help them solve their problems. This person is you. Whether you like it or not.

Pairing: Steve Kemp x fem!Reader, Lloyd Hansen x fem!Reader, Robert Pronge (Mr. Freezy) x fem!Reader, Andy Barber x fem!Reader, God, the bounty hunter x fem!Reader, Ransom Drysdale x fem!Reader

Warnings: mentions of murder/killing for money, serial killers/hitmen, mentions of blood/gore, talk about crimes, self-help group for killers/hitmen, world building, we get to know the men first

Self-help group for killers masterlist

“IT STINGS!” His screams of pain and agony echo in Lloyd Hansen’s mind when he wakes from another restless slumber.

He’s a stone-cold mercenary. Merciless and fearless. Or he was. That was until a certain former CIA lapdog pissed onto everything Lloyd stands for. It doesn’t help that he lost two fingers while hunting Six down.

“Bastard,” he curses under his breath as his eyes focus on his hand mutilation. “Still miss my pussy fingers,” Lloyd grumbles angrily. “Wait until I find you, Sierra Six. You’re a dead man; you just don’t know it yet.”

He closes his eyes, replaying the scene again. Lloyd grits his teeth, remembering how he got into a grapple with Six, who blew off Lloyd's left pinkie and ring finger.

The finger prosthetics don’t make him feel better. Sierra’s win over him, the loss of his fingers and reputation, still stings. His self-confidence and ego were not only bruised but torn in two.

For months, he fails mission after mission. His team is long gone, and so is his patience. Lloyd is angry and out for blood. Preferable Sierra Six’s blood.

He tried anything to find the renegade assassin. So far, he didn’t even find a trace. Sierra Six is a master at hiding from his enemies. Lloyd gives him that.

“One day, you’ll pay for what you did.”

“No drugs. No contact with other offenders. No missing an appointment,” Ransom’s probation officer recites all the rules he must follow. “Mr. Drysdale, did you even listen?”

“All of you are telling me the same thing.” Ransom sneers. “You’re the fifth guy in not four months. I know the rules.” He leans back in the uncomfortable and cheap chair the probation officer offered him. “All of you try to get me behind bars again; I get it. You’re pissed because I got out earlier than everyone expected.”

“Mr. Drysdale,” the probation officer replies, watching Ransom munch another cookie. “I really don’t have the time to make plans to get you behind bars again. That’s not in my job description. If you don’t have any problems, we can end the meeting for today.”

“Shit, just a sec.” Robert doesn’t have the time to talk to his ex today. “Listen, you got the money and the car. Let’s part on good terms.” He’s poorly hiding his anger. If she says one more word, he’ll sneak into her new apartment and kill her and the bastard who’s banging her brains out now. “I got a job to do.”

Robert hangs up the phone. He’s not done with the body yet. The client wants proof that her husband is dead. She’s a naughty one, Robert thinks to himself while getting the saw out. Well, all for customer satisfaction.

The doctor is not happy. He tried anything to make sure his business was flowing. Sadly, some people try to stop him from being successful.

“You had to cross me, didn’t you?" He looks down at his former partner and sneers. “We could’ve made so much money. But you had to find your conscience.”

Steve kicks the dead man, grunting as he’s bleeding on the brand-new carpet at his office. Killing his partner wasn’t in his plans for today. It’s not the first time he got his hand dirty.

If Steve were honest, he’d admit that he likes to get his hands dirty. As a doctor, he should save other people’s lives, not take them. Still, he can’t help but feel excited about his latest decision.

Watching the family grieve over the death of their recently killed father and husband, God furrows his brows. He never understood human emotions. The man he killed was a tyrant. He betrayed his business partners, terrorized his family, and cheated on his wife.

The man remains in his hideout to watch the family and friends mourn their loss. Lately, he likes to stick around to watch their reaction. Some scream. Others silently cry.

God likes the ones who put on a show for others the most. He did so all his life. Pretending in public that he’s a normal guy.

The truth is, he feels hollow because he never belonged...

Andy Barber steps out of the courtroom with his head held high. He won another case and can’t help but smirk as his opponent seems to be salty.

“Barber,” the prosecutor says, venom in his voice. “Congratulations on letting another monster go free.”

“If you wanted them in jail,” Andy says, and he dips his head to watch his client smirk at the victims of his cruelty, “you should’ve been a better lawyer.”

Andy walks toward his client, a spring in his step to shake the monster’s hand. He smirks and assures the man he deserves to walk out of the courtroom as a free man. Andy squeezes the man’s hand hard, making him wince. Who would’ve thought a lawyer could be so strong?

The serial rapist ends up dead after the accused was acquitted for lack of evidence. Lloyd recites the newspaper. “I see you’ve been very active lately, Barber. Do I need to remind you to keep it low?”

“No one asked you,” Andy shoots back. He doesn’t know why he’s still coming to the so-called self-help group. Andy doesn’t feel guilty for killing his clients. Who else would punish them for their crimes? “They had a choice, Hansen. It wasn’t me letting him go.”

“He’s not wrong,” Ransom says between munching a cookie and sipping on the expensive mochaccino he bought on his way to the group. “Barber got a point there.”

“Who asked you, amateur?” Robert sneers. He just can’t stand Barber or Drysdale. They are not worth his time, or so he thinks. He’s fine with Hansen and the guy calling himself God. They are like him—professionals. “I don’t even know why you, Mr. Lawyer, are here.”

“I invited them,” Hansen grunts. “If you want to leave, you can go anytime. I founded this group, not you.”

“Man, stop making a fuss!” Pronge shows his palms. “I only wanted to point out that they are not professionals. What if the cops find out about their hobby? What if they decide to get a deal and rat us out?”

Lloyd snorts. He looks at the black leather glove hiding his prosthetic fingers. “No one rats Lloyd Hansen out. We all agreed on complete secrecy. What we discuss here stays within this room.”

Andy rubs his bearded chin. Coming to the group to talk about the crimes he committed helped him improve. Lloyd and God even gave him advice on how to make his crimes look like accidents. “I’m going to therapy now,” he admits. “Not to talk about my hobby, though.”

“Therapy, huh?” Lloyd taunts, while Ransom smirks. God and Robert busy themselves with checking their phones for new clients. “I hope you’re not talking about our little group with the doctor.”

Steve sneers. “Don’t call these incompetent wannabes doctors. They are by all means nothing but pathetic losers trying to tell you how to live your life.”

“No one asked you, Dr. Frankenstein,” Ransom snaps at Steve. “Did you work on some nice asses and tits lately?”

“Shut up,” Steve jumps up, knocking his chair over. “At least I got a job, and I don’t live off my family’s money.”

“Shut up yourself!” Ransom puts his cookies aside and throws the rest of his mochaccino at Steve.

“Gentlemen!” Lloyd yells at Steve and Ransom. “We come here to talk about our problems and help each other improve. I didn’t come here, freezing my ass off on the way to watch you fight like girls over the latest fashion trend.”

“The therapy helps me more than coming here,” Andy raises his voice. “Your advice was good, but I think I’ll stick to her.”

The men stop fighting and stare at Andy.

“Her?” Lloyd licks his lips. “You’ve got a pretty little doctor for your therapist? Why didn’t you tell us before? We would’ve been all ears.”

“Why does this make a difference?” Andy cocks a brow. “She’s got a good reputation and listens to me. I talked to her for months, and she never pressured me into talking about my family.”

“Boohoo, your wife killed your murderous son and is as dead as your latest victim,” Lloyd mocks Andy. “Let’s talk about that pretty ass you’re seeing. Show us her reputation and shit.”

“Why?” Andy sighs deeply. He knew it was a mistake to talk about you and your sessions.

“For science,” Lloyd grins and snatches the phone out of Andy’s hand. Before Andy can protest, Lloyd throws the phone at God, nodding at him. “Unlock it, and look for the doc.”

Steve rolls his eyes. He didn’t come here to talk about some therapist. “Can we go back to business? Barber has a therapist. Maybe he even bangs her. Who cares?”

“Bangs her?” That picked Lloyd’s interest. “Not the worst idea. Maybe as a new version of therapy. Fuck all the bad memories out of her sweet cunt.”

“Got it,” God says and throws the phone at Lloyd. Y/N Y/L/N,” he recites your address and contact information. “She looks cute.”

“Cute?” Ransom laughs. “I didn’t know the word cute is in your vocabulary. Show me.” Ransom walks toward Lloyd to look at the phone in his hands. “Not bad. Hey Barber, does she have a cute ass too?”

“Why are we talking about some woman? If our meeting is over, I’ll go back to business,” Steve says as he gets up. He wants to walk past Lloyd but glances at the phone. “Hmm…I’ve seen her before.”

Steve snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands. He looks at the pictures of you, licking his lips.

“Stop stalking my therapist,” Andy angrily says. “Can I get my phone back now?”

“I remember now,” Steve exclaims while staring at your pictures. “She accompanied one of her patients. They wanted surgery, but she talked them out of it. I hated her.” He shrugs.

“I bet she’s an uptight little doctor,” Lloyd muses. His smirk darkens as he looks at the men he brought together around two years ago. “Barber, did you already have a taste? I bet she tastes like strawberries.”

“Hansen, that is enough,” Andy grumbles. He snatches the phone out of Lloyd’s hands and turns to leave. “This was a waste of time!”

“Not to me.” Lloyd clenches and unclenches his fists. “I think I found something that will help us improve as a group. You all came here to talk about your problems and to get better at what you’re doing. I think this sweet doctor will be a big help.

Part 2

Tags in reblog.

[reasonsforhope]

"Twenty million trees will be planted and 2,500 hectares (6,178 acres) of new woodland created in the west of England as part of a "national forest" drive, the government has announced.

The Western Forest will be made up of new and existing woodlands across Gloucestershire, Wiltshire, Somerset, the Cotswolds and the Mendips as well as in urban areas such as Bristol, Swindon and Gloucester.

It will be the first of three new national forests promised by the government to help meet a legally-binding target of achieving 16.5% woodland cover in England by 2050.

However, with only 10% cover achieved so far, environmental groups have warned much more needs to be done to meet tree-planting targets.

The most recent research shows the total area of woodland across the whole of the UK is currently estimated to be 3.28m hectares.

That represents 13% of the total land area of the UK but in England just 10% is woodland.

Across the UK, the aim is for 30,000 hectares of woodland to be planted every year.

The latest annual figures show about 21,000 hectares were planted, with the vast majority in Scotland and just 5,500 hectares in England.

Andy Egan, head of conservation policy at the Woodland Trust, said there had been "significant progress" on tree planting but that there was still "much more to do" to meet the UK's targets.

He said maintaining government funding was essential.

"Successful tree planting and ongoing management needs long-term grant support," he said.

Alex Stone, chief executive of the Forest of Avon Trust, which leads the partnership behind the Western Forest project, said there were some areas in the region that currently had only 7% of land covered by trees.

"This is about bringing those areas up so we have trees where we really need them," she said.

"What we are aiming to do with the Western Forest is get to 20% of canopy cover by 2050 and, in five priority areas, we are looking at getting above 30%."

The scheme will particularly target urban areas, including Bristol, Swindon and Gloucester.

The government said it would be putting £7.5m of public money into the forest over the next five years.

It said the project would not only help the UK's drive to net zero but would also promote economic growth and create jobs in the region.

Mary Creagh, minister for nature, said she hoped the Western Forest would also "make a huge difference" to water quality, flood resilience and to wildlife as well as bringing nature "closer to people" in the region.

But she conceded there was much more to do in order to hit England's national tree-planting target.

"I am absolutely confident that we can get to where we need to get to," she said.

"Projects like this give me hope and confidence that, with everybody pulling together, working with the public sector and the private sector, we can do it." ...

The Western Forest is the first new national forest to be designated in England in 30 years, following the creation of the original National Forest across Leicestershire, Derbyshire and Staffordshire, where 9.8m trees have been planted."

-via BBC, March 20, 2025

[alacants]

novandy headcanons?

what this ask is forcing me to do is confront how much of my conception of novandy is not my own thinking but was downloaded directly into my brain from anon bff who is the real expert here. like, i have a broad-strokes vision but i lack the minute knowledge of lore to have specific headcanons about specific events. (am i just a sentient sock puppet? maybe.)

ok my take more or less is:

for novak playing tennis against andy and then losing was frustrating in the moment but fun in the longterm. not saying that he enjoyed losing, lmao i think we're all on the same page there, but it didn't get in the way of the relationship.

for andy playing tennis against novak and then losing was very much NOT fun and very much DID get in the way of the relationship.

ever since it did novak has wanted and believed in the happy ending where they get past everything (expectations, disappointment, rivalry, interpersonal family drama, etc) and reconnect and have a special relationship again. just two old friends watching their kids play as the sun goes down.

the weight of expectation on andy—singlehandedly overcome the 77 year british men's tennis curse—was placed there by forces outside of his control.

the weight of expectation on novak—make my country proud, look after my family, make their sacrifices worth it, make my sacrifices worth it—was placed there by himself.

if as young players a magical wish-granting creature had presented novak with the chance to trade his future trophies for andy's health, there was 100% a point at which he would have made the deal, even if he later had cause to regret it. that moment passed. 

there was not a point at which andy would have made the same deal in reverse. and yet if you gave him the option of a do-over now, he wouldn't take it.

we talk a lot now about what roger's said about not wanting novak to crash the fedal lovefest. (even though—sidenote—if you ask me it took novak's ascendance to solidify the fedal lovefest, like once he was on the radar roger once and for all abandoned the dreams of glorious solitary splendor and fully embraced that rafa is GREAT rafa thinks i'm great rafa is my most special rivalfriendsituation. fuck this new kid.)

but at the time it wasn't just novak who seemed poised to do so. that is historical revisionism. in march 2009 the murray-federer h2h was 6-2. they were BOTH monster rookies and they were BOTH considered disrespectful kids with bad attitudes, and they were BOTH upsetting the established order of things, the established order where roger wins wimbledon and rafa wins roland garros and every so often they switch it up just for fun and they say all the right things about the sport and about each other and we all collectively achieve tennis nirvana.

(and at the same time they liked rafa and roger, to varying degrees, and it stung when they were written off.)

i'm just recapping bff's latest fic aren't i. well. they were right. flaps my sentient sock puppet mouth.

as far as novak is concerned, it was never supposed to be just him dethroning fedal, it was supposed to be him and andy, battling it out for all the big trophies and inheriting the mantle at the top and making the world acknowledge them. reality went differently and novak is still mad about it.

at some point, when you are mad enough that you can't have the thing you want, you might as well burn the rest of the world down instead. 

to this day novak really thinks of the two of them together on the same level! god this gets me so good every fucking time. #1 andy murray truther, i said before, and this is not a headcanon it's fact. "andy's the greatest returner i've ever played" is?? he???? and i'm saying that as a big 4 believer! (someday everyone who refers to the big 3 era is going to wake up locked in an interrogation room while novak explains his passions to them.)

i would love to know how much of current day novak believes that if he repeats this aloud often enough he will get that happy ending. 

PRIOR TO NOVEMBER 23 I WOULD HAVE SAID IT WASN'T GOING TO HAPPEN albeit mostly due to non-tennis reasons. i'm team kim.

but just when you think you've got it figured out, trust ultimate self-made cyborg-villain-hero-monster novak djokovic to knock over the table.

i genuinely have no fucking clue what's going to happen in australia.

[sillyteecup]

It's Always Been About Love And Hate (Now Let Me Say I'm The Biggest Hater): 0.0

Terry Richmond x black!o.c

PROLOGUE

Warnings:

18+

Swearing/cursing

Mentions of trauma

Mention of an anxiety attack

A minor panic attack

Mentions of mental health issues

Alcohol and cannabis use

Smut

Unprotected sex (one condom-one round bathong🧍🏾)

Inebriated decision making

Mention of violence

Age gap (about 9 years)

Word count: 5798🧍🏾‍♀️

Taglist: @rose-bliss

A.N: I don't do summaries, but what I can do is ask Alexa to play Bad Decisions by Ariana Grande, because wow !!🧍🏾 Anyway, here's the prologue and the only chapter I can give for the next two weeks because education. Also, let me know if you wanna be on the taglist. I wanna thank you all for staying patient and engaging, and I really hope you guys enjoy this❤️

~Tee❤️

The bass of ‘Little foot’ by Childish Gambino blasted through the heavy speakers in Sloane twins’ apartment, serving as a backing track to the equally loud chatter among Jazz, her twin Zuri, and their visitor, and favorite cousin as she called herself, Andy. Different perfume scents mixed with the pungent smell of the O.G kush the trio had just blown through defined the thick atmosphere in the Atlanta 2-bedroom. Paired with the heater fanned through their air conditioning, it all kept the apartment relatively warm; something that was necessary during the brutal winter air outside that clocked in at about 42°F or 5°C depending on how you read temperature.

Yet despite the unforgiving New Year's Eve cold, the girls still ran around the apartment seeking each other's validation on the most revealing outfits they could put together. An exclusive VIP-esque club out in Buckhead was hosting a themed NYE party that Jazz had pulled some strings to get them into (she was dating the owner).

The theme was pretty basic: ladies in black and fellas in white. But basic be damned, the twins insisted that they had to show out. 

Andy had been skeptical at first as she had an intense hatred for being cold, but Jazz had reassured her that Space had heated walls, and it probably would be full, so even with all the dancing, sweaty bodies around them, there was no chance of her even feeling a slight breeze. Something that awoke a whole new concern in Andy. 

Jazz finished getting ready a few minutes ago and was painting her toenails on one of the living room couches. Andy, although fully dressed, was still fussing over her hair in the bathroom. Zuri, on the other hand, seemed to be trapped in the cycle of walking in and out of the living room holding hangers with outfits on them, not able to decide which one they wanted to wear. The constant “What about this one” questions coupled with a new outfit every 5 minutes grew tiresome as the clock ticked, indicating their limited time. 

“Girl I need you to pick something as in last year because I told Andre we'd be there by 9 latest, and I need us to be out of here by 8 before the traffic becomes unbearable,” Jazz scolded Zuri loud enough for Andy to hear, while she finished her last minute pedicure. 

Andy checked her smart watch. 18:38. Knowing how long Zuri took to put her makeup on, the time they had left was definitely not enough. 

“Yeah I doubt we'll be out of here before 9,” Andy called back before returning her attention to the mirror. Honestly, a half up-do was the best she could come up with. Especially with this damn custom wig. 

“We? Bitch uh-uh, when that clock hits 19:45, I am leaving with or without the two of you and yall slow asses are gonna have to figure out how to get your damn selves there,” Jazz yelled, all while waving the little nail paint brush in her hand. Andy grimaced at the idea of Jazz taking the only car and leaving them there to Uber or Lyft, and that was gonna be even harder than sitting through traffic since there probably wouldn't be any drivers left. 

Zuri pouted, still unsure of what to wear. “Jazzy, yo ass ain't being very helpful right now,” she complained, waving the clothes that dangled from the hanger. 

“And yo ass ain't being very time sensitive for someone that just heard me threaten to leave 'em behind,” Jazz deadpanned, not bothering to look up at her twin who remained in place staring at her expectantly. 

Feeling Zuri’s glare, Jazz sighed, briefly turning her focus to them. “Why don't you put on that faux fur dress you got back in June? I've only seen you wear it once since you got it,” she suggested sincerely. 

Zuri’s face however, scrunched up at the idea of repeating a dress in a club full of people that had probably already seen it on her Instagram or at their ex’s party the first time they wore it. 

“Oh…really?”

In a flash, any sympathy Zuri held for her twin's predicament evaporated. “Bitch if you don't get your grown ass the fuck up out my face and pick something to fucking wear-” she snapped, causing Zuri to throw  hands out in surrender and retreat back into their room. 

Satisfied with her hair, Andy quickly did her lip combo with concealer, a brown liner and topped off with her new vanilla lip gloss. She spritzed some of Jazz’s YSL Black Opium having forgotten her own perfume in her father's-well, basically her apartment. She gathered her stuff and shoved it all into the large carrier bag she had brought with her and made her way into the living room, sitting on the couch next Jazz. 

“Okay, get it South Side! Ohh, bitch you look NICE!” Jazz exclaimed when she saw Andy's look for the night. 

Andy giggled at the nickname and compliment, feigning shyness and tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear. “Oh my God thank you baby. You're too kind, too, too kind,” Andy said, sticking her tongue out through her teeth. 

“Like if we wasn't cousins? Mmm!” Jazz joked, causing Andy to playfully bite her lip. 

The playful back and forth shifted into a conversation about their personal lives. Andy and the twins had an annual tradition of seeing each other every year for 10 days in each other's countries or cities. Since neither of them had a relatively healthy relationship with their parents or the rest of their family for that matter, they would just spend Christmas and New Years together. However, since Jazz had taken a job with the U.S Navy as a Naval engineer, she had only spent time with her two favorite people twice: Christmas and Today. 

“Don't get me wrong, I love my job. Ten year old me would be foaming at the mouth if she knew. It's just…It's so-” Jazz paused to sigh. “It's too Sloane of me,” she finally managed to say. 

Andy frowned, turning her phone off and putting it down. “Is that what you think, or would that be your second brain that's currently in their bedroom taking too long to get ready?” she asked. 

“Little bit of both if I'm being honest. Zuzu hates it. They won't say it, but I see it in their eyes whenever I talk about work. You know, the first time I tried on my uniform I had to rush them to the ER about 5 minutes later because they were having an anxiety attack and it didn't show signs of both stopping,” Jazz explained, the sadness making an occasional appearance as cracks in her voice. 

“Jasper…”

“When medics took them inside for an assessment, I couldn't help but break down myself. Flashbacks of our momma telling us how much Zuzu I looked like her while I looked like our-like Zach. I saw it when I looked at the mirror that day, especially in that uniform. Zuzu probably saw that devil himself that day. I couldn't help but feel like it was my fault…” Jazz trailed off, a few stray tears falling down her cheeks, prompting Andy to pull her into a hug. 

“Hey, hey, listen to me. You didn't do it on purpose. You didn't put on that uniform to hurt Zuri. Yeah, you're both right, you being in the Navy was probably the most “Sloane” thing you could ever do. But it's also your dream. That's probably why Zuri hasn't said anything negative to you about it,” Andy reassured her cousin, rubbing circles into her back. 

Seeing Jazz cry and hearing about the shared pain with Zuri broke Andy's heart. She absolutely adored the twins. Two years older than her, sometimes they were inspirations to her, other times cautionary tales, either way, the only people in her dad's family that she loved…the only people she could stand too. While Zuri was the one that taught her to stand firm in her beliefs and not take shit from anyone, Jazz taught her to work non-stop for what she wanted and to aim for beyond the stars. Outside of her mom, they were the closest things she had to guardian figures. If only they had that for themselves instead of the shitty excuses for sperm and egg donors they got. 

“I know, but it's so hard living with myself knowing that I'm the spitting image of the man that hurt them the most. And that me in that uniform I worked so hard for, had a violent effect on them,” Jazz cried while carefully trying to wipe her tears without messing with her makeup. 

“I wish you'd stop blaming yourself for that day,” they heard Zuri speak from next to the wall at the start of the hallway. 

“Jazzy I ain't gon' tell you again, you are not responsible for what that asshole did to me. None of this is your fault. Same way me looking like his ain't-shit wife isn't the reason why you're in therapy undoing 23 years of abuse. Now tighten up ho, ‘cause tonight we finna cut the fuck up and forget about our problems till the 2nd,” Zuri said as she moved to hug Jazz. 

“Yeah you right…it's almost 8 so we gotta head out anyway,” Jazz said, separating from her twin's embrace and wiping her tears. 

Andy, however, aware of her cousins’ inability to fully open up to one another due to their fractured relationship, moved from her spot to sit in between the twins and pull them back into a group hug, making them both squeal. “Nope, André and getting sloshed can wait. You two have some serious talking to do, so we're all gonna sit here and feel shit or whatever,” Andy declared, earning complaints from her cousins. 

With an eye roll, she pulled out a rather sneaky hail Mary. One they would never be able to resist. 

“I'll take yall out for breakfast till I leave for SA,” she sighed. 

The twins exchanged a glance, silently discussing whether or not they would take the deal as is, or take advantage of it by negotiating even more. The latter was a very dangerous game though. And yet they were somewhat willing to play. 

“Throw lunch in there and you've got yourself a therapy session,” Zuri said as she offered her hand out for a hand shake. 

Andy pursed her lips, considering the negotiation. She loved her cousins to death, but sacrificing her bank account for them was just…

“Fine. But I better see a big ass breakthrough and some tears.”

As a relatively small DJ for hire and bonafide party girl, clubs were a common theme in Andy's life. From the smaller underground venues with an intake of 50 people max, to skyline rooftops with gorgeous views, Andy had seen it all. She had come to regard the vast scene as a second home; a sanctuary. 

And although it was her first time there, Space was no different. 

From the bass thumping life into her soles, to the crimson lighting and the accompanying fog, the warm air that emanated a mix of the various colognes and perfumes along with the common sweat, and the bodies in every crevice of the room moving against one another to the blaring music. 

As the trio was ushered to the VIP section by a bouncer, the atmosphere washed Andy clean of any heavy weight she had on her shoulders. Even though her heart ached for the booth, she was elated all the same. Zuri, ever so nonchalant, craved the rush that awaited them tonight. The year they'd had, called for a night of fun that they'd probably forget about the next morning. Jazz on the other hand was a little antsy. Not only were they late, but it was also by a whole hour. Something Andre would likely be sure to address. 

Finally reaching the section, the trio were brought to a table that was occupied by 

3 people lazily seated on the couches, only one of which she recognized as Jazz’s boyfriend from their incessant FaceTimes and her wallpaper. The other two were gorgeous, for a lack of better words. The woman whose mahogany skin glistened like a priceless treasure under the crimson glow, sized her and (mostly) Zuri up, her rich, deep brown eyes cutting through them with a captivating intensity. Her lined gloss-covered lips curved into what seemed like an approving smirk (also mostly) at Zuri as she stood up with Andre and the other man Andy did not recognize. 

“Gahdamn,” she thought to herself. The elbows to her sides by both cousins however indicated that she had in fact said it out loud. 

“Jazzy! Yall finally made it!” Andre exclaimed as he pulled Jazz into a hug that was followed by a deep kiss. While Andre’s companions seemed unfazed, Andy and Zuri cringed as the couple's tongues made brief appearances through the lustful moans and wet sounds from the sloppy kiss. Zuri’s last straw broke when Andre's hands planted themselves sharply on Jazz’s ass. 

“Okay, that, is e-fucking-nough from you two,” Zuri said as they moved to separate the couple by placing an arm in the near non-existent space between them, making the rest of the group laugh. 

Andre licked his swelling lips, his eyes still on Jazz. “What? A nigga can't kiss his girl no more?” he asked, earning a sharp glare from Zuri. 

“Not till he learns how to do it like he's got some fucking home training,” they snarked with an index finger pointed at him. 

“Okay, thank you for making me regret introducing yall,” Jazz said, interrupting the two before the bickering continued beyond return. 

“Shit, speaking of introductions. This is my cousin Deja, she visiting from Florida,” Andre said, gesturing towards the dark skinned woman that had sized them up. 

The hug between her and Andy was brief, with a quick “nice to meet you,” while the hug with Zuri was a little longer as she whispered something in their ear that made them smirk. 

“And this is my boy Terry, he just moved not too far from here.”

The moment Andy's attention shifted towards him, it had become his to keep eternally. Standing at what she estimated to be 6’2, the tawny skinned man stood at least a head above them all. His broad frame and bulky arms indicated at least 4 days of gym every week, and coupled with his height, he looked imposing. And if his godlike body wasn't enough to capture your mind, his facial features would surely do the trick. Plump and soft looking pink lips he deliciously swept his tongue over, and the well trimmed goatee around them called for Andy to try and snatch a taste by the end of the night. Glancing up at his face, they suddenly made eye contact. His green eyes glimmered with an intensity she couldn't name, daring her to dip her toe in the dark and unfamiliar waters that was him or else he would claim her for his own. Andy's gaze only darkened with a silent promise to make his conquest as difficult as possible. 

Then he took a step forward, breaking into her space. His scent, an earthy, citric  potion that invaded her senses, momentarily disarmed her. Momentarily. 

Terry took her hand and kissed the inner side of her wrist, his challenging gaze unwavering against her somewhat weaker resolve. 

“Pleasure to meet you. You gonna tell me what your name is princess?” he asked her, an undercurrent of teasing in his tone that only she could pick up on. 

“I'm not sure if you deserve to know it yet, “princess”” she retorted, stepping up to the invisible plate he put out for her. A chorus of “oohs” and chuckles sounded from the people around them; people they had even forgotten existed. 

“Oh it’s like that?” he asked teasingly.

Andy tilted her head with a smirk and shrugged, fully issuing a challenge. Terry bit his lip and nodded slowly, fully accepting. Sexyness be damned, Andy was not about to make it easy for some stranger just because they had green eyes and a killer smile. She was a prize to be won, not some courtesy medal for participation and there were no exceptions to the rule.

“Damn, I don’t think Terry’s ever encountered a girl he couldn’t bend over with a wink. You deserve an extra shot for that, girl,” Deja snickered as she lazily flung her arm over Terry’s shoulder.

Right as the words left her lips, a waitress approached the table. Kierra, as Andre called her, took their orders of 25 shots of Don Julio, 4 long islands, and his ‘usual table special’. Andy noticed the girl being extra nice and flirty with Terry, who although playing along, wasn’t really into it. Never the jealous type, especially over men she had just met, she paid them no mind, choosing instead to engage in the animated conversation that was being had around her. Andre was telling them about how he opened the club over a decade ago just to spite his parents. He was around 22 at the time and they wanted to arrange a marriage between him and a girl he had grown up with. He had come to consider a sister and she had just come out to him as lesbian. Although they had joked about it being a lavender marriage, neither of them wanted to feel tied to each other like that. 

“So I left Bel-Air for ATL and my folks didn’t like that one bit. They said if I didn’t come back they’d cut me off and I was like “aight bet”. I took what I had at the time, called up Deja ‘cause she partied here a lot and knew all the right people including Terry’s cousin, and now here we are,” Andre finished.

“Wow, that's insane, so where ole girl at now?” Zuri asked.

“She out in New York on some big time model shit. Ever heard of Briar Vance?” 

“Briar Vance is your best friend?!”

“Briar Vance is gay?!” Zuri and Andy gasped, making Andre, Deja and Terry laugh. Jazz, however, was scandalized by Zuri’s reaction, elbowing them in the side.

Jazz’s boyfriend’s best friend was the biggest model of their time, having graced every big time cover and modeled for every coveted luxury brand by the time she was 27. While Briar was Zuri’s celebrity crush. Andy’s friend group always kept up with her work. Dee, one of her best friends, absolutely adored the modelling legend, even citing her for getting into the business herself. 

“Ho, did you know?” Zuri demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at their twin to which Jazz rolled her eyes before smacking the finger out of her hand.

“Yeah, and something tells me I was on the right track with not telling you,” Jazz snarked, eliciting an exaggerated gasp from her twin.

Light banter ensued within the group as the group’s drinks arrived. Liquor was knocked back like juice and a well-known courage accompanied it. Soon everybody was on the dancefloor lost in the alcoholic daze and the hypnotic Kaytranada mix the DJ had taken to. Bodies moved in reckless abandon while keeping to the rhythm. Hands traveled from body to body in a consensual adventure of attraction among adults.

Adults being Jazz and Andre, and Zuri with Deja. Andy and Terry however were caught in a game of push-and-pull. The pair had barely exchanged a word outside of introductions and a few tidbits about their alcohol tastes. Still, the attraction was undeniable and Andy was there for a good time, not a long time. Deciding to take this stranger home was dangerous, but what else in Andy’s life was new. This tug of war; her and Terry dancing with different people despite clearly wanting to tear each other’s clothes off, fanned this temporary spark into something bigger. It had become a flame threatening to consume them both, but not for long as it was still ephemeral in its essence.

Her body ground against her decoy partner whose name she swore she’d heard. Clayton? Clive? Cleveland? Something like that. She let his palms roam over body, not allowing a single touch to linger a second longer than it needed to. Terry on the other hand clutched and gripped at whatever his pawn granted him access to. Their little performances painted different images of dominance. Andy dangled herself in Terry’s face as a treasure he couldn’t just take like he was used to, instead being someone he would have to put in some work for. Terry promised Andy that once he had her, he would twist and mold her at his will and she’d only beg for more. Their playthings had yet to figure this out as they continued to prod physically and verbally with sweet whispers of absolutely nothing and sensual touches.

They continued to ignore them however, maintaining their silent struggle for dominance over one another through defiant and determined gazes between greens and browns. Andy shuddered internally, she had never felt such a push and pull from anyone she had been with, let alone a stranger who for all she knew could be a decade older than her. She'd probably never see this man again too. Having had enough of playing from a distance, she subtly closed in on her prey, making sure to keep her starter close. Andy was confident, not arrogant. There was still a chance that things could go wrong.

“Dance with me,” she said, earning a sly grin from Terry who wordlessly accepted by taking her hand and maneuvering his way behind her. He led her to a more central part of the floor where the rest of the group had moved to as there was more space. 

Getting through the crowd was relatively easy due to Terry's intimidating stature. A threatening glance was all it took to clear space for them, never once needing to mention his relationship with the owner. Stopping right in the center of the club among their group, Terry placed his hands on Andy's waist and pulled her body flush against his. Their eyes met once again, flooded with lust and determination to make each other fold. 

Lulled into a trance by Terry's weighted gaze and the sound of Victoria Monet’s seductive voice on Alright filling the room, Andy turned around whining her waist, making sure to brush against Terry's crotch. Her hands found her knees, deepening the arch in her back as she gave the intoxicatingly handsome man behind her a show he'd never forget. She felt his hands make themselves at home on the curves of her ass, grabbing and caressing before they finally settled with a firm grip on her waist once again. 

Together they swayed with the rhythm of the music, Terry pushing against Andy with every glide of her hips. Terry hooked his arm around her abdomen and pulled her back to straighten her body. His warm breath fanned the goosebump riddled skin on her neck as she ground up against him. She heard a strained groan tear from his throat, accompanied by a tightened hold on her waist. 

“Fuck, you don't know what you're doing to me,” he rasped, his voice rough and laden with desire, making her throw her head back into his chest. 

“You wanna tell me about it, or you wanna show me instead,” Andy near-moaned without a second thought. 

A deep chuckle rumbled in his chest before he sharply pressed his groin into her ass. The thick bulge elicited a mix between an excited gasp and a wanton mewl from Andy. The pot between her thighs seemed more eager than she cared to be as drops of honey met the soft skin of her inner thighs. 

“Fuck,” she breathed out.

Her mind however was locked in a struggle between lust and control. While the two had been in tandem the whole night, she found herself wanting Terry more than she wanted to keep the reins of their game. Between how much resolve she had and the tension building in her stomach, control was becoming more and more of a concept. That didn’t mean he had to know that yet.

Suddenly wrapped around the arm she had cupping Terry’s cheek behind her. She was spun into her cousins who had separated from their dance partners. Although they weren’t too far off. The trio swayed to Xtasy be Ravyn Lenae, the mischievous grins on the twins making Andy roll her eyes.

“Someone’s having fun,” Zuri teased.

“Isn’t that what we’re here for?” Andy retorted playfully, making her cousins chuckle.

“I know that’s right! Just remember to keep it cute and safe,” Jazz quipped.

Andy clutched her chest and let her jaw slacken. “Jasper Jorah Sloane! Are you implying that I, your sweet innocent fairy cousin, will be letting some random fine ass nigga split me open and eat me up like a plate of crab legs tonight?” she gasped exaggeratedly. 

“Bitch if yo ass sweet and innocent then I must be Beyonce’s evil twin or somethin,” Jazz cackled. “I just don’t want my little South Side to have an even littler South Side yet. Your daddy may be swimming in bands and some change but Zuzu and I ain’t got “rich aunty” money yet.”

“Hoes is speaking French, talm bout “we”. Bitch I got “aunty money,” I just don’t have “aunty time” or “aunty patience,” Zuri scoffed before playfully jabbing their acrylic covered index nail at Mila. “So you better have some condoms or be on the pill, ‘else you ain’t goin’ nowhere with Mr Badu and his little green eyes,” they added, a semblance of seriousness seeping into their tone.

“Relax, I’m on the IUD way, so nobody will be getting pregnant tonight.” 

“Aight girl, have a good time and if anything seems off, call us. We’ll come running,” Jazz promised. 

“Thanks guys. I love ya’ll so much,” Andy gushed, pulling them into a group embrace.

“Girl we love you too, but these damn group hugs gotta come to an end,” Zuri groaned while the other two giggled.

“Girl fuck what grumpy smurf over there says, I hope the group hugs never stop,” Jazz said.

The trio made their way back to Deja, Andre and Terry, the latter two locked in conversation while the former continued vibing with some girls around them. Jazz cleared her throat before grabbing Andre by his chain into a kiss. While Zuri cringed, Andy caught the subtle wink Jazz sent her. She turned towards Terry whose hooded eyes were already drinking her in like a glass of hard liquor.

“I’m guessing you already know what I’m on,” he asked with a light nip of his bottom lip.

Andy tilted her head slightly, gaze not faltering as she lightly tugged at his white unbuttoned shirt. “Maybe. Depends on what that is.”

A dangerous smirk spread across his features, thumb brushing against her lips before he leaned in, stopping right before their lips could meet. Soft breaths taunted Andy, daring her to close the space. 

“You wanna tell me what your name is princess?”

“Fuck, Andy you feel so good!”

Fast, careless, and rough. The way Terry handled Andy was poetically reminiscent of the way she had gone about the night; some would say it’s how she lived her life. Andy thought it to be the perfect route to fulfillment, and in this case, the perfect speed and feel for casual sex.

“Shit Terry, fucking love how you’re fucking me..Feels so fucking good!” she moaned as he practically bruised her g-spot.

Even with the way he jackhammered in and out of her, he had managed to draw two orgasms out of her, having pounced on her the moment they got out of the cab and into her apartment. His hand had found a perfect place of rest around her throat, grip firm but not tight enough to draw breath. His animalistic glare held a shadow of emptiness to it. It matched the detached lust in Andy’s chestnut irises to a T. His other hand held one of her thighs up for easier access since he was far bigger than she could just take. He didn’t even bottom out, yet he had stretched her out so deliciously.

“Yeah? You like how I’m digging you out princess? You like this big ol’e fucking your pretty little brains out?” he growled, baring his teeth.

Although the sweater and chain had already been enough to have him fucking her against her front door and over her couch, naked Terry was a whole different story. For the unhinged god before her, Andy would have risked a whole other life for him. Perhaps if they had met under different circumstances..

“Yeah-oh go–I fucking love it baby,” she breathed out, struggling to connect a coherent thought.

Like the fickle spark between them, the way their bodies connected was chaotic. Their kisses were explosive and disjointed, their hands often getting lost and found in between them as they stumbled into the house. This jerky sequence was like a language Andy knew all too well. Fluidity was foreign to her, so this disorganized dance was more familiar to her. Even as her body began to jerk as Terry sent her crashing into another orgasm, she welcomed the violent wave that threatened to drown her.

“Give it to me baby! That’s right, cum all over this shit,” Terry grunted as he chased his own release right behind hers.

Andy’s being collapsed into a fountain of pleasure right as the fireworks began blasting through the Atlanta sky. A long year being closed out lost in a sea of self-indulgence was something her friends and cousins would call on-brand for her. Although the NYE sex was something New, Andy had become notorious amongst her loved ones for being in an inebriated daze of sorts when it was time to cross into a New Year. Upping the ante from alcohol wasn’t necessarily planned, but it was a welcomed change.

She would definitely be doing this again next year.

Soon Terry pulled out with a grunt and came over her tits before collapsing next to her. However he had only spent a second in the spot before getting up and headed towards her open bathroom. He returned holding up her magenta bath towel. Casually, he made his way towards her as if he hadn’t just fucked her silly. He quickly wiped his cum off her chest before tossing the towel over her laundry hamper. She sat up and maneuvered herself under the now stained magenta duvet. Her back against the headboard and chest partially covered by the cotton duvet, she watched Terry pick her top and his clothes up and place them neatly over the stool by her vanity. The naturality at which he moved around her space made her raise an impressed eyebrow. Even in an unfamiliar environment, his aura never shriveled into uncertainty. In fact he had practically made her space his.

“Mind if I sleep over?” he asked simply. His omission of an explanation made Andy snort inwardly.

Oh to be reincarnated as an audacious and unrealistically good looking man.

“Sure, I don’t have anything you could borrow though,” she shrugged.

Terry just smirked before climbing into her bed and settling next to her. His arm snaked around her waist, pulling in so he could plant hungry kisses on her neck eliciting an erotic moan from her.

“Something tells me that won’t be a problem.”

An incessant buzzing rang through Andy’s bedroom as her phone violently vibrated against her drawer. Andy groaned, folding her pillow around her disheveled head. She clenched her eyes shut and ground her teeth while she patiently waited for the alarm to stop.

And it did, but right as a relieved breath escaped her nostrils, the buzzing made an even more violent return, grating at Andy’s already throbbing head. Another groan escaped her aching throat as her arm stretched out to reach the offending object on her dresser. Her hand wrapped tightly around her phone, instantly hitting the power button and silencing it once more. But her reprieve was short lived when the phone buzzed once again, this time eliciting a frustrated grunt. Except it wasn’t from Andy. It sounded deeper, more masculine.

Right...

“Please answer the damn phone,” the man draped around her groaned annoyedly.

Andy’s eyebrows furrowed, wondering if it could actually be a call and not an alarm. 

“Fucking New Years,” she sighed before grabbing the phone and bringing it closer to her face.

The caller ID read as “unknown” and although she contemplated ignoring it, she figured a random stranger wouldn’t be this persistent so early in the morning. Or they could. Either way, she was getting annoyed and figured that ignoring them wouldn’t make them stop. 

“Sloane,” she mumbled tiredly.

“Andy? Fuck, Andy, it’s Jazzy…my phone died and I’ve been trying to find one that’s on-We’re at the hospital; Andre, Deja and me...Oh my God I-” Zuri rambled, their distressed tone rattling Andy into pushing Terry’s arm off her and sitting upright.

“Zuri, breathe baby. Deep breaths, come on,” Andy instructed, attempting to stop Zuri from flying into a panic attack.

Her cousin’s breaths grew shallower and shallower as they stumbled through an incoherent explanation of sorts.

“Zuzu, you’re not breathing. Stop talking and breathe, please,” Andy pleaded, growing wearier by the second. She pushed the covers off and scurried around the room in a panicked search of her pajamas.With her phone sandwiched between her ear and shoulder, she coached her cousin’s breathing, coaxing it from erratic to more controlled.

“I’m good, I’m good,” Zuri reassured through choked but settled breaths.

“You sure?” Andy asked, leaving a baffled Terry in the room to take the call in the lounge.

“Yeah, but Jazzy…” was all Zuri could get out before her words turned to choked sobs.

“Zuri, where are you?” Andy questioned softly as headed back to her bedroom to retrieve her apartment keys and ask Terry to leave.

“The ho-Emory Hospital…Andy hurry, please-”

“It’s okay Zuzu, I’ll be right there. Just give me 5 minutes okay,” Andy reassured as she grabbed her keys from her vanity.

“I need to go,” she mouthed to a still confused Terry who still immediately got the message and rolled off her bed to get dressed.

“Andy please, please hurry, Jazzy she-” Zuri was cut off by a hiccup, but before Andy could tell them to save it for when she got to the hospital, Zuri spoke again.

“Andy, Jazzy’s been shot.”

[ofmdrecaps]

09/02-03/2024 Daily OFMD Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins; Rhys Darby; Taika Waititi; Samba Schutte; Con O'Neill; Kristian Nairn; Nathan Foad; Leslie Jones; Lindsey Cantrell; Connor Barrett; Dominic Burgess; Sept 2: OFMD Marmalade Day; Trends; Articles; TellTaleTV Final Round; WWDITS 10th Anniversary Blurays; FanSpotlight: FanWeeks: OFMD Sequel Week; Stede Whump Week; Never Left Podcast; Love Notes;

== David Jenkins ==

David's out at the US Open with Kinga!

Source: David Jenkins' Instagram Stories

== Rhys Darby ==

Rhys is EVERYWHERE this week, jeez. He really is causing a stir on every single platform, let me tell you. Below he's having a bit of a drink with some friends, out and about with Rosie!

Source: Facebook

Next up-- there's a new Indy Dramedy that just wrapped called "Song Of The Bigfoot" and Deadline has some new info on it!

Source: Rhys' Instagram Stories

Rhys is also looking to help raise some funds for the Kitten Rescue we all remember well from earlier this year! You can bid on this signed OFMD picture of the cast! To bid, visit here.

Source: Rhys' Twitter

Rhys also shared an older video of him discussing wanting to be Earths Ambassador!

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by 10,000 Dreams x Fraser Grut (@frasergrut)

Source: Rhys Darby's Instagram

Annnnnd more shots are becoming available from the 100th episode of the Cryptid Factor, Live in London!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Instagram

And finally, Last But CERTAINLY not least, there's a new The Cryptid Factor special episode for the $10 / Tier on Patreon!

Source: The Cryptid Factor Patreon

== Taika Waititi ==

Some more shots of Taika while he was out and about! Also a recipe for the Pispili that he and Andy Hearnden shared on instagram a while back!

Source: Instagram

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Andy Cooks (@andyhearnden)

and lastly a quick little tiktok of the Forever Young Rita & Taika!

Source: Rita Ora's Tiktok

== Samba Schutte ==

Samba's out at Nickelodeon studios doing some voice over work!

Source: Samba's Instagram

== Kristian Nairn / WJW ==

Surprise #WeeJohnWednesday! 9pm BST (4pm EST, 1pm PST) tomorrow-- Sept 4!

Source: Kristian's Twitter

A huge thank you to @adoptourcrew for getting us the Kristian Nairn OFMD blurb from the latest Popverse Article (it is behind a sign up, but here's the article!)

Source: Adopt Our Crew Twitter

== Con O'Neill ==

Con taking a nap with Cooper now that he's back from Mexico <3 (and David Fane was a sweetheart and popped his head in as well).

Source: Con's Instagram

== Nathan Foad ==

Nathan back at the bedroom selfies again!

Source: Nathan's Instagram Stories

== Linds Cantrell ==

Linds Cantrell did an Ask Me Anything on Instagram today while she was waiting for a plane! She answered several questions, including something regarding OFMD BTS which may be completely out, but she'll be going to LA Comic Con in October! I'm planning on making a post with all her answers when I get a moment, but here's a few!

Source: Lindsey Cantrell's Instagram Stories

== Leslie Jones ==

Leslie is out here rocking a workout, and looking bad ass <3

View this post on Instagram

A post shared by Leslie Jones (@lesdogggg)

Source: Leslie Jones Instagram

== Dominic Burgess ==

Our dear Jeffrey Fettering, Dominic, blessed us today with some kitties as well as a shot.. of well him getting a shot!

Source: Dominic's Twitter

== September 2, Marmalade Day ==

Several of our crew members continued the September festivities with Marmalade Day on Sept 2!

Source: HSavernake's Twitter

Source: Astroglide Twitter

== Articles ==

Thank you @adoptourcrew for sharing another article talking about OFMD!

Source: Adopt Our Crew's Twitter

== More Trends ==

Heyyy guess who was trending on Sept 2 on TUMBLR! (I believe it was because of the Sept 1 Dickfuck/Lighthouse day, but could be have been more! let me know if you know something else happened! Thank you to the badass @poison-into-positivity for catching it <3

Source: @poison-into-positivity's Tumblr

== Tell Tale TV Voting Reminders ==

Reminder! Stede and Ed are in the final round of Ship of the Year! Please visit TellTale TV! Thank you @ofmd-ann for the reminder dear!

Source: Ofmd-Ann's Tumblr

== What We Do In The Shadows Bluray ==

Okay so WWDITS is not OFMD but it has Rhys and Taika so gonna send a boost out of this! Thank you to the absolutely spectacular @ jimjim531969 over on twitter for always bringing the latest cool news regarding the cast. You truly are a gem <3

Also per Jim:

Links to pre-order the WWDITS 10th anniversary blu-ray:

Australia & NZ (16 October, 2024)

USA & Canada (November 1st, 2024): Amazon or Barnes & Noble

UK (01/11/2024)

Source: @ jimjim531969 on Twitter

== Fan Spotlight ==

= Upcoming Fan Weeks =

* OFMD Sequel Week *

There's a new Fan-Week been announced for Nov 17 - 23, OFMD Sequel Week! Check them out on Twitter and give them a follow to keep up with the latest news!

Source: OFMDSequelWeek Twitter

* Stede Whump Week *

Stede Whump Week will be happening 28 Oct - 3rd Nov, and the bingo cards for that week are now available on Twitter!

Source: Stede Whump Week Twitter

= Never Left Podcast =

There's a new episode of Never Left out, and it's Part 2 of the discussion on Birds! Wanna check it out? Visit their linktr.ee!

Source: Never Left Podcast Instagram

== Love Notes ==

Hey lovelies. Hoping your week is progressing in an upward direction. I hopefully get to finally talk to my dad tomorrow after over a week of everything going on, so I'll be in and out of things again. I know everyone is dealing with their own level of craziness right now, and I want to remind you that you're doing great no matter what you're dealing with. It could be little, it could be huge, it could be life-changing, or could be making you regress further back than you'd like-- whatever it is, you are getting through the best way you can, and you never have to feel bad about that.

I know it can feel like there's never an end to the chaos-- but remember that there are pockets of joy and love there in this life too, and however you need to cope with your daily struggles, don't feel bad in taking solace in that. Enjoy the little things, no matter how small. Rest up lovelies, breathe in, breathe out, drink some water, and keep going. Below is a very appropriate love note (for me personally but for so many others as well), courtesy of the amazing The Latest Kate. Not everything is clear right now, but it'll get there, just stay with us, and don't give up. Sending you so much love, crew <3

Source: The Latest Kate's Tumblr

[tickldpnk8]

Thanks for the tag @marlowe-zara ! It’s long past due for a tag game update over here.

Last song: Steal the Show by Lauv (honorable mention for the kid getting into real music), Rushmere by Mumford and Sons

Favorite Color: always purple

Last Book: Little Thieves by Margaret Owen, it was a cute modern take on a fairy tale for YA audiences. I enjoyed the in-universe mythology and magic. Currently reading Everyone in my Family Has Killed Someone by Benjamin Stevenson

Last Audiobook: I like this addition as I often listen to books on roadtrips or when printmaking. My latest was The Hobbit read by Andy Serkis: he did such an excellent job on the voices like you would expect. (His Gandalf really made me double check if Ian McClellan had done a guest appearance!)

Last Movie: LotR The Two Towers EE (who even watches the theatrical cuts??) Can you see a theme here? It’s winter, so I’m getting cozy with my comfort fandom. And yes, I started with Fellowship.

Last TV Show: Finally finishing The Good Place

Sweet/Savory/Spicy: I’ve never turned good food down. But am lately very fond of making sourdough discard chocolate chip cookies that have butterfinger baking bits in them. Happy to share the recipe if folks ask.

Relationship: um…still in one?

Last Thing I’ve Googled: I’m over here googling birthday ideas for the kiddo and researching new bathroom cabinets. 😳

Current Obsession: The Fall with Lee Pace and Catinca Untaru. I was finally able to stream this on Mubi in the US and if you’ve never seen it, please pause your doom scrolling and go watch it right now. I sobbed on an airplane. And then immediately watched it again later in the week. And then immediately added all of the set locations to my travel list. I miss Lee Pace: he needs more roles because he’s such an incredible actor.

Looking forward to: using my new bread cloche the next time I make a sourdough loaf, finishing Link’s Awakening finally and reading Democracy in Retrograde to brace myself for the next 4 years.

I’ll tag @windsweptinred @bobbole @elemen @writing-for-life and whoever else wants to share what they’ve been up to lately!

[lovebillyhargrove]

I made it longer

***

Steve likes throwing a bone to that loud, obnoxious, attention-guzzling motherfucker.

Who – right on the threshold of Hawkins High – impudently crossed swords with its king himself.

The fucking impostor.

The nerve he possesses. Huh.

Too cocksure.

We'll see.

And it absolutely doesn't matter that Steve gave up the throne on his own volition, and has taken on the role of honourable knight protecting the innocent inhabitants of his quiet town from one horrific death-spewing dragon.

Blood is a complex thing, you can't change the structure, you can't dilute the essence, can't rewrite the biochemistry.

Steve was born

King.

Hargrove? .. The buffoon takes too much upon himself. Trying to bite off more than he can swallow.

That's why Steve isn't above having a little fun, cause Billy just looks like a tirelessly-jumping-around cheeky fleabag that's lost its home. And direction.

A few bones – and the dog, whining and obediently wagging its tail, is going to willingly put itself on a chain.

Watch and learn, kiddos, commoners and the such.

A subtle look, thrown at the best basketball player Hawkins High school gym has seen so far, when they are rubbing at their own armpits after another game of push-and-push on the basketball court,

Catching a glimpse of tiny streams flowing over that smooth Californian-sun-kissed, salt polished skin so mesmerisingly gently, while at it. It's spellbinding, a slightly magical ritual.

Witching.

However, the shower is over-crowded and guys – Tommy, Andy, Bryan, whothefuckever – immediately break this exchange of attraction, disperse the accumulation of colliding particles with a wild guffaw or a dumb joke, or just a loud discussion of the game or the latest/upcoming party.

Harrington doesn't mind.

The look has reached its target, because Hargrove is staring back, for a very long time, Steve's skin feels his starving eyes, they scratch, they claw at it.

Gosh. Let Billy, as best he can, hide his hunger, masking it under insolence or curtaining it with luxurious eyelashes –

Steve is not an ignorant fool.

He is able to read the situation perfectly well.

At times Steve can shamelessly ogle Billy's cranberry lips that promise the imminent arrival of summer and its pleasures,

And generously allow Hargrove to see that he is staring.

For a whole few seconds.

Steve's keeping his eyes on the lips, but not too much, the game must come in moderation, because having just raised a foot over the line, there is always enough common sense to put it back – on solid ground,

And Steve looks away, still having noticed Hargrove's blown out pupils.

His sparkling gaze, bursting in wild fountains,

Scattering like fireworks, falling on Harrington's naked skin, sending a rush of tickling goosebumps, having him on pins and needles.

They burn like laser, these cold-blue eyes.

And it's even a bit tinglingly pleasant, feverishly exciting.

It's there, Steve's not gonna deny it. But.

He doesn't care about the new guy, doesn't want or need anything from him. Billy could disappear the next second, and Steve wouldn't notice.

He's not interested in Hargrove. Nah. The guy just bugs him, that's all. A show off, who should be put back in his place, that's right, at the doghouse.

However, throwing a bone is fun. Why not yield to harmless temptation?

It's never a bad idea to casually slide his tongue over the lower lip when Harrington feels the fiery ice of Billy's eyes on him.

Slightly biting his lip or thoughtfully running his finger over it, reading a textbook or looking at the blackboard in class.

Steve absent-mindedly strokes his shiny, expertly styled hair, casually throwing strands behind his ears.

Smiling at Nicole, flirt levels soaring, raising his eyebrows with interest in response to what the girl, who is simply swooning from talking to him, is saying.

Steve knows that Hargrove is watching them like a hawk, and is scraping the iron of the locker with his claws in helpless anger.

He knows, and smirks to himself, cause the guy is so obvious, it's pathetic.

Then Harrington slightly caresses his chin. Let Billy appreciate – once again – how perfect the cut is, how finely honed his jaw is,

How he, Steve Harrington, is wholly handsome, impeccable. Superb.

He knows all the tricks by heart, has learnt this particular chapter in the textbook word for word. However, most likely, he has a god-given gift, it's not from hard work at all, oh no.

It comes naturally.

An innate talent.

And now is the time to apply these skills to practice. Lately, Steve has become somehow .. discontented with life. He and Nancy broke up, now and then his buried passion tortures him with the sadness of unfulfilled dreams, a new girlfriend is not in sight.

Of course, he communicates with all the prime ladies of Hawkins High, but no one attracts him so .. Well, no-one has been able to send a light electric shock at his frequency yet.

Steve is feeling kinda low, his parents are either absent from home, or they are tirelessly pestering him about future matters, there is no third option.

The Upside Down seems to have fallen inactive for the time being, and the whole city is covered with a cold blanket of snow, everything, including all sounds, has become quieter, more muffled.

Except for Hargrove who never shuts up, always broadcasting some shit in the gym with his loud, thunderous voice,

The dude really gets on Steve's nerves, constantly running his mouth,

Driving his predatory-looking car like he stole it, tires squealing on ice in the school parking lot, breaking the usual, measured silence.

Harrington involuntarily responds to the volume, chooses flashy colors to wear, not too bright, of course, vulgar taste and Steve Harrington are two absolutely incompatible notions.

He wears clothes that make him stand out, make him feel even more confident,

And today a thin jumper of noble red color, which clings to his lean body just right, achieves the goal.

Harrington looks incredibly good.

Day after day, effortlessly, in a breeze.

Red captures attention, Steve knows from his own experience, remembers how Billy's half-unbuttoned dark crimson shirt caught his eye –

That late evening, when he and the team of teenage monster-hunters were freezing the demodog in Joyce's fridge.

He shouldn't have behaved like that at the Byers'. And he's not even talking about outright lies now,

He shouldn't have .. oh god, Harrington could make a whole list of those things.

He shouldn't have playfully put his hand on his hip, with a very strange accompanying line

"Don't cream your pants."

A very unambiguous phrase, why on earth, where from, how did it even escape his mouth ..?

There's nothing but ambiguity between them.

He shouldn't have kept his gaze on Hargrove's lips for so long

Damn, too long. Anyone would have thought that something extremely fishy was going on there.

Oh, and at the same time talk crap of the highest quality.

There was no need for Steve to poke Hargrove's firm chest with his fingers, and do it .. so slowly, so ..

Lustily, with an unidentified current to the gesture,

Spelling it out for the guy

"Get. Out."

Billy was only looking for his underage step-sister that night.

Harrington arranged an all-inclusive ride of hospitality and friendliness for him, right on the spot – a white-threaded lie, so fucking easy to see through, confusing remarks, humiliation, a passionate fight.

After all the fun ended, Steve's head ached for a week.

Fucking asshole with fists that weigh a ton each.

Harrington knows perfectly well that he will not get an apology, and he himself is not going to offer one.

What for?

There is no need for this, cause instead of a dialogue he can

Pull Hargrove, like a taut string,

He's so responsive to Harrington's little manipulations,

Catches fire in a twinkle.

A bit more – and the guy will definitely snap.

Steve is eager to help. He can sprawl on a chair in the classroom, leisurely spreading his legs,

For some reason, Billy fidgets throughout the entire class, drops pencils and notebooks and spends a suspiciously large amount of time under the desk.

No one keeps Harrington from touching his own wrists, pensively twisting the strap of his watch. On the wrists – there is soft skin with blue veins, an erogenous zone, revealing this part of the body, Steve himself gets a bit high and aroused.

His watchful eyes never miss how Hargrove often stares at his neck. Like a vampire. The dude's apparently drawn to tender places.

If Steve is all attention in conversations with the girls, he shows zero interest in Billy, why grace an empty space, that only barks and annoys, with it.

He passes Hargrove in the lunch hall, focused on the contents of his tray, but it is too crowded here,

And no one will notice an accidental light touch

Shoulder to shoulder,

No one – except for the two of them.

It can go two ways – Billy can either push back and snarl something in return, or

Relish.

Sometimes Harrington is not averse to tempting Hargrove with a milk-bone, a too transparent hint – touching his own body so that the guy imagines that he is the one actually doing it –

In the school showers under the pouring water, Steve runs his palm over his chest, deliberately teasingly sliding his fingers over the nipples, the wet skin, collecting droplets,

Billy notices all the little things, reads the signals,

Lingers there, waiting, turning to ash, black with desire.

He is so greedy. So easy. It's fun to see him choke on the tiniest crumb.

A slight alluring smile curving at the corners of Steve's mouth, like a snake, has the power of sending the boy into a fit.

Harrington does hear

A loud growl,

A fist hitting the iron of the locker,

A rude

"Get lost, Hagan! Not fucking now, I'm fucking busy!"

Steve's ears clearly catch

The powerless grinding of the guy's pearly-white teeth.

The sound of him ferociously digging ground with his paws.

When there's an inevitable, but a small confrontation, Harrington is not above playing dirty. Not throwing a bone, but stepping on Hargrove's bones instead, and listening to them crack – just like the guy's thin patience – anticipating the break. The seams are gonna rip, and it will be

Entertaining to watch.

Steve has put Hargrove on survival mode and is indifferently waiting for the moment when Billy can no longer stand it, breaks down, snaps and

Starts to sort things out.

However, not with blind rage, no.

And not by butting heads on the basketball court.

In a different way.

And then, jokingly and not thinking too much about it, Steve will break him over his knee, like a dry branch, throw the useless thing aside.

He will put an end to such a captivating game, and forever forget about it.

***

Only, after everything happens in Starcourt, Steve suddenly can't seem to be quite good at forgetting,

Losing sleep, turning everything in his head, over and over, driving himself insane and

Waiting ..?

For it to be a fairy-tale with a happy ending. The ending he would've written.

[llorom4nn1c]

♡ Things emos never say! ♡

This is inspired by ItsBlackFriday's video, 'Things Goths Never Say.' You can watch her original video here!

🎀 Andy Biersack is so ugly

🎀 Dahvie Vanity has the voice of an angel

🎀 Dying Is Your Latest Fashion is the worst Escape The Fate album

🎀 I hate Josh Farro's guitar solos

🎀 Falling In Reverse's new music is so much better than their older stuff.

🎀 It's just a phase, mom

🎀 I should get a belt in my size

🎀 I wish Tripp pants were more expensive

🎀 I'm so glad that most of Abbey Dawn's catalogue is discontinued

🎀 I think Denis Stoff is a really nice guy who just happens to be a really bad vocalist who makes really bad music.

🎀 Machine Gun Kelly made pop punk

🎀 Kellin Quinn looks so much better with short hair

🎀 Mikey Way is really good at making bread

🎀 My favourite holiday is March 22nd

🎀 Mikey Way should never bring back his Revenge era hair style

🎀 New Hot Topic >>> Old Hot Topic

🎀 Ryan Ross is not the greatest poet of all time

🎀 The American Football house is the last place I'd ever want to go

🎀 Yungblud's music is very good and original

🎀 Why would anyone want to dye their hair like Hayley Williams?

That's it, byeeee!!! ˚｡⋆୨୧˚♡