#Because I had some pepperoni in the refrigerator

[trivialbob]

This turned out well.

Home Run Inn is my favorite frozen pizza brand. It's also the most expensive ($10.49) pizza at the grocery store and never goes on sale like other brands. The stores by my house only carry sausage or pepperoni HRI pizzas.

The other day I went to Walmart instead of my preferred grocery store. I had been in the mood to shop somewhere besides my usual Cub or Lunds&Byerlys. There’s Target too, but it doesn’t appeal to me as much as the first two stores.

The Walmart I chose is chaotic, messy, and crowded. There's always a squad car parked near the front door. I felt up for an adventure.

Walmart had the HRI pizzas for $6.49. Holy cow! Prices on other things were pretty nice compared to Cub. V8 juice at Cub is $4.89, but was $4.00 at Walmart.

Walmart also carries the cheese HRI. Which is what brings me to today's blog post.

Some time ago I got on the HRI email list. Occasionally the company sends out "recipes." I put the word in quotes because they don’t show how to make a HRI pizza from scratch. What it is though is more along the lines of what I like to do if I’m not feeling ambitious.

HRI suggests different toppings to place on the cheese pizza. Not the typical things you find at Dominos, but unusual or uncommon ingredients. The recipes are easy, says the guy making dinner by placing a frozen disk into a toaster oven.

This one is Mexican Street Corn pizza. I had all the topping ingredients on hand already. The directions are simple. The results were delicious. I'm going to have to try some of HRI's other "recipes."

[try-set-me-on-fire]

38 for the soft fic prompts: giving or saving for the other because they know they haven’t had a chance to eat anything and they don’t want them to be hungry

Filing this one under “takeout” for list checking purposes. Soft prompts! Finished ones here!

“Oh those aren’t- that’s probably not good anymore.”

Buck turns a little away from the cool of the fridge, dim sum takeout box in his hand. “When’d you get ‘em?”

Eddie shrugs, and comes to stand next to him to look in at the other containers. There's half a tub of saag paneer, some pad see ew, a couple of slices of pizza in a ziplock bag. "The… I think the pizza might be ok. That was only from the other night."

Buck grins at him as he takes out all the leftovers and sets them on the counter to be ferried to the trash. "I'm in a coma for just a few days and you and Chris order out every night, I see how it is." He paws through everything, and agrees with Eddie’s assessment that much of it is past wise consumption. “What groceries do you have, I’ll make something-“

The words evaporate somewhere in his throat when he looks at Eddie again, sees the stricken expression he’s trying to smooth off his face. Eddie blinks at the eye contact and clears his throat. “Uh, not sure… sandwich stuff, eggs, pasta. Not- I went to the store a few days ago, I should probably...” Eddie opens the fridge again, stares into it at an angle Buck thinks is meant to hide his face. “You can use anything. But you don’t have to cook, Buck, we can just order something again.”

“Eds, I ate hospital food for days and then when I got home Maddie glared at me if I so much as looked at a spatula. I would love to cook something myself.” He makes his tone joking, pleasant, carefully watching Eddie’s unfocused gaze and tight grip on the refrigerator door. “Come on, you’re letting the penguins out.” He kicks the door very lightly and Eddie huffs something sort of close to a laugh and shuts it.

Buck fishes the rice cooker out of its usual cabinet and sets it up, and rearranges pans on the stove, trying to create noise and clatter and some sense of normalcy. Eddie leans against the fridge and watches him, looking settled and unsettled. When Buck gets back to the old takeout and moves to toss it all, Eddie’s hand comes up for a second before jerking back down to his side. Buck drums his fingers on the counter next to a fallen, kind of funky piece of pepperoni for a moment before crossing his arms and walking close to Eddie. The kitchen isn't that big, and his legs are long, so it only takes two steps.

“You can keep all that if you want but your fridge is gonna get pretty gross.” He tries to make eye contact but Eddie is resolutely staring somewhere around the tattoo on Buck’s forearm as he sighs and shakes his head.

“No, throw it out, I’m- being dumb. You were in the hospital- I’m being dumb.”

“Not sure how those things are connected.”

“What?” Eddie looks at him, finally, an eyebrow raised.

“I was in the hospital, you’ve got a lot of sentimentally valuable takeout, you’re dumb.” Eddie makes a pouty little face on instinct, and Buck grins for a moment. “Come on, I missed a lot, connect the dots for me.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Well then I’m not gonna share the fried rice,” Buck says, something they both know is an absolutely empty threat. But neither of them can really deny the other, so they have a little staring contest that doesn’t last all that long before Eddie relents with a sigh.

His hand comes up to curl in the air around Buck’s elbow, centimeters from actually touching his skin but still perfectly in the shape of it. “I thought-“ he shakes his head, squinting out at the dimly lit room. “I thought you might be hungry. If I- if there was food you would-“ his index finger barely brushes Buck’s arm and his whole hand flinches back to a safe distance that Buck more than anything wants him to close. “If we had leftovers you’d come home and eat them.”

“I’m home now.” Buck can just feel the warmth of Eddie’s hand, even with the space between them.

“Yeah,” Eddie whispers.

“I’ll eat your nasty pizza if you want.”

Eddie snorts and the motion of his body brings his hand into contact again, and Buck thinks it makes them both sigh in relief. “Don’t. You’ll have to go right back to the hospital. Then I’ll land in the bed next to you because Maddie will do me grievous bodily harm.”

“In bed next to me, huh?”

“Jesus,” Eddie laughs, looking past him towards the stove, or the window maybe. “You’re not smooth, Buckley.” He doesn’t take his hand away. Buck thinks this is a dance they’d started at Hen and Karen’s vow renewal, or maybe five years ago in the back of an ambulance. Eddie’s smiling a little now but he still looks worried, and tired, and Buck silently promises to find ways to apologize for interrupting their footwork by leaving him here alone, even if just for a few minutes. Fried rice, a shared meal, the comfort of Buck and Eddie together in a kitchen so familiar to them, seems as good a place as any to start. Eddie’s hand travels up Buck’s arm to rest on his neck. “You’ll stay after dinner?”

Buck glances at the clock. “Pretty late, Eds. This is probably more of a midnight snack.”

“Buck.”

“I’ll stay,” Buck says, a little more hushed than he intended, but maybe it’s the right tone for the gravity of the promise. “After breakfast and lunch, too, if you’ll have me.”

“Of course,” Eddie says, just as quiet, just as serious, but smiling again and brushing the tips of his fingers through the hair at the nape of Buck’s neck. “Any time. Always.”

[raid3r-r4bbit]

I cant tag you for some reason @acesatyr but I have typed all this up. I will get to fishing and foraging at some point, But this was already really long, lol.

I had originally written this in another word doc and realized I had typed over six paragraphs about seeds and germination alone. I really like farming.

Overall, this is mostly the generic info; I can detail or explain anything in depth, but I’m summarizing the important stuff, and the details are easily researchable. :)

A Revised and Bullet-Pointed Essay about Organic Apocalyptic Farming

Seeds, the basics:

-Stock up on seeds, they come in packets and are usually cheap depending on where you get them from. I like to store seeds in a mason jar, with a tightly sealed lid. It’s important they’re dry, and if possible, refrigerated. if not, any cold, dark, dry place will do.

-Germination is an easy process, DAMP (not sopping wet. DAMP) peice of thin cloth or paper towel, seeds laid out evenly, and put into either a ziplock baggie or something like a pyrex container. Again, air tight, low-mid light, warm (not hot, not direct sunlight) enviroment.

-if you see a lil mold it’s okay, as long as the root sprouts they’re still viable.

Plants I would Reccomend:

-Peppers are great because they grow quickly, can be canned or stuffed and add a lot to you meals and food. They also don't really take up as much room as some of the other plants i'm about to list. They aren’t the most filling and you cant live off of them but if you want to improve your quality of life or make a lot of money at the end of the world I guarantee you anyone who can actually cook or has the spices and foods to do it is set for life. I would legitimately kill a man for my mom’s pepperoni stuffed pickled peppers. I stabbed my brother over a jar once I am not kidding.

-Pretty much any kind of spice or herb really, I would HIGHLY recommend growing lavender, mint, thyme, and anything lemony or citrus scented, as I mentioned on a previous post, they’re good for pest control. lavender is a very temperamental plant, but most herbs, once ou get them going can be pretty hardy for lil leafs. Also, depending on the amount you’re growing of each most of them don’t take up too much space. Also basil cause it smells nice and I told you to.

-Corn, wheat, and any kind of grain is obviously a good idea if you want bread, but all of them are pretty difficult and require a lot of space. Potatoes are great because they can be used to make bread and alcohol as well.

-Zucchini, eggplants, tomatoes, and summer squash, and pretty much any gourd/melon/squash plant are easy to grow, but keep in mind many of these are expanding and/or vine plants and require a lot of space. They make a lot of food, but tomatoes and cucumbers in particular will actively choke other plants. Like vines wrapping around and leaves growing over top and roots entangling level of choking. Keep apart. but they’re good for you. eggplant, tomato and cucumeber are the highlight here.

-For leafy greens kale and chard are super easy to grow and grow pretty fast. Like any leafy green, too much sunlight will scorch them so be careful. I like to grow chard in an old (was some kinda biohazard barrel my dad stole from some pharmaceutical company, and cleaned out) cause it’s more than deep enough for the roots, but also wide enough to grow plenty. Also kale is high in vit c so if you don't live somewhere tropical you won't die of scurvy :)

-If you plan on raising animals or having a crop FIELD and not a PLOT, then grow long grass into hay, because it is good feed, but can also be used to cover ground to protect from birds. If you sow seeds by yeeting them into the dirt, birds will eat them if you don't cover them and you will die hungry.

-If possible, Alfalfa is also good for animals ( in small quantities) because they like it, or sunflowers. you can eat sunflowers, they produce a lot of seeds adn the seeds can be used as feed. ( same with corn.)

-Mushrooms. can be dried, easy to grow, grow really fast, and can be used as filler for meat dishes. (you can also grow the drug kind because it’s the end of the world and no one is going to stop you)

-tobacco for tabacco

AMNIMALS:

-unless you have a lot of very protected land you’re going to want animals that are small and potentially multipurpose.

-chickens are great because they dont need an exorbitant amount of space, can be used for eggs and meat, their feathers can be used for a number of things, if you dont like eating chicken guts (whats wrong with you) then they can be used as fertilizer, bait or as part of stock, and the bones can also be used for broth or to make small simple tools like needles or pen nibs. However, they actually need a more varied diet then you’d think. if you dont have calcium powder, their own unfertilized crushed up eggs, or scrambled with the shell is good for them once in a while, or chopped up leaves from your plants. Otherwise, a mix of corn and seeds is pretty good. DO NOT feed chickens wheat, oats or bread. Once in a while maybe, as like a super special treat, but too much can be harmful. Also, they eat bugs so they can just be outside if you’re okay with that.

-Goats produce milk, fur/wool (not all breeds do both, most don't do both, actually) and they’re more portable than cows. they also take up less space. A big downside is that goats are not only social animals, but they also need a good bit of stimulation and activity and they can be pretty noisy. My uncle built a jungle gym pyramid for his goats, but be warned, Joe Bob chewed his way out of the barn and needed rescuing from the top of the tower in the middle of a hurricane once. Goats will pretty much eat anything, and their poop is good for compost, Joe Bob and his siblings pretty much live off scraps and they’re happy lil dudes ( ladies actually, Joe Bob is the only boy)

-Rabbits! (the rabbit in raider rabbit is actually because i used to raise rabbits and am fond of them as a farm animal and because nobody can pronouce my name so they just call me Bun but we dont talk about that) probably one of the quietest animals you can keep on a farm, they can be kept in cages, breed quickly, can be used for fur, leather (rabbit and goat leather is great for making paper and cloth, not really good for protective leather) meat, and bones. The biggest issue I can see in the event of a wasteland survival situation is rabbits need a lot of clean water, salt and if you get angouras they pretty much need constant brushing. Be warned, if you dont know how to properly care for and breed them the females will castrate the males or eat her babies :) it is just a traumatizing as it sounds :) I speak from experience :) A good and cheap meat rabbit is the california white rabbit, they're about small to med size, and really simple to look after. Angouras are not great for meat, but their fur makes amazing wool. They eat veggies ( not carrots, too much sugar) oats, hay, their babies, and other leafy greens.

-Quail are something im not super familiar with that was my sibling’s thing, but from what i understand they need less space then chickens, and they’re good meat birds. eggs can be good for feeding other animals, but they’re not really good for much else. Also they’re really fucking loud and will fight each other so maybe not?

-Ducks are a lot like chickens, again, all of them can be eaten or used, and also eggs. eat more leafy greens and stuff and really like having somewhere to swim, better for more open environments. Ducks like to eat a lot and will get really fat really quick ( not a good thing) so be careful. however, if they imprint on you, they will follow you everywhere which makes rounding them up easy.

-Fish are great because their water can be cycled and the yuck water can go to the plants, which is great cause all that fish poop and algae is really good fertilizer. Fish are good for you and I love them. An while they’re not easy to port around, if you feed them micro worms or lil shrimps you can grow their food mostly indefinity and freeze it even. Also ive never heard any fish ( other than that one pufferfish) make noise. keep in mind, you will still have to maintain the water levels and the ph and all that, and they can take up a lot of space.

WHAT METHOD? HOW DO THE FARM? OTHER?

-this is pretty much up to you, I’m a really big fan of hydroponics, but i typically stick to “recycle farming” which is basically using whatever I have on hand and getting creative.

-if you’re going to use a plot of land, its a good idea to make sure you have a fence that goes around, over and under. Pests like groundhogs, rabbits, deer, ghouls, and myself will do more then just walk up and take you plants and animals.

-I recommend quiet animals that can be stored in cages and indoors to avoid larger predators, but any animals will attract them. Bears will break into pens, so if possible either store them INSIDE INSIDE, (like concrete building) or outside in a pen so you dont die.

-Living in the wasteland, or growing up with parents that think it basically is will teach you to utilize anything and everything. bottles and cans are great pots, old trashcans can be used if your dad wont steal chemical barrels from your local pharm plant for you, tires can be shredded into mulch, old rebar is my favorite thing for climbing plants ( sturdy, easy to stick into the ground and remove, pretty source able) Animal parts can be used for fishing bait or fertilizer, corn husks and other dry leaf litter can make good ground cover is hay isn't an option, ect.

-Plastic sheets and table cloths with holes cut in them for the plants are great for vine plants to grow through.

-scarecrows ain’t shit. Most birds are too stupid to notice and the ones that will are smart enough to figure out it’s not real pretty quick so all you’re doing is wasting good clothes and materials and scaring the shit out of yourself when you forget and look out the window and see a giant man in your field. Get a cat.

-it’s the apocalypse. grow weed.

How source plant food?

-poop and leafy plant scraps. animal poop, your own poop, your neighbors poop, poop. plant scraps, leafy greens, peels, rotten material.

-Get a big plastic tub or my favorite stolen barrels and shovel in some dead soil, layer in some plant scrap, dry leaf litter or corn husks, poop, leaf litter, and add creepy crawlies if you can. give a stir or shake every so often.

-avoid flies. as gross as it is, it’s a good idea to keep it warm, moist and humid, so very closed to avoid them.

-you can also add egg shells to give some calcium to your bug buddies.

-corpses.

What do I keep? how do I use it? (animals)

-egg shells are useful for a number of things, dried and nicely crushed they can be used for calcium for other animals. Or protection spells.

-bones for the same thing just don't feed the animals to themselves. I joked about this with the rabbits a bit ( a little cannibalism with them is inevitable and wont hurt them, but still) but cannibalism can lead to a lot of really bad neurological conditions that can harm you as well if you consume their products. Same with chickens, you feeding them scrambled eggs and shells once in a while is good for them, but if they start consistently eating their eggs you need to seperate them for a bit.

-fur and skin are great, esp for tanning, hides can make all kinds of things from paper, to water pouches and other bags, and fabric in general. being able to make cloth and leather is something a lot of people really overlook.

-Bones but for tools. Having a good needle and thread is really underestimated.

-Intestines can be used to make sausage, and other things.

-i will eat the chicken liver if you don't want it but it’s your anemia.

-make jerky/salted meat. both wont last forever, but you dont need to freeze it if you dont have power and will last longer then raw or cooked meat. salt cured meat lasts about 2-3 weeks, so if you’re solo or a small group and you did what i said and got small animals you wont be wasting food, and you dont have to butcher something every day.

-jerky can last a lil longer if stored properly, say it with me now! *air tight containers* you might get a solid month or so out of jerky, and it can mostly be rehydrated, or eaten as is.

-rendered animal fat or tallow makes good cooking oil, and while a little time consuming is not super difficult.

-make butter and cheese, not for survival, but quality of life.

Help I grew to many plants!

-can them, dumbass.

-fr though, canned foods can last a decent amount of time and can be really useful if you live somewhere with a winter, or can farm constantly. I mentioned already, but canned stuffed peppers are a favorite of mine, along with pickled eggs, which I make pretty regularly because a world without pickled eggs is the darkest thing i can imagine.

-feed them to your animals or back to your plants.

-throw them at your friends. (you haven't lived until you’ve hocked a rotten pumpkin at your little brother)

-dry them, fruit leather and veggie chips can be rehydrated and stored even longer than certain canned or preserved foods.

What else?

-learn how to purify water. there’s a million non tech versions, but in a sinch, the boil method is good if you just need to water plants. just dont pour boiling water on your crop.

-do use boiling water for weeds though. you can also feed weeds to your animals, but boiling water is just water, it’s not going to kill the soil or poison you.

-learn to fish and forage, theres a whole lot of things that aren't easy to grow or raise that can be tasty and good for you.

-learn to make fire. be prepared to put out fire. Dry crops will burn for days, so keep them watered, but you need to be able to burn exccess compost and cook.

-farming smells so bad. I love farming but animal poop, rotten veggies, innards, decay and compost, burning compost smells. if you cant stomach it and want the easy way out, thats called starvation or you better be beefy and prepped enough to raid others. or both, gorw your shit and steal from others, i dont care.

-forgot to mention earlier, but fermented foods like kimchi, kombucham etc are really good for you so yea. I might also teach you how to make kombucha cause my mom made me drink it so by god ill make you drink it too. ( i actually love it and it's good for making vinegar.)

-And forgot, legumes, like beans, peanuts, letils etc are really good plant protein. just not fun to grow, (ecept for beans. beans are actually very fun to to grow.)

[yardsards]

fun bit of trivia about my region of the states (north appalachia)

we have this food called pepperoni rolls (which i only learned a couple years ago are NOT ubiquitous across the country???)

they're pepperoni and sometimes a bit of mozzarella cheese rolled up in bread dough and baked, which makes the pepperoni grease/seasonings leach into the bread

everybody has their own method of rolling them and preferred size and preferred proportion of ingredients, but they tend to look something like this

they're often made in semi large batches, like a dozen or so

and they're good to eat warm, especially dipped in some marinara sauce

but more commonly, in the days after that, they're eaten cold/at room temperature. because the low moisture content and high salt and whatnot mean they can be left out of the refrigerator for several hours without spoiling

this made them extremely popular back when coal mining was the area's biggest industry. they could be packed in a miner's lunch box with no refrigeration and eaten for a decent source of protein. and similar went for steel millers and factory workers

and they just kinda became a regional staple over time from there

specifically, kids in school seemed to go hogwild for the things. like, our school band had, on top of standard bake sale type fundraisers, pepperoni roll sales. kids LOVED having Coal Miner Food in their lunches.

this is all to say: The Children Yearn For The Mines

[jellogram]

So I'm really anxious for this move right, and I was worried thinking about how I'm arriving the night before easter and everything's gonna be closed and what if I can't get any food for two days???

But I knew what to do this time. I bought some flour tortillas and a bag of pepperoni and put them in my travel pack. They don't need to be refrigerated and if the worst case scenario happens and I can't get any food, I can live off roll-ups for a couple days.

And I knew to do this because it's what I did in Alaska. I had no access to grocery stores or restaurants at all, but I had tortillas and pepperoni. So I just lived off roll-ups and it kept me from panicking about where I was going to find food.

I guess what I'm getting at is that I'm probably always going to be crazy. I think that's just who I am. I am going to put myself in insane situations and I am going to freak out about it. That's not going to change. But what I can do is get a lot better at being crazy. And that's a much better alternative to getting angry with myself.

[philcatelinet]

I posted 1,361 times in 2022

43 posts created (3%)

1,318 posts reblogged (97%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@icanbeyourriver

@supersnarky

@lifesgrandparade

@greenekatgrey

I tagged 28 of my posts in 2022

#hell yes - 1 post

#not great bob - 1 post

#sweden can have some eugenics ig - 1 post

#*coronavirus - 1 post

#*death - 1 post

#us and no - 1 post

#i grew up in the 80s and just missed nuclear war duck and cover drills - 1 post

#smbc - 1 post

#hiveworks - 1 post

#comic - 1 post

Longest Tag: 94 characters

#sorry if this is a spoiler but the book has been out for years and the show aired 10 years ago

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

I had to share my impressions of the New York Philharmonic in the newly renovated David Geffen Hall. For reference: our seats were on the orchestra level, row EE, in the center rear of the hall just under the first tier. For further reference: I’ve been a season-ticket subscriber to the NY Philharmonic since 2007. They have performed in the same hall since 1964 but it just underwent a renovation that fixed its notoriously bad acoustics, moved the stage forward by 30 feet so the audience is closer, and updated all the facilities. Tonight’s concert was Mozart’s Piano Concerto No. 22 and Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7, two of my favorite pieces by two of my favorite composers.

I love the sound of the renovated hall. I’ve never FELT the Philharmonic’s sound like I did tonight. The basses and cellos, and all the strings, had a depth to their sound. I could hear the articulations more than ever. All of the instruments could be heard more clearly than before. I thought the delicacy of the Mozart piano concerto came out and that the piano was almost too soft compared to the orchestra. Maybe the piano was too loud before? Or the orchestra was straining to be heard over the piano? I thought the concerto was lovely nevertheless.

Bruckner’s Symphony No. 7 was incredible. I was hanging on every note. The brass sounded clear as bells. It helped that all of the brass were in the center of the stage, behind the winds, (and directly in front of where we were sitting in the center rear of the hall) instead of off to the side and way in the back like they used to be. I could feel those gorgeous brass chorales in the second movement. And the cymbal crash and timpani roll at the climax of the second movement was like an explosion of sound! There were other little things that I hadn’t noticed all the times I’d heard the piece before, like harmonies in the winds, or the first horn doubling the cellos in the opening, or some sharp menacing notes from the basses in the finale.

I almost feel cheated for all the years that I heard this orchestra in the old hall. I didn’t know what I was missing! I can’t wait to go back and hear them play there again. We have tickets to 3 more concerts this season and I might have to go by myself once or twice.

6 notes - Posted November 5, 2022

#4

See the full post

7 notes - Posted September 29, 2022

#3

FreshDirect misdelivered someone else’s order to our building and now there’s fresh produce and two cases of Lacroix sitting in the hallway. I feel bad about food waste but we don’t have that much room in our refrigerator for more produce. And would taking the food be stealing, like taking someone’s package?

On the other hand FreshDirect is not going to come back and pick up this order and redeliver it. So it’s going to sit in the hallway for a couple of days and then one of us will put it in the trash.

8 notes - Posted February 19, 2022

#2

We’ve gone all black for concert dress! I’m taking this look to our orchestra concert just off Times Square tonight.

8 notes - Posted October 15, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I made one of my favorite dinners: Cook’s Illustrated’s chicken parmesan, and I added some pepperoni because why the hell not? And some sautéed green beans for our health, and a Sicilian red blend.

9 notes - Posted January 29, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[clatterbane]

Tonight's little food experiment: pizza, using some refrigerated GF crust which Mr. C spotted at ICA! Seemed worth a try.

The dough came in a rolled-up round sheet like puff pastry, on that piece of baking paper they said to leave it on.

He got two of them, since the default pizza here is intended to be a personal pizza--and, wanting to make sure there was plenty. (Spoiler: yep!) That way each of us could also dress it up to our own taste, which unsurprisingly can be rather different. Though, tonight both of us went pretty similar with it.

I did try to keep the sheer quantity of fixings down a little, since that is a Swedish-style thin crust after all. But, of course I may have ended up going slightly OTT. 😁

A little hard to see there, especially since I did slap on two layers of cheese as usual, with some of the stuff partly hidden by the thinner one over them. But, I decided to go with some jarred Barilla sauce with (a few) sliced olives in it, slivered onion, sliced mushroom, sliced smoked ham cut into strips, pepperoni that I cut in half because the slices were fairly big before it shrank in the oven, and a little feta on top. Plus a sprinkle of a "Greek" herb seasoning when it came out of the oven, because why not.

The end product was pretty yummy!

As for that refrigerated dough itself? It was edible, and I've certainly had--and personally concocted 🙄--worse takes on GF pizza crusts. Glad to try it, but I probably won't be rushing to buy more of it.

(Looking a more appealing texture than it felt, tbh.)

This one didn't really noticeably rise with baking, and just stayed sort of dense and doughy textured. It almost seemed undercooked in the middle, but I don't see how it would have been. (His struck him exactly the same way.)

Might be improved by prebaking it a little, before adding anything on top--but, we both just followed package directions this time, which didn't call for it. It may be worth another try, to see if that does improve the texture.

But, although the results were a tad disappointing? I knew anything like that is a crapshoot, going in. Glad for the chance to give it a try, anyway.

And, it still worked as a delivery vehicle for all that yummy yummy cured meat and feta! 😋

[novelconcepts]

You saying more childhood AU is possible with the right prompt is just...

More Tess. All of the Tess. Tess the morning after the party, lives in my brain rent free. The teasing. The knowing looks. The Jamie and Dani being so in love and unashamed and also oops we forgot the roommate. And Tess being the wonderful person she is and not letting them get away with anything.

It’s the fact that they think they’re subtle, that really gets her. 

Not that Tess is upset to find Jamie crashing with them the week following graduation. Of course Jamie is crashing with them. Where else would she go, now that Dani “it’s important to grow up and change and learn who you really are, or some such bull” Clayton has finally snapped up the hot gardener of her dreams? Honestly, if Dani let her walk out that door--especially after that first night, which, hello, gardener; these walls aren’t half as thick as they apparently think--she’d have forfeited all rights to sanity, and Tess would have no choice but to make her move instead.

No, she isn’t upset to find Jamie still here the following morning. Or at all. She loves Jamie. What’s not to love? 

Honestly, so much to love. If she didn’t love Dani even more, she might have to really test the bounds of this friendship. Particularly when she opens her bedroom door to find Jamie--hair rumpled, dressed in a half-unbuttoned flannel and a pair of boxer shorts--at the kitchen counter. Like, warn a woman. 

“Warn you about what?” Jamie looks blank, her hands prying open each cupboard with evidently-mounting disappointment. “You really don’t have any tea?”

“Warn a woman,” Tess repeats, hip-checking her gently out of the way and scrounging the supply of English Breakfast out from behind the stoner snacks. “Before you turn up in her kitchen looking all sex-rumpled. I haven’t even had coffee, Taylor, Jesus.”

Jamie blinks, taking the box from her hands. “O...kay. How was the rest of the party?”

“Not nearly as engaging as your night,” Tess informs her pleasantly, delighted when Jamie’s sleep-muddled expression lights up with embarrassment. “But an extravaganza in its own right all the same. Where’s my girl? I know you railed her into next week, but it seems bad manners to leave you to breakfast alone.”

“I didn’t--we--”

“Thin walls,” Tess sing-songs. “Like paper. Or, what, you’re English--parchment?”

“We have paper,” Jamie deadpans. Tess pats her shoulder, working around her to fill the kettle. 

“Good fortune really does smile upon you. Ah! Sleeping Beauty arises!”

Dani, looking only slightly more functional than Jamie, is emerging from the bathroom with an expression that suggests she, at least, is very aware of the acoustics of their apartment. It’s so tempting to tease her about it--Dani has this truly adorable habit of looking like she might combust if pushed too far, the red of her face complimented nicely by the gold of her hair--but Tess figures some things can wait. Lord knows they’re going to walk right into it soon enough.

But like--so soon. Like, she goes off to take a shower, and comes back to find they still haven’t left the kitchen soon.

“Seriously?” She laughs, watching them leap apart. It’s too clear Dani has forgone the idea of coffee and bacon for the much-more-invigorating art of pushing Jamie against the refrigerator. Not that Tess can blame her. 

“We--were just--”

“Right in front of my cereal,” Tess says gravely, shaking her head in faux-disappointment as she stretches over Jamie--whose hands are still rooted to Dani’s hips, the hem of Dani’s shirt dropping hastily back over her stomach--to retrieve a box of off-brand Lucky Charms. “No shame.”

They’re both making noises of disagreement, as though Tess hasn’t had her share of groping in the kitchen experiences to call on. She snorts. 

“Look, far be it from me to stop your, ah, young love in its tracks. Just. Keep it out of my bedroom, is all I ask. Unless...” She wiggles her eyebrows. Jamie clears her throat so violently, it sounds as though she might fracture something.

“Shower. Should. I.”

“That sentence normally goes in the other direction,” says Tess helpfully. Dani swats her back, grinning. 

“Got that out of your system yet?”

“Oh, not nearly.” Tess beams. “By all means, Clayton, show her where the shower lives.”

“I know where the,” Jamie begins to protest, but Dani is slipping both arms around her middle, pressing against her back to urge her toward the bathroom.

“That’s her polite way of saying if I don’t go with you now, she’s going to spend the next half hour fishing for details.”

“You still owe me those,” Tess calls after them. “Every last filthy one.”

***

They think the shower is noise-cancelling, too, Tess realizes about four minutes later. Jesus, these beautiful useless idiots. 

***

It’s the lack of subtlety masquerading as Chill, really. The fact that every single time Tess leaves a room, she can count slowly to ten, poke her head back out, and find they’ve picked right back up where last she interrupted. 

Step into the bedroom to change her clothes? Come back out to find Dani straddling Jamie on the couch. 

Take a quick smoke break on the stairs out front? Glance through the window to find Jamie shirtless, the unmistakable tread of scratches running down her back beneath her bra. 

Offer to run out for lunch? Spend an extra five minutes idly counting clouds, because fuck only knows the sounds Dani is making isn’t karaoke. 

“You two,” she announces, tossing the pizza box onto the counter with a flourish, “are going to break something if you keep this up. I mean, you’re at least taking hydration breaks, I hope? Do I need to bring you a power bar?”

Jamie has the decency to look slightly ashamed of herself, though there’s a definite grin beneath the hunched shoulders. Dani, selecting a slice of pepperoni-and-banana-peppers, shrugs. 

“Consider it payback?”

“For who?” Tess demands, delighted. Dani raises her free hand, ticking her fingers down toward her palm.

“Tyler, whose butt I saw like ten minutes before you introduced us. May, who you used to desecrate the kitchen floor. Carlos and Beth--”

“Liz,” Tess interrupts, “she goes by Liz these days.”

“--Liz, with whom you conveniently forgot I needed to shower before my presentation and took up the bathroom for three hours--”

“Okay, okay,” Tess snorts, groping for a dishtowel in some shade of off-white to wave. “Truce.”

“And that’s just this apartment,” Dani says cheerfully. She tilts her head to look at Jamie, whose face can best be described as aghast. “Back in the dorm, she used to sneak girls in after I was asleep.”

“You were a sound sleeper!” 

“No one is sound enough to ignore a bed frame breaking, Tess.”

“I...avoiding college was the right choice,” Jamie says weakly. Tess bats her eyes.

“You’re saying you’ve never dreamed of breaking a bed frame with me, Taylor?”

Jamie darts a look around at Dani, her eyes just shy of screaming. Tess is having the best time of her life. 

***

“Tell me honestly, though,” she says. Jamie gives her a sharp look, uncertainty obvious even as she reaches to accept the joint Tess is passing her way. 

“Really don’t think Dani wants me giving you a play by play.”

“Dani, beloved of my soul, was fool enough to schedule a doctor’s appointment while you were still in town. She knows what I’m about.” 

To Jamie’s credit, she doesn’t choke this time. She puffs once, twice, holding the smoke in her lungs an impressively long time before craning her head back and exhaling. "What am I telling you honestly?”

“You’re going to keep an eye on her, right?”

Jamie looks surprised. “Yeah. Not that she needs it, mind. Just. Yeah. Always.”

Tess sighs. “She doesn’t need it, but you know as well as I what that woman is like. Too good. Too fucking good for her own good, you know? Forgets, sometimes, that she can come first, too.”

Jamie offers a smile nearly wicked in its amusement. “Oh, I take care of that.”

“Yes,” Tess drawls, “darling, I can tell. You know, really relieved she never brought anyone home before now. I’m not sure my beauty sleep could have taken the abuse.”

Jamie laughs, leaning back and pulling a throw pillow into a loose embrace. “She doesn’t need anyone taking care of her. But...”

“But you can’t help wanting to, anyway,” Tess guesses. When Jamie nods, she takes another hit, lets the smoke burn in her chest. “She has that effect on people. Our girl would take a bullet for anyone, and it’s...impossible not to love her for it.”

“She’s the reason,” Jamie says softly, “I didn’t run. Reason I did a lot of things, some of ‘em really, really stupid. Sometimes I think everything I’ve ever done can be traced back home to her, one way or another.”

“That, my dear,” Tess says, “is what fools and songstresses alike call love, I think. Just...do me a favor, keep her from killing herself for those kids.”

Jamie nods. “I will. Promise.”

“Good,” Tess says lightly. “I like you, Jamie. You’ve got the hands of a sinner and the smile of a saint. I’d really hate to have to track you down and kill you for doing her wrong.”

***

For all the sex, and all the blushing that follows, it’s late nights like this one that really say it all. Nights where cards fade into lazy conversation fade into this: Jamie, asleep on the couch, her head resting in Dani’s lap. Dani, looking down at her like she’s never felt so at home in her own skin. 

And Tess, watching them both, astonished by the lack of fear in the room. The lack of distance. The lack of uncertainty. 

Dani, who has always been a nervous sort, whose panic attacks are so predictable on bad weeks, Tess came back from that first Christmas break with a laundry list of coping methods to offer--looks perfectly at peace. Her fingers stroke back Jamie’s hair, tracing her forehead, her nose, every brush of contact only seeming to sink Jamie deeper into dream. Dani has never looked like this before. 

“You’re happy,” Tess says quietly. Not a question. Not a challenge. Dani smiles.

“Part of me thought she’d get sick of it, you know. Waiting for me.”

“Who could get sick of you?” Tess asks, and means it. No one in the world stacks up to Dani, on a list of favorite people. No one in the world ever could. If Jamie really did fall ass over teakettle for this woman when they were barely old enough to know what love was, she couldn’t be blamed for it. Not for a second. 

“You’ll invite me to the wedding, of course,” Tess says, when Dani--eyes closed, fingers still tracing aimlessly--says nothing for a while. One blue eye emerges, her nose scrunching up. 

“Jumping ahead, aren’t you?”

“She’d do it here and now, if you asked. Shit, I could get ordained, do it for you. Always thought I’d look nice in a little suit.”

“You’d be gorgeous,” Dani says, without a hint of deprecation. Tess blows her a kiss. “And...yes. If and when, I can’t imagine doing it without you.”

“As officiant?”

“I was thinking maid of honor,” Dani laughs. Tess leans back, smiling. 

“That’ll do.”

The silence creeps in again, the sleepy indulgence of post-midnight living that feels so perfectly suited to the college experience. Nothing else, Tess suspects, will ever be quite this again--the quiet feeling like peace, the weariness feeling earned, not crushing. Jamie breathes out in her sleep, one hand drifting to gently grasp the hem of Dani’s shirt.

“Gonna miss you,” Tess says softly. “And this one, too.”

Dani smiles, a hint of sadness in her eyes. “It won’t be the same again, will it?”

“Nope.” And maybe that’s a good thing, she thinks. Maybe that’s exactly how it should be. Growing up. Changing. Learning who they ought to be. “But you’ll call.”

“And write,” Dani agrees. 

“And send me pictures of your hot gardener,” Tess adds. “Lord knows, it’d be a crying shame to forget that.”

Dani laughs. “Never.”

“You did good, Clayton. Took you a minute, but--you did good.”

She lets the silence settle for real, lets Jamie sleep and Dani doze, lets herself sink into the armchair. They aren’t subtle, it’s true--she’ll probably wake tomorrow to find they’ve opted for a quiet round of the most wall-shaking sex she’s ever heard in Dani’s room--but that feels right, somehow. Good, to see Dani refusing to make herself small. Great, to see Dani refusing to temper an emotion this grand.

“I love you idiots,” she says softly. “You’re going to be just fuckin’ fine.”

[love-takes-work]

Very Cool Potluck

Did you know that some people are so dedicated to reproducing Steven Universe recipes that they’ll both put cheese puffs in their sushi AND willingly bring durian into their homes?

I will teach you the basics of how to prepare the Cool Kids’ Potluck and also tell you the story of how I got food poisoning.

(Sorry, Lars’ ube roll is not included, because it didn’t make it to the potluck. It is available as a separate recipe, of course.)

See more SU food tutorials!

I decided it was time to do the Cool Kids' POTLUCK!

STEVEN: (holds up Snack Sushi) "Who's feelin' lucky?"

SOUR CREAM: "I brought the soda."

JENNY: "I brought the pizza."

BUCK: "I brought the assorted fruit."

And Sadie brought paper plates to complete the set. Too bad Lars's Ube Roll couldn't join them! 

Okay, so we have a four-part meal. Most complicated of course is the sushi! We can assume it is Snack Sushi, which I have made before but didn't really give instructions. Steven explains pretty well but doesn't give you a sushi rice recipe. How about I just tackle this here and show you how?

Recipe 1: SNACK SUSHI

Ingredients:

11 1/2 ounces sushi rice

1 1/2 cups cold water

4 tablespoons rice vinegar

3 tablespoons sugar

1 teaspoon salt

1 package nori (seaweed sheets)

1 avocado

1 bag cheese puffs

Mayonnaise

Hot sauce

First, sushi rice is made a special way. I am no expert, but the way I do it has worked fine for sushi in the past. First you measure out your 11.5 ounces of rice and put it in a sieve, then wash thoroughly with tap water.

Put it in the pan you will cook it in, pour the 1.5 cups of cold water on, and let sit WITHOUT COOKING for 30 minutes.

When the soak time is up, turn on high and boil. As soon as it hits boil, turn to low, cover, and cook 15 minutes. Then turn off the heat and let steam in the pan for 10 more minutes. You now have fluffable, tasty, sticky steamed rice!

Next, make your vinegar concoction. Combine the vinegar, the sugar, and the salt in a small dish. Microwave it to dissolve the sugar. I did this in a few 20-second bursts. It smells strongly but I love that smell. Make sure when you stir it, there's no sugar on the bottom! It must be dissolved.

Pour the concoction over the hot rice and stir it in. You are ready to work with it!

From there, it is as Steven shows us in "Cooking With Lion."

• Put nori on a rolling mat, rough side up

• Spread sushi rice on the nori thinly

• Halve the avocado, remove pit, cut in slices and rub a spoon around the avocado flesh to dislodge it

• Place the avocado slices in a line on the rice

• Place a line of cheese puffs in a line next to the avocado

• Roll compactly, tucking as necessary to get it into roll shape

• Cut!

You'll also need to make "spicy mayo" for the garnish. Steven uses hot sauce and mayonnaise. Mix together and squirt neatly onto the top of each roll.

"Who's feelin' lucky?!"

And that's the recipe!

Tip:

Use rice shortly after cooking. Refrigerate it if you will not be eating it soon after. Guess who got food poisoning from eating old rice because of this? CAN YOU GUESS?? 🤢

Recipe 2: PIZZA

So I've made pizza from scratch half a dozen times already for this show. I'm not gonna do it again. (Here's my personal Fish Stew Pizza recipe.)

Jenny simply brings pizza from work! So I decided to go the easy route and purchase a commercial pizza this time.

We never actually see the pizza eaten. I will assume it's the default pepperoni pizza and add veggie pepperoni to mine.

Baking in the oven per box directions as I figure out pizza boxes!!

Jenny's got four dang boxes of pizza on that table. I'm sorry, but I will not be preparing four pizzas. I live by myself and am not actually having a real potluck here. I will use comic book boxes to provide the illusion of many pizzas even though I am only cooking one. Shhhhh.

I actually used paper cutouts and markers to design my own Fish Stew Pizza box!!

Done! Next!

Recipe 3: SODA

Another recipe where I don't really make anything. I am just dressing up a bottle of Diet Coke.

But at least I made it look like the soda Sour Cream brought (termed "So-Duh").

Recipe 4: ASSORTED FRUIT

Oh god.

Buck, you clown. 🤡🤡 You went and bought various pokey-skinned fruits and forced me to BRING A DURIAN INTO MY HOME.

Folks, do you have any idea what durian is?

Let's just say it's known as the King of Fruits and it is SMELLY. You can't look up anything about durian online without related news stories discussing areas where durian is BANNED, neighbors complaining if you bring durian home, and tips on getting the smell off your hands and out of your breath.

I've bought frozen durian before to make Durian Juice Boxes. It was bad enough frozen. But then I had to go buy a FRESH STANK MACHINE at the Asian Market.

The things I do for this friggin show

So we have pineapple.

We have dragonfruit.

And we have &%#!%@ durian.

Durian! People! Do you have any idea what my house smells like!!! And they put it in a bag like that because you can't pick it up without GETTING STABBED! god what am i doing

Anyway.

There, you happy?

Here is my beautiful POTLUCK.

Add paper plates because Sadie brought them and now Sour Cream is thrilled he doesn't have to do the dishes.

Also, I'm sure it wouldn't be all that much fun if you didn't get a quick lesson on how to eat the weird fruits, even though the Cool Kids did not cut into them. Right?

So after I recovered from food poisoning from that rice, I put down a plastic tablecloth on my outdoor porch table, gathered an assortment of knives and plates, grabbed some gloves, and prepared these fruits for eating.

Dragonfruit:

Cut in half. Cut further in quarters and eighths. Peel the fruit out of the husk and store.

Verdict: I don't like dragonfruit. It tasted like weird, hurty watery kiwi. Maybe you should know I'm allergic to kiwi. This is probably related. I shouldn't eat this.

Pineapple:

Cut the top and bottom off and discard (including the bush at the top). Slice the remainder completely in half. Cut the core out--you shouldn't eat it. Then slice each half and slice again into manageable strips. Cut lines in the fruit and cut them off into a storage container.

Verdict: I am allergic to pineapple so I didn't try it, but it smelled amazing. I saved it for my friend.

Durian:

All right, stank fruit, here we go.

Cut the stem off and flip the durian to stand on the top where you cut the stem off. Use pot holders to manipulate because otherwise IT WILL CUT YOU. Examine the durian's shape and see if you can figure out based on its bulges where the huge scary pods are inside. Make a cut through the very tough husk and pull it apart with your hands.

Pods will emerge. They are soft and delicate, so if you hold them too hard they'll break. Each contains HUGE seeds. Take the seeds out before eating. Go around the rest of the durian and get all the pods out. It's a scavenger hunt! Store.

Verdict: The smell is literally not any worse when you open it. It is a very thick, pervasive smell but to me it didn't smell like a rotting corpse or poop or anything.

But then I ate a little bit and the aftertaste was really dark and musty. Dip a butt in tropical fruit syrup. It was pretty vile. I swallowed it though, and my mouth was Very Unhappy. I do not like durian.

I guess I'm 0 for 3. My sushi made me sick because I left the rice out for hours, I can't eat any of my fruit, and I reused the pizza to make a damn Pizza Steve.

But at least my life is interesting while it's being a disaster, huh?

At least I can still drink my So-Duh.

See more SU food tutorials!

[qvid-pro-qvo]

can i request an emily prentiss x female!reader with the prompts “Stay there. I’m coming to get you.”, “I was just thinking about you.”, and “Stay over.” in no particular order

emily prentiss x female!reader. using this prompt as a part one to another prompt, because i like to think ahead. 

word count: 1700

rating: e for everyone, with support and surprises coming from the people closest to you (no warnings, just fluff). 

-

“You know, I was just thinking about you,” Emily teases, and you smile. You know what she’s doing. It’s what she always does, when she wants to distract you from your work.

“Is that so,” you state, deadpan, and she hums. You feel her hands come around your neck, feel her fingers start massaging into your neck. At one point, her fingers dig right into the junction of your shoulder, and you can’t help the shiver that leaves you. “Emily…”

“Take a break.” Her voice is next to your ear, which makes you shiver again. “Don’t tell me this doesn’t feel like you should put those books down.”

You chuckle. Reach to drop your pen, and spin in your chair so that you can look at her. She stands tall over you, and you let your eyes scan her from top to bottom and back up again. “And lie to a profiler? I’m not a moron. But. I am someone who has an exam tomorrow that I really need to pass, and it’s only 7:00 PM.”

“Then I’m lucky my girlfriend is a genius.” Her hip is cocked, and she looks stunning. You love her when she’s like this. You love her all the time, but these moments, these are when you remember how much. Because her bangs hang free from her ponytail, and her lips are pouted a little and bitten just that much more. She’s a sweatshirt from your alma mater, and shorts that you had stolen from her and she took back, and when she leans forward, and traps you in your seat, hands encircling your wrists, your breath catches. “Take a break. Stay over. I’ll drive you to the facility tomorrow morning.”

You don’t try to hide the suspicion on your features, raising a brow at the certainty. “At 7:00 AM? Don’t you have work or something?”

“I’ll be up. And I’ll take you.”

You love her.

“I’m not a genius. You should know, you work with one of them,” you retort, and she just laughs. It’s bright, and you’re enraptured by her. And at this point, you know that work is a distant memory, that really, you either know cardiothoracic surgery or you don’t, and maybe it’s the way her fingers release your wrists to trail along your arms, but you’re pretty certain you know Emily Prentiss, too. You know that she’s aware that you’ve given up on any last-minute cramming, you know that she’s got pizza already on the way, and you know that the rest of the night is going to involve hands in your hair and fingers on your pressure points.

You love her.

“The fact that I know a genius makes me pretty qualified to spot another, don’t you think?” She leans forward, kisses you. It’s gentle, and then she reaches for your hands, pulls you to standing. “Come on, smartie. I know for a fact you haven’t eaten either, and there’s a pepperoni pie with your name on it.”

“Because you used my card,” you say, once again deadpan, and she just smiles at you, winking.

“Because I used your card. I’ll pay you back.”

It makes you chuckle, and you do in fact stand, letting her lead you to the couch in her front room, and then past it to her bed. The curtains are open, and you can see the pitter-patter of rain on the glass.

“So what’s the plan?” you ask her. “Seems like you’ve taken control.” Not that you mind. Not at all.

“Pizza. Movie. Bed early,” she tells you. Plainly. And by the time you get into the bed, and the doorbell rings. She grabs the pizza, you snag the blankets, and before long your head is pillowed on the logo of your alma mater, and your fingers are tangled with hers when they’re not reaching for pizza.  

-

Emily gets the call at 3:00 PM the following day. A Saturday where she doesn’t have to go into the office, a Saturday she blocked out.

But you don’t know that. You don’t know that at all. In fact, Emily dressed for work that morning, a part of the ploy to solidify her stance in your mind.

She supposes it’s not really a ploy, considering that she knows that you wouldn’t have stayed over if you didn’t trust her, if you didn’t know her, if you didn’t love her, but Emily Prentiss is nothing if not thorough. She wants to guarantee every angle, and she wants to know that you know that you’re the most important thing in her life. She wants you to know that waking up at before 7:00 AM to drive her girlfriend to her boards is a privilege, and a pleasure, and she’ll do it any day of the week.

And so it starts with that call. A call at 3:00 PM on a Saturday. You sound more than a little exhausted, when she picks up.

“Prentiss.”

You called her work phone. Adorable.

“Hey, Em. I – uh. I’m done.”

“You’re done?” she asks, and she makes her voice silky smooth. “Well, congratulations. How do you feel?”

“Like I could eat another pizza by myself. And like I couldn’t read the numbers on your card to even take it to order it.”

“Well, stay there. I’m coming to get you.”

There’s a pause. She can feel you squirming over the phone, the need to get home battling with the knowledge that your girlfriend could be at work. “Are you sure? I can get a cab or something. I don’t want you to drop the ball with your boss.”

Right. Emily’s boss. The BAU. The complicated dance between telling them and deciding not to.

Emily’s boss. Aaron Hotchner. Who when he found out that Emily was taking a Saturday off, basically gave her the Aaron Hotchner form of “thank God.” (He didn’t know why. He didn’t need to. But she was taking time off, and… that’s what mattered.)

Anyway. That’s part of the reason that Emily feels like she has to really show up. Show out. But, anyways. 

“Em. Emily. Really, I can call a cab, I can walk… someplace. One of the other residents is in there right now, I can wait –”

“Don’t worry about that,” Emily reassures you. “Trust me.”

You stop talking. You’re thinking, loudly, because that’s the way your brain works when you’re tired. You’re surely now starting to fiddle  with your hair, a finger curling in one strand, and you’ve probably, by now, started rocking on your toes. A habit from grade school, you told her once, when you were still one of the shortest girls in the class and needed to peek over the shoulders of others.

And now you stand on the shoulders of some many before you, and you stand tall. You’re a brilliant woman, you were a brilliant resident, an incredible girlfriend, and you’re soon to be an incredible board-certified thoracic surgeon.

And you trust Emily Prentiss, and that – that’s a gift she can’t ever let go.

She loves you.

“So… did the FBI sweatshirt give you luck?” she asks, and she can hear you smiling, just like she can hear you thinking.

“It looks good. And I think knowing that I had the full force of the federal government behind me helped me out a lot.”

“Really?”

“Well, they made me take it off before I went in. But I thought about you a lot. And I… thought about how I can’t wait to get back home to you.”

Emily grins. She knows you can hear it, just like you can hear her get in the car, start the thing, and begin the fifteen-minute drive to pick you up.

“And how did you do? After you took the FBI sweatshirt off?”

“I think I aced my fucking boards, and I put the FBI sweatshirt back on so I could celebrate with you before I called.”

“You’re the best.”

“I know. So no work today, huh?”

And that makes Emily pause. Because she did not tell you for a reason, so she could surprise you. With comfortable clothes, and a warm shower, and a hell of a lot of kisses on the way back to the apartment she spent all day filling with your favorite candles.

“What? How did you –”

“I may not be a profiler, Emily, but let me just say a cake that needs to be refrigerated should be picked up the day of for a real surprise.”

Oh.

Right.

The cake.

“That’s why I ordered pizza,” she admits. “So you wouldn’t look in the fridge.”

“I got munchy after the movie. Checked after I went to the bathroom.”

There’s a moment, where Emily feels her heart sink a little. Feels her hand grip the steering wheel. “Right. Well. I’m sorry. I – I thought it’d be a fun surprise.”

But instead of laughing more, instead of teasing, instead of anything else, you just smile, loudly, brilliantly, kindly. “I love you, you know that?”

Yeah. Emily does.

“I love you, too. A lot. And. You deserve better than me.”

“There’s no better than you, Emily. There’s you, and this FBI sweatshirt. And that’s all I need for the rest of my life, I think.”

It’s that simple. It’s that easy. When Emily picks you up, you’re bounce on your toes and hop into her car, and lean over and kiss her long and hard, keeping her held close with a hand on the back of her neck. You tuck her hair behind her ear, sweep her bangs just as much as you need to keep them out of her eyes, and then you kiss her once more.

“How ‘bout some cake before we have something sweeter?” she laughs, and you just nod, reaching for her hand before collapsing back against the passenger seat.

“How about a nap?”

(And four weeks later, when the results come back, and there’s a newly board-certified thoracic surgeon out in the world after her girlfriend aced her fucking boards, well. Well. There’s another celebration. Another cake. And this time, it’s picked up the day of, and you laugh and tease and say ‘I told you so’ with that loud and incredible smile.)

[thefatedthoughtofyou]

Dirty Deeds (Done Dirt Cheap) ~ Part 17

Summary: Sam inherits Steve Roger's crime empire after a handful of his men betray and kill him. The rest of the crime world, sensing an opening, go after Sam and the territories he's inherited from Steve. Thankfully, Steve left him a number, someone to call if he ever needs help. Someone, Steve claimed, he can trust. But can Sam really trust a mercenary with that much blood on his name? And that many knives in his pockets.

WARNINGS: (there will eventually be all of these things) blood, violence, murder, shooting, stabbing, sex, blood play , food related things: malnutrition, feeding, blow jobs, bathing/washing, chronic pain. Limb loss and regrowth. Bullet wounds. Gore.

18+ Content: Make Good Choices Kids <3

Ao3

Sam follows Bucky up two flights of stairs, blinking rapidly as the sun finally hits his eyes. Once the spots clear, his surroundings come into view. They're in some sort of entry way, there's dark red carpet on the floor, leading up another set of stairs. The building looked... well if Sam was being honest with himself the building looked dilapidated. The paint was peeling, the floors were far from clean, the iron railing along the stairs looked rusted, and Sam could swear even the bricks of the walls looked faded with age.

Bucky begins climbing the stairs, he looks back at Sam once, and he can see that he's frowning, his lip pulled between his teeth. Sam hears a noise and turns quickly, his hand going into his jacket on instinct, hand wrapping around his gun. He relaxes when he sees a man sitting on the floor in the corner, he's got the morning paper spread out on his lap.

"Morning Arthur." Bucky says, his voice a sigh, drawing Sam's attention. The man says nothing as Bucky continues up the stairs. Sam takes a few steps at a time to catch up and does his best to stay a step behind him.

Bucky leads him down a long hallway and then shoves a key into a doorknob. Sam's not exactly sure why he'd need a key in this building, surly no one else was living here. Sam bit his lip and refrained from commenting. He might be a criminal, but his mother had taught him manners. Bucky pushed the door open and held his hand through it, looking at Sam, his eyes only making it to Sam's shoulders. Sam watched him for a moment, Bucky's eyes rose no higher.

Sam stepped through the doorway and was glad to see that at least the apartment looked clean, new, Sam wouldn't go so far as to call it "lived in", but there was no trash on the ground, and the walls weren't peeling. He saw a small couch, and a tv that had been plugged into the wall and set on the floor. His eyes wandered for a moment longer, noting the kitchen to his right and then he startled when Bucky pushed the door shut with a click.

His shoulders tensed as he turned to look at Bucky, he was frowning again, and rubbing at the back of his neck. Sam said nothing. He'd never see Bucky this quiet, most of the time it was hard to shut him up. He watched Bucky lift his leg and scratch the back of his calf with the toe of his boot and it hit him. He's nervous. Bucky Barnes, is nervous. Sam glances around the room again, his eyes darting this way and that, and he feels what could only be pitty. He shoves the feeling away, knowing Bucky wouldn't want it.

"It's... cozy." Sam says, narrowing his eyes at Bucky when he finally, finally, moves his eyes up off the floor. Bucky looks at him, and then snorts.

"You don't have to be nice. I know how it looks." He says, dismissively, and kicks off his shoes.

"I'd offer you a beer but we don't have any. The fridge is empty actually, so don't even bother." He says, walking past Sam as he tugs his jacket off and tosses it on the floor near the couch.

"It's a little early for beer isn't it?" Sam asked, slowly trailing after Bucky, feeling awkward in this place. Bucky ducks back out of the room he'd stepped into, only visible above the waist, his hand resting on the door frame as he looked at Sam.

"You're house just exploded. And you have a very pricey ransom on your head. Is it, too early for beer?" Bucky asks, squinting, and then he smiles, a shit eating, toothy thing that has Sam's shoulders relaxing agaisnt his wishes. He sighs as Bucky disappears out of sight again.

Bucky walks back out of the room with an armful of sheets. He waves Sam after him and Sam follows obediently, frowning at himself, a little disconcerted at how easily he follows Bucky's, unspoken, orders. Bucky stops outside a doorway and leans against the wall.

"This is you. If you wanna get some rest. I can go get us some food if you're hungry." Bucky says, gently placing the sheets in Sam's arms when he reaches for them.

"Is that safe?" Sam asks, holding the sheets close to his chest.

"It'll be fine. No one can find this place. Not if I don't want them too. They could follow me to the door and still not find it." Buck says with a sigh, his arms folded across his chest as he rested his head on the wall.

"Oh yeah? How's that work?" Sam asked, his brow furrowed.

"Magic." Buck says, his brows jumping playfully on his forhead before he walks away, leaving Sam standing in the hall outside a nearly empty bedroom.

"Bathrooms at the end of the hall on the left if you need it." Sam turned to see Bucky pointing to the left, his back turned to Sam, arm raised over his head. Sam chuckled, shook his head, and walked into the room to make his new bed.

~

Bucky leaves around noon to get them food. Sam wanders the apartment while he's gone. Doing his best not to be too nosy, but he's curious, he can't help it. He knows Bucky has money. Or at least, he used to. Sam knows he can't always work for free, depsite what people may say about him. But this building, Bucky's home, would suggest that what people say is true. Maybe he does work for free. And if he does, what does that say about him?

Sam walks past a closed door, his fingers linger on the knob a moment before he turns it and pushes the door open enough to peek inside. There's a messily made bed shoved into one corner, the night stand on the right holds a small lamp. And in the other corner, Sam's eyes widen when they land on it, a very old looking piano. Sam squints into the dark room, the curtains hanging over the window are thick, and sees that the keys are well worn, but clean, almost shining in the dark. His heart beats a little faster, like he'd just seen something he wasn't supposed to. He closes the door quickly and moves on.

The sound he makes when he walks into the bathroom would have made Bucky laugh at him. It's almost a moan. The bathroom is huge. And beautiful. And Sam thinks maybe Bucky had spent all his money on this, because he'd never seen a tub that big, it had three fucking steps leading up to it. He rubs at his face and moves to the sink. It takes him a moment to realize something's missing. A huge luxury bathroom inside a run down building, Sam thought it had everything, until he splashed water on his face at the sink and then looked up, looking for himself in a mirror that wasn't there.

He straightened up and looked around the room, no mirrors, at all. Sam frowned as he dried his face, who in the world didn't have a mirror in their bathroom? He took a deep breathe and shrugged, trying not to over think it, and walked back out into the apartment. He wandered to the kitchen, his fingers dancing across the counter tops as he moved toward the fridge.

Bucky had said it was empty, and he hadn't been lying, not really. Sam opened the door and almost laughed. The fridge was indeed bare, except for one large bottle of Worcester sauce shoved in the door. Sam picked it up, looked at the date, it wasn't expired as he'd been expecting, and put it back down. He closed the door with a furrowed brow, what the fuck does this guy eat that all he has in his refrigerator is a big bottle of fucking Worcester sauce?

Sam felt that pang beneath his ribs again and rubbed at his chest. Bucky must get so lonely. His apartment was barely furnished, had one thing in his fridge and it wasn't even something that could be eaten, and the only other person in the building, as far as Sam could tell, was a homeless man in the entry way. Sam walked to the window and looked out at the mostly empty street below, he saw Bucky turn around the closest corner and head his way. His hands were full.

He'd brought back pizza, and Chinese, and Mexican. Sam stayed silent as he watched him set them all on the counter. Bucky looked up at him eventually, a question in his eyes.

"You hungry?" Sam asked, not able to keep the smile at bay this time. Bucky snorted, dropped his eyes to the floor again and rubbed at his neck. Sam would swear he was blushing. But when he looked back up at Sam his features had been schooled.

"I didn't know what you wanted." He said, smiling awkwardly before flipping the pizza box open, taking a slice, and sliding it toward Sam. Sam reached into the box and grabbed a peice, it was pepperoni, his favorite.

"Not like it won't get eaten, I'm sure." Sam said, taking a huge bite and smiling inwardly as Bucky laughed across from him.

~

He can't sleep. It's 3am and he's wide awake. Feels like he's going to burst out his skin if he doesn't do something. He pushes himself out of bed and walks out into the hall, he takes two steps and then notices the music. 

Slow, dreamy, piano notes reach his ears. His breath catches in his throat as he walks closer to Bucky's room. He stops just short of the door and leans forward, the door is open, the music floating out into the hall makes Sam's head swim. Bucky has his back to the door, he's wearing a tank top and boxers, and his hands are moving over the keys of the old piano like they know this dance by heart. Sam steps forward, forgetting himself, and leans against the door frame, crossing his arms over his chest.

Bucky plays for a long while, moving through song after song as Sam just stands there, staring at him. Watches the way his hair sways when he moves, the way the muscles in his arms move as his fingers dance over the keys, his eyes linger here and there and he tells himself he should leave, but doesn't seem to have the will to move. His eyes linger on Bucky's hands again, watching his fingers, when the tune changes abruptly and startles him so badly he jumps. The calm melody now a twangy tune, sounding like something out of a saloon in a western. Sam's breathing is heavy, his chest heaving, his eyes move back to Bucky to find him looking over his shoulder while he plays some stupid saloon tune. A grin spreads across his face and Sam rolls his eyes.

"Very funny." Sam says, his voice flat. The tune dies down, back to something slow, and Bucky looks away.

"Thank you, I thought so too." He grins back at Sam again and then looks back down.

"You can come in ya know? You don't have to just stand in the doorway like a stalker." Bucky says. Sam opens his mouth to protest and the saloon tune starts up again. Sam sighs, glares at him, and then moves to sit on the end of Bucky's bed. He sits quietly, pulling his feet up to sit criss cross on the bed, and watches Bucky play some more.

"Couldn't sleep?" Bucky asks, glancing at Sam.

"Naw. I don't sleep well in new places." Sam says, his thumb pressing into his ankle. Bucky nods and keeps playing.

"Kinda hard to sleep when you know people want to kill you." Bucky says, it's not a question.

"There's also that. Yeah." Sam says, nodding, his eyes wide as they stare, unfocused, at the floor. Bucky snorts and keeps playing. After a moment Sam finally asks.

"So... the piano." Sam says, questioning without questioning. Bucky sighs a laugh, his hands never missing a beat as he keeps playing.

"Yep." Is all he says.

"How'd that come about?" Sam asks, because apparently Bucky isn't going to share freely.

"I've been alive a very long time Sam." He turns and looks at him,

"You get bored." He finsihes, his brows bouncing again before he looked away. Sam's about to question further when Bucky keeps talking.

"No uh... when I was a kid, we used to watch a lot of westerns." Bucky starts, his fingers moving faster across the keys, the tune moving towards that twang again.

"And Steve always wanted to be a cowboy. To just, come into town, save a nice lady from a bad man, get the girl, ride into the sunset, all that. Just, be a hero I guess." Bucky shrugged, not looking at Sam as he played.

"And that was fine. Cowboys are cool I guess. But I never really wanted to be one. I always had this weird fascination with the guy plahing the piano in the saloon. That exciting, upbeat tune, and it was almost always the same one." He chuckled and shook his head.

"I wanted to know more about him. It seemed like an interesting job to little me. Saloon piano player. Playing upbeat tunes until the cowboy showed up. Sarcastic piano playing, that's what my mom used to call it." Bucky said, and Sam could see him smiling as the tune slowed down again, the twang leaving it for something sad.

"She used to tease me about it. But she got me piano lessons anyway." Bucky looked at him, a small smile on his lips. He held Bucky's gaze until he looked away again.

"Guess it didn't really matter." Bucky sighed, his fingers slowing on the keys.

"I ended up being the cowboy anyway. Funny how things work out." His voice was quiet. His fingers still. Sam's chest ached as he watched him sit there, silently.  It didn't seem funny to Sam. Bucky hadn't wanted this life, he'd, apparently, just wanted to play piano in a saloon. Sam smiled at the thought of Bucky as a child, sitting at a piano much too large for him, learning to do something he loved. Sam swallowed hard.

"Shame." He said, and cleared his throat. Bucky looked at him, his eyes wide and questioning.

"You'd have made a great saloon pianist." Sam said, smiling softly. Bucky looked at him. And then he was laughing. Just a quick thing, his head thrown back, two cheerful laughs bubbling out, before he looked at Sam again. They sat there, looking at each other in the quiet room, saying nothing. Sam felt his cheeks burn and broke the eye contact.

"Want me to keep playing?" Bucky asked, his fingers wiggling over the keys.

"Yeah. Yeah keep playing." Sam nodded. Bucky nodded in return and turned back to the piano. Sam drooped, falling onto his side, his arm tucked beneath his head. He listened to Bucky's beautiful music and finally fell into sleep.

~

Sam wakes in Bucky's bed, a blanket pulled over him, he's alone. He rubs at his eyes and pushes himself up, off of Bucky's bed, refusing to let himself think about that. He drops the blanket on the bed and walks down the hall, he can hear someone clanging around the kitchen. The noise stops before Sam gets there and he sees Bucky in the living room, looking down at the large tv on the floor. The volume is low but Sam knows that house. Its Steve's house, his house.

He walks closer, stopping to stand next to Bucky, who greets him with a nod. They both continue watching as the news shows coverage of the bombing. Half the back of the house is gone, just a pile of rubble.

"What are they saying?" Sam asks, wrapping his arms around himself.

"They haven't found any bodies." Bucky says, knowing what Sam was asking without him having to say it.

"Never been happier to be short staffed." Sam says, he sees Bucky incline his head in agreement.

"I got a call from Torres while you were sleeping. He, Helen and Maria are at a safe house. Minor cuts and bruises. Same for everyone else he's been in contact with." Bucky says. All business this morning, Sam thinks, but is glad for it. He's glad his people are alright.

"What the fuck do we do now?" Sam asks, his eyes glued to the ruble on the television. Bucky opens his mouth but doesn't get a chance to answer.

"I believe I may be able to help with that." A deep, smooth voice answers. Sam turns quickly to the voice, startled, at the same time Bucky groans next to him and then turns as well.

All Sam sees at first is a dark, tall, shadow standing near the window. The man takes a step forward and comes into view.

"Loki." Sam says, his shoulders tense. Loki nods, his head dropping low.

"What did I say about fucking teleporting in here?" Bucky asked, his voice grumpy, but not shocked. Sam looked between them. Loki smirked at him and Bucky rolled his eyes.

"You said you could help?" Sam asked, taking a step forward. Loki nodded again, his hands clasped in front him.

"Indeed I did. My brother and I would like to offer our assistance. We'd have done so earlier but we were, engaged elsewhere." The smile on Loki's face always made Sam uneasy, but if he was here on Thor's behalf Sam could ignore that feeling.

"And you're feeling generous after returning home?" Bucky asks, his voice gravelly and sarcastic. The grin on Loki's face faded as he looked at them.

"My brother and I were... saddened, to hear about Steve's fate. He was a good partner. And more than that, a good friend. We are sorry for your loss. And we'd like to help you, in anyway we can." Sam's chest tightened, Thor and his family had known great loss. They'd also been the most loyal to Steve. Sam knew this wasn't a trick, knew that even Loki, wouldn't use their grief against them. He could see Bucky looking at Loki, his features sofened now. He and Loki shared a look Sam couldn't quite decipher, but Bucky rubbed at his neck, cleared his throat, and stepped away from the man. Sam stepped forward, his hand outstretched in front of him.

"The help would be much appreciated. Thank you." Sam said, sighed really. Loki smiled, took his hand, and shook it.

"I'll be in touch. Til then, stay put. You'll be safe here. Bye Wade." Loki nodded lowly again, a gesture of respect for Sam, and then wiggled his fingers toward the kitchen, smirking at Bucky before disappearing in a flash of green light. Sam snapped his head in the direction of the kitchen to see Wade, standing behind the counter wearing a crooked chefs hat and an apron that said "kiss the cook". Wade lifted his chin at Sam, and then smiled when Bucky groaned and threw himself onto the couch. Sam moved his eyes slowly away from Wade, his attention moving to Bucky, he'd thrown his arm over his face.

"This is a good thing isn't it? We need help." Sam said, unsure if Bucky's attitude was because of the offer or just his general reaction to Loki.

"It is. It's good. We do need help. And they are... helpful." Bucky said, Sam could see a grimace on his face under Bucky's arm, his mouth turned in an agressive frown. Wade snorted in the kitchen but said nothing.

"Hang on a second." Sam mused.

"Ope, he's catching on." Wade commented as Sam arranged his thoughts.

"You said no one could find this place if you didn't want them to." Sam said, dragging out his words for effect. Bucky moved his arm from his face and looked up at Sam.

"Did I say that?"

"Yeah. You did. You also said, it was magic. I thought you were just being facetious, but you were being serious." Sam said, a grin spreading across his face. Bucky looked at him, several different emotions passing over his face before he apparently decided not to argue this with Sam and dropped his arm back on his face. Sam bent over the couch, moving closer to him.

"Loki enchanted this place for you didn't he?" Sam asked, poking his finger agaisnt Bucky forehead.

"He's got him now folks." Wade's voice, now doing his best impression of a sports announcer, carried in from the kitchen. Sam smiled and pressed his finger harder into Bucky's head.

"Did you two..." Bucky arm moved just enough for him to glare up at Sam. His eyes narrowed in a warning. Sam could hear stifled laughter in the kitchen.

"Did you two have a thing?" Sam teased. Bucky scrunched his nose up and stood up abruptly, a strangled sound leaving his throat as he looked between Sam and Wade. Sam looked at Wade, met his eyes for a brief sencond and watched Wade nod, once.

"Oh my god you did. You slept with Loki so he'd enchanted your apartment." Sam gasped, his mouth dropping open in shock. Wade cackled in the kitchen and then dropped a pan with a curse, disappearing below the counter as he dove after it.

"I did not sleep with him so he'd enchant my apartment." Bucky said, offense clear in his voice.

"I slept with him. And then, later, much later, he enchanted this place for me. Two separate events!" Bucky argued, pointing at Sam accusingly. Wade popped back up over the counter after grabbing his pan.

"Was it though? Like... really? Cuz if I remember correctly, just from the story you told me, there was definitely at least one sexual situation either after, or during, said enchanting." Wade smiled, pointing his spatula at Bucky, his hip cocked to the side. Sam had to stifle a laugh at the image. Bucky's face was red now, he looked between them both and growled.

"I fucking hate you both." He said, stomping past them toward his room. He spun on his heel and pointed at Wade.

"And you! You just wait and see if I ever share any stories with you again. You traitor." Bucky spat, turned around again, walked into his room, and slammed the door. Sam looked from Bucky's door, back to Wade. Wade smiled at him and went back to cooking.

"Whatcha makin?" Sam asked as he walked over to the small overhang that he was sure was ment to be a bar, though there were no stools beneath it.

"Pancakes. Blueberry or chocolate chip? I can also do strawberry but not very well, and last time I made them for Buck, he did end up puking, so ya know, just be warned." Wade waved his spatula around as he talked, pointing to this and that as he moved around the kitchen.

"Chocolate chip for me." Sam said, he was trying not to stare. He'd never seen Wade without his mask before. He'd known, and seen part of him, his hands and part of his face at the house. But seeing his whole face, and his arms under his short sleeves was different.  But then he was smiling at Sam and all he could see was his eyes. They were warm, and inviting.

"Me too! Bucks a Blueberry guy but we don't have to fault him for that." Wade teased, jerking the pan in his hand and sending the pancake into the air, it flipped twice and then landed perfectly back in the pan. Sam smiled and watched Wade dance around the kitchen, humming to himself, the song sounded familiar, Sam thought it might be a Spice Girl's song.

"So. Him and Loki huh?" Sam asked, smiling at Wade as he slid a plateful of pancakes to him. Wade nodded and grinned.

"Oh yeah. You let a pretty guy with vanishing knives enchant your house one time! And he just comes and goes as he pleases." Wade said, shaking his head with a twinkle in his eye. Sam laughed and took a bite.

The pancakes were delicious, warm and fluffy and perfect. He ate quietly as Wade made pancake after pancake, humming to himself as he moved like a hurricane through the kitchen. Sam ate his breakfast, and noticed for the first time since Steve had been taken from them, that there was no tension in his muscles. He didn't feel like he had to constantly look over his shoulder. He took another bite, watched Wade flip a pancake onto the ceiling, and thought he felt dangerously at home here.

[rhosyn-du]

Never make a mess when a total catastrophe will do - Chapter Six

Pairings: Jimon, past Clace, background Clizzy, a bunch of other minor background pairings Rating: Explicit Art: @cor321​ Beta: @all-thestories-aretrue​ Tags:  Alternate Universe - College/University, fake dating, oh my god they were roommates, friends with benefits, idiots to lovers, pining, miscommunication, holidays, drinking games, mistletoe, symbolically significant Oreos, domestic fluff, brief mention of past character death, Jace’s self-worth issues deserve their own tag Summary: What do you do when you find out your sister is not only dating your ex and love-of-your-high-school-life but is also bringing her home for Christmas? Bring your annoying, hot, annoyingly-hot roommate as your fake boyfriend to show them you're totally fine with it, obviously! There's no possible way this could backfire. Link: AO3 , Tumblr Master Post

Chapter Six

The irritation had been building all day, like sand rubbing under his skin, and it was especially irritating because Jace knew he didn’t have a good reason for it. Nothing was actually wrong, just a string of little frustrations that hadn’t let up all day, from the ancient coffee maker in their kitchen that didn’t start brewing when it was set to, meaning he had to go to his morning classes without any caffeine, to discovering he’d left his history textbook at home when his professor announced a surprise open-book quiz, right on through to missing his bus home and having to wait forty minutes for the next one, meaning he walked in the door with less than fifteen minutes before his friends were supposed to show up at his place for a group study session.

“Oh, hey,” Simon said when he walked through the door. “You’re home. I was starting to wonder if I got the day wrong and we weren’t having people over tonight, but then Bat texted asking if he should bring Spicy Ranch Doritos—which, obviously—so I figured you were probably just running late, which it turns out you were.”

“Excellent observational skills.” Jace tossed his bag onto the couch, not looking at Simon, and headed for the kitchen, intending to grab a beer from the fridge. Except when he opened it, there weren’t any left, and he realized he’d completely forgotten to go to the store the day before, because of course he had.

He slammed the refrigerator door shut, taking out his frustration on the appliance. It wasn’t as satisfying as he’d hoped.

“Everything okay?”

Jace spun around to find Simon in the doorway, watching him with an expression that held both wariness and concern.

“Everything’s peachy.”

“Yeah, I can tell,” Simon said mildly. “You definitely use the word ‘peachy’ in casual conversation when things are going great.”

Jace took a deep breath, let it out slowly. “Look, I’ve had a shitty day, all right? I’ve had a shitty day, and we’re out of beer, and I don’t need you trying to get me to talk out my feelings or whatever it is you’re trying to do right now.”

“Okay,” Simon agreed. “What do you need?”

Jace blinked. “What?”

“You don’t need to talk about your shitty day,” Simon said, moving into the kitchen to lean on the counter next to him. “So what do you need? Lily’s bringing beer, so that’s already taken care of.”

It should have been a simple question to answer, but Jace wasn’t used to people asking what he needed. Jace wasn’t used to considering what he needed.

“I don’t know.”

“What about a distraction?” Simon offered.

“A distraction,” Jace repeated, skeptical.

“Yeah.” Simon was grinning as he hooked his fingers through Jace’s belt loops and pulled their bodies together. “A distraction.”

Jace licked his lips, dropped his eyes to Simon’s mouth. “People are going to be here in eight minutes.” He didn’t have any objections to spending those eight minutes making out with Simon.

Simon’s grin widened. “Guess I’d better work fast, then.”

And then he dropped to his knees.

Jace sucked in a sharp breath as Simon popped the button on his jeans. “What are you doing?”

“I know you’ve had a shitty day,” Simon said, pulling down Jace’s fly, “but you can’t be that out of it.”

Jace let out a soft laugh and let himself slump back against the refrigerator door as Simon took out his rapidly-plumping cock and worked him to full hardness with his hands and mouth.

He was used to Simon teasing, giving him almost enough and then pulling back until he was desperate with it. This was the opposite, with every touch, every lick and swallow driving him relentlessly toward the edge, the frustration of his day bleeding away as Simon blew him with expert efficiency.

In almost no time at all, Jace was struggling to keep his legs under him as he felt his balls start to draw up, and he was so close—

And that was when Simon, the absolute fucker, pulled off his dick to remark with far more casualness than the situation called for, “Did you lock the door when you got home? Because people are going to be here, like, any second.”

Then his mouth was back on Jace’s dick, swallowing him down like it was his job, and Jace was cursing because no, he hadn’t locked the door and any second their friends could walk in and see—Jace, desperate and falling apart; Simon, swollen red lips wrapped around Jace’s cock taking him apart—and that was—it was—

There was a sharp knock on the door, and Jace came with a strangled shout.

Simon worked him through it, pulling back only when a second knock sounded at the door. “Be there in just a minute,” he called, sounding far too composed for someone who’d just given fucking fantastic blowjob.

Simon stood, pressing a quick kiss to Jace’s lips before saying, “Somehow, I just knew you’d have a bit of an exhibitionism kink,” and heading for the door, leaving Jace to fumble his pants closed and try look like he hadn’t just had his brain sucked out through his dick.

“You all right, man?” Bat greeted him as he entered the kitchen, arms loaded with far too many bags of Doritos for six people.

“Uh,” Jace said intelligently.

“Heard you shouting and I figured you must’ve hurt yourself. You were pretty loud.”

“I heard you down the hall,” Maureen added from the living room.

“Yeah, just stubbed my toe,” Jace lied, heading out to the living room. “Somebody left his stats book on the floor, and I tripped.”

Simon flashed him a shit-eating grin. Jace had a hard time not staring at his lips, still red and slightly puffy. “You should really be more careful.”

“Going to go help Maia bring stuff up from her car,” Maureen announced, holding up her phone. “Be right back.”

“You do know,” Jace told Simon in a low voice, “that I’m going to get payback for that, right?”

Simon’s smile grew smug. “Yeah. I do.”

After an hour of going over his notes and rehashing the earlier quiz with Lily, Jace was feeling much better about his history class, and even had some ideas for his end-of-term paper. They all took a break when the pizza they’d ordered arrived, and Jace found himself squeezed between Lily and Simon on the couch.

“So,” Lily said around a mouthful of pepperoni and cheese, “you two ready for your big wedding performance this weekend? Please say no, because I’ve still got fifty bucks riding on you not making it through this without panicking.”

“Your concern is so touching,” Jace said. “I really don’t know what I’d do without such supportive friends.”

“Based on what I saw the night we met, you’d spend a lot more time getting drinks thrown in your face by girls whose names you forgot,” Maia said.

“I did not forget her name,” Jace protested. “I hit on her girlfriend.”

“Not actually better,” Maureen observed.

“Okay, one, I had no idea they were dating, and two, not my fault she flirted back.”

“Just try not to get any drinks thrown in your face at cousin Rachel’s wedding,” Simon said, patting his knee condescendingly. And then left it there, like it was totally normal for him to touch Jace casually like this in front of their friends.

“Would it be cheating if I bribed Simon’s sister to take someone Jace hooked up with as her plus one?” Lily asked.

Jace thought she really didn’t need to. He was already panicking.

“Yes,” said Maia and Bat at the same time Simon said, “Oh god, please don’t.”

“You guys are no fun,” Lilly pouted, reaching for another slice of pizza.

“Speaking of Becky,” Maia said with affected casualness, “I was wondering if you could tell her—”

“Give me your phone,” Simon interrupted, holding out his hand. This had the effect of removing his hand from Jace’s knee, and Jace tried not to miss it.

“Sure,” Maia said slowly, pulling her phone out of her pocket. “Why do you need my phone?”

Simon took the phone and pulled up Maia’s contacts. “So you just text my sister instead of asking me to be your messenger pigeon.” He passed the phone back. “Or call her. I’m not picky as long as I don’t have to be involved.”

Maia stared at the phone for a few seconds, then shrugged and put it back in her pocket with a sigh. “Yeah, okay. Fair. I guess I can, like, be an adult about this or something.”

“Good,” Simon said, his hand making its way back to Jace’s knee. No one else seemed to notice, and Jace tried not to react. “Please do it before Sunday so I don’t have to listen to Becky failing to be subtle about asking about you.”

Maia bit back a grin. “She asks about me?”

“Who wants to place bets on how long it takes Maia to actually call this girl?” Lily asked.

~~~

“Okay, you need to turn down the charm a little bit or I think Bubbe Helen is actually going to try to adopt you,” Simon said as Jace returned from his sixth dance with Simon’s grandmother. Jace didn’t think Simon needed to know that she’d used every one of those to grill him on his family, his plans for the future, his intentions toward her grandson.

“Just tell her you’re not into incest,” Jace told him, eliciting a gagging noise from Becky, the only one of Simon’s relatives still sitting at the table with them.

“Your boyfriend is gross,” Becky informed Simon, stabbing a spear of asparagus from her plate.

Jace grinned at her. “Simon wanted me to turn down the charm. I’m just trying to be accommodating.” He grabbed Simon’s hand and lifted it to his lips to kiss his knuckles. It was something they’d been doing all day, exchanging little gestures of affection like they couldn’t quite keep their hands off each other. Which was actually kind of true in Jace’s case.

It had started during the ceremony, Jace bumping Simon’s shoulder when he noticed him start to tear up during the vows. He’d meant it to be lightly teasing, but Simon had simply flashed him a watery smile and taken his hand, lacing their fingers together. Jace’s stomach had made an odd little flip and he’d squeezed Simon’s hand, and they just...hadn’t stopped touching each other. All through the rest of the ceremony and reception, it was a stream of constant little touches that made Jace wish for things he couldn’t have, and yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop touching either.

It didn’t help that Simon looked really good in a suit.

“That’s playing dirty,” Becky huffed. “I can’t hate you when you make my brother smile like that.”

“It’s all part of my devious plan.” He threw a sideways glance at Simon, hoping to catch the smile only to find him glaring daggers at his sister.

“Aww,” Becky cackled, “are you embarrassed? That’s adorable.”

“Embarrassed that you’re my sister? Yes.”

“Consider it payback for your presence throughout my entire adolescence.”

Jace leaned in. “Is there a story here? It sounds like there’s a story.”

“Dude, don’t encourage her.”

Becky leaned back in her chair, a predatory gleam in her eyes. “I have so many stories.”

“Oh, look.” Simon said, standing suddenly and pulling Jace along with him. “There’s Aunt Ruth. We should really go say hi.”

“I’ll still have stories to tell your boyfriend when you get back,” Becky called after them. “Jace, ask him about the llamas!”

Jace followed Simon, barely holding in his laughter as they ducked through the crowd of wedding guests, and then through an unobtrusive door that led out into an empty hallway.

“I’m so sorry about her,” Simon said, finally turning to face him and looking genuinely apologetic.

Jace shook his head. “Don’t be. I was having fun. I can see why Becky and Maia get along so well.”

“Because they’re both more than happy to tell embarrassing stories about me?” Simon joked.

“Can you blame them? It is pretty fun to watch you get all worked up.”

“You do seem to enjoy getting me worked up,” Simon agreed with a quirk of his eyebrows. “But my cousin’s wedding really isn’t the place for that.”

Jace glanced around the empty hallway. This was a bad idea. A really, really bad idea.

He turned back to Simon, a suggestive smile playing across his lips. “You sure about that?”

“Jace.” Simon’s voice was warning even as his eyes flicked to Jace’s lips and back up again.

Jace curled a hand around the back of Simon’s neck. “Because I’m not sure there’s any such thing as a bad place to get you worked up.”

“Literally everyone I’m related to is in the next room,” Simon protested. But he didn’t pull away.

“Fair point,” Jace conceded. He glanced around the hallway, then tried the nearest door. It opened into a room just large enough to not qualify as a closet. Jace raised a questioning eyebrow at Simon.

Simon looked dubiously at the stacks of office supplies that lined one wall, then back at Jace. “How are you so good at convincing me to make bad decisions?” Simon asked before grabbing him by the tie and dragging him into a kiss.

Jace grinned against his mouth as they stumbled into the room. “It’s my superpower. I got bitten by a radioactive advertising executive as a teenager.”

“Fuck,” Simon muttered, kicking the door closed behind them. “You can’t make Spider-Man references when I’m kissing you; that’s cheating.”

“Yeah?” Jace asked, pushing him against the wall that wasn’t occupied by reams of printer paper. “Does it get you hot when I talk nerdy to you?” He tugged at Simon’s shirt, pulling it free from his pants. “Or does everything I do get you hot?”

“Definitely not everything.” Simon nipped along his jaw. “Your ego, for example? Very unattractive.”

“Now you’re just making things up.” He slid a hand down to cup Simon through his pants, and Simon bucked into the touch. “My ego definitely gets you hot.”

“I know—fuck.” He rocked into Jace’s hand again. “I know some guys have trouble separating their egos from their dicks, but I never thought you’d be one of them.”

“Any association between my ego and my dick is well-deserved.” He tugged at Simon’s belt. “Don’t bother trying to argue. We both know it’d be a lie.”

“Yeah, that’s not actually how arguments wo—oh.” Simon cut off, eyes wide, as Jace dropped to his knees.

Jace smirked up at him. “I figure the best way to avoid staining your suit is if you come in my mouth. Unless you’ve got objections.”

“I have exactly zero objections to having your mouth on me.” Simon curled a hand around Jace’s jaw, drawing his thumb along Jace’s bottom lip. “Like, ever.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Jace flicked his tongue out to catch the tip of Simon’s thumb and reached to finish unbuckling his belt.

He froze at the unmistakable sound of the door opening behind him.

Jace’s eyes were trained on Simon’s face, so he saw the emotions play out across it in real time: surprise, then panic, then a slowly dawning horror.

“Bubbe Helen!” Simon’s voice just barely managed to avoid being a squeak. “Hi! We were, uh, we were just—” He looked down at Jace helplessly.

The thing was, Jace had always been good in a crisis. No, that wasn’t exactly right. He’d always been calm in a crisis. Probably as a result of having endured so many starting at such a young age.

So, his gaze and voice were completely steady as he took Simon’s hand in both his own and asked, “Will you marry me?”

He heard a voice behind him that sounded suspiciously like Becky mutter, “Oh my god.”

Simon stared. “Wha—uh. Yes?” His eyes flickered up toward the doorway, then back to Jace. “Yes,” he said more firmly. “I will definitely marry you, which is of course why you’re on your knees right now, and…”

His voice trailed off as Jace pulled his ring—his father’s ring, the only ring he ever wore—off his own finger and slid it onto Simon’s. It was a little loose, but not enough to slide off.

Simon flexed his hand, the fluorescent light above glinting off the brushed platinum. And then he was pulling Jace to his feet and into a kiss that held a decidedly hysterical edge.

The kiss was short-lived, interrupted by a very deliberate throat clearing. Jace kept Simon’s hand clasped firmly in his as he turned around, the metal of the ring pressing into his skin a reminder of what he’d just done.

Bubbe Helen was watching him with a decidedly unimpressed look. Behind her, Becky had a hand clapped over her mouth, smothering what could have been either an overflow of emotion or laughter.

“Young man, did you just propose marriage to my grandson in a storage closet?”

Jace pasted on his best facsimile of a sheepish smile and prepared to lie his ass off.

~~~

“Look, I panicked, okay?”

Outside, rain poured down in heavy sheets, obscuring the passing scenery and dampening any other sounds. It made the inside of the van feel cut off from the rest of the world, like they were alone in their own tiny, bubble universe.

A muscle in Simon’s jaw twitched. “You said that already.” He kept his eyes on the road.

Jace’s eyes fell to the steering wheel, where the soft platinum of his father’s ring still rested on Simon’s finger. “You didn’t have to say yes.”

Simon didn’t respond to that, and Jace wished he could see his eyes, could find even the tiniest clue to what he was thinking. He’d barely said anything since they made their hasty exit from the reception. At least Becky and Bubbe Helen had agreed not to mention Simon’s supposed engagement to his mom until he could tell her himself.

The silence stretched between them as Jace stared out into the blurry downpour. The one saving grace to all of this was that at least no one else knew about it. Their friends would never let them hear the end of it if they found out. And Jace’s family, god, that would be a disaster. Izzy would probably try to plan the whole thing and they’d somehow end up actually married before Jace could even explain the situation to her.

“You know,” Simon said into the silence, “I hated you before I even met you.”

Jace didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know if there was anything to say to that. That was okay, though, because Simon kept talking.

“Clary’s been my best friend since we were kids. My mom likes to tell the story of how we met on the playground and spent the whole day trying to build a moat around the swing set so no one else could play on it, but I don’t actually remember it. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t friends with Clary. She’s just always been a part of my life. The best part, sometimes.”

He took a deep breath, threw a quick glance at Jace before continuing. “So, of course I fell in love with her.”

The words hit Jace like a punch to the gut, and he was very, very glad Simon’s eyes were back on the road and he couldn’t see the jumble of emotions that Jace was sure were written all over his face.

“We were in sixth grade when I realized,” Simon continued. “I think I’d probably been in love with her for a while, but it just sort of hit me one day that I was just completely and totally gone for her. And it only took me like ten minutes after that to figure out that she didn’t feel the same way about me, but that was okay. I mean, it wasn’t. That kind of thing never is when you’re twelve.” He let out a mirthless laugh. “Or when you’re an adult either, I guess. But it was as okay as it could be because I figured I just had to wait. Clary was the most important person in the world to me, and even though she didn’t love me like I loved her, I knew I was the most important person in her life, too, so I just figured.” He shrugged. “I figured that eventually she’d realize that we could be, you know, more.”

His voice got soft as he continued, “And then she met you.”

Jace sucked in a sharp breath. “Simon, I—”

“I’m glad she did,” Simon interrupted, and he sounded like he meant it. “Even though it sucked at the time. Every time she mentioned you, I just wanted to punch you in the face. Which is why I always made an excuse not to meet you, by the way. I thought if I did and you really were as perfect as she described you, I would actually hit you.”

“I did always wonder about the mysterious best friend who was never around,” Jace said around the odd lump in his throat he couldn’t seem to swallow down. “She talked about you all the time.”

“Yeah?” Simon sounded genuinely surprised. “That’s actually really good to hear. And it makes me even more glad she met you, because her falling for you, even spending so much time with you, it gave me time to get over her.”

The knot in Jace’s throat loosened an inch.

“By the time you guys broke up, I’d actually dated a couple of people who weren’t Clary, and even though I didn’t feel as strongly for any of them as I did for her, I realized that part of what makes our friendship so special is that it is friendship. And I think we might have really fucked that up if we tried to be anything else, so I’m glad we never did, because my friendship with Clary is still one of the best things in my life, and I’m pretty sure it always will be.”

“Is that what you wrote Random Afternoon about? About you and Clary?” It wasn’t what Jace meant to say at all, but he opened his mouth and the words just came tumbling out.

Simon’s let out a soft huff of laughter. “No.” He shook his head. “It’s, uh. It’s not about Clary.”

Jace didn’t understand what was so funny, but he wasn’t going to ask. Just like he wasn’t going to ask who the song was about. Wasn’t going to think about why he cared so much.

“She was my first love, too,” he said instead.

Simon nodded slowly, digesting this information. “I wondered. I mean, when Clary used to talk about you, it sure sounded like you loved her, but once I found out you were, you know, you, I wasn’t so sure anymore.” He was fiddling with the ring, now, twisting it slowly around his finger with his thumb. Jace wondered if he knew he was doing it. “I didn’t think you were a relationship kind of guy.”

“I’m not.” That wasn’t what anyone wanted from him. Even Clary, who really had loved him once upon a time, hadn’t wanted him to stay. And even if someone did want that from him, he was pretty sure now that he wouldn’t know how to give it to them.

“And there hasn’t been anyone since Clary who’s made you reconsider?” Simon’s hands were still on the steering wheel now, his face impassive in the flickering light of passing cars.

Jace thought back to that night weeks ago, when Simon told him that maybe they wouldn’t be a mistake, and just for a second he’d thought—he’d hoped—but of course that wasn’t what Simon had meant.

“No.”

“Of course not. Stupid question.” Simon flashed him a smile, but there was a worried crease between his brows.

The last thing Jace wanted from him was pity, especially over this. “So, tell me about the llamas,” he said, desperate to change the subject.

Simon winced. “Can we just pretend Becky never mentioned llamas?”

“Nope.” Jace grinned. “If you don’t tell me, I’ll get Maia to ask Becky. I’m sure your sister would be happy to share.”

“You’re seriously the worst,” Simon said before launching into a long, involved story about his and Clary’s third grade trip to a llama farm and how Becky had thought it was hilarious to tell them that llamas were venomous.

“So, there I was, just covered in llama spit,” Simon finished as he unlocked their apartment door, “crying my eyes out because I thought was going to die, with Clary shouting at the poor farmhand that her dad was cop and he was going to go to jail for murder. And of course Becky didn’t even get in trouble or apologize. She just started getting me llama-themed birthday gifts.”

“Just so we’re absolutely clear,” Jace snickered, following him inside, “I’m laughing at you, not with you.”

“Which is one of many reasons I should have known better than to let you meet my sister. Speaking of which,” he pulled Jace’s ring off his finger and held it out, “I wouldn’t want to forget to give this back.”

Jace looked at the ring, then back up at Simon, swallowing hard. “You should keep it. Until we break up.” Something flashed in Simon’s eyes, and Jace hurried to correct himself. “Until we tell our families we broke up, I mean. In case you need to, I don’t know, sell the story.”

“Jace, I know what this ring means to you. I can’t just—”

“You can.” He reached out and closed Simon’s fingers over the ring, holding them there. “I trust you to keep it safe.”

Simon stared at him for a long moment, eyes searching. “Okay,” he agreed. “Until we break up.”

Something in Jace’s chest loosened, and he stepped back, letting Simon’s hand drop from his. “Cool. I’m gonna heat up some pizza rolls. You want me to make enough for you?”

“Sure,” Simon said. “Yeah, pizza rolls sound great. Cheeseburger flavor, not triple cheese, though.”

“Obviously,” Jace said, heading to the kitchen. He didn’t think about the ring, or how naked his hand felt without it. Or why it mattered so much to him that Simon agreed to keep it, if only for a little while.

[narisjournal-blog]

A Way With Words

Fandom: Cobra Kai

Pairings: Samantha Larusso x Robby Keene, Robby Keene x Miguel Diaz (platonic)

Word Count: 3490

Warnings: sexting

Notes: So in this fic Sam and Robby are together, and there are some strong Kiaz vibes. I’ve made it platonic, but it could get dirtier. I’m not comfortable posting that, though as they are underage.  Please let me know what you think, I’m needy.

This would take place in season 2 after the Lawrusso double date, imagining that Sam and Robby didn’t go to the party and the shit didnt hit the fan. Thanks for reading x

A Way with Words

Robby stood at the door to Jonny’s place taking in what lay before him. His father had clearly attempted to clean but there wasn’t much you could do when so much was ingrained. The couch was old and stained, the walls an off-white that made it feel darker, and there was a constant musty smell that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. At least he had got rid of all the empty beer bottles, Robby thought.

‘I know it’s not much, not compared to the Larussos,’ Johnny said, a hint of shame in his voice. ‘But it’s home. It’s safe. You know you’re welcome any time.’

Robby sighed as the door closed behind him.

‘How long do I have to stay here?’ He asked.

He looked round and he knew from the look in Johnny’s eyes that he had hurt him.

Johnny shook his head, resigning himself to the abuse he probably deserved.

‘Just a couple days. While The Larussos are away.’

Robby gave a wry smile. ‘They don’t trust me with their daughter.’

‘Definitely not,’ Johnny laughed.

Robby rolled his eyes.

‘Oh come on, like you weren’t gonna make a move the second her parents left?’

After a beat, Robby shrugged. ‘Maybe.’

Johnny gave him a slap on the back.

‘Come on, you can suffer a few days with your old man. I think you’ll find a lot more freedom here.

‘Where shall I put my things?’

‘Right through here,’ Johnny said, leading him to the small spare room.

‘I’ll be through there. Make yourself at home.’

He left and Robby slumped down on the bed.

This is a good thing, he told himself with his head in his hands. He’s trying. That’s more than he ever has before.

He had been really resistant to the idea when His father and Mr Larusso had finally sat down to talk and come to an agreement that Robby could stay with his Dad while the family were away. Even Johnny agreed it was better for Robby to live with the Larussos for the time being because he really didn’t have that much to offer in terms of comfort or luxury.

Robby had felt disappointed that he wouldn’t get to spend the time with Sam. It was so rare they got any time alone and he had thought maybe things might heat up a little while her parents were away.

Apparently Mr Larusso was well versed in teenage boy thinking.

He started to unpack his bag when there was a knock at the front door.

‘Carmen?’ Johnny’s voice said.

‘Johnny, I’m so sorry to do this, I know it’s a lot but it’s an emergency.’ She sounded upset. Carmen? Robby thought, trying to think if he knew her.

‘Hey hey, slow down,’ Johnny said. Robby continued unpacking clothes, thinking nothing of it.

‘Are you ok? What happened?’

‘It’s my mother. She collapsed and they don’t know what’s going on, they think she may have had a heart attack. She’s in hospital out of town and’ Johnny cut her off.

‘Yaya? Oh my God I’m so sorry.’

‘Can Miggy stay here for tonight so I can be with her? Please?’

Miggy? Who the hell was... and then it dawned on him.

Miguel.

Instantly Robby’s fists clenched and he rose to his feet.

Why did he think it would be any different? He started throwing his clothes back into his bag haphazardly.

‘I uh...’ Johnny’s voice continued, sounding uncomfortable. ‘I kinda have Robby...’

‘Please, Johnny. We’ve got no-one else.’

‘Mom, come on. I’ll be fine on my own.’ Miguel’s voice.

Carmen snipped at him in rapid Spanish, then quickly switched back to English.

‘He’ll be no trouble, and I’ll pay you for food,’ she added.

‘You don’t have to do that, I...’

Robby knew what was coming. ‘Yeah, sure he can stay. I’ll just have to talk to Robby, since you guys aren’t exactly best of friends.’

‘I don’t want any trouble,’ Miguel mumbled.

Robby slammed his fist into the wall and instantly regretted it as pain shot through his whole wrist.

He sat back on the bed nursing his hand.Swirling around with the anger, he could feel the hurt and the disappointment tightening his throat. His eyes burned and he shook his head to try and control it.

Why did he ever believe it could be any different?

There was a knock at the bedroom door. He stood, throwing his bag back over his shoulder.

The door opened. Johnny looked so awkward, it was pathetic. Like he was trying to pretend the decision was hard.

‘Robby, you probably heard. Miguel’s-‘

Robby cut him off.

‘Yeah I heard. I should’ve known.’

He flexed his hand to see if the pain was easing but it throbbed once again and he winced.

‘Are you ok?’ Johnny nodded to Robby’s hand.

‘Yeah I’m just peachy,’ he retorted.

‘Did you punch a wall?’

Robby didn’t answer.

‘Oh for God’s sake.’

‘Yeah well I should have known it was stupid to think I was your priority for once when you just jump at the chance to help your favourite son,’ Robby said.

Johnny scoffed. ‘Oh will you quit being such a baby. The guy’s going through a hard time, would you just put your hate to the side for one night and be a civilised human being?’

‘Whatever, I’m going back to the Larussos,’ Robby said and made to barge past Johnny.

He forgot just how strong and stubborn his father could be. Johnny grabbed his arm and shoved him back into the room. He stumbled backwards and then found his balance to pull his fist back.

‘The hell you are. What, you just give up? This is your problem Robby, you make it so hard. I know I haven’t been perfect but I’m trying, ok? Any time I try to do right by you, to be there for you or whatever, it’s like you’re just waiting for me to fuck it up and then you shut me out again.’

‘What am I supposed to do? I can’t rely on you,’ he said.

‘Come on just take a second to calm down. Find your centre or whatever that bullshit is that Larusso is teaching you.’

Robby had been caught off guard with a blow he never expected from his father. And he was right, he did need to calm down. He took a deep breath, closed his eyes and tried to focus on his breathing.

He could feel his body calming and he hated that his father was right.

When he opened his eyes, he saw Johnny’s pleading face. Robby felt his defences ease.

‘I guess I’m just disappointed, Dad.’

Johnny’s eyes fell to the floor.

‘I get that, you have every right to be. But I can’t turn him away at a time like this, Robby. It’s the right thing to do. Deep down you know it.’

Robby sat back on the bed, resigned.

‘No fighting, alright?’ Johnny added, pointing at Robby.

‘But I-‘ Robby began to protest but he got cut off.

‘No fighting. My house, my rules.’ Robby exhaled.

‘I’m gonna go see if he’s alright,’

Johnny added then left.

Robby flopped back on the bed and ran his hands through his hair. He pulled his phone out of his pocket to see a text from Sam.

‘How’s it going?’

He wrote back. ‘Not great. Your ex is staying too.’

Almost right away she was ringing him.

‘Miguel is staying with you?’ She asked sounding perplexed.

‘Yeah. Weird right?’

‘How come? Like was it planned, did your dad know?’

‘No, it’s an emergency. His grandma is in hospital.’

‘yaya? Shit...This is going to be really hard for him.’

Of course she would sympathise with Migue, he thought rolling his eyes.

‘Do you think you can be nice to him?’

‘I’m not an asshole Sam.‘

‘No but your defences are up when you’re around your dad and Miguel. You know I’m right.’

Robby sighed. She was right. After what seemed like a long silence, he spoke again.

‘Ok. Tell me how.’

‘Just try and empathise, Robby. I know it’s hard because it’s him, but just try and think about what he’s going through. ‘

Robby sighed.

‘For me?’ She added in that way she knew would make him melt.

‘Sure.’

‘I miss you’ she added, changing the subject swiftly. ‘I was kinda hoping we might get some alone time this weekend.’

‘Me too.’

‘It’s no fun all alone in this big empty house. I miss kissing you.’ Sam’s voice was soft, playful but almost shy.

‘Maybe I can come over tomorrow?’ Robby posed.

‘I can’t stop thinking about all the things we could do if you were here.’

Robby, heart pounding, drew breath to ask for more detail, but he was interrupted .

‘Robby?’ He heard Johnny shout. Then a knock at the door before it pushed open.

‘I’m getting pizza, do you want some?’

Robby sighed. ‘Sam, I gotta go. Text me. I wanna know.’

He hung up.

‘Uh yeah, I’ll go for pizza.

‘Pepperoni?’

‘Sounds good.’

‘Ok, well can you come out here and keep Miguel company while I’m gone? He’s pretty down.’

Robby couldn’t stop himself rolling his eyes. He stood and headed out the door nonetheless.

‘Is he crying?’ He asked with disdain.

Johnny slapped the back of his head on his way past.

‘Don’t be a dick,’ was all he said.

‘Ow!’ Robby rubbed his head, shocked at his father’s response.

‘Back soon,’ Johnny added as he left and closed the front door behind him.

Robby stood at the far side of the room trying to compose himself.

He looked across at Miguel, who was sat on the couch staring in the vague direction of the TV, although it wasn’t on. The boy looked so vulnerable, brown eyes wide with sadness.

Robby approached him.

‘Hey you know you’re supposed to turn it on first, right?’ He said.

Miguel seemed to snap out of some daydream and gave a faintly sarcastic smile.

‘You’re funny,’ he muttered. There was a long pause before Robby spoke again. He was surprised to realise he actually felt nervous.

‘Hey, you want a beer?’ Robby asked.

Miguel furrowed his brow in confusion. ‘We’re not...’ Robby raised an eyebrow.

‘Sure,’ Miguel shrugged, not wishing to argue.

Robby went to the refrigerator and grabbed two of Johnny’s Coors Banquets, looking around for a bottle opener. He opened them both and handed one to Miguel, who took it cautiously. ‘Are you sure? Won’t Sensei be pissed?’

‘Not at you,’ Robby said pointing the bottle to Miguel and sitting on the couch next to him. ‘You can get away with anything right now. I’m using you as a human shield. To your Grandma,’ He added, taking a big swig.

Miguel sighed, raised his bottle and said ‘to Yaya,’ then drank. He pulled a face at the taste and Robby laughed.

‘Yeah it’s shit.’

‘Why are you drinking it then?’

‘Because I can,’ Robby shrugged, taking another big swig.

They drank in silence for a while until Robby knocked back the last of his beer and stood to put the bottle on the table.

He didn’t realise his phone had slid out of his pocket - the shorts he was wearing were tight and had terrible pockets. He always managed to lose his phone when he wore them.

Robby was looking through the cupboards to see if there was anything decent to eat when he heard Miguel exclaim.

‘Woah, dude. You should really lock your screen.’

Robby whipped round to find Miguel holding his phone and reading something.

‘Hey!’ He yelled. ‘Give that back.’ He volted over the back of the couch to try and catch Miguel in a headlock so he could grab his phone back but Miguel was too fast and on his feet before Robby landed.

‘I miss your lips against mine,’ Miguel read, mocking in his tone. ‘I’ve been thinking about the way-’ Robby had grabbed him and pushed him to the wall but Miguel still managed to hold his phone out of reach and finish reading.

‘About the way you pressed me against the wall when you kissed me. I wish we hadn’t got interrupted.’ He laughed but relented and let Robby snatch his phone back. Robby considered punching him in the stomach for good measure, but thought better of it.

He opened the message from Sam and read through it again.

‘That’s private,’ he said, cheeks flushing against his will.

‘Well you certainly made an impression on Sam,’ Miguel added.

Robby was trying to think of some retort, but his mind was still half on what Sam had said.

‘You shouldn’t have read that,’ he said, glaring at Miguel.

‘Ok, I’m sorry. Come on I’m not trying to start anything... it was just there. I need something to take my mind off things anyway.’

‘And my private conversations are what you chose?’

Robby read the message again. He didn’t know where to go with that. He tried to think of what to say back to her but kept drawing a blank. He’d never been that good with words.

‘Are you ok?’ Miguel asked, actually sounding like he meant it.

‘Yeah. I just...’

Robby looked up and saw Miguel was staring at him, so he looked away quickly. He wished it wasn’t Miguel that was here right now. He really didn’t want to mess this up with Sam.

‘Look I’m sorry, but you don’t need to be embarrassed.’ Miguel continued to watch Robby. ‘Are you gonna reply?’

‘What? No that’s none of your business! I’m not talking about this. Just keep out of it ok?’

Robby stormed back to his room and slammed the door.

Miguel rolled his eyes and sighed, taking another drink of the awful beer. He had thought they were getting somewhere, but Robby was just so highly strung it was impossible.

He was trying to work out if he should feel jealous when Robby’s door opened again slowly. Miguel looked round and Robby stood half in half out staring at his phone still.

He looked up.

‘Should I reply?’ He asked.

‘Dude, yes. You have to reply. You can’t leave her hanging like that.’

Robby bit his lip, thinking.

‘What... what though?’

He walked back over to sit beside Miguel again.

‘Just tell her what you want.’

Robby looked up at Miguel, doubt in his eyes.

‘Look, if you were with her right now, what would you do?’

Robby shifted uncomfortably.

‘You do know what to do, right?’

‘Oh fuck off,’ Robby retorted. ‘It’s just not the same. Like, if I was with her, it would just happen. I get a read off her energy, you know?’

Miguel laughed. ‘You are so Miyagi-do.’

‘Just help me ok? What do I say?’ Robby pleaded.

‘Pick up where she left off.’

Robby’s thumbs hovered over the keyboard but nothing came.

Miguel sighed and held his hand out for the phone.

‘What are you crazy? I’m not giving you my phone again.’

‘Look I’m not gonna send anything, I’ll just start you off, ok? Come on. I have a way with words.’

‘Oh like you have a tonne of experience or something?’ Robby scoffed.

‘No, I just...’ he sighed. ‘I read a lot of fanfiction. Don’t,’ he added when Robby laughed. ‘You can learn a lot from fanfiction. Come on.’

Reluctantly, Robby handed over his phone.

He watched over Miguel’s shoulder as he typed and laughed in disbelief at the explicit picture Miguel was painting with his words.

‘Oh my god,’ he said. ‘I can’t send that.’

Miguel didn’t answer while he concentrated.

‘Ok I’ve changed my mind. Give me my phone back. That’s straight up porn, there’s no way I’m sending that.’ Robby tried to grab his phone but Miguel instinctively dodged and held it out of reach again while he finished typing.

‘No come on I said I changed my mind,’ Robby tried again, grabbing Miguel this time and shoving him to the floor, straddling him with his arm across his chest to hold him down.

Miguel gasped and looked at Robby with guilty eyes.

‘What?’ Robby asked, not catching on. Miguel looked down at Robby’s phone, the message bar now empty. It had sent.

‘Fuck,’ Robby said, grabbing his phone back but not letting Miguel up. ‘Are you fucking kidding me?’

‘I’m sorry, you knocked me. I didn’t mean to - I’m sorry,’ Miguel garbled, flinching away but also trying not to laugh.

Robby pressed his arm into Miguel’s chest harder, which made him cough. The cough turned to laughter and Robby wasn’t sure why but he ended up laughing too. It was so absurd and he didn’t know what else to do.

That was when the front door opened and Johnny came in.

Robby realised he still had Miguel pinned and quickly let him go.

‘Were you guys... fighting?’ Johnny asked, not sure what he had walked in on.

‘We we’re just messing around,’ Robby said quickly, glancing at Miguel who was brushing himself off and standing up.

Johnny narrowed his eyes looking from one boy to the other. ‘Whatever. Come give me a hand with this Robby,’ He added and handed him the pile of pizzas.

Robby looked again at his phone, still in shock at what had just happened, gave another glance back to Miguel who was trying not to laugh again. He shoved it in his pocket, and put the pizzas on the table.

Johnny was at the fridge.

‘Did you drink my beer?’ He asked.

‘Sorry sensei,’ Miguel said quickly. ‘It was my idea. I needed something to take my mind off Yaya.’

Johnny looked at them both again, suspecting there was some kind of conspiring happening.

‘Alright...’ he said, looking from one boy to the other. ‘Just nobody tell Carmen alright, I don’t wanna be on her bad side.’

He grabbed a beer, opened it and threw himself onto the couch.

‘You guys wanna watch a movie?’

Robby handed a pizza box to Miguel, grabbed the other two then leaned in as he walked past.

‘He’s totally trying to bang your Mom,’ he muttered, grinning.

***

The three of them had settled into the film and the pizza, all crammed onto that couch. Robby and Miguel had spent half the time pushing each other and complaining that the other was taking up too much space.

Robby felt his phone buzz in his pocket and instantly remembered what had happened. He shared a worried glance with Miguel, who also felt it buzz.

He pulled his phone out to look. It was from Sam, of course.

‘Robby that was hot,’ was all she said. Then the three dots appeared to show she was writing back.

Robby tapped Miguel’s leg, although he was already reading it. They grinned at each other. Miguel shrugged as if to say ‘I told you.’

After a few minutes her message came through. Robby didn’t even try to hide it from Miguel now. His heart raced as he read through her words, telling him what she wanted. Miguel exclaimed and tried to pretend he was coughing so Johnny wouldn’t catch on.

Robby shifted awkwardly. Part of him wanted to go to his room and be alone, but then he also still needed help. The cursor blinked at him.

Miguel, who was now leaning quite heavily into him to see what he was writing, held his hand out. Robby gave him his phone with no hesitation this time.

‘If I was there with you now I would...’ he typed then handed it back.

Robby sighed. He started typing something out as Miguel reached over and grabbed a couple of slices of pizza. He held one out to Robby.

Robby took it absently. He was staring at the screen again.

He looked up helplessly at Miguel. Miguel nodded encouragement and Robby added more to his text.

‘What are you boys doing ?’ Johnny asked, noticing their focus had shifted.

‘Homework,’ Robby said quickly.

‘Group chat,’ Miguel said at the same time.

After a beat, Miguel clarified. ‘It’s a study group chat.’

Johnny shrugged it off. He didn’t believe them but they weren’t fighting so he honestly didn’t care.

Robby sent his message after a nod from Miguel. He left his phone unlocked on his knee and they both stared at the TV while they waited.

After several minutes, a picture flashed up on Robby’s phone. Sam had sent a selfie in her underwear.

Robby gasped and grabbed his phone quickly and locked it, but not before Miguel had seen.

Miguel just gave him an approving slap on the back.

Robby cleared his throat.

‘Yeah I’m gonna get a shower,’ he said, standing up a swiftly and leaving the room.

‘Is he alright?’ Johnny sighed.

Miguel grinned in that knowing way of his.

‘He’s fine, trust me. He’s just really excited about this homework.’

***

If anyone wants to be tagged in future writes then let me know.

[sheabuttahwrites]

[I Know]

. five : two and a possible

four

I finished up my ‘morning’ routine and walked back over to sit next to him, finally ready to eat something. “I'm hungry. What we having?”

“Oh shit!” 

“What?”

“I forgot to get food.”

I tilted my head, my features overtaken by displeasure. “You’ve been eating hella takeout, huh? You know that’s not good.” We’d had this conversation a couple times before. He was generally a healthy guy, but his diet could be so trash at times. 

“I mean, I was. But I’ve been at my mom’s house eating Thanksgiving leftovers the past few days.”

I snorted. “You are such a man,” I playfully huffed, shaking my head.

“I’ma do better,” he mumbled listlessly with a laugh. “You can order something, though. I’ll pick some stuff up tomorrow after my last meeting.”

“Ok. We can just get pizza. That cool?”

“Yeah. ”

“You got dessert at least?”

He stared at the wall in deep thought, his mouth doubtfully agape. “ …I think I have ice cream?”

“Ok.” I left my seat with the kitchen in mind solely because of the obvious lack of confidence he had just displayed. “Come look with me.”  

“What?” The presence of a frown was more than apparent on his face.   

“Come with me,” I insisted, unfazed. 

“For what? You aren’t a guest anymore.”

“I am, too.” Now I was frowning. 

“No, you're not. You know where the kitchen is, the pantry, the fridge; you know where everything is,” he listed candidly, but stood to his feet anyway.  

“So. You don't have to be rude.” I rolled my eyes, turning to walk out with him in tow. I’d had to hide the smile trying to creep onto my face. I loved messing with him. 

He smacked his lips, clearly agitated, and I couldn't hold my laughs. “I’m coming, woman.”

We stepped into his kitchen and I pulled the freezer drawer open, searching for the ice cream I had sort of been promised? Curious, I paused to look in the refrigerator. Other than a few bottles of water, a carton of eggs, a couple carryout plates and various condiments, there wasn’t much inside. “Damn, you weren't lying. Ain’t shit in here.”

“I told you.”

I laughed as I closed the doors and went back to the freezer. I moved a bag of broccoli to the side, then a bag of pineapple chunks. “Found it,” I gleefully announced, lifting the pint of vanilla Haagen Dazs. I removed the top and the seal was still there. Perfect. I turned to show him just as he was coming out of the pantry.

“Here’s some stuff my sister had.” He held up a box of fudge brownie mix in one hand and an unopened bottle of vegetable oil in the other. 

“Oh, hell yeah,” I approved with a satisfied nod, before putting the ice cream away. That was right up my alley.

He chuckled, shaking his head, as he sat them both on the counter. I walked over and slid them closer to me. “I swear you a junkie.”

“Glucose gang ‘til I die, cuz.”

“You bangin’ sugar?” I looked up at him and we fell out almost immediately. I leaned over onto the marble in front of me, cracking all the way up while he stood beside me doing the same. “You got a problem.”

“Nah, that’s why I’m so sweet.” I winked and stuck my tongue out before laughing a little harder. He just grinned at me, his eyes slightly narrowed. “Now, go order the pizza,” I snappily instructed, waving him off and pulling out one of the chairs at the island.

“That wasn't sweet at all.”

I took a seat and pompously crossed my legs, clutching my knee with laced hands and being sure to keep my eyes away from him, even as I spoke. “This is just payback for making me spend the day by myself tomorrow.” 

He smacked his lips. “Girl, hush.” He was so serious I couldn't help but laugh, but also don’t be telling me to hush. He went to leave and I reached out to push him. The joke was on me, though, because he had gotten too far. All I had done was push air and almost fallen out of my chair. “Look at you. So sweet I don’t know what I’ma do with you.” 

I snorted. “Shut up.”

“You feel like baking for real, though? I need one of them fire ass strawberry cheesecakes.”

“I got you, babe. You know I always feel like baking.”

“Bet. Text me a list so I can get the stuff tomorrow.”

“Ok.”

He came back with his laptop and credit card, settling in the seat next to mine. Normally this part would take a while, because one of us—me—would have a time trying to figure out what they wanted. But that wasn’t the case today. I was starving and my pizza order didn't usually get too complicated anyway. I quickly decided on pepperoni and green peppers, and he went with chicken and spinach. I couldn't wait to eat some of mine and his. 

“So… how has it been? How are you?”

I shrugged my shoulder, taking my focus to my hands down on the counter. I really didn't want to talk about this. Honestly, it was the furthest thing from my mind. But I knew he was probably worried. “…Ok, I guess. I’ve been good.”

“Have things gotten any better? Be honest.” 

I looked up, seeing the care and concern that I always saw in his eyes. And that shit made it extremely hard for me to lie to him. I wasn’t a good liar either. So, I shook my head. It had actually gotten much worse since the last time he and I saw each other. But, that part, I had to keep to myself. “Not really. Just the same ol’, same ol’.” 

His gaze never left me, but he didn’t speak another word. Probably just didn’t have anything to say. I could definitely understand.

At this point my only concern was her wellbeing. I couldn't give anymore advice, because I had long tapped out. It had all been falling on deaf ears anyway. We’d known each other for about a year and a half now, and nothing had changed. I didn't mean to judge her, but she seemed content just where she was. Content with disarray. In my eyes, her reasons for staying were bullshit. Because love damn sure wasn't keeping her. Love wouldn't be doing half the shit she was enduring. It certainly wouldn't have her going into another man’s home just to get away. 

Nah.

Love is what had me making accommodations every sixty days for a woman who wasn't mine. It’s what had me turning down the advances of other women when I didn't have to. It’s the five hundred dollar mixer and numerous other baking supplies in my kitchen that I don't even use. It’s what kept me up at night asking myself what the fuck I was doing, and actually attempting to justify it. Love is me throwing everything reasonable, and everything sensible, and everything rational, and everything logical out the window when I knew better.

I felt like it was time for me to make a choice. For my own good if nothing else. Without question, things just weren't gonna work themselves out. I needed to start using my better judgment. It was on me, because she wasn't moving. I needed to take myself out of the picture. I knew this, but it was hard as hell to even think about. A sign from God is what I really needed. Soon. Because I felt that my next move was about to be a mistake no matter what. I hated to admit it, but I was getting tired of going to pick her up every time that ungrateful ass nigga left, having so much fun with her, and then taking her back to him. I wanted her. So fucking bad. And I knew the feeling was mutual. But being on the sidelines of her life was slowly breaking me. I had to accept that whatever I was to her now was likely all I would ever be. Equally, I couldn't stand seeing her allow someone to treat her so poorly when she was worth so much more. I just wish that I had been able to make her understand that. I wish all of it could've gone differently. 

“So, what you been up to?” she quietly asked, breaking the silence.

“Not much. Just working, the occasional event, linking with my boys. You know, the usual.”

“Any new possibles?” She couldn't even get it out before her lips started to form a grin. This was what she had really meant by her previous question. She always found a way to work it into the conversation. And each time was less cunning than the last, even though she was for sure trying to be slick. 

“Oh, of course.”

“Ewww,” she drawled, simultaneously smiling and scrunching her face in disgust. I chuckled. 

“What?”

“‘Oh, of course’!”

I dropped my head, laughing at her exaggerated imitation of me. I did not sound like that. “I'm just saying. Women love the king.”

“Oooh. You weren't this cocky the last time I saw you,” I teased lightheartedly, clutching my imaginary pearls. He was so tickled.

“I’m joking.”

“Nah, you're serious.”

“I know what I bring to the table, but I'm not over feeling myself.”

“I hear you, homie.”

He cut his eyes at me as I kept up my production of faux amazement. “You get on my nerves so bad, Jay.”

I grabbed his shoulder and leaned over on him, laughing too hard. Yeah, I was picking, but I couldn’t be mad. He was telling the truth. Women did indeed love his ass. Whenever we were out, I would catch them staring constantly. A couple of them had even had the gumption to approach him. But seeing him interact with the women who actually knew him, the women in his family, I could just feel it. They really loved him. His mom, his best friend’s mom, his little sister and a cousin were the ones I’d had the opportunity to witness him in conversation with. The adoration was practically radiating from the screen during their Facetime calls. He even had an aunt who would send him care packages from time to time. I understood fully. I absolutely adored him myself. He just had this light about himself and it was fiercely captivating. Even if I’d wanted to let go, I don't believe I could. His place in my heart had been solidified. I couldn't imagine my life without Omari. I didn't even like to think of the possibility. 

“So, these possibles,” I continued, a smile still lingering. “Is there looove in the air?” 

“Nah.” He reclined in his seat and propped his elbow on the back. In a matter of seconds, all enthusiasm had left his body. “I’m not really on that right now.”

I frowned. He wasn't usually so dry with me. “Did something happen?” 

“Nah, not really.”

“So, what’s up? You don't have your eye on anybody?” I found that very hard to believe. 

“I mean…” The sly smirk that made its way onto his face caused me to drop my concern like a hot potato. I knew he was holding out. 

“Mhmm. Spill, bruh.”

He reached up to rub the back of his neck, laughing a little as he leaned toward the island again. “I didn't say that, I just been chillin’.”

“Nah, something’s going on. We tell each other everything, now cat got your tongue.” 

“It’s not even like that. To be completely honest with you, it just feels like nobody is genuine anymore. Now, these women either just out here on the come up or they're only interested for superficial reasons. They don’t really like you. I can’t mess with none of that.”

“Well, I can definitely understand not being able to trust.”

“You know? It’s hard. And I do want that special something with someone, someone I can do life with, but I don't know. Risking your heart like that is just…” 

“Yeah. I get it.”

“So, yeah. That’s all it is.”

“Maybe you can start looking in some different places than usual. Where you be?”

“I'm not looking for anything currently.”

“Why do you sound so sad when you say that, though?” 

He glanced over at me and laughed, but I didn't return his supposed joy. I can’t lie, it was a bit troubling. We had spoken on this kind of stuff before, but he had never seemed so affected by it. “I’m not sad. I’m good, I promise.”

“Ok, so what qualities would your ideal lady have?” I switched to a lighter, more giddy tone, in hopes of making his mood follow. 

“Really?”

“Yeah, I wanna know. Maybe I can help you out a lil bit.”

[artificialqueens]

Galactica, Chapter 41 (Group Fic) - TheDane/Veronica

A/N: Click here if you’re looking for previous chapters (or here if you’d rather read on AO3). 💫

Last Chapter: Halloween

This Chapter: Things look up for Violet but turn iffy for Adore.

***

Pearl swayed a little in her heels as Adore’s lips trailed down her neck. They were half-dressed at this point, making their way to Adore’s bedroom. Adore’s jacket and shirt had been discarded, leaving her in just a thin undershirt, suspenders dangling around her waist. Pearl’s skirt was around her ankles, sweater somewhere on the floor.

She stepped out of the skirt, a sharp inhale leaving her as Adore shoved her roughly up against a wall. Her hands threaded into Adore’s hair, which was up in a tight bun, and immediately began pulling it apart. She loved the whole butch look that Adore was rocking tonight, but she loved it even more when she got to unravel it. Pearl’s hand traveled along the wall, reaching for the door handle, finally pushing it open and pulling Adore into the bedroom.

“God, you’re so fucking hot,” Adore breathed, pushing Pearl onto the bed.

Pearl smirked, enjoying the desperate edge in her voice as her hands groped for her bra clasp, the unrefined way she clawed at her panties to yank them down. She spread her thighs, head falling backward, hand tangled into Adore’s hair to guide her along.

“I love your pussy,” Adore continued, lapping her up vigorously, fingers digging into her thighs. “You’re perfect, so perfect…”

Adore kept lavishing praise on her, and Pearl could feel her muscles tense. She tried to squeeze her eyes shut, to close it out and focus on the way her body was responding, but it quickly became impossible. She took a deep breath and rolled Adore over onto her back, thighs straddling her face.

“Stop talking.”

Adore panted up at her, surprise all over her face as her eyes went dark. “Are you gonna punish me?”

The way she just immediately folded, immediately ceded all power to Pearl, was even more intoxicating than if she’d been submissive all along.

“I should,” Pearl said hoarsely. She ran a finger along Adore’s bottom lip. “I should show you who’s boss.”

“Do it.” Adore trembled beneath her, gripping her thighs for dear life.

Pearl took hold of the headboard and lowered herself until her pussy was pressed up against Adore’s face, riding her slowly, dictating the pressure and pace, all the while watching the blissed-out expression in Adore’s eyes. By the time Pearl came with a satisfied groan, Adore’s panties, her usual boy-cut cotton briefs, were soaked through.

It was hard not to laugh. This was the same girl who, just hours earlier, had been manhandling her on the dance floor as if she were the king of the world. And now, all it took was a few swipes of Pearl’s thumb to reduce her to a whimpering, shaking mess.

“You like that?”

“B-baby, please,” Adore begged, pupils fully dilated, hands clutching at Pearl’s hair and shoulders. “I need to come, I need-”

“Shh, shhhh…” Pearl silenced her with a kiss, finally plunging her fingers inside to give her what she so desperately wanted, stroking her g-spot until she cried out, then continuing to play with her until she was wrung out, too weak to even lift her head.

Afterwards, Pearl sucked her fingers into her mouth with a satisfied grin, letting Adore curl against her as usual, wrapping her warm body into a sweaty embrace.  

***

Sutan woke to the ever familiar scent of lavender, and the sensation of Violet’s hair up his nose.

He huffed, moving his face away, only to smile when Violet groaned, her hand coming up to grab his arm and pull him back down, forcing him to mold himself back against her back, the bed creaking underneath them.

Last night, they hadn’t returned to Sutan’s place as he had originally expected, instead, they had ended up in Violet’s apartment because Violet had insisted that she would die if she didn’t get pizza from a specific pizzeria near her building, and who was Sutan to argue with that?

“Morning gorgeous.” Sutan smiled, pressing a kiss against Violet’s shoulder, but the action only earned him another deep groan, Violet for once very clearly hungover. “Where is your bed frame?”

“Only rich people have bed frames.”

“Sure.” Sutan snorted, burrowing his face in Violet’s hair, pulling her against him.

It was strange to be in Violet’s bedroom, Sutan realizing last night with a flash of embarrassment that this was the first time he had been inside Violet’s apartment. He had picked her up from her building countless times, but they had always stayed at his, Sutan not even entertaining the idea that he should come up.

“Is there any leftover pizza?” Violet looked over her shoulder, a little bit of the mascara she hadn’t managed to get off smudged under her eye.

“You only had two slices.” Sutan had bought a pepperoni pizza for himself, Violet for some godforsaken reason going straight for pineapple and only pineapple. “I put it in your fridge.”

Sutan had never expected Violet to be someone who enjoyed cooking, but he had been shocked when he had opened her refrigerator last night, a bottle of carrot juice, a carton of almond milk and a half eaten takeaway salad all he had spotted in there.

“I’ll go get it.” Violet slipped out of bed, and Sutan couldn’t help but smile as she was wearing the tiniest pair of panties, her Hepburn jewels still around her neck since Sutan hadn’t been able to figure out the lock with a drunk and sleepy Violet in his arms.

Sutan sat up, running his hand through his hair as he looked around the bedroom, a tower of brown moving boxes in the corner. Violet’s clothes were all put away, two clothing racks holding dresses Sutan immediately recognized, but beyond the wardrobe, the room was strangely bare and devoid of personal touches.

“Huh.” Sutan bit his lip, getting out of bed. He grabbed his undershirt from the floor, cursing to himself when he realized that he didn’t have his reading glasses, using his phone without them a surefire way to feel like shit after a night out.

“Do you want coffee?” Sutan turned his head to see Violet standing in the door, now wrapped in a robe, a plate and a slice of pizza with missing bites in her hand. “I’m afraid I only have instant.”

“Instant is fine.” It wasn’t really, not when he was used to his top of the line espresso machine, but he wasn’t going to create a fuss. “Do you have anything that isn’t pineapple pizza?”

“I can make oatmeal?” Violet smiled, and he guessed that somewhat explained the strange lack of food in her fridge.

“How about I take us out for breakfast?”

***

“Raaaaaaaj,” Raven whispered, her lips right next to her fiancée's ear. “Wake up.”

They had come home from the party last night, Raja helping her out of her costume, the two of them falling into bed, drunk sex always a fucking treat, the feeling of Raja’s fake mustache against her inner thighs so strange they had both been hiccuping from laughter.

“Mmmh?”

“I’m hungry.” Raven smirked as she felt Raja’s hand travel up her back, the other woman finally awake.

“Make breakfast then.”

“I wanna go out.” Raven nuzzled her nose against Raja’s neck.

“You can starve for all that I care.”

Raven laughed. Grumpy Raja was one of her favorites, the whine in her voice one that never came out anywhere else, being allowed to see her like this, a treasure Raven guarded with her life.

“Please-” Raven nuzzled her face even closer against Raja’s neck, pressing kisses to the warm skin. “I want buttered croissants.”

“Mmh-” Raja hummed, her fingers finding the ends of her hair. Raven knew she wasn’t actually tempted by the promise of bread, Raja beyond annoying with how easy it was for her to not give in to culinary temptations.

“If you put some pants on, I can call for a car-”

“No can do buttercup.” Raja started petting her hair. “The moment I leave this bed, I have to work.”

“Seriously?” Raven sat up on her elbows, Raja actually opening her eyes now, a bit of glue still on her top lip. “Don’t look at my tits.”

“Sorry,” Raja smirked, her eyes still focused on Raven’s chest.

“You have to work? Again?” Raven wanted to throw a fit. It wasn’t a new thing that Raja worked on the weekends, it wasn't a new thing that she was constantly fighting for her attention, but this, this was a new low, both of them naked and hung over. “It’s Sunday?”

“The preparations for the Spring collection are right around the corner. You know people depend on me and Fame has unfortunately handed me a mug.”

Raven huffed, throwing herself back down on the bed, turning her back to Raja as she pulled the duvet under her chin.

“Princess-” Raven felt Raja curl around her back. “Don’t be upset.”

“And what about me? I depend on you too,” Raven grumbled, the words caught by the duvet, but Raja somehow still heard them.

“I know.” Raja peeled the duvet down, pressing a kiss against Raven’s shoulder blade. “How about we order in, eat in bed-”

“Hm?” Raven turned her head.

“And when I’m done with my very important job,” Raja smiled, her hand sneaking under the covers and settling on Raven’s hip. “I spend the very important money I make on buying very important things for our trip to Aspen?”

“Mmh,” Raven chewed her lip to keep the smile off of her face. “I guess that’s acceptable.”

***

“Ah, that hits the spot.”

Violet smiled to herself as she watched Sutan take the first sip of the double espresso he had ordered. They were sitting at a small cafe, Sutan actually cleaning up surprisingly nicely for the fact that he had only had his costume from last night at her place.

“Glad to see your craving could be satisfied.”

“Oh?” Sutan grinned, tapping his foot against hers underneath the table. “Do you really think you have room to be snarky, Miss Pineapple?”

Violet bit her lip, her cheeks heating up. She couldn’t exactly remember the entirety of last night after bumping into Courtney, Raven talking her into yet another round of shots, but she did remember Sutan’s hand on her back, did remember unlocking her door and whining when she couldn’t get her necklace off.

��Concentrate on your breakfast.”

Sutan laughed, trapping her foot between his own before he dug into his cinnamon French toast. Violet herself had opted for a sunnyside egg and a smoothie, the pizza slice she had devoured before Sutan was ready to leave sitting heavy in her stomach.

Sutan was chatting about last night, telling her a story about Detox, the two men surprisingly close for how different they were. Violet wasn’t truly listening, but it didn’t seem to matter, Sutan more than happy to just up the space.

“Lovely eyes-” Violet was pulled out of her thoughts, the man watching her with his brown eyes. “You’re tapping along with the music.”

Sutan was pointing with his fork, and Violet looked down at her fingers, her almond-shaped nails tapping on table.

“Huh…” Violet hadn’t even noticed, hadn’t even listened to the music, but now that she was aware, she could hear the notes of Waltz of the Flowers, the cafe for some reason playing Tchaikovsky's Nutcracker. The music was such an ingrained part of who she was, the ballet one she had danced every December since she was 6 years old. “I’m sorry.”

“Bringing back memories?” Sutan smirked, a kind look in his eyes, but Violet felt her entire body run cold.

“Yes.” It did bring back memories, the sensation of leg warmers and sitting on hard dance floors, of chewy protein bars and being soaked in sweat, of the unbelievable satisfaction when a move was finally executed just right and she could collapse in exhaustion. “But how-”

“Did I know?” Sutan put his fork down, clearly beyond pleased with himself.

“Yes.”

Violet hadn’t told anyone in her new life that her first career had been as a dancer at the New York City Ballet, that she had been a soloist on the track for principal before her life had changed forever at 17.

“I’m a modeling agent, lovely eyes.” Sutan took his coffee cup. “I can spot a dancer from a mile away, and everything about your posture tells me that you have done ballet at some point.”

“Ah.” Violet nodded, a rush of relief coursing through her. Sutan didn’t know, hadn’t truly guessed who she used to be. “You got me.”

“What can I say,” Sutan grinned, putting his cup to his lips. “I’m the best.”

She’d tell him one day, tell him her entire story, but that day wasn’t going to be today.

***

When Violet had first started in design, she had wondered why they had several couches scattered around the room. It had started to make sense as she had seen just how social her new coworkers were, the furniture often taken up by people talking, working or even napping.

Violet had never used the couches before today, her desk and her desk chair all she needed, but while Trixie was upstairs for the  department head meeting discussing the Spring line, she had figured that it was time to test out if Trixie was actually serious about wanting them to relax.

Which was why she was on the couch, attempting to pass the time while she waited anxiously for Trixie to return.

It felt incredibly weird not to be in the boardroom, to not be standing against the wall taking notes as Fame and Raja presented the new concepts for the collections, Violet’s spine itching with annoyance over the fact that she wasn’t there.

She had considered texting Courtney, but she wasn’t sure Courtney could actually tell her anything interesting, the blonde incredibly talented at hearing but not listening, so instead, Violet had brought her backlog of magazines with her to work.

Violet had started collecting fashion magazines at 17. At first, she had only read American Vogue, but as she had started to get more and more into fashion, her monthly collection had started to grow.

Now, she bought American Vogue, British Vogue, French Vogue, Italian Vogue, Marie Claire, Harper's Bazaar and French and American Elle, her preferred newsstand knowing her by sight.

Violet knew that she could look online for fashion inspiration, knew that it was what everyone around her did, but she had always preferred either print or watching the real people of New York walk by.

Violet wasn’t sure what she was looking for, but as she flipped through the pages, she knew she’d find it sooner or later, at least one of the spots in the Spring collection belonging to her, even if she had to fight for it. Violet almost rolled her eyes as she revealed yet another page of british street style, the fabrics and cuts absolutely horrendous.

Every time the door opened, she would sit up straighter, thinking it was Trixie back with news. After 3 or 4 excruciating false alarms, he finally returned, smiling at the designers, knowing they were all on pins and needles at this point.

“Attention Team! This is not a drill!” Trixie joked. “Everyone meet me in the conference room in 5 minutes for an update on the Spring collection!”

Violet stood up immediately, hurrying directly to the conference room with her notebook, excited to hear the news. Trixie was busy sticking a handful of reference photos onto the whiteboard: A ceramic cup, an egret, a skyline of what looked to be a coastal village somewhere in Turkey, a wheat field at sunrise, a collection of fabric samples stapled together into little booklets the designers could take with them to their desks.

Apparently, this year, Fame wanted a light and breezy Spring collection. Functional and elegant with a touch of whimsy. The color palette was true Galactica: dove grey, cream, straw, ivory flecked with gold, very sparing accents of delicate pink and dusty lilac.

Violet’s mind raced with ideas of ways to manipulate silk so that it rustled and and fluttered beautifully on the runway. Of clean, beautiful lines: crisp linens and soft, feathery edges. Her fingers itched with excitement to get started as she carefully wrote down their deadlines: Thursday to turn in sketches for the in-store prêt-à-porter collection, and the following Thursday for the opening and closing runway pieces.

She knew, of course, that Alexis, Jovan, Gia, April and Maxwell had guaranteed spots in the collection, that group of designers the defining factors in the current Galactica style. She was also well aware that as a new designer, she would be doing foundation pieces.

She would be expected to pay her dues and make sure her collection pieces supported whatever final direction the senior staff chose, but Violet had never been a settler, and she was going to give being in the collection her best shot.

***

Adore sighed happily, swaying to the pounding bass of the house music, surrounded by a sea of sweaty club goers. She and her band had just played an electrifying late-night gig and she was still high on the adrenaline.

She loved being out, loved showing people why her and her band were the next big thing, but the best part of the night was that Pearl was there, had been right there in the front of the crowd cheering her on.

“Hey…” Aja came up to her, a look of concern creasing their brow, Aja’s outfit for the night a light blue latex number.

“What’s up, baby?” Adore asked, pressing a kiss to Aja’s cheek, wrapping her arms around their waist. They’d known each other since Adore first moved to New York to live with Bianca, almost 10 years ago, had been classmates at the performing arts high school along with the rest of her bandmates.

“Uh, it’s just… Dahlia is being a bit of a thot and Pearl looks… Into it…” Aja bit their lip.

Adore turned to look where Aja was gesturing, saw her friend and bass player sitting perched on a stool, back arched, plaid shirt almost entirely unbuttoned and slipping off one shoulder. Pearl stood close to her… Maybe a little closer than needed, a beer in her hand as she chatted her up. There was a bored, almost challenging look on Dahlia’s face as Pearl spoke, and the whole thing set Adore’s teeth on edge.

“Well…” Adore swallowed, fighting her impulse to march over and pull them apart, fixing a nonchalant expression on her face as she turned back to Aja, “They’re both big flirts. So what?”

“So, I don’t know if I’d be cool with it. I’m shocked you are.”

“There’s no reason for me to be a jealous bitch. I knew that Pearl was like that when we got together, so how could expect her to change? And anyway, she’s coming home with me, not Dahlia,” Adore said.

“You sure about that?” Aja asked.

Adore’s eyes narrowed, shooting a nasty look at her long-time friend, who laughed.

“Alright, alright. I didn’t realize that you were so chill.”

“I’m the chillest,” Adore said, taking a sip of her cocktail. But whether she was trying to convince herself or Aja, she wasn’t totally sure.

*

“So can I buy you a drink?”

“You can fuck off,” came the sneering reply.

“Oof,” Pearl smiled, resting her head on her hand, her elbow placed on the bar. “Kitty got claws. What got you in such a mood?”

“The company.”

There was something strangely familiar about Dahlia, but Pearl was 99% sure she hadn’t had sex with her before. She’d given up trying to place her, instead just enjoying her ice queen vibe. “I don’t think you mind my company all.”

“Don’t I?” Dahlia raised an eyebrow, her plump lips pursed, her beautiful face the picture of disinterest, but Pearl had caught her eyes flickering to her arm, had seen her notice exactly how strong Pearl was in the places where it was needed.

“I know women.”

Dahlia was hot as sin, everything about her soft and delicate, her dark hair styled in careful silky curls, the freckles on her shoulder the most delicious tease, the garterbelt that poked out from under her denim shorts promising Pearl that she’d find mouth-watering lingerie underneath Dahlia’s clothes if she ever got that far.

“I’m sure you do.”

“I could show you?”

“No.”

Pearl had to bite her lip to swallow a moan. There was something about her hyper femininity, something about how she was just a little bit mean, Dahlia radiating a promise of pink pillows, cherry chapstick and fruit scented shampoo that Pearl hadn’t even realized she was missing so fiercely it made her nipples tighten.

“Also,” Dahlia looked over her shoulder. “Your girlfriend is right over there.”

Shit.

***

Violet walked out of the elevator, a cup of steaming hot coffee and a banana in her hand. It was a little after 8--security had finally realized that her company card opened every door and locked her out, but she could still make her way to the design floor without a hitch.

Violet had come directly from the gym, her hair in a ponytail and still damp from her shower, the shoes on her feet running shoes instead of the heels she normally wore. She’d had this routine for awhile now--getting to the office early to do her makeup and hair in the big, clean Galactica bathrooms where, unlike the gym, she didn’t have to fight for mirror space, smile at strangers, or pretend to be interested in small talk. She’d have time to finish her routine and settle in to work just as the other designers began trickling in.

Today though, as she opened the big double doors to the design department, she was surprised at the sight that met her. It wasn’t one lone designer who’d arrived earlier than normal, or two people finishing a project, but rather, at least five of her colleagues sitting at their desks, busily working away already.

Violet had no idea why they were there, seeing so many of her coworkers this early honestly shocking. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like they had noticed her, so she made a beeline for the bathroom, vowing to herself that she’d get fully ready before coming into the office from now on, the risk of her coworkers seeing her as anything less than perfectly put together not one she was willing to take yet.

***

Maxwell stood by the printer, waiting for the sketches he had done on his iPad to come out. For years now, he’d been almost solely responsible for all of the business separates in the Galactica line, and it suited him just fine.

Over the years, he’d perfected the kind of crisply tailored and yet graceful and feminine lines that Miss Fame preferred, which had earned him her favor again and again and again.

When he’d seen the inspiration for the Spring collection, he was immediately flooded with ideas, and after almost 2 days of working, he was quite pleased with the sheer volume and range of choices he was going to present at the meeting, already imagining the pleased nod he’d get from the head of the company.

Violet appeared in the little printing alcove, doing a jump of surprise when she saw someone else in there. “Max, hi-”

“Sorry to scare you,” Maxwell smiled. “My job’s almost done,”

“Thanks,” Violet said, taking a step in, their elbow almost bumping against each other as she snug a peak at the printer. “Wow,” Violet turned her head, looking at Maxwell. “Are these your sketches? There’s so many already.”

“Well, you know Fame and Raja. They like to have options. ” Maxwell grinned, knowing that if anyone did know, it’d be Violet. “My technique with prêt-à-porter is to give them as many choices as possible, with lots of variation. Kind of ‘throw all the spaghetti at the wall and see what sticks’ approach, you know?”

Violet nodded, a very serious expression on her face as she listened.

“I started with a bunch of different suit options, and then I’ll use these to whip up all the other coordinating separates.”

“I just can’t believe that you’ve done so many in only 2 days,” Violet said, looking quite uncertain.

“You’re pretty fast yourself, so I wouldn’t worry.” Maxwell picked his sketches up. “Are you working on any for this week, or straight for the couture spots?”

“Yes.” Violet moved up, pressing on the printer to make it spit out her own sketches before she apparently realized that just yes wasn’t actually an answer to his question. “Prêt-à-porter isn’t my strength-“ Violet bit her lip, “But I’m not a one trick pony, and I want to play ball.”

“My advice? Be ambitious. This isn’t the time to hold back,” Maxwell said, smiling kindly. In spite of his initial reservations, he’d found himself quite charmed by the newest designer. And if he could help her get a leg up, he definitely wanted to do that, adding, “Let me know if you want me to review anything before Thursday!”

“Thanks,” Violet smiled. “I appreciate that.”

***

Courtney rushed down the street in the chilly air, in a desperate hurry to get to Broadway Dance Center in time for her class to start.

She hadn’t really given her personal dreams much thought since beginning at Galactica. But recently, when Adore was telling her all about a series of gig she’d gotten--ones Courtney couldn’t attend because they were all super late at night, mid-week, and all the way in Brooklyn--a rush of envy over Adore’s ability to focus on her music completely had overtaken her, immediately followed by guilt over such an ugly emotion.

Just because Adore had someone supporting her didn’t give Courtney any excuse to be jealous of her friend’s good fortune. Maybe things would be harder for her--that didn’t mean that she shouldn’t try. Instead of worrying about what she didn’t have, she decided to instead look to Adore’s achievements as inspiration.

She’d found an 8 pm class, figuring that it was late enough not to interfere with her work responsibilities. After all, taking an hour for herself one evening a week seemed like the kind of thing she should be able to do without a problem, right?

However, today had been even crazier than usual, with the holiday collection now being finalized, the Spring collection underway, and Fame working on a deal to expand Galactica’s flagship stores in Europe. Fame herself hadn’t even left until just before 7.

Courtney had finally managed to get away, currently sprinting the 15 blocks to BDC--she’d even had the foresight to bring sneakers. If she was fast enough, there was a chance she’d make it in time for her class.

With less than 2 blocks to go, Courtney realized that her work phone was buzzing in her hand. She paused at the corner, trying to manifest some positive energy before she answered. This will be something small. Something I already took care of. This call will end with Miss Fame pleased and happy...

“Hello?”

“Why are the Berlin contracts not in my bag?” Fame demanded.

“You...wanted to take those home?” Courtney asked, though she already knew the answer. Why would Fame be calling her otherwise? She cringed at her own carelessness, stupidly assuming that she’d review them the next day at her meeting with Patrick.

Fame seemed to be just as annoyed with Courtney as she was with herself, sighing and saying, “Deliver them now. This stress is not good for my skin,” and then hanging up even before Courtney’s “Yes, Miss.”

Courtney stood on the corner for a few moments, catching her breath, before turning around and trudging back towards the Galactica offices, shoulders slumped in defeat.

So much for dance class.

[smitti4thecity]

Imagine you are reading something and it ends like this?? Can a writer do this to people? Can a writer survive writing like this? And more importantly what is this?? Read along and hey follow along... time to take the brakes off of story telling and introduce the first of many in the "UNTITLED FOR NOW" series...

Untitled for now begins with three characters: Teapot, Treyein and then we have Jug. The opening scene features a cry for help from Teapot and a sad confession of guilt from Treyein... and we start to examine the characters beginning with Jug.

Teapot – Hey Jug? You busy

Jug – Never too busy for you

Teapot – Thank You for your kind words

Can you come over, I would rather talk to you about this face to face.

Jug – GPS says 25 minutes, see you about 2000hrs

Jug has no idea what he is about to walk into and that does not matter because in his world his friend of 22 years needs him and has prioritized her over all things.

Meanwhile Teapot was fuming.. IVE HAD ENOUGH, the jokes, the innaprorpiate touching has to stop, enough is enough and she must escalate things before she finds herself in Wednesday’s episode of SVU.

Text message from Treyein comes in, Teapot begins to read it..

Treyein – look tea, I have decided to check myself into a rehab facility, I recognize in myself that I have demons in my past I must let go of or I will never manifest into the beautiful person I am inside.  I hope this move inspires you to somehow take your leap towards greatness.  You have so much to offer the World and I truly will pray nightly that you live in your gift.

Teapot – My life will never be the same because of you – you have literally taken my (knock, knock, knock) throws phone on the bed.

Teapot – opens door and greets Jug with a hug

Jug – well hello, nice to see you too, you look nice, nails done I see you tea... pot!! knowing damn well I love the white tip nails..… wait!!! what is this??? some sort of setup???. Are you about to tell me we are dating? What did I walk into.. you sittin around lookin all good..... smellin like YSL and lookin even better than you smell.  Look, three letters woman!!! I DO

Teapot – laughing and smiling, no no no no no, we are not dating

Jug – sigh of relief and disappointment, don’t act like if I didn’t really try and holla you wouldn’t oblige

Teapot – shrugs, grabs Jugs hand… more serious now – come in, lets talk things right now for me are….. tear drop

Jug – hugs her closely, sweetheart what is wrong? What is going on? Jug silences his phone, takes off his shoes and hurry’s back to teapot.. grabs her face – look at me? I’m in the moment completely with you – talk to me.

Teapot – I need some time, just be here with me, tell me how you are doing? I will tell you I just need some time to gather myself…

Jug – Well look it doesn’t really matter how I am doing.. Please, you cannot hold this inside of you it is going to drive you down a dark road

Teapot – I know I know I know… just please you go first.

Jug for the first time in his life was asked how he was doing? Jugs mind instantly drifted to where it all started for Jug...

It was hot outside and Jug had to walk home from two a days football practice – now Jug lived below the hill and practice was above the hill so Jug started his journey towards the bottom. His feet draggin.. head down.. he all dirty with the long day face going on…sweaty.. smellin like last weeks practice…whoooo Jug was hurtin that day..… not even halfway into the walk a voice yells out of one of the homes:

Voice: Hey N WORD!!!! Get outta my neighborhood..

Naw I’m just playin, the Voice didnt say that..

Not even halfway into the walk a voice can be heard saying..

Voice: Whats up g? And there she was.. Teapot!!

Teapot goes outside with her wifle ball bat and says you hungry I got some pringles inside.

Jug: with all the life brought back into his body from that statement, Yes I am.

Jug went inside and banged some pepperoni pizza pringles and enjoyed some good conversation.  That day 22 years ago jumpstarted an unbelievable friendship that stands stronger each day that passes.  Jug was introduced to an entire different world on that day he had never seen a two parent home, food in the pantry and refrigerator, candles smelling all good, a garage, Jugs life changed that day.  Jug would have to eventually walk down that hill and go to his home but Jug was completely in that moment wit tea and Jug was and has proven to be forever grateful for the value meeting teapot has brought to his life.  Jug provided entertainment and Jug is good at it, you know the sober guy that’s loving life, the only one on the dancefloor, singing and talking the loudest like hey look at me.  That is Jug, the go to guy for anything you trying to do good or bad because Jug has lived.  Jug travels the country for fun, he has made a living by traveling to countries and providing some of the most epic memories in travel history.  You look at Jug and just automatically get inspired ladies love him, businesses respect his word and opinions. Jug has the President’s personal number and thats him -- the only person that can make the impossible possible – it is so important to have those people in your life that can connect with every age group and just find a common ground between different parties.  You just have to see this man to believe this man.

Growing up Jug went to the community academy that required Jug to spend 7 days at the academy and he would go home for a total of 16 hours and after the 16 hours Jug would head back to the academy to finish out his next 7 days he did this for 6 years in lieu of elementary school.  Well in year three at the academy Jug was minding his own business and Jug went home for his 16 hour leave period and Jugs mom pops Jug in the back of the head like “wtf” Jug?

Jug: Momma what

Jugs Momma: Boy you been cutting your hair?

Jug: no momma

This continues for two continuous weeks and Jug is completely clueless because when Jug looks in the mirror all he sees is a billion dollar smile that he would sell his self short on if he grins... the dreamy eyes authors make up words to describe.  ��Let’s call it hazel”

Jug was winning, fresh lineup, clothes was bummy but hey they all wore the same uniform, so LG.. F is the problem.

Jug strolls into his momma house on  summer leave that next week, and Jug momma put the paws on Jug.  You know the whoopen where you gotta go find the belt and you gotta find the one momma talking about or you gonna get hit wit the wrong belt and told to go find the other one…

when yo momma say “go get the belt” vs. “go get MY belt” the difference and  the tone in those two statements are completely different and has two different sides of the type of ass that gets whipped.  

When you get “the belt” only a little bit of ass is getting tore up so you good… when momma says get “MY BELT” well that my friend is all the ass.

That’s one of them beat downs that go like...

Boy (pop) didn’t (pop) I (pop) tell (pop) you (pop) to (pop) stop (pop) cutting (pop) yo (pop) hair (pop)

Huh? (Pop)

Get done you got snot bubbles, had two socks on now one of them outside underneath the car the other in the freezer stuck to the ice tray like its been there for a week.. yeah that type of life

Well a couple days later Jug was in his room iceing his buns when he hears his mothers voice scream out for him under his breath you know what Jug is saying so insert something you’d be saying in lieu of my sentence.

Jug gets up and goes in the other room and his Momma looks at him as if he were a newborn with all the love and desire a mother does and says to Jug.  I scheduled you a doctors appointment I have been talking to some people and they say I should …. Jug interrupts his Mom…

Jug: who is they Mom because if you are about to say what I think you are about to say then I need to meet them immediately.

Jugs Momma: Well what do you think I am about to say

Jug: Well, with all due respect momma - - I think you about to say …. Takes a deep breath and

That …

That umm…

Jugs Momma: say it son, you can tell me

Jug: you sure?

Jugs momma: yes son, you can say whatever it is you are thinking

Jug: I was going to say that I think you are about to say that “they” told you to stop beating my @ and like I been tellin yo xxxx xxx I ain’t been cutting my fxxxx hair, shoot”

Jugs momma: yes son its called alopecia.. wait a second Boy who you talkin.. you know what. Go get the belt…

Jug: sighs and drops his dobber and starts that stroll to the belt room and just as he takes a step momma gone say

Jugs momma: you ain’t gotta go get the belt but you better watch yo mouth, don’t know who you think you in here talkin to like that.. done lost yo mind.. clearly.

Think you talkin to boy.. I…

See when momma told Jug “boy … I” Jug was always curious to know – You’ll what? But Jug is a smart person… Jug takes his Loss… later in life someone told Jug the same phrase .. “boy…I” and Jug being the curious character he is.. Jug said it.. you’ll what? And to Jugs surprise Jug got muffed in the face and Jug would go on to never be curious again about what boy I… means.. because if someone tells you “Boy….I”

That means they are going to muff you.. so take your L.. or say “Boy..I” back to them and get ready for a muffing contest because boy I means nothing more than Boy I will muff you..in the face..

Jugs Momma: Yes son, in grown peoples words that is what I’m saying to you, and "they" is just people that gossip.

Jug: I don’t know momma, I don’t like gossip

Jugs Momma: not like that gossip, boy, shut up, you going to the doctor so go get ready.

School years begins Jug is bald, and Jug gets clowned every single day and Jug laughed along, soaked in the attention and listened to what the kids were saying.  Laughed louder than the other kids, complementing the very kids that were talking so bad about him and Jug had no choice because Jug couldn’t fight and Jug was lost, confused.  Jug knew why they were talking about him but didn’t know how to make it stop so Jug took L’s day in and day out until one day… The King of all Joke makers connected with Jug on a “I’m too great of a jokster to waste time talkin bout yo globe head self” type level...and that Jokster looked at Jug and Jug looked back and it was like the torch was passed to Jug.. and in that moment Jugs mouth opened and said one of the most legendary bars in the history of joke telling.

Jug: If you don’t get yo old…..

.. now “if you don’t get yo old” is the perfect setup however it is tricky to pull off but if you pull it off you are elevated to a different tier of joke telling…and Jug did it...

Jug was invicible from that day forward.. everyone loved Jug and Jug loved everyone.. For years the very kids that talked reckless to Jug was in the laugh of a joke (blink of an eye -- get it?? Laugh of a joke?? No?) Jugs biggest support system.  

Jug transformed that day into a legend, and in that moment Jug knew it was his life’s gift to spread love joy and happiness all over the world and that led to him winning a unanimous decision presidential election.. Yeah..He was not even on the ticket, everyone in the country wrote his name on the ballot..the most unqualified candidate in the history of life ...thats a whole nother story....

Jug has just been asked the most important question in his life, no one has ever asked Jug how he is doing? Jug has made a living by connecting with people and for the very first time in his life Jug must complete one of the most important steps in overcoming and that is answering one very important question.

Teapot – Jug, you okay you kinda went to another place for like 14 minutes, I have literally been calling your name… it was like you were not even here at all – I mean one of the first things that you said to me was that you are in the moment with me… I know that look Jug, I’ve never seen it on you… but Jug!! I know that look.. what is it..???

Jug – tears begin to form

Teapot – NO!! NO!! NO!! No Jug, you do not get to cry your way out of this one… Now open your mouth .. use your words and you get in this moment with me… and you tell me what is going on…

Jug – wipes them tears away that almost dropped, drops his head and unleashes this:

Interested in more? Tweak or Delete?