#Bryan definitely did something to deserve the floor...

[machabre]

and this is the machine he's sharing the bed with, cyborg gets the floor

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

And he said, I hope you know how to swim

A/N: this is for the gift exchange from @itfandomprompts! My giftee is @iheartthoreau who asked for shy skinny dipping lovers and jealous Eddie. I’m sorry it’s out so late, I hope you enjoy it anyway! 

Summary:  The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s bare foot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent. 

warnings: skinny dipping, mentioned of nudity (but nothing graphic)

read on a3o

The atmosphere of six best friends who’ve just moved past the worst stages in their life cackles in Eddie’s brain.

He’s buzzed up, energized beyond all logic by the laughter and loving gestures so carelessly tossed around in their group. Pennywise is dead, and with it the looming threat following each of them around and the teasing unhappiness hinting at what they were missing but not giving any clues as to what.

It’s all over now, and a road full of new opportunities lays ahead of them. Everyone is acting loose, ecstatic with the weight that fell off their shoulders. Eddie’s feeling a tad guilty too, for calling Myra and informing her that way about their upcoming divorce that he’s going to set in motion as soon as he’s had a good night sleep, but he felt so brave after surviving a literal killer clown, that he wanted to get it over with as soon as possible.

A part of him was also frightful that he’d lose his courage, between now and getting home, that he’d look around his house and accept that this was all he was destined for, a mediocre life with a wife he didn’t love and a job that sucked the joy out of all employees. Myra deserved better though, and that’s why Eddie’s guilty eyeing his phone, debating on calling her back. He won’t take back what he said, because he’s relieved to have put it out in the open, but he’s unsure if he should have been more empathetic towards her feelings in all of this. If he should have ended the call after telling her to take care.

Bev notices his wandering eyes from where she seated beside him on the couch, the woman still laughing a stitch, shifting forward and hiding his phone in between seat cushions. Out of sight out of mind so to speak.

‘We’ve got time to worry about it tomorrow Eddie.’ She says, and she’s right. Tomorrow both him and Bev will have to deal with the intricacies of divorce and separating a company and a home. Tonight is reserved for the losers only.

‘Yeah Eds, and here I was assuming that after twenty years we’d have some stuff to catch up on.’

Richie regards him from the floor, legs tossed up upon the couch with his body upside down. His glasses are sliding off, but he’s lazy to fix them, so he looks like even more of a goofball than normal. If Eddie could, if he didn’t feel like his intentions would be even more noticeable if he did, he’d scoot over to Richie, adjusting his glasses and letting his fingers trail his cheek and bask in the skin to skin contact.

‘You never did anything interesting before we went to college, what makes you think you’ve done something interesting after?’ Eddie’s tongue is sharp, a façade he builds to stop speculation about his feelings towards Richie, though the truth is that he is intrigued and he craves to know every small detail about his life outside of Derry.

‘No you guys are not starting this again. I’m sick of your bickering,’ Bill interjects, rolling his eyes at the pair.

‘I reject that big Bill, we’re hilarious, you can’t be sick of us bickering when you haven’t had the pleasure of hearing it for the last twenty years. Michael, back me up here buddy.’

‘Sorry Rich, I’m not getting involved in the slightest.’

‘Yeah guys come on, can’t we have one quiet night in?’

‘What so Eddie can just call me boring and I’m supposed to let it slide? Me? I’m the fireworks on the Fourth of July, the highest roller coaster in the park and the whipped cream on strawberries, but I am not boring.’ Richie changes positions, almost accidentally knocking over his beer bottle. He theatrically waves his arms back and forth, trying to animate his words and add conviction.

‘Okay, okay you’re not boring, but don’t overrate yourself either. The most adventurous thing you ever did in high school was skip a class to read a comic book in the school’s bathroom. Not exactly daredevil behavior.’

Bev sips from her whiskey, winking at Richie whose face turns beet red for a reason Eddie can’t decipher. It’s not until Bev conspicuously blows out a gust of air with her lips puckered that Eddie connects the dots.

‘Didn’t you say you ditched because you were smoking with Beverly? Dude did you fucking lie about that? I was worried you’d die and get cancer ever since that day you piece of shit.’

‘No I definitely did smoke. I swear.’

‘You’re not kidding anyone Rich, I vouched for you all those years ago, but I’m not doing it again. Little Richie was a comic book nerd who just pretended to be really cool. We never ever smoked together.’

The losers all holler, clapping their hands together and cheering on the exposure of their foulmouthed friend, debunking all the story Richie apparently made up where he and Be had to sneak out at night to smoke inconspicuously, with the exception of Eddie and Richie. Eddie, because he’s busy glaring at Richie and Richie because he’s busy tapping Bill’s hand away, teasingly disheveling his hair.

Eddie wishes he was brave enough to give these little affections to his friend, especially after witnessing how soothed Richie got when Eddie hugged him after Neibolt, when he had dropped his face into the nape of Eddie’s neck and stayed there, swaying on his feet of exhaustion. It would only make him a good friend, a best friend, but Eddie is still so damn afraid.

He might have had the power to separate from his wife and kill an abstract form of his deepest fears, but Bowers angry yelled words, such as fairy and faggot, swung to his head any time he and Richie graveted closer while walking, haunt him even now.

Touching is off limits the words tell him, so he shows affection the only way he’s ever known towards Richie, by bickering and pulling pigtails.

‘I should have expected that.’ Eddie nods vehemently, laughing as Richie’s mouth drops open in a shocked manner.

‘Are you kidding me? Eddie Spaghetti is the one telling me I’m a loser?’

Eddie flips him off, ignoring Mike’s whispered; ‘he’s got a point’, in favor of levitating his full attention on Richie. The giggling in the room elevates an octave higher.

‘You all laugh’, Richie addresses the entire group, ‘but was I not the one who came up with the idea for the list?’

Abruptly, all sounds snap off, as everyone is snapped back to the past. Even Richie is, at face value, confused about the word he spoke, until the concept and creation of the list is brought to the forefront of everyone’s mind.

‘Holy shit.’

‘Oh my god Mike please tell me you still have it.’

Mike shakes his head with a far-off look. ‘Sorry guys, I don’t know who had it last but I never found it again.’ He’s saddened by it, like he did them all an injustice by not holding on to a flimsy piece of paper.

The List, capital L, was nothing more but a checklist, composed with all the fun and dangerous things the losers all had hopes of doing after graduating high school. Eddie remembers now, the hushed laughter and uncompromisable joy that came with the simple idea of these things, how everyone pitched in and added dare after dare while him and Stan exchanged glances and hoped to god that some things would never be executed.

‘That’s okay Mike, I’m just happy we can all remember making it.’ Ben smiles reassuringly Mike’s way, who smiles back and takes a deep breath.

‘Wait, I think I can recall some of the things we wrote on there. Hold on’, Bev squeezes her eyes shut and snaps her finger in the hope it will get to her faster. ‘Oh’, she exclaims, startling Bill who chokes on his own saliva, ‘we were going to visit Europe, do a high rope parkour, rock climb and some other things I can’t remember right now.’

‘Didn’t we also agree to volunteer in a hospital and go camping in the national forest?’ Ben asks, awaiting confirmation.

‘Yeah we did, Stan was throwing a fit over going camping because of the environment and the dirt, but we were well on our way to convince him.’

‘Wow,’ Richie breathes, chest puffing up and head dropping back into the couch so his face isn’t visible to the rest. ‘I forgot all about that, but come to think of it, I’m pretty sure I did most of those things with Bryan.’

And who the fuck is Bryan? Certainly not Eddie, sweating in fear from the things that were being listed, searching for the most extreme dares he’d seen happen on tv to suggest, doing anything he could to impress Richie. Eddie was terrified of most of the activities on the list, like Bev’s idea to waterski in the ocean, or Mike’s zip lining idea, but he would have done them if it meant he could bask in Richie’s attention, impress Richie to rid himself of scared baby Eddie was so sure he must have been in Richie’s eyes. So who the hell was this Bryan stealing his thunder like that?

‘Who’s Bryan?’ Bev inquires with a smirk, winking at Richie blush ridden face. Eddie’s jealousy rears its ugly head, flaring up and making his head woozy. He simultaneously both considers choking Bev and thanking her for the question.

With Richie’s secret fresh on his mind, the way he’d so shamefully admitted that he was gay and they were the first people he’d ever found the courage to tell, Eddie wondered if Bryan was perhaps someone Richie had been romantically involved with.

Richie would have deserved it, Eddie argues in his mind, to at least for a short period of time have someone love him back as fiercely as he dons it out, but Eddie’s also furious that he stole Richie out from under his nose.

Which is illogical, because even if he and Richie had managed to stay in touch, and Eddie confessed – not much chance there, as Eddie didn’t even tell anyone he was gay when Richie did - there was no guaranty that Richie would’ve reciprocated.

‘No one snoopy’, Richie argues with a jittery leg, ’just some guy I hung out with for a while.’

Bev appears unconvinced, but she’s also respectful towards Richie's decision to not say anything. ‘So which ones did you complete?’

‘I went to Europa senior year of college, smoked a bunch of weed, went zip lining. The normal kind of stuff.’

Zip-lining, or smoking weed for that matter, causes Eddie skin to crawl, not that he’d ever admit it. He hates that that’s not the case for Bryan.

‘Well thanks Rich, none of us ever did anything on the list without the other losers. I guess you didn’t miss us too much.’ It’s not fair, of course it’s not. He can tell by the eagerness to spend time together that Richie was very lonely, and experienced the same aching emptiness where his friends were supposed to be as the rest of them.

The bitter tone of Eddie's speech, and the way Richie’s eyes turn a little dimmer extinguishes the fire of Eddie’s envy. Richie deserves better than him in every way. An apology lies at the tip of his tongue, ready to jump into the open and hopefully aid the wounds before they’re fully developed.

Sensing the impending hurricane of trouble on the horizon Mike is eager to intervene, playing mediator for two forces that are about to collide. ‘Well I mean, we probably wouldn’t have gone through with most of them anyway.’

‘Speak for yourself’, Eddie waves him off, spiteful that Mike has a good point. He would have found a way to undermine their plans and make it so that he could back out without appearing like a meek lamb, for at least half of the activities. If he had known about Bryan’s existence though, he would have done anything. He feels ready now to do anything, to one up him and establish his spot as Richie’s number one.

‘Prove it,’ Bill dares with a lopsided smirk, certain he’s got Eddie beat. He sustains eye contact, reaching for the bag of chips on the table and gnawing on it with the most smug aura Eddie has ever witnessed him having.

‘I would’, Eddie defends fiercely, ‘but we can’t do any of the things in Derry.’

‘Sounds like a cop out to me.’

‘Yeah, sure Big Bill, because you can easily find a zip line here in Derry. The town that refused to spend money on renewing the library back in the eighties is no doubt going to have that installed by now.’

‘What about skinny dipping?’ Ben proposes innocently, having no idea the kind of strain he’s putting Eddie under.

‘That’s a great idea Ben, I forgot we put that one on the list.’ Beverly acknowledges despite Eddie’s frantic head shaking. The room temperature drops down and rises back up steadily, at least according to Eddie. He’s starting to sweat, something he never does and takes pride in – in the office he’s the level headed one, and that’s saying something – and he pulls at his collar to allow some air to ventilate.  

Everything except that. A swim in a dirty lake that was most likely infected was a whole plate of different bacteria, and being naked in front of the man he’s in love with is not something Eddie is particularly fond of. He almost asks for a different thing to do, but that would truly be a cop out, and he both refuses to back down in front of Richie and give Bill the satisfaction of being right.

‘Good luck with that Eds, question before this all goes down, am I allowed to use this in my next bit?’

‘Actually,’ Bev interrupts, ‘I think you should join him too.’

‘Hey I wasn’t the one that said I’d be willing to do anything.’

‘No, but you were the one who added it on the list in the first place. C’mon Richie, It’ll be fun. For us, not for you guys, but we’ll get a good laugh out of it.’

Richie is hesitant, same as Eddie, readjusting his glasses again. Eddie is sure that if he says the word Richie will tell everyone to back down for him. He wouldn’t even make fun of Eddie for it, should Eddie give any indication that he wouldn’t want him too. He thinks back to Bryan, and how he wouldn’t have backed down for such a thing, and how in awe Richie must have been seeing the man abandon all safety precaution and go for it, Eddie’s mind is made up instantly.

‘Let’s do it.’ He says without leaving room for argument, nodding at Richie as he looks to him. He hopes Richie will go with it, but is also confident that of course he will. As kids they followed each other everywhere, and surely that hasn’t changed.

‘Really? I mean yeah – sure I guess. Bring it on.’

-----

The Derry midnight breeze is freezing, Eddie notes, still dressed in a shirt and pants and dreading having to get rid of them. He’s barefoot now, standing on top of the quarry and peering down into the glinting lake. Eddie’s jumping from one foot to the other, annoyed that dirt is clinging to his skin and branches are piercing his soles, even more aggravated at the idea of cleaning them in infection filled lake water. Bev better keep her end of the promise, and be waiting near the end of the lake with a pair of fresh pressed towels.

Next to him, also bare foot, Richie looks over his shoulder, and laughs, bright and innocent.

‘I forgot how high this was.’

It is high up, but they’ve done this jump at least a hundred times before, so Eddie’s not worried about the plunge. He’d assume Richie isn’t either, but the man keeps glances towards the path they took to get up here, uncharacteristically silent.

‘It’s okay if you're too scared to go through with it Eduardo, I won’t tell the others.’ Richie smirks when he notices Eddie’s glance, crossing his arms over his chest.

The movement makes his shoulders bulk, highlighting just how much bigger Richie is compared to Eddie. Eddie’s mouth waters, and he starts to worry about how he’s going to have to get through seeing Richie’s naked shoulders in the flesh.

‘Just get undressed will you? Hurry up.’

‘Why? Eager to see my bare ass?’

‘Yeah, because who doesn’t think jumping naked into a lake they frequented as kids is the epitome of sexiness? No you self-centered idiot, I want to get it over with so I can go back to the Inn and grab a warm shower.’

With one last peek, Eddie moves backwards, standing away from the ledge and begins to unbutton his shirt, before thinking better off it. Richie picks up on his hesitation, shifting backwards too and motioning his head towards the ridge.

‘Do you want me to show you how it’s done?’

‘No,’ Eddie objects, ‘I’ll go first.’

‘Why? I’m not going to stare at your junk while you're jumping in if that’s what you're worried about Eddie. I’m not that kind of gay.’ Rarely does Richie toss aside an opportunity to grant Eddie another humorous nickname, so the use of his real name spooks Eddie just enough that he opens his mouth to apologize without even realizing what he’s apologizing for.

Richie’s facial expression, set in a grimace and squinting his eyes defensively, are a dead give away that Eddie’s words are being taken the wrong way. If only Richie knew that Eddie wanted him to go in first so he could avoid the same temptation Richie thought he was forcing on him.

‘Richie no, that’s not what I meant I-.’ Heartfelt compliments are not something Eddie has had a lot of practice for these last few years, and he’s not doing a good job catching up on them either. Therefore he sighs and hopes that he can find another way to prove to Richie he’d never accuse him of something like that. ‘Whatever, just go first already.’

‘Fine but turn around okay?’

Eddie listens to him, back towards Richie and the jump off, though he doesn’t really understand the request. With Richie comes a lot of flair, and he was more or less been prepared for a joke about how Eddie got to confirm how big his dick is in reality.

He waits and listens carefully for the sounds of clothes being dropped on the ground, and he can’t stop his mind from secretly imagining how Richie looks like without them once he distinguishes it.  Eddie shakes his head, scolding his own mind.

The next few moments are filled with raspy breaths originating from Richie, footstep sounding further away and then closer again in an erratic pattern. He must be scared of the jump. Under normal circumstances, Eddie would ask to jump in at the same time, but since Richie asked Eddie not to turn around, he won’t.

‘If you don’t jump in the next five minutes,’ Eddie teases, the way Richie used to tease him, ‘I’ll push you in.’ A second later Eddie hears Richie’s loud whooping as he plunges down into the dark water.

Eddie spins, the only thing greeting him the dark with very little light clearing up his path, from the moon. He’s having a hard time to even see where the cliff ends, and he can’t disguise Richie in the water at all.

‘I’m coming in’, he yells to the void, in case Richie can’t discern his body in time and needs to move out of the way. He takes off his clothes, goosebumps erupting on his skin, and folds his pants and t-shirt up neatly, touching the ground with his hands to find a dry spot to lay them on. The air is cold, and so Eddie refuses to linger on top any longer than he has to.

He jogs up to the ledge and darts off before his mind can conjure up the thousands of things that can go wrong from swimming in the dark this late at night. His body flies through the air and connects with the water in one swoop, a pit of glee bursting in Eddie’s stomach. Jumping from the quarry equals freedom, a hot summer day and love for all of his friends, but in particular Richie.

Eddie keeps his head underwater until his lungs burn, eyes closed and allowing himself to just feel all the sensations. Then, something tickles the back of his leg, and the peaceful moment is over. He kicks back the surface, away from the spot where he could swear something touched him, and searches around for Richie.

Richie, with his wet black hair clinging to his forehead, strands of it sticking out in every direction, and his droplet covered glasses, roving more of Eddie’s heart each minute they’re near each other. He’s never looked more beautiful, and Eddie has never had to fight the urge to kiss him as much as he does now.

‘See, I told you I wouldn’t stare Eds, I can’t even see anything with all these splatters on my glasses.’

The moon reflects on the water, so that it’s impenetrable, and neither Rich nor Eddie can look down and see their lower body parts.

What Eddie can see is enough anyway, Richie’s shoulders and part of his chest hold Eddie’s attention, and he forgets to respond to Richie’s comment.

His eyes land on a dark bruise, just on the bottom of Richie’s neck, a remnant of their fight with Pennywise earlier that day. Without thinking, without standing still on the consequences of such an action, Eddie swims closer, stretches his arm out, and lingers his fingertips over the bruise. He carefully positions his body to not touch any other body part of Richie’s except for his fingers on his neck.

He makes an inquisitive noise, thumb stroking over the injury in what he hopes to be a calming matter. He physically can’t pull away, entranced with the way he moves and responds to him, trying but failing to get his fill of Richie clenched.

‘Eddie’, Richie whispers, scared to break the silence and the intimate moment. ‘It’ll be fine. And hey, at least he didn’t do anything to my dick.’

‘Yeah, would have been a shame if it were to become even smaller.’

Richie snorts, retaliating the jest with a wave of dirty water aimed at Eddie.

Eddie gasps, spitting out a bit of water that managed to sneak into his mouth. ‘Oh you’re on.’

The two of them chase each other, and if it weren’t for the fact that they were both naked, Eddie would have thrown his entire body weight in the game to push Richie underwater. As it stands, they just splash back and forth until they’re exhausted and the remnants of their laughter dies out, barely enough energy left to stay afloat side by side.

‘Did you have this much fun with Bryan?’ Eddie asks, a bit envious. He hates how he’s still stuck on the Bryan thing, hates that his mind keeps popping images of them doing the exact same thing only to end it with a kiss.

‘What?’

‘With Bryan, the guy you did all that other stuff with?’

‘Oh no, me and Bryan – we were never together like that.’ Back at the hotel room, Eddie figured that that was a ploy to distract Bev, something Richie just said because he couldn’t comfortably admit the real intent of their relationship. But he’s never lied to Eddie, and his eyes, magnified by his glasses, seem so sincere, Eddie has no other option but to believe him. ‘I-I’m- some other guy already has that place all taken up.’

Eddie stupid, oblivious and dense and everything in between. He knows Richie isn’t talking about him, he knows he could never be the guy Richie would hold all hope out for – he also secretly hopes it’s none of the losers -, but he wants to be so bad. Just one time, just one kiss and he’d be sated enough to let go of his feral behavior towards any potential love interest Richie might have. Just one time.

‘Richie’, Eddie starts, biting his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood. He’s taking a huge risk, by foreseeing a rejection but hoping that Richie won’t drop him as a friend because of this. If Eddie doesn’t do this, he’ll never stop wondering what it feels for their lips to meet. He’ll never get over Richie because he never got to experience any with him.

‘Can I kiss you?’ He risks releasing his lip.

Richie is visibly shocked. ‘What? What the fuck? Eddie is this a joke?’

The joke is, as usual, all on Eddie who regrets ever opening his mouth in the first place. He could try to laugh it off, say that it was a joke, but that would mean that he pretends to make a jest out of something Richie has struggled with for his entire life. He’s stuck between a rock and a hard place. Left with no other options but to further dig his own grave, Eddie decides to be honest. At least that means he gets to keep part of his integrity.

‘No Richie of course not, I wouldn’t do that to you. I’m sorry. Look I like you but it’s obviously one sided and I just wanted to know what it felt like to kiss you but it was a stupid request and I shouldn’t have asked you that. Oh god, I never even asked if you were dating someone –‘

‘Eds?’

‘- Fuck can we please forget I said anything so we can still hang out?’

‘Eddie?’

‘What?’

‘Yes. Please kiss me.’

Eddie gapes with his mouth open, struggling for breath and for words. He’s half convinced he misinterpreted  the words, but his tilted head proves otherwise. Eddie doesn’t question it further, counting his lucky start for once, and leaning in to his emotions and Richie, breaching the water to get to him.

Their kiss is surprisingly gentle for the ungovernable lead up prior to it. Richie’s lips taste like lake water, but deeper underneath lies a tang of something distinctively Richie. Eddie can’t wait to devour him whole once he’s cleaned up. Their lips move together in tandem, a perfect harmony that for once neither are willing to break.

They pull back, Richie’s arms circling Eddie’s waist, and he smiles. His smile mixed with the love stricken gleam in his eyes, mysteriously tells Eddie that Richie feels the exact same way he does. His chest caves with happiness.  

‘I like you too, if it wasn’t obvious. A lot more than Bryan.’

‘For the love of God can we never mention that again? It’s embarrassing. No, Hush’, Eddie says urgently, covering Richie’s mouth with his palm when he opens his mouth to conjure up another joke.

‘Fine,’ Richie says while pulling away from Eddie’s hand. ‘How about we talk about something else then? How the fuck are we supposed to get to our clothes?’

[puckngrind]

What’s In A Name:8 - J. Toews

Chapter 8

Where we left off: Bekah accompanied Jon to the NHL100 Gala and he suggested they could live in Chicago together.

Warnings: smut, language

Word Count: 3,396

Series Masterlist ) Puck ‘n Grind’s masterlist

Untitled.

His season ended in round 1 and anyone could see the disappointment all over Jon’s face for the first few weeks after being knocked out in four games. Bekah came to game 1 and wore the jacket he bought her with his name and number on the back. The conversation from LA still hung over their heads but was not discussed by either with the end of the season. Work was crazy for her and summer flew without seeing Jon much. She did take a Friday off in August to take the long weekend go see him at home in Canada. She could see why he spoke about home the way he did. It was peaceful even with the sounds of slap shots waking her up one morning. She toed out to the kitchen to see coffee already made and prepared to her liking of a splash of honey and cream. She hummed while taking the first sip realizing it was exactly how she made it. The large window in the back eliminated source of the sounds echoing through the house. Jon was working out on his mini rink in the backyard. She opened the door with nothing on but one of his old, warn UND shirts on.

“You are crazy Tae!” Bekah emerged with coffee in hand leaning on the railing of his deck. Jon laughs and starts to make his way to her.

“Determined is usually the adjective used Beks.” His sweaty lips dip down and brush against hers. “Determined. Also, good morning.”

He was very determined to get her to Chicago. He knew she loved the city but the conversation in LA was looming over every discussion of a weekend with him. It took a ton of effort for Brynn convincing Bekah to go for the Blue Jackets and Blackhawks game in October. She helped Bekah wiggle some of work accounts during a few lunches and wouldn’t stop talking about it until they booked their flight. Bekah was working so hard that she resisted at first but Jon was thankful for Brynn’s persistence got her to his city.

Brynn rolled her eyes when Bekah walks in from the parking garage in her playoff jacket within Toews airbrushed across the back and a I heart Chicago T-shirt under. “I’m happy for you friend but you are an Ohioan damnit!” Brynn laughs and links arms with Behkah so they can head to the arena.

Jon scored and had an assistant handing the Blue Jackets a lose. Brynn laughs as the two friends embrace near the locker rooms and head their separate ways. “Have fun you two.” She waves more at Jon than Bekah.

“Nice game Tae.” Bekah looks up at Jon as he takes her under his arm.

“I felt your energy, Baby.” He kisses her lips. “Let’s head home.” The words lingered but weren’t touched by either one.

Bekah loved the way Jon smelled post game. It was intoxicating especially as he pressed into her making her legs push hard into his ass while she moaned out his name loudly.

“Come on Beks.” Jon encourages feeling Bekah’s orgasm coming. His not far behind. Bekah’s back arches up and he works faster. Reveling in the way their bodies moved in sync.

“Jon, I...” She moans out while her toes curl tightly into his legs.

“Merde Beks! Je t'aime.” Jon grunts out as he climaxes and collapses into Bekah’s trembling body.

“Uh, what did you just say?” Bekah tries to catch her breath. “Tae?” Jon whinces realizing the gravity of his words. “Jon.” Bekah tries to move him but he just lays with his head in her neck attempting to catch his own breath. “Jonathan! What the hell did you just say?”

“It was French Beks.” He finally moves so she can see his face.

“You orgasmed in French? You’ve never... have you ever... wait. What did you say?” Bekah questioned.

Jon’s mind and heart are racing. Of course he loved her. But saying it in French while cuming wasn’t exactly the way he wanted to tell her for the first time especially when they hadn’t established anything beyond exclusivity. “Babe, I don’t know.” He rubs the back of his neck.

“I swear I heard t’aime. Isn’t that love?” Bekah feels the heat coming to her cheeks. Her hand swiping at sweat on Jon’s hairline.

“Beks. Maybe. I don’t tend to remember what we say in the moment. Plus my brain is hardwired for both languages. Remember, I learned French first.” Jon searches her eyes and sees a smile appear.

“Well that was new. I didn’t hate it but it was new.” She kissed his lip tenderly. “Does it mean something when you brain switches like that?”

“I don’t think so mainly comfort I guess but we’ve been pretty comfortable for awhile. Seriously Beks. I don’t think I’ve ever done it before, ever.”

“Interesting.” Bekah struggled her shoulder out of not understanding before kissing his lips and Jon was thankful for the dropped conversion.

Work picked up for Bekah again. Her firm was given the task of the Cannonball for the CBJ foundation. As the marketing department she was stressed. She took a few days at Christmas and spent them in Chicago. His family didn’t join this year because of the schedule but he was thankful to see her in the mist of maybe her biggest project yet. All-Star break came and went. Jon didn’t make the All-star team so he came to Columbus and spent time with her but mainly in bed then she was off to work. Brynn didn’t mind when he suggested lunch out and invited her knowing they had a standing lunch date.

The week of Cannonball Brynn walks in with flowers. “These were delivered for you.” Bekah could hardly see her tiny best friend over the ginormous bouquet. Bekah’s eyes bug out of her head when her eyes adjust to them. She has only received flowers once at her office and it was when her grandfather died and they were from Brynn and Derek not her boyfriend. Jon sent her flowers for her birthday but to her apartment and not to work.

“Holy shit Rin!” Bekah gets up to grab the flowers and places them on the ledge behind her desk.

“There is a card.” Brynn points towards the center of the roses. “I didn’t read it. Still sealed.” Brynn’s face lights up as Bekah fishes out the note and opens it.

To the purrdiest lady at the ball,

You have worked so hard and I’m so proud of you.

Always, Tae

Bekah’s heart skips a beat and her face has a smitten smile across it.

“Does he always end his notes that way?” Rin questions.

“What? Huh?” Bekah rereads the card and looks at her best friend puzzled.

“Always, Tae. Does he always sign things like that?” Bekah just nods gliding her fingers over the text. “Very similar to that tattoo you have isn’t it.” Brynn flicks her finger to Bekah’s left side where the Always yours tattoo was.

“He’s done it before seeing the tattoo.” Bekah’s brain remembering the note she kept in her wallet from when he gave her his jersey. Butterflies erupt in her stomach thinking about the similarities.

“Yeah, just adding to the list of your no name thing there Bekah.” Brynn breaks the silence caused by Bekah’s realization. “Those flowers are stunning! I’m gonna let you call that handsome man.” Brynn waves from the door and Bekah turns to inhale the arrangement of red and white roses.

She picks up her phone and calls Jon.

“You didn’t have to but they are beautiful. Thanks Babe.” Bekah hardly let’s him say hello.

“Oh, well deserved. You worked your ass off for this western rodeo campaign and I just wish I could be there to push you across that dance floor, Beks.” There was a silence that they both let happen.

“I miss you.” Bekah finally whispers.

“I miss you too Beks but I gotta go. I’ll talk to you later.”

Cannonball got Bekah all nervous. She ended up wearing the same dress that she did for the NHL 100 gala with some major convincing from Brynn. “You worked hard, that dress is amazing why not wear it and we can enjoy ourselves.” It definitely didn’t go with the theme and Bekah considered if it was too much for an event she was technically at for work. The fundraiser was perfect. Being country themed the players showed up in hats and bolo ties. About half way through Bekah felt the weight of the project lift off her shoulders as she started to mingle among some of women from the Chicago trip and the team. Her comfort level in the hockey world had dramatically changed and even Seth Jones noticed it when they were talking. He had run into her and Jon at the All-Star game in 2017 that became the focal point of the conversation. Bekah crawled into bed way later than she expected and didn’t wake up until her phone was ringing before her alarm.

“Hey Tae!” Bekah knew it was only Jon calling that early.

“Why the fuck do I see Josh fucking Anderson’s arm around you on Twitter?” Jon chokes out through his teeth.

“Huh?” Bekah sat up and rubbed her eyes.

“I was looking through the tag from your event and scrolled to see a picture of that cocky new call up Jacket with his fucking arm around you. Bekah... I... I....”

“You need to breathe Jon. No one had their arm around me especially Josh.” Bekah grabs her tablet from the nightstand to find this picture. The mention of Josh’s name made Jon almost growl.

“Well it sure as hell looks like he’s all cozy with you.” Bekah can tell Jon is pacing the floor. She hears the hard thud of his feet even over the phone.

“Jon! We. You and me, we are exclusive. I’m not seeing or talking or flirting with any other man.” Bekah scrolls as Jon breathes heavily into the phone. She finally sees it. From the angle of the photograph it does looks like Josh’s arm is on the small of her back and not whatever he was propping himself on. A small smirk on Josh’s face as she is talking to Seth. “Jon, Honey, I’m looking at the picture right now and I was just talking to the boys. Seth was asking about what part of the All-Star game I enjoyed since he saw us in LA. The conversation was about YOU,Tae.” Bekah waits and hears Jon swearing in both French and English. “Jonathan Bryan Toews calm the fuck down. You have a game tonight and you cannot be all like this.”

“Like fucking what Bekah? Pissed that my woman is looking like she’s talking to another man and one that is in my profession and one that I have to play soon. Pissed that we won’t call this what it fucking is because we live in different states or are scared or whatever it might be? My head hasn’t been in the right space and it’s hard to lead a damn team when I’m this way.” Jon stops pacing and can hardly hear over booming from his pulse in his ears.

“I... I don’t know what to say Jon.” Bekah feels the prick at the corner of her eyes.

“Well maybe you need to figure that out. I need to get to the rink and settle down. I’ll talk to you later Beks.” Jon hisses and hangs up. Bekah pulled her pillow over her head and starts to cry. She wasn’t even sure why she was crying but she just did it. Jon’s word echoing in her thoughts as she did.

The two texted a few times in the next few weeks and even Brynn could feel there was something off. “Bekah, he’s coming in town tomorrow night after their home game. You need to talk to him.”

“Rin, please don’t.” Bekah looks up from the salad she’s just pushing around with her fork.

“Call what you two have whatever you want but it’s something and in the last few weeks you’ve been a puddle of a human instead of the annoyingly hot for Toews bestie I’ve come accustomed to. You two make each other better you know?” Brynn stares into her best friend’s eyes seeing all the confusion that was stirring.

“But Rin.” Bekah whispers.

“Just go talk to him.” Byrnn spells out and Bekah knew she was right.

She texted Jon asking to meet in the lobby. He said he had a late team meeting but could slip out for a moment. Bekah’s heart beat faster and her cheeks flooded red when she sees him walking towards her.

“Hey Beks.” Jon leaned down and kissed her forehead.

“I’ve missed you.” Bekah blurts out.

“I’ve missed you too.” Jon stands close but not too close. “What’s up?”

“We haven’t seen or talked to each other in awhile.”

“Yeah, we’ve been busy.” Jon rubs the back of his neck looking down at her and she sees his pocket buzz.

“I... I... fuck... why is this hard?” Bekah whispers almost to herself as Jon’s pocket buzzes again.

“Beks, I don’t know but I really have to go. Tomorrow night, after the game I’ll meet you down in the tunnels like always okay?” He dips down and kisses her cheek before jogging off.

Bekah shook off the odd exchange and the next day wore her Toews jersey as she had been doing the last few seasons. Brynn’s eyes were bright when she got into Bekah’s car and saw the familiar jersey but said nothing. The ladies were closer than normal for this game and when Jon skated by during warmups she saw a slight smile across his face.

The game was not great and Bekah could swear she saw Jon push Josh after the whistle and words were exchanged but when Brynn said she didn’t see anything she wrote it off as paranoia. The Blue Jackets won and when Anderson scored in the third Bekah felt Jon’s eyes on her while the entire arena erupted in cheers. After the game, as always, Bekah waited for Jon between the home and visitor’s locker rooms. Bekah getting chirped by a few of the player who saw her in the Toews jersey and recognized her from Cannonball. Bekah sees Jon and starts toward him. His expression soft as he makes his way to her.

“Bek-caw!” A booming voice behind her calls out. She turns to see Josh with his hands to his mouth.  Seth, and Boone behind him in the tunnel. The boys all wave and she waves back then turns to see Jon standing in front of her. A grimace now flooding his face.

“Ready?” Jon pulls his arm tight around Bekah and she felt his whole body was tense.

“Yes, Tae. Let’s get outta here.” Bekah squeezed Jon and the two made their way to his hotel room. Once inside Jon drops on the bed kicking off his shoes but fully clothed in his suit. “I’m sorry Tae.” Bekah curls up into him and she can feel the tension radiating out of him. Jon finally groans and moves their bodies. Stripping Bekah’s clothes off first then his own in almost silence. Just the sounds of movement and kisses filled the air. He slinks down her body and presses his tongue into her core.

“Fuck Jon!” Bekah jumps and he presses his hand down at her hips to keep her body in place. He’s relentless and doesn’t let up after an orgasm rips through her body. His fingers curling into her as he sucks and flicks at her clit. Bekah yells out his name as the second orgasm crashes over her with even more of an intensity than the first. Jon only let’s up for a moment while he adjusts her legs and slams his throbbing cock into her. The room now filled with curses and moans. Jon biting at Bekah’s shoulder while she claws at his back. He thrusts hard into her then stops. Her eyes that are screwed shut fly open and the intensity of Jon’s eyes was a lot to take. Pupils blown, the look of want and a hint of something she couldn’t put her finger on before he rolled his hips out and slammed back into her. Bekah’s hands fly up to brace herself with the headboard. Jon’s hands move so he’s on his elbows with his lips ghosting her lips. “Mine.” He whispers then presses his lips on hers. Bekah feels Jon twitch deep inside of her which causes her body to climax again. Jon rolls off of Bekah. His hard expression softens and he kisses her then heads to the bathroom. She expects him to return but when the shower turns on she pads over to the bathroom.

“Tae?” Bekah looks into the shower and Jon’s forehead is pressed against the tile and the water is running down his back. He doesn’t move or answer. “Baby?” Bekah enters the shower and wedges herself between the shower wall and his body. Jon’s eyes closed and her hand comes to cup his cheek. “Jon?” Bekah runs her thumb across his cheek.

“I’m sorry Beks.” He opens his eyes and looks at her.

“Sorry for what?” She keeps her hand in place and blinks the spray from her eyes.

“For everything Beks. For everything but I’ll start with my behavior in bed just now.”

“Jon.” Bekah goes to kiss his lips and he moves.

“Let me finish. I got jealous. I got pissed off. I didn’t talk to you. I have let you and my team down. I just...” Jon takes a deep breath.

“Jon, let’s get out of the shower and talk okay?” Jon nods his head and let’s Bekah lead him out. She dries them both off and snuggles into his chest in bed.

“I’m sorry.” He says again and runs his hand down and up her arm then pulls her body flush with his.

“You keep saying that.”

“I mean it.”

“And the jealousy thing?” Bekah looks up at him.

“I couldn’t see beyond a poor camera angle and got angry that these local guys could see you almost daily. That they could easily have you if they wanted to.”

“But they don’t and they won’t.” She reassures him. “And the whole mine thing?” Bekah whispered out and rubs her shoulder.

“Fuck Beks did I hurt you?” Jon kisses the spot that already looks like it’s bruising.

“It was in the heat of the moment and I’ll be fine. But Mine Jon? The possessive sex thing isn’t exactly you.”

“I know. I just... fuck.... fuck... fuck.”

“You fuck?” Bekah laughs. Jon sits up on his elbow and looks down at Bekah.

“Bekah. I love you and I know we said we aren’t naming this but I love you and I’m a fucking idiot for not telling you this years ago.” Jon leans down and kisses her lips.

“Jon...” Bekah breathes out.

“And not just love. I don’t want to live without you honestly. When we leave each time it gets harder. When that hint of cinnamon smell from your pillow is gone I find myself in the kitchen trying to replicate it but it’s your smell. You. I want you. I want you to come to Chicago, run my new foundation, build a life with me, together. Je t’aime Rebekah. I said it once before and didn’t realize then that I meant it but I do.” He drops back down so their faces are inches apart.

“Jon.” Bekah places her head on his chest. He combs his fingers through her wet hair.

“You don’t have to say anything Beks. I don’t want you to say it back unless you mean it. I’m okay with being just this. Okay? Just know that’s what I want is more and if you don’t then we keep doing what we are doing but if you consider even a little bit of what I just said that we can start slow and not all at once. I’m in this for the long haul Beks.” He hand glides under her chin and slowly moves it to look her in the eyes and kisses her lips again.

“Okay.” Bekah quietly says.

“Okay? Okay to what Beks?”

“Okay....”

[clumsyclifford]

don’t need money, don’t need sleep (just need your pretty face)

hi !!!!! some jalex fluff for you all :)

back when i was looking to start writing some jalex i requested prompts from my friends and @tirednotflirting gave me three from this list: 14, 23, and 82. sam i am sorry it took me so long to get this done (and that it’s not like, my best work or anything) but i am treating this like a prompt fic even though you never actually sent the prompt to my inbox so here it is as its own post. how exciting

title is from bottle and a beat by all time low god that song really did not deserve to be a b-side have i mentioned i love all time low?? was that evident?? anyway. onward

read it here on ao3

Jack yawns. “I’m sleepy.”

“Then go to sleep, you dolt,” Alex says, although it’s dripping with fondness and he’s sure Jack can tell, even over Skype.

“No,” Jack says. “Talking to you.”

“We can talk tomorrow,” Alex says logically. “I’ll be home tomorrow.”

“Mm, that’s too long,” Jack says, and then yawns again. “Alex,” he says, stretching out the vowel, “I’m tired. ” He closes his eyes and buries his head on his pillow. The angle of his camera really should be unflattering, but Alex is so in love, and he misses falling asleep with Jack so much, that even getting to see his almost-asleep face is feeding a part of him.

“You want me to sing you something?” Alex asks. Jack smiles, or at least the visible half of his face does.

“Just tell me about your day,” he says. His voice is barely audible and his lips hardly move; he’s clearly just on the verge of falling asleep completely. Alex is concerned for his phone battery.

“I’ve told you about my day already,” he says.

“Tell me again. I like to hear your voice.”

They’re so ridiculous, Alex realizes. They are the shitty rom-com couples that people point at to say look how unrealistic that is. Nobody acts like that in real life. But Alex is happy with Jack, happier than he’s ever been, and he thinks that’s more than worth the cheesy tropes.

“Alright,” Alex says. He settles back against the hotel pillows. They’re too soft; if Jack were here he’d have a lot of choice words about that. Jack’s firm anti-soft-pillow stance has taken over their bed — all of their pillows are relatively unyielding. Yet another way that Jack has made himself a permanent fixture in Alex’s life. God, Alex loves him. “Well, I woke up at the hell hour of five in the morning, and then I tried to Google Maps my way to the radio station, which didn’t work, and I ended up kind of lost. So then I called Rian, because obviously I didn’t want Bryan to know I got lost, and Rian just laughed at me, and then together we figured it out — there are two places here with the same address, like, one is the radio station and the other is, like, a convenience store, so I don’t know what kind of planning went into that? Anyway, the radio promo stuff was fine, and then I went and got coffee and called my boyfriend, except he didn’t pick up because he was still asleep, and I should have probably known better than to try and call, so I left him a really cute message that I bet he still hasn’t listened to.”

Alex pauses, watches the screen. Jack’s breathing is even. He’s never been the kind of person who could fall asleep right away, but now must be an exception, or maybe he’s more tired than usual, because he’s already dropped off, and his phone is moving irregularly until it finally slips out of Jack’s grasp and the screen goes dark, face-down on the bed. Alex smiles. “And then I had a boring day and then I Skyped my boyfriend and he had the audacity to fall asleep while I was in the middle of talking to him,” he concludes. “And I love you, and I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight, sweetheart.”

Jack doesn’t reply, so Alex resolves to remind him tomorrow. Maybe without calling him sweetheart, though. Jack doesn’t take kindly to nicknames unless they’re grossly unrealistic (sugarplum, and such).

For the moment, though, Alex listens to Jack breathe slowly, and then he hangs up the call, sets his phone aside, and pulls the covers over himself. Sleeping alone is one of Alex’s least favorite things, but he’s lulled to sleep by the promise of not having to do it again tomorrow night.

-

“Hi,” Jack breathes, throwing his arms around Alex’s neck. Alex gives a little, wrapping his arms around Jack’s waist and squeezing tight.

“Hi. I missed you.”

“I missed you,” Jack echoes. “More. Fuck, it’s good to hear your voice.”

Alex laughs. “You heard my voice yesterday.”

“Not like this,” Jack says, bringing his hands reverently to Alex’s throat like he wants to feel the way it moves when Alex talks. “It’s so much better in person.”

“That’s rude,” Alex says. “You listen to my voice on recordings all the time. Are you saying I’m worse on albums than I am live?”

“Whatever,” Jack says, drawing Alex into a kiss. He’s managed to suspiciously sidestep the question — Alex will have to interrogate him further later on —  but for now he just hugs Jack close. Yet another cheesy rom-com trope: kissing on the doorstep.

It makes Alex chuckle, so it might do it for Jack too. Alex pulls away. “They should make a Hallmark movie about us.”

“Fuck, I’d love that,” Jack says, grinning and stealing another kiss off Alex’s lips. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a Hallmark movie, but I’d watch it if you were in it. Or if I was in it, honestly.”

“I don’t think they’d cast us as ourselves.” Their acting careers begin and end with the “Something’s Gotta Give” music video. “And I would want to be played by Jason Statham.”

“Jason Statham? Why the fuck?”

It had really just been the first name to come to mind, so Alex shrugs. “Handsome and British?”

Jack snorts. “I want to be played by Brad Pitt then.”

“What the fuck do you and Brad Pitt have in common?”

“Uh, excuse me? We’re both sexy and have cult followings.”

Alex laughs, loud. “Got me there.” It makes Jack smile indulgently, all pleased like he’d gotten precisely the reaction he’d wanted, and Alex loves him so much it threatens the break the seams holding his heart together and just flood him. It might already have done.

“Okay, it’s cold,” Jack says. “You’re letting all the fucking air in, you asshole.”

“You can’t be nice for more than one minute.” Alex edges past Jack into the house. It’s true they’re letting the cold night air inside, but if Jack’s going to be a shithead then two can play that game.

“It’s late and I’m tired,” Jack whines as they walk together to the bedroom. Alex drops his bag on the floor. He can unpack it later. Tomorrow, or the day after, or next week — definitely at some point. Maybe he can harass Jack into unpacking it for him. Bribe him with sexual favors or a fancy dinner or something.

“Babe, you’re preaching to the choir,” Alex says. He’s exhausted. Travel takes it out of him, and the prospect of curling up with Jack, cold feet pressed against calves under the warmth of the blanket, is so appealing it almost makes Alex cry. Putting on a silly affectation, he says, “Prepare the bed, monsieur, and I shall join you presently.”

“Ah, yes,” Jack says, rolling with it — because he’s the best and weirdest boyfriend ever, and so perfect for Alex — with an exaggerated bow. He jumps into bed, already pajama-clad in boxers and one of Alex’s shirts, kicking down the covers so they’re far back enough for Alex to slip underneath. In a French accent, he says, “Le bed is prepared, monsieur Gaskarth.”

“Merci,” Alex says, which is about the extent of his French knowledge. Carelessly discarding his travel clothes, he grabs a comfier shirt and pulls it on. Then he clambers into bed, Jack’s arm settling comfortably over his shoulders. Even more than their reunion hug/kiss/debate at the door, lying down with Jack in their bed at home restores in Alex a sense of peace that he only finds here. He wishes it existed in words instead of just feelings, but it doesn’t. Alex would know; he’s tried, hundreds of times, to write it down, has filled pages with efforts to find an adequate description, but there’s nothing like the feeling. Nothing like just being at home with Jack, redundant though that is.

(If it’s Jack, it’s home. But it’s nice to have a place where they can mutually agree to be at home with each other.)

“I missed this,” Jack murmurs, leaning his head onto Alex’s shoulder as Alex shifts to accommodate him. “Before you say it, I know you were only away for a day, but I can still miss it.”

“I was going to say I missed you too,” Alex says. “But now that you’ve mentioned it, Jack, come on. I was only gone for a day. Don’t get clingy.”

Jack bites Alex’s shoulder and Alex laughs. “You’re an asshole.”

“I know.”

“I’m joking,” Jack adds, yawning.

Alex reaches across Jack’s lap to grab his hand. It’s a little awkward, holding Jack’s left hand with his own, but they make it work. “Okay. Tell me about your day. We didn’t talk all day because I was traveling.”

Jack hums. “Seriously, now?”

“I talked you to sleep last night,” Alex protests. “It’s only fair.”

“So you don’t even want to know about my day? You’re just going to fall asleep?”

Alex shakes his head as Jack straightens up in mock-indignance. “Come on,” he entreats Jack, shuffling lower to curl up against him. Jack’s not small in most ways, because he’s the tallest in the band, and his personality fills every room like a gas, reaching the corners no matter how far they are. But he’s so skinny, so many lean lines, that it should be more difficult to cuddle up to him. Still, Alex finds it surpassingly easy. He rests his head against Jack’s chest, immediately attuned to the steady beat of his heart. When the foundations of Alex’s world are crumbling to the ground, when he’s grasping at straws or gasping for air, he can always sink an anchor into Jack’s heartbeat.

Objectively, it’s just a ba-bump rhythm like any other, but it’s music to Alex, and music has always been his driving force.

“Fine,” Jack huffs, curling his fingers into the cotton of Alex’s shirt. Alex burrows into him, closing his eyes, sliding his legs between Jack’s under the covers and slinging one arm over Jack’s stomach. “But it wasn’t that exciting. Mostly I just waited for you to get home.” Yeah, right. Even Jack can’t sit around doing nothing for a full day. “I don’t know. I washed my dishes from yesterday. Listened to all of Enema start to finish. Called my mom. It wasn’t that eventful.”

“You’re so ridiculous,” Alex mumbles, feeling his lips buzz against fabric. “Proud of you for doing the dishes, though.”

“Don’t get your hopes up. It won’t happen again.”

Alex smiles, too tired to laugh. “Sure.”

Jack is gently rubbing his knuckles against Alex’s back. “That was it. Not a lot to report, I told you.” “How’s your mom?”

“Good. She asked about you.”

“Oh? What did you say?”

“That you went dark side and became a drug dealer.” Alex snorts. “She took it well, of course. Told me she always knew you were a drug dealer inside and that she was glad you were living your truth.”

“She did not say that.”

“I am one hundred percent serious, I can call her right now and ask.”

If Alex weren’t so worn out, he’d keep up the banter, but he’s pretty sure neither of them are up for it at the moment, so he lets it drop. For a few minutes, they sink into an easy quiet. Alex sighs, content. His soul has stopped its restless search for comfort, now that he’s home, now that they’re reunited, and the calm washing over him is stronger than a sedative. “Mm, I’m so tired,” he says, mouth barely moving. “Wanna sleep.”

“I’ve been tired for, like, twenty-four hours,” Jack says. “Go to sleep. I’m right there with you.” He drops a kiss onto the top of Alex’s head, knuckles still tracing their pattern just under Alex’s shoulder blades, a sweet soporific lulling Alex to the edges of consciousness. He wants to kiss Jack goodnight, but he doesn’t have the energy to move. As it is, he’s pretty sure he’s already drifted off.

“G’night,” he remembers to say.

Jack drums his fingertips over Alex’s back, and even though Alex can’t see him, he knows Jack is smiling. “‘Night. Love you.”

Fuck, that’s what he’d forgotten. “Love you,” Alex exhales with the last of his waking energy, and falls asleep after that, with no reason left not to.

(He would say I’m happy to be home, but he’s already said it with love you, and he knows that Jack knows.)

[kayincolwyn]

In Memory Of Roxy

Yesterday my family and I sadly had to say goodbye to our beloved family cat Roxy, whom we have had in our family for about 16-17 years, nearly half my life.

Within the last week she got very sick and went downhill quickly, and she showed all the signs of fading away that we've seen in cats of her age that we have had in the past, so rather than prolonging her suffering we decided to take her to the Humane Society to have her put to sleep yesterday. Sadly because we are still in the midst of a global pandemic I wasn't able to be with her in her last moments like I wanted to be, but thankfully she was quiet and calm when we gave her over, and they said it went smoothly and she didn't struggle. We believe she was ready to go, and that gives us some comfort.

I realize that losing a 'pet' in the midst of a global pandemic and widespread civil rights protests, all of which are of course important and need our attention, seems small and inconsequential, and I can understand that as I know others are having to face far more pain and loss than I am right now, and no doubt some would say 'well she's just a cat'. Trust me, I know that the timing of this is crazy, as having to deal with the weight of everything that is going on around me as well as my grief is just surreal for lack of a better word, and I know that there are those who see animals as having less importance or value than human beings, which I can kind of understand at least to a point (even though I don't wholly agree), but then in my experience you can love an animal as much as you can a person, if not exactly in the same way, and you can certainly grieve for the loss of them as much as you can for the loss of a person, as I know from experience

C.S. Lewis, the author of The Chronicles Of Narnia, once said this when speaking of love:

“To love at all is to be vulnerable. Love anything and your heart will be wrung and possibly broken. If you want to make sure of keeping it intact you must give it to no one, not even an animal. Wrap it carefully round with hobbies and little luxuries; avoid all entanglements. Lock it up safe in the casket or coffin of your selfishness. But in that casket, safe, dark, motionless, airless, it will change. It will not be broken; it will become unbreakable, impenetrable, irredeemable. To love is to be vulnerable.”

I agree with Lewis here, that, and whether we like it or not, with love comes vulnerability, and if we want the joy of bonding with another person, or even with an animal, we must accept also the potential grief of losing them, as we inevitably will lose both humans and animals that we love at some point in our lives. That vulnerability, that potential grief, is all part of a package deal that just we have to accept as best we can if we choose to love. Love and loss must go hand in hand in this world that we live in as difficult as that reality may be.

With all of that said, I just wanted to tell you a little about Roxy.

Like my dog Shasta (who I also wrote a tribute for a few years ago), we inherited Roxy from my aunt Stephanie after she passed away when Roxy was a kitten. Stephanie bought Roxy at a pet store, and I think she named her after the song Roxanne by The Police. Roxy stayed with us in our trailer along with Shasta and my sister's cat Smokey (who passed away last year at about the same age as Roxy) for about the first ten years of her life, and I admit to my regret that I didn't pay as much attention to her or bond with her as much then as much as I did with Shasta or Smokey, as she was at that time more standoffish and something of an 'ice queen', and there were times I would lash out at her in anger, and I feel that I ignored her far more than she deserved.

But about seven years ago when we moved out of our trailer and into our apartment where we now live, with my sister taking Smokey with her and with my dad helping Shasta find a new home (as we couldn't take Shasta with us) with some friends of his on the coast, we took Roxy with us, and once she got over the usual anxiety of being introduced to a new home, she began to blossom in ways that she hadn't before. I think we realized overtime that she had been more standoffish and 'icy' because she didn't like having to compete with other animals and was more comfortable having the place to herself, so for the next seven years we let her 'rule the roost' so to speak, and she opened up more and became more affectionate, and my mom and I bonded with her more overtime, and when my wife Kaylyn moved in about a year later she bonded with her more as well.

Roxy could be something of a 'diva' at times, demanding our complete attention, but she could also be very sweet, and she was often quirky and silly, and as many animal lovers will talk about, overtime we developed our own little traditions with her, like her love of sitting in front of the heater while eating some goodies, also known as 'heats and treats', or 'Sunday dinner' when we would give her a can of wet food as a special weekly treat which she was always ecstatic about, or how she loved to lay in between my mom's legs when she was sleeping in bed, or lay on my lap while I was watching movies or shows or writing or chatting with friends on my laptop on the couch in our living room, or how she would greet me at the door almost every night I came home from work, waiting and hoping for more treats, or how she would 'help me' with my exercises by plopping on the floor next to me while I was working out in my room, or how she would plop on the floor in the midst of gatherings of family or friends at our place, as if saying 'look at me', or some of her favorite sleeping spots in our apartment (or should I say her apartment), including my 'Tardis' (or should I say her Tardis), a Doctor Who throw blanket that Kay bought me a few years ago, which she often laid on while Kay and I hung out together in our room, keeping us company, or how Kay and I would refer to my mom as 'grammy' or to ourselves as 'mom and dad' and would call her our 'fuzzy daughter'.

There were all of these traditions, and more, that we developed over our seven years with her here in our little two bedroom apartment, and her presence and these moments with her would make us smile or laugh or would give us a little more joy than I believe we would otherwise have, and while for the first half of her life I admit that we may not have appreciated her as much as she deserved, in the second half we realized what a wonderful little soul she was and really bonded with her and were grateful that she was a part of our lives.

Roxy seemed to be very healthy for her age, and looked very good for her age as well, even to the point that I had begun to call her 'the Sophia Loren of kitties', and I had hoped that she would be one of those very rare cats that made it into her twenties, but I knew her time would come someday and with her age that it could come anytime, though I wish we had had more time with her, and as many animal lovers will say, I wish that she could live longer, as long as us 'hoomans' can live.

After Roxy was put to sleep she was wrapped in my Tardis (her Tardis, now and forever) blanket and placed into a sealed canvas bag that the Humane Society gave us, and then my mom and I took her up to my dads place out in the country up in Washington, and we buried her in a garden area behind their house, under an open sky and next to a fence with a big beautiful green pasture behind it. We also sprinkled some of our friend Bryan's ashes in the grave with her, as our friend Bryan (who passed from cancer about three years ago, and who I also wrote a tribute for) had a special bond with Roxy and she with him whenever he came over to visit us, so we think he would have appreciated if some of his ashes were left with her.

These last few days have been hard for me I admit, especially knowing that I was somehow, in the words of my wife, 'her favorite human', with her wanting to be around me more than any of us, but with that honor I also bonded with her the most I think, so I have been doing a lot of crying the last few days, which is unusual for me, and it has been hard letting her go, and like I was telling a friend a little while ago, it now feels like a part of our home is missing.

A couple nights ago with the encouragement of my friend Annie (who also sadly recently lost her cat Paws) I took about an hour to just hold her in my lap and tell her how I felt about her, apologizing to her for all of those times that I was mean to her or ignored her, especially in the first half of her life, thanked her for being with me for nearly half my life and for all the joy she had given me and telling her how much I loved her and would miss her, and just crying over her while she burrowed quietly in my lap, not understanding my words but maybe understanding how I felt about her on some primal level.

It was still hard to let her go, but I tried to do my best, and am still trying. But I am grateful for the time that I and my family did have with her, and for all the ways she enriched our lives. I also hope that somehow she will live on in spirit. Like my family and I have been saying, maybe Shasta or Bryan or Stephanie were there to help her cross over into whatever spiritual realm there may be for animals beyond this one, which I hope there is. Maybe if all dogs go to heaven, perhaps all cats do too... My medium friend Claire Broad (the author of What The Dead Are Dying To Teach Us) told me, when I shared about losing Roxy with her, that 'She will definitely go into spirit.  She’s consciousness after all like we all are.  I’ve seen many spirit animals.  She’ll be with you still.'

I will try to take that to heart, and I hope that maybe I will see her again someday, somewhere, somehow. But until then I will try to be grateful for the time I had with her, and will try to let her go and move on as best I can. My wife and I are hoping to eventually get another cat after we have had some time to grieve, but we will always remember Roxy and the time we had with her.

So again I know well that compared to the enormity of everything that is going on in our world today that losing an animal can seem like such a small thing, but even so for us it feels like a big thing, and I am grateful to everyone who has offered their condolences and support to us through this, it is much appreciated, thank you.

With all of that said, here is to Roxy, my silly and beautiful and lovable little  'fuzzy daughter', may you rest in peace and I hope that on the other side you have all the treats and laps and love that you could ever want, and I and others will miss you until hopefully someday we meet again.

[antiquechampagne]

Antique Champagne - CH 41 - Getting Back on the Wagon

Even with Nate bringing Valentine into the investigation, no one could find out anything about the history of Hancock’s would-be assassin. The caravan guard’s stories checked out. Both were well known locals hired from Bunker Hill by Bryan, but no one had any idea who he was or where he came from. The chems were untraceable, the packaging unremarkable.

After a few days, Payne had rested enough to return to work and few weeks later, the threat on Hancock’s life melted into the background noise of life. Threats to his life were part of the job and Hancock took it in stride. Soon enough, he was no worse for wear from the whole ordeal, save for the aftereffects of the Addictol. It had flushed Hancock’s body clean of anything foreign, but it still refused to yield in its mission to remove every chem introduced to Hancock’s system for nearly a month.

Tonight, Hancock decided he should give beer another go. Over the last half an hour, he had slowly sipped away.

“How y’ feeling?” Payne asked she sat on the couch, his head resting on her lap.

Hancock softly chuckled. “I haven’t been this tipsy after just one beer since I was 11.”

Payne leaned over him and picked the bottle up off the table, waving it back and forth, the contents noisily sloshing. “You mean half a beer!” she teased before putting it down again.

“Hey,” Hancock lazily smiled up at her. “Do that again! I want to have time to enjoy the view this time.”

Payne chuckled. “Nice try.” She stared down into his dark eyes. She had the sinking feeling she could very easily get lost in them if she tried. Dreamily, she gently stroked his cheek, John closing his eyes at her touch. Her fingers eventually wandered, finding their way to caressing what was left of the bridge of his nose. Watching him lay on her lap, she felt the comforting warmth of contentment. Compared with the weeks of anxiety filled vigils, this was so much better.

This is nice, she thought.

Hancock opened his eyes, looking at her for a moment before his peaceful face turned into a scowl. He pushed her hand away.

“Just what is your deal, sister?” He sat up, pulling away from her. Grabbing the bottle from the table, he downed a couple healthy swallows.

“What?” Payne recoiled. “If you wanted me to stop, you could just ask. No need to be an asshole about it.”

“Here you are, petting me like a damn puppy…” He was starting to slur his words a bit. “I’m not your pet.”

“Damn, you’re a mean drunk.” Payne studied him, watching his anger swell, while trying to hide her pain and confusion. What had brought this sudden sour mood about? “Maybe you should slow down.”

“How ‘bout no.” he sassed back, taking another swig. “I’m in charge here, not you.” He swayed a little as he pointed a finger at her. “And what do you get out of all this anyway? Huh?”

“What?” Now it was Payne’s turn to stand up. “You better get whatever chip is on your shoulder off before you dig yourself any deeper.”

“Everyone wants something from me… chems-caps-fucks-favors- no one stares at this ugly mug for the fun of it! What do you want from me, huh? That’s what I can’t figure!”

“Stop.” Payne had had enough and put her hand up. She hadn’t planned on having this conversation today, and definitely not like this, but this sudden burst of insecurity set her off.

“There is only one thing I need to know from you, and I want to know it sooner rather than later.” She looked at his eyes, they narrowed as if was getting ready to attack. She held on her look as long as she could before her nerves got to her and she had to lower her eyes to the floor.

“I care about you, John,” He huffed at her words, causing her to falter for a moment. She thought back over the time she spent watching him walk the line between life and death. She knew what she felt. “But I need to know if you want relationship… an honest-to-god relationship…because that is what I want. If you don’t want that, I deserve to know.” Payne sat herself back onto the couch, her back straight, her eyes still drilling into the dusty planks.

“If you don’t, that’s fine. I’m not going anywhere. I’ve still got your back.” She tried to raise her eyes to see he reaction, but she could only muster as far as his hands. They still held onto the brown beer bottle. The effort was exhausting, so she gave up and stared at her feet. “I’ll just have to… modify my expectations.”

The couch sagged next to her. She was still afraid to look at him.

“Payne,” he fumbled. “I…I don’t know what to say.”

“Look, you don’t have to say anything. If fact, you probably shouldn’t. Just think about it.” She could feel her throat start to seize up. “I didn’t mean to put you on the spot.”

“Yeah…” Hancock still sounded indignant.

Her heart sank as the silence stretched on between them. He was spooked, she just knew it. She’d cornered him with her demand, forcing him into something he wasn’t ready for. Way to fuck things up.

She almost jumped when she felt a hand on her knee. Payne felt the lump in her throat start to burn.

“I’m sorry,” he finally said. “I’m not used to… people caring about me like that. Hell, no one in their right mind should.”

Confused, she finally found the courage to glance at Hancock’s face. He stared at his hand resting on her leg, his expression hesitant.

Payne reached a hand up and gently caressed his chin. With a little smirk of her own, she lifted his face. “I like what I see… and I’ve had plenty of practice.” She chucked dryly.

She could hardly hold back a wide grin when he joined in.

“I suppose you do!” he added. Hancock’s eyes twinkled.

Before Payne had a chance to realize what was going on, Hancock leaned. Their lips met. She could taste the musty beer as they melted into each other. Relaxing in his arms, all of her anxiety disappeared. From what she could tell, so did his.

Suddenly, he pulled back.

Payne puzzled for a second until me mumbled something before grabbing the trash can near their feet, the contents of his stomach quickly draining into the bin. Laughing, she grabbed the bottle out of his fist.

“Now, you’re cut off.”

He shot her a playful icy look before returning to his retching. Finally finished, he slouched back against the cushions.

“I made it through a whole bottle though!”

“Barely.” Payne sloshed what remained in the bottle before knocking the paltry mouthful. She watched Hancock, now completely sober, fetch his hat from the table where it laid. “Give it another week.”

“Bah!” he pawed the air in defiance. “I’ll have another go tomorrow night, and I’ll keep it down this time.”

“Try something else. I don’t trust you with booze anymore.” She was only half joking. She didn’t like to see him get so easily riled up.

His expression softened. “Payne, I’m sorry. I used to people wanting something from me, there is always a price. I lashed out.”

This time it was Payne who squeezed his knee. “It’s okay. I’ll be fine.”

“I wouldn’t mind, though.” Sheepishly, he kneaded the palm of his hand. “Doing the relationship thing, I mean. I’ll warn you, it’s not my strong suit.”

“Hey, I’m not asking for anything exclusive or anything. Let’s just try it and see how it goes.”

Hancock wrapped an arm around Payne’s shoulders. “That sounds just fine by me.”

[zankivich]

Neighbors: Shawn x Plus Size Reader Chapter 10

a/n: don’t get mad at me. She’s long af. but this was incredibly important for me to write and I wanted to do it justice, and that meant take the time to let this character feel and allow the space to feel pain and to feel defeated. I wanted to show that even the most confident of people can and do struggle under scutiny and that being a confident fat woman isn’t any different. Shit’s hard ya know? Idk I love this a lot. so I hope you love it too? K bye.

*y/n’s pov*

“I don’t know. I don’t like it. I don’t like the lace, I don’t like the length, I don’t like the belt; I don't like anything about it.” You huffed.

Stu nodded. “Baby girl we’ve been at this for hours though. I once saw your boyfriend suck your face because you yawned too cute. I don’t think the dress is going to matter.”

“Ugh, men. You could not be more wrong right now. The dress means everything Stu!”

New Year’s is quite the ordeal. Instead of having it at the apartment it gets switched to a bigger venue in toronto. All of a sudden it’s a lot of industry people and all of Shawn’s family and friends. And it’s beautiful and wonderful, but you can’t help but notice that your part of the guest list is significantly smaller. You invite some friends from the office, and Stu and Bryan of course. At the time, when Shawn had asked, You had said yes with no hesitation, but it hadn’t occurred to you that things were a little more complicated than that. This was the official presentation of you as a couple. Shawn’s performance though pre-recorded, meant buzz, meant there were gonna be a lot of people just looking in your direction all night.

No one still really knew who you were. You and Shawn had never been seen together outside of Toronto and besides the occasional grainy selfie, you were still very much a concept more than a person for a lot of people. The world knew Shawn Mendes was dating someone, they didn’t know that someone was you, and you knew in your heart that this night was going to change all of that.

“You know people are gonna be confused.” You sighed plopping down beside your best friend on one of the couches outside the dressing room.

“Confused about what?”

“Confused about why American Canadian sweetheart Shawn Mendes is dating some fat marketing exec with a baking problem.” You mumbled picking at the material of dress number fifteen.

He sighed. “Is that all you are? Do you think that’s all that matters?”

You groaned in frustration. The problem with being a confident fat woman is they want you to always be a confident fat woman. Even if that’s an expectation that they never have of anyone else. You gotta be a hundred percent always. You were flawed in more ways than one.

“No. Of course not. And I don’t...I don’t care what the world fucking thinks of me. I just want him to be happy and I don’t wanna make his life more difficult. And yea maybe I don’t wanna see the internet rip me to fucking shreds. We know more than anyone how ruthless people can be, Stu.”

“Yea, I know.” He murmured leaning his head against yours. “If the dress needs to matter today, then we can let it matter okay? I just want you to be happy, kiddo.”

“Thank you….. Thank you.”

You go to a different store in between a mini crying session in the dressing room, and shared pretzel bites. There’s a dress that’s all sheer and sparkly rhinestones. It’s black and it’s seethrough and the neckline comes up around the neck almost like a choker. It’s much more adventurous and risque than you feel in that moment so there’s a big hope that it’ll somehow just work itself out.

Back in your apartment however, Shawn sat perched up on your couch playing guitar without a care in the world. You definitely spent more time in Shawn’s apartment, but something about seeing him in your space always made you feel warm inside. And when he put his guitar to the side and pulled you to straddle his lap instead, you simply melted before him. Ugh.

“How was shopping?” He murmured lips pressing staccato, gentle kisses to your neck and shoulder.

You snorted. “I’d say it was the worst experience ever, but every time I go shopping is the worst experience ever so.”

“What happened?”

“It’s nothing. Store’s just aren’t really designed for me. I usually shop online but I wanted this to be special. My mistake.”

He frowned, fingers kneading softly into your back, over your ass, and down to your thighs. God was he annoying and perfect.

“I’m so sorry. Do you want me to make you a new store?” He asked. “Cause I would.”

You grinned reaching to cradle his face in your palms.

“You do a really good job of making me feel like my worries are really dumb. Have I ever told you that?”

“You haven’t. But you also don’t tell me your worries very often. You wanna talk about it?”

You shrugged your shoulders softly, lips jutting out stubborn as you imagined a child probably would.

“Mmm.” You mumbled.

“Mmm?” He smirked mimicking you. “Please? I just wanna help.”

“You didn’t tell them.” You admitted softly.

“Tell who, what?”

“You never told the world that I’m big. And tonight everyone’s gonna know.” You sighed.  “And I don’t care. At least I’m trying not to but I just...they’re not gonna think I’m good enough. I know they aren’t. And they’re gonna be confused and probably disappointed. And I’m just...I don’t know. I don’t know what I am. I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” He breathed tugging your chin down so that your eyes met. “It’s okay. You never have to apologize to me about how you’re feeling.I didn’t think about how public tonight would be. I’m sorry for that. I just want you to be with me, because I love you, and I wouldn’t want to have this night without you. If you don’t feel comfortable going, we don’t have to go.”

You snorted. “Shawn, it’s your party.”

“It’s our party, first of all. And second of all everyone’s showing up for the booze and the food anyway, I doubt they’d notice our absence. I’ll do whatever makes you happy. I told you I don’t want my life to be a burden on yours, y/n.”

“You’re not a burden to me, ever.” You promised. “I’m not skipping either. I don’t let shit like this get to me. I guess it was just on my mind. And I couldn’t help it.”  

His arms snaked around your waist, chin coming to prop on your shoulder. He looked at you with kind and gentle eyes, your heart soaring at the sight. Rude.

“It’s okay. I always want you to tell me what’s on your mind. You know that right?”

You nodded softly nuzzling  your nose against his.

“Can I see your dress though? I wanna know how pretty my baby’s gonna look tonight.”

It gets your mind off of the negative, which was almost definitely his aim.. And instead of going back to playing guitar he wrestles you down to the couch in favor of playing you like his favorite instrument instead. And when his head falls between your thighs, he spends extra time loving the very parts of you you’d found problem with an hour ago. His hands traced lovingly at your stomach, thumbs touching stretch marks, molding to the curve of your skin. Shawn didn’t make you feel beautiful. Instead he seemed to hold a mirror to your very core and ask you to see yourself as you were, as he saw you. He showed you a beauty that had always been there, and only made it more special because you knew he was always willing to help you remember when you forgot. That meant everything to you.

“Can’t wait to kiss you at midnight.” He murmured hands skipping along the waist of your dress. “I’m gonna be the luckiest guy in the room tonight.”

You were standing in front of the mirror back pressed firmly to his chest and you smiled at his reflection.

“You’re too good to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“On the contrary, I think you deserve the world.”

At the door Shawn helps you into the beautiful, sleek trench coach that he got you for Christmas. You help him into the similarly beautiful burberry wool trench coat you got him. You like to think that the two of you look very mature and badass standing side by side. It’s a nice thought.

The venue is full of black and gold balloons. Cheap, cheesy decorations cover every inch of the bar and dance floor. The room is already full of classic New Years energy and there’s barely anyone there yet besides the people still setting up and Shawn's family who somehow made it before even you.

“Babe come see the photo booth!” Shawn murmured excitedly tugging at your fingers until you stumbled towards the booth.

He plopped you onto his lap and quickly smothered your lips in a kiss to stemi any protest you surely would have given him. His hands grabbed at your thighs and he nuzzled your head softly towards the camera.

“Don’t argue with me honey, just take a picture with me.”  He hummed.

Rude.

Suddenly there’s more people there than you think you’ve ever met in your life. Shawn is like the popular guy at school, which is genuinely comical because he’s the dorkiest man you’ve ever met, but everyone wants a piece of him. He spends an hour taking pictures with people you’ve never seen before. Some of them seem like good friends if the way he hugs them and laughs with them is anything to go off of. Women in scantily clad outfits grip him a tiny bit longer than necessary, or smile in a way that seems to push their bodies closer towards his. You don’t find yourself nearly as jealous as you did at the bar on halloween. Something about knowing you’re together and knowing where you both stand allows you to be a little bit more of a grownup. He loves you and you know that and so there isn’t any reason to be jealous. Especially not when he’s drunk and soft and affectionate and all of that gets directly thrown at you and no one else.

You were standing at the bar nursing this very delightful long island when a hundred and sixty pounds of Canadian attached itself to your back.

“Babe!” Shawn snickered directly into your ear. “Baby, I missed you so much.”

Stu had a very amused expression on his face that was full of sass and was very annoying.

“I just saw you thirty minutes ago. What the hell did you drink since then?”

“Brian wanted to do a round of shots. I did three.” He giggled.

Jesus.

“Wonderful. Remind me to get Brian to carry you to bed later.”

“I’d much rather you carry me to bed. But that’s beyond the point. I’m ready to dance with you now.”

This gave you pause. You turned to your boyfriend, tugging his arms from around your neck and took his face carefully in your hands.

“This is important, Shawn. Listen to me. You may have been roofied.”

He snorted. “I wasn’t roofied. I just...I know tonight means a lot to you, and I know it’s scary being here with all these people and I wanna--I wanna even the playing field. I wanna dance with you.”

It is maybe the sweetest thing that anyone has ever offered you in your life. So much so that you’re sort of at a lost for words. You’d never really thought about dancing with Shawn. It wasn’t something he was interested in and that was okay. Stu was a total slut on the dance floor and dancing the night away with him was often the best nights of your life. But, here he was, this annoyingly perfect man offering to do what you wanted to do for literally no other reason in the world than to make you happy?

“What factory did they make you in?” You mumbled fingers reaching up to skim his chin.

He only smiled wider. “Maybe I was made just for you. Now come show me how to dance.”

He stumbles on the edge of the last step to the dance floor and it occurs to you that perhaps there’s a reason Shawn doesn’t dance. And maybe even on top of that, adding alcohol is not going to make things go any better . . .

You’re right. Holy shit he was awful. Some people dance like they have two left feet. Shawn on the other hand was dancing like he had a third foot that had somehow got added. But he’s drunk and he’s happy and he’s just trying to make you smile so literally none of it matters. Because when he notices that a six foot tall man doing the cabbage patch dance bring tears of joy to your eyes, he only does it longer. Because it makes you happy. Because he makes you happy. And he’s not thinking about all the people in the room or what they might think of him because this, this thing that’s happening right now is just between the two of you. And that feels really fucking special.

“Hey!” You shout over the music pulling him into your arms to stop the dancing. “I love you.”

“I love you too!” He beamed. “Only wanna make you happy.”

He’s sweaty and his curls are flopped in his eyes and his cheeks are so red and so soft and you’re so gone on him. How are you this gone on him?

“You do.” You assure him putting your head playfully against his. “Jesus, you do.”

“Will you do something that’ll make me happy?”

He eyed your mouth and without even mentally registered you worked to wet your lips.

“Of course.”

“Will you come drink with me? Need you to get on my level right now.”

Your hands mapped playfully at his broad chest as he seemed to rock you both back and forth on the dance floor as opposed to any sort of synchronized movement.

“How come?”

“Because I wanna have fun tonight. I want to have fun with you tonight. Please?”

Well when you put it like that?

“Tequila?” You grinned.

“Tequilla!”

What’s the worst that can happen?

*Three hours later*

“MY LONELINESS IS KILLING ME--”

“AND I!”

“I MUST CONFESS I STILL BELIEVE--”

“STILL BELIEVE!”

“WHEN YOU’RE NOT WITH MY I LOSE MY MIND”

“GIVE ME A SIIIIIIIIIIIIIGN! HIT ME BABY ONE MORE TIME!”

You slapped your boyfriend’s ass in front of his entire family and all of his friends. His very rich, powerful friends.  Your boyfriend also very much bent over to receive the slap that you were administering. Tequila, friends.

“Babe, hear me out… I think we should go on tour together! We sound incredible.”

“Holy shit you’re right!”

You both bust out laughing because it’s clear that you sounded absolutely terrible. But, you’re drunk and happy and in love, so who gives a fuck? After karaoke time, you wind up back on the dance floor. Shawn is completely in his element, the big, goofy man you’d fallen for, and it’s so much fun. You’re not thinking about any one around you. Not the beautiful women, or the music executives, or the snapchat stories. It’s just the two of you, and some friends, and music. The way it should be.

It’s barely eleven o’clock when you’re both collapsed in one of the booths back away from all the commotion. Tequila really was a hell of a liquid, and probably should be kept far far away from people. It really made you do ridiculous things. Like straddle, your more than happy boyfriend in the middle of a public ass party. He grinned dopely at you and held you against him, his large hands grabbing wonderfully at your ass. What a shit show.

“Hey,” He sighed head flopping against your shoulder. “Thank you so much for coming with me tonight. I’m having so much fun.”

You giggled and kissed his forehead.

“Yea?”

“Yea….Look I--I always care what people think about me, and I always worry about everything around me but...when I’m with you I don’t care about any of that. So, I don’t care if I look dumb, just as long as I’m with you.”

“Well you don’t look dumb. You look happy. It’s a really good look for you. I just want you to be happy.”

“Then stay with me.” He mumbled pulling you even closer. “Stay.”

“Mkay.”

It wasn’t midnight yet, but you and Shawn worked on some fireworks of your own. It felt right to sit there, plum on his lap with his hands drawing circles into your back, or holding your face preciously in his hands to kiss you better. It felt less sloppily dunk, and more loving, more passionate. Like just being together was nourishing for the both of you. Like there was no reason to be partying when you could just be together instead.

When the clock strikes midnight you’re actually just tucked away in a corner, completely wrapped up in one another. If it’s any indication of how the new year will be, you can’t help but think maybe things will be alright after all.

*Shawn’s point of view*

The first day of the new year finds her in his bed and it’s everything he’s ever wanted. They’re less hungover than the first night they met, no vomiting to be had, so he can’t help but plaster himself against her body. She’s still naked from when they’d stumbled inside, drunk and hungry for each other. There’s a bloom of blues and purples on the side of her left breast and down the side of her stomach where he’d hadn’t been able to get enough. His mouth touches lightly at the skin watching her slowly wake up for him.

She hummed softly legs falling open for him to slide between. The skin of her stomach and thighs is so soft and smooth, his spine straightens when he slides against her.  She’s just staring at him with sleep and lust filled eyes. How is he already hard?

“Morning.” She whispered a smile touching her face.

“Happy new year.”

Her fingers grace his hip before wrapping firmly around his hard on, and it feels just as good as it always does.

“Hmmm, again?”

“Sorry.” He whined hips bucking into her hand. “I just can’t get enough of you. I’m not usually like this, I swear.”

“Are you apologizing for wanting to have sex with me?”

“No? Yes? Maybe? I cannot think straight when my dick is in your hand, woman.”

“Yea? Would putting it in my mouth help at all?”

“I don’t know, but I think we should definitely give it a try!”

She gives him head in a way he’s never had before. For something she claims not to love, it is truly magical the way she moves her lips. Her mouth is warm and wet and she sucks him firm and sloppy. And every now and again, she’ll touch a spot right beneath his balls that without fail always makes him nearly blow his load. It’s so rude. And so fucking good.

When she slides off with a squelching plop and peers up at him with spit glistened lips, his brain completely melts.

“I’m wet as hell right now. Get in me.”

He nearly tumbles out of the bed reaching for the condoms in the bedside table. It would’ve been almost embarrassing if not for the immediate dread that descends upon him when there is nothing in his bed side table but an empty box. Fuckin tequlia.

“Goddammit!”

Her legs came up to wrap around his hips and her tongue is tracing his nipple like she’s painting a fucking work of art and WHY ARE THERE NO CONDOMS?

“What’s wrong baby?

He groaned tossing the box to the other side of the bed and gripping firm at one of her thighs around him.

“We’re out of condoms.”

She sucks a mark into his left pec, teeth grazing his nipple again, as if he did not just tell her the worst news in the whole wide world.

“Baby, did you hear me?”

“Mhm. Let’s just do it without one.”

His eyes widened quickly leaning his body above her to see her face better.

She giggled. “I love it when you plank on top of me.”

“I’m sorry, did you just suggest we have sex without a condom? You? The sex health queen? You once yelled about contraception to a bunch of random people in the club.”

“Trust me they needed it. And whenever I’m with new partners I always use condoms. Always. However, I’m on the pill too, and at this point I think I know you don’t have anything, so...why not?”

“I...I’ve never done it without one before.”

“I hear it’s pretty great. But we might not ever know as my vagina gets a little dryer every second we sit here talking about it.”

He bit his lip, hips dipping to skim against hers.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m so sure,” She hummed. “Put it in me.”

His friends had told him stories. They were dumbass stories and he’d never quite believed them. Something about the pull out method and the fact that without the condom it was supposed to be this otherworldly experience. He thought they were just idiots who were too lazy and stupid to put a condom on. Honestly he’d probably still stand by that rational but… the moment he slips inside of her is maybe the greatest physical pleasure he’s ever known. And he’s got no fucking clue how to handle it.

“Holy fuck, y/n.” He whimpered face digging desperately into her neck. “It feels so good.”

She giggled, just simply giggled, but the way it moved her body had him clenching up and grabbing roughly at her hips.

“W--Wait don’t move! Goddamn.”

“Are you close right now?”

“Y/n...I have never been this close in my life.”

She laughs again and without any conscious understanding he covers her mouth with his hand.

“Baby you can’t laugh, I’m gonna cum.”

Her eyes widen and she clenches down on him and he’s pretty much done for then.

“I’m sorry!” She sighed as his hips stutter again. “I didn’t know you covering my mouth would get me going, although that is definitely something we should explore at some point.”

He clenched the blankets in his fist and tried to take deep breaths, but even the way she was blinking at him was hard to watch. He felt like a teenaged boy all over again, completely not in control of his own body. It was all her, and her glorious, magnificent body’s fault.

“Look it’s okay. Just take care of yourself right now. I can tell you need it. We can worry about me later.” She hummed.

He snorted. As fucking if.

His girlfriend was a woman of many needs. And as sweet as it was to think she might grant him an orgasm, he knew better than to ever not reciprocate. So, he did only what he could. He attempted to make her have a mind shattering orgasm in five minutes or less.

He gripped so tight at her hips that there were bound to be marks when he was done, hips shuffling around in small instances trying to locate her g-spot much earlier than he usually would. Similarly, her fingers held roughly at his ass guiding him where she needed him to go and singing his praises when he did. Usually their love making was a little gentler. He was really into passion and holding each other close and orgasms that had them crying out into each other’s mouths. This. This was different.

Even in a state that felt like he was constantly one thrust away from losing it, he still was so her centered. It wasn’t about him getting to “finally”  cum. It was about how good he could make her feel. And something about the time crunch meant he was more focused on her than ever. He just wanted her to feel the way that she made him feel.

When he finds that spot that has her toes curling against the back of his thighs, he grits his teeth and leans up to grab the headboard as he slams into her in a way he’s never done before.

“Holy fuck!” She gasped legs sprawling open in need. “Don’t stop. Please, don’t stop!”

He bit his lip in concentration, slotting his leg over her thigh for leverage and pushing deeper into her body. A shiver racked her entire being and it was the sexiest fucking thing he’d ever seen. Her skin was flushed, lips swollen and wet, breasts bouncing with every slap of his hips against hers. He’d never wanted someone so much in his whole life.

She grabs at his ass again and lets out the most sinful sound when he rubs that spot inside of her that causes her back to arch out, and once again his whole fucking world is rocked.

“You’ve gotta cum for me.”  He grunted. “I need to see this pretty pussy cum; babe, please.”

“Close. Really fucking close. Make me cum!”

Like that’s not what he’d been trying to do the whole goddamn time.

There’s a moment where he releases the headboard and grabs at her ass instead, flesh spilling from his palms as he gives her everything that he has. There’s a noticeable difference. Her moans get higher and more fragmented. She breathes harder and faster. And then her eyes roll back in her head and she stops breathing all together as she squirts all over his dick and her thighs. And try as he might, which he didn’t, there was absolutely nothing he could do at the sight of that but pull out of her just as he came his fucking brains out. He collapsed beside her each of them limp, sweaty, and covered in each other’s bodily fluids.

For a while they just pant and stare at ceiling. He wonders if she’s as fucking mind blown as he is. He wonders if she’s ever squirted for anyone else before, because she’d certainly never done it for him. He also sort of wonders how soon before she’ll let him have a crack at it again, because holy shit.

“Yo….what the fuck was that?” She giggled finally breaking him out of his own thoughts.

He peers over at her and she’s smiling, and just like that he wants to cuddle her into the mattress and never let go. How?

“Did you….was that…?”

She bit her lip. “You made me squirt. No one’s ever done that before.”

“Yea?” He murmured trying not to show just how happy that made him.

“It didn’t like...you’re not grossed out by it are you? Cause that’s the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt in my life.”

His eyes widened and he quickly shook his head at her.

“No. No, I’m not grossed out at all, babe. All I’ve been thinking about since you did it is how much I wanna make you do it again and again and again.”

She whined. “That’s so fucking hot. Get away from me.”

God he loved her.

When she eventually peels herself off the sheets and scratches at her sex-crazed hair, the bed almost feels emptier at the prospect that she might leave. There’s a small part of him that wants to pull her back, to be whiny and needy and desperate, maybe it’s bigger than he even wants to admit. But, he let’s her leave mostly because he still hadn’t regained all of the function in his body yet.

“I’m gonna make breakfast. You want?” She asked pulling an oversized sweater over her body when the fluids have been wiped away.

He nodded smiling softly. “Will you make those cinnamon swirl pancakes?”

She rolled her eyes at him. “You always want the complicated shit. I’ll make you pancakes if you wash my hair for me in the shower.”

“How sweet of you to think I wouldn’t want to wash your hair anyway, but deal.”

She walked to the kitchen, her thighs--and the delightful little limp in her step--still a beautiful reminder of what they’d done just moments before. As soon as he regained feeling in his legs, he was going to go kiss that girl silly.

He was lying there still in eternal bliss when her scream came from the kitchen. And he tumbled out of bed yanking on boxers and grabbing the nearest weapon he could--one of his AMA awards--because surely someone was trying to break into his apartment with a scream like that. He slid into the kitchen on socked feet only to find his girlfriend staring at the TV with her hands over her mouth.

“Jesus, you almost gave me a heart attack!” He groaned setting his award down. “What is going on?”

She simply points at the screen as if that will tell him everything. And unfortunately it sort of does.

“Shawn Mendes and his new boo were seen very snuggled up at the popstar’s New Year’s Eve party. An eyewitness from the party says they were all over each other. And from the looks of these pictures, they definitely were!”

It’s a super intimate moment of them in the corner. She’s straddling his lap and he’s grabbing her ass in a way that has all of his media training running down the drain. E! News is doing their very best job in making sure their audience can see as much detail as possible. The zoom ins, the continue flash of picture after picture. Who ever had snapped the shots had obviously taken them with the intent to sell, because why are there so many fucking shots of one moment of the entire night?

There’s video of it. Of them kissing. Of her apparently groping him in a not so friendly manner. It’s a PR nightmare for sure. But then it only gets worse.

“Fans were incredibly surprised to find out teen heartthrob Mendes was dating someone not famous, and some were even further confused by the woman’s appearance.”

And then it starts. And they start rolling tweets of these “fan” accounts saying the most awful shit. It’s like her worst nightmare right there in front of her and it’s all his fucking fault because every account has some aspect of him attached to it. Whether it’s his face as their profile picture, or his name in some random order in their twitter handle, it all feels like him. Like he might as well be standing in front of her yelling these terrible things at her.

When Shawn start dating fat girls tho?

I’m so confused???????? Shawn deserves better!

Damn y’all Shawn really out here dating anyone. Maybe us ugly girls got a shot after all?

He can’t turn the fucking tv off fast enough. But she’s just standing there, frozen, like it’s still on. Like she can hear what every piece of shit on the internet had ever said about her. And honestly he knows the feeling. The first two or three years of his career had been hell on his self-esteem, if he’d ever really built one up at all. Every time someone called him a girl, or made fun of his braces, of his hair, or his acne, or his body. The shit ran deep. It cut deep. But, he signed up for that. She didn’t. And that was the difference.

He wraps his arms around her when the first teardrop falls from her eye to her lip. His throat feels like it’s full of cotton and he gulps desperately as her pain finds its way to his heart. She’s shaking. And she seems smaller than he’s ever seen her. Like she’s caving in on herself. And why wouldn’t she? It didn’t matter how strong you were, or how confident you were about yourself. When all of these strangers on the internet are telling you something completely different? It’s only a matter of time before that seeps into your conscious.

“I’m so sorry.” he whispered squeezing her tightly. “Please don’t cry, baby? Please?”

He tried to pull her face into his hands, but she just shook her head at him. She was in pain. And it was all his fault.

“I love you so much. That was all bullshit, you don’t need to listen to them. Just listen to me, right now. Please?” He chanted steadily. “I love you. You are so incredibly beautiful to me. And you know that. You know how beautiful you are period. You’re a complete and total badass!”

Her nose was red, and her whole face seemed to be warming by the minute. He was prepared to go all night. To rattle off every single thing in this world that he loved about her, and there were many. But then, out of nowhere she just...stopped. She bit her lip and took a deep breath, and the tears might as well have soaked into her skin. All of that emotion. Gone. It was maybe the most terrifying thing he’d ever seen her do.

“It’s fine.” She whispered, voice hoarse. “I uh...I need to go home for a little bit, okay? I just--I’ll make your pancakes later, I promise.”

“Y/n,” He mumbled reaching for her as she pulled away from him.

She smiled. It didn’t reach her eyes. Hell, it barely reached her lips. it looked more like a grimace.

“It’s fine. Shawn, honest.”

“Why would you lie to me right now? Just let me help. Don’t close yourself off from me because of this.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. I just need to go home for a little while.”

She stopped making eye contact, started gathering her stuff instead. And his heart breaks every time she picks a piece of herself up and tucks it a way. There’s a very scared, insecure part of his mind that wonders if she’ll ever come back. He was so far outside of his element and outside of his knowledge base, that he genuinely had no idea what to do. He didn’t know how to comfort her, he didn’t know what to say to make any of it better. And for that reason, he let her go, let her leave. No matter how much his body itched to hold her close.

He walked her to the door, his chest tightening with every step she put between them, and he tried one last time to get through to her.

“Will you please just...call me if I can help? If I can do anything. I--I can’t even begin to--I’m so sorry, y/n.”

She reached out to cup his cheek in her palm and he immediately fell into the warmth of her touch, gripped desperately at her wrist like it might somehow stop her from leaving him.

“It’s not your fault.” She whispered.

He bit his lip feeling the tears that were brimming angrily at the edge of his eyes.

“How come every time you tell me it’s not my fault, it feels like it is?” He chuckled dryly.

She doesn’t answer.

“I’ll talk to you later.”

“Can I at least hug you goodbye?”

She paused. “I don’t...I don’t really wanna be touched right now. If that’s okay?”

He’s never wanted to cry so much in his life.

“Y--Yea. No, of course. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

And then she’s gone and it’s like she took the sun, and the moon, and her touch, and everything else good with her too.

****

@shawnmendes: friendly reminder that if you’re saying terrible things about my loved ones, I don’t consider you a fan. At all.

His phone and email had been going off all morning, but he figures if he never leaves the gym, he never really has to answer them. His girlfriend hadn’t answered a single text in hours. If he wasn’t getting answers, neither was Andrew. The E! News story had gone somewhat viral and it was definitely a thing now. She was hurting, and despite her explicitly telling him it wasn’t his fault, he hadn’t been able to rid the image of her face crumpling in the kitchen from his mind. He pushed the the incline on the treadmill up another level and adjusted his speed to make it harder, trying to fill his head with literally anything else but her suffering. He’d been down in the gym for two and a half hours and nothing was working. He just needed her.

His phone lit up and buzzed for the umpeenth time that morning only this time it was one of two people he’d actually answer for. He let the treadmill come to a grinding halt and picked the phone in his hand.

“Hey mum,” he panted. “Sorry! I’m at the gym.”

“Oh. Sorry to bother you, do you want me to call back later?”

“No. I uh--I’ve maybe overdone it a little bit today. I could use your voice in my head.”

The gym was completely empty so he didn’t feel so bad sliding himself down against one of the mirrored walls to talk to the only person who might be able to make it better somehow.

“Yea...Andrew called us today. Said he hasn’t been able to get a hold of you.”

He sighed. “Did he tell you why?”

“He did. How is she doing?”

The fact that she asked about his girlfriend made his mangled heart a little less damaged. His mum was just incredible in that way.

He pulled a little desperately at his sweaty hair and knew that he probably looked as defeated at he felt.

“She...I’ve never seen her look like that mum. She’s been so scared this whole time that people were gonna judge her, or think that we shouldn’t be together. And I kept spouting her this idealistic bullshit that no one would care, that it wouldn’t matter. It’s all my fault.” He muttered pinching his eyes shut as the tears came again.

“Oh Shawn you can’t take all that weight onto yourself, sweetheart. You only have power over yourself and over your actions. You don’t dictate how the world responds. It’s not your fault.”

He sniffled angrily. “But if I wasn’t who I was, she never would’ve looked like that. She never would’ve cried like that. I just wanna make her happy, but these people only want to hurt her because of me . . . Mum she wouldn’t even let me hug her this morning.”

His chin trembles a little bit and so he hides his face in his arm despite the fact that no one else is around.

“You and I both know that’s not what that was about.” She hummed softly. “Now listen to me. This morning was probably very hard for her, just as I imagine it was for you. And i think if you wanna be there for her right now, you’re gonna have to forgive yourself for whatever it is you think you did wrong. That pain that you’re feeling in this moment? The love that you have? That’s good, Shawn; that’s beautiful. Focus on that, not on what some box on the internet with your face attached said. That’s not you. The person with their heart on their sleeve is you.”

His mum was his rock. She had been his entire life, and a moment like that just solidified it. Sometimes when he’d been anxious when he was first starting out, she would just call him and talk to him until he could breathe normally again. And this felt like that. This felt like he was a little kid again just waiting for his parent to make it all okay again. The magical thing was that she actually did.

“She left this morning.” He murmured when he could find it within himself. “And I’ve wanted to go to her ever since. But I don’t...I don’t wanna make things worse than they already are.”

“I get that. Do you think she really wants the space?”

“I don’t know. Sometimes I think I know every thought she’s ever had. Other times I think I’ve never known anything in my whole life.” He admits.

“Why don’t you go to her. Show that you’re there if she needs it. She’ll tell you what she wants. All you can do is respect that. I’ll tell Andrew to maybe take it easy on you today okay?”

“Okay.”

“In the meantime, I think he would appreciate it if you stepped away from social media until your head is clear.”

He snorted. Andrew was lucky the initial draft of him quoting a Brendon Urie tweet that had in so many words told everyone who was rude to his loved ones to fuck off, hadn’t made the cut.

“Yea I’ll make sure to do that. . . Thanks mum. I love you.” He breathed.

“I love you too darling. Come visit us when this all gets cleared up, eh?”

“We will.”

It’s a long trek back to his apartment. There was a strain in his thigh, that told him he’d over done it. He almost went straight to her door only to catch a whiff of himself and quickly steered his way back to his apartment. The washing is rushed and half hazard. All he wanted was to get back to her. To be there with her. Nothing else really mattered in that moment. Not the label. Not Andrew. Not twitter. And for maybe the first time in his whole entire career, not even the fans. He was really experiencing tunnel vision, and that meant something incredibly important to him, because never had he ever felt that way before. That she was everything. But, she was everything.

When he gets to her door, he freezes. Despite the soothing voice of his mother, there’s still so much uncertainty that it’s startling. He didn’t know what he would do if she asked him to go away. It had only been maybe four hours, but it had felt like days. Every moment that she was hurting and he wasn’t doing anything about it felt like his own personal failure. So he just had to try to give her everything that he could. She deserved that much of him.

He knocked hesitantly and waited with bated breath. It’s perhaps the longest wait of his life.

When the door opens, his eyes do their best to take in her every atom. Her eyes are still red. She’d been crying within the last hour at least. She’s wearing a hoodie he bought her when he’d left Toronto for too long to not bring a gift back, back when they still had zero clue what they were to each other. It’s fluffy and white and the sleeves of it seem to be drenched in tears if the malformations in the fabric are anything to go off of. The lights inside her apartment are off. She still smells like lavender and lime from the night before. She sorts of looks like hell, but even then hell had never looked so good. His whole body ached to move forward, to grab and hold and touch, but he remembered the last thing she said to him and knew that it wasn’t his place at that moment

“Hi.” she mumbled hoarsely. “You made it five whole hours.”

He twisted anxiously at the ring on his finger.

“I’ve been in the gym the whole time. My legs hurt very much.”

Her eyes do that thing where they sort of brighten at any sign of danger. Her eyes look him over for any sign that he might be hurt and he almost wants to laugh, or cry, because who the hell cares about him right now?

“Are you okay?” She asked.

“Not really. Are you?”

“No.”

“Can I come in? I don’t need to be in the same room as you, if that’s not what you want right now. You don’t have to say a word to me at all I just….I just wanna be here. With you. Please?”

Her lip started to tremble and so she bit anxiously at it. She twisted at the door knob and blinked rapidly as her eyes welled up all over.

“Remember when I said I didn’t want to be touched?”

He nodded. “Yes.”

He doesn’t know how to quite describe the look on her face. It was like a crumpling. Like the skin of her face just caved and folded in on her self revealing this profound sadness that she’d been trying to lock away from him, from maybe herself. His heart broke like a scab bursting to let all of the pain and the ugly out again. She brought her hands up to cover her face and mumbled out through her sobs:

“Will you just hold me please?”

It’s the fastest he’s ever moved in his life, scooping her up in his arms that way. He exhaled this long, heady breath just feeling like he was sinking under the weight of her pain. She cried into his shoulder for a long while, so he cradled her there against his chest and just breathed. And he breathed and he breathed as if it might help anything, like it might get her to calm down.

When her sobs turned to hiccups he steered her gently in the direction of her bedroom pushing her softly beneath the covers. She liked to have as many blankets as humanly possible, and usually it had him sweating in the middle of the night, but for now there was no question. She stared at him with wide eyes when he didn’t immediately crawl in after her, so he reached for her hand and squeezed firmly.

“I’m just turning the aromatherapy on okay? I’ll be right back.”

It’s a little water diffuser that sits on top of her dresser. He’d gotten it for her for Christmas, when her old one broke. Eucalyptus quickly filled the air as he made his way back to her. They often times had tried to get as close as two humans physically could. Shawn liked to think they were sappy in that way, but today is a whole new level. He’s never held her so close. Never failed to see where his legs ended and hers began. Never intertwined their fingertips with such ferocity. But she needs him. And so he’s there. It’s just that simple.

“Will you do me a favor?”

He peered down at her, big brown eyes doing him in immediately.

“Anything.”

“Will you just sort of….smother me?”

“I’m sorry? N--No. No I am not going to smother you. I would never do anything to hurt you, ever.”

She snorted. “Not in a harmful, with a pillow kind of way, Shawn. Jesus! I meant more like in a  put all of your body weight on top of me until I feel like I’m rooted to this earth again, kind of smothering.”

They’d had conversations before. Usually when they were high. She would tell him about this concept of floating. It was a defense mechanism apparently. The body experiences trauma and so it sort of leaves itself. It shuts down to protect the brain, so that you don’t remember. She’d experienced that sometimes in her life, but she never really knew how to come out of it. Her body sometimes didn’t want to. So, when she asks him to help root her, he gets it immediately. And he feels like an ass for making it seem weird, or like something he shouldn’t have to do. Of course he’d root her to the bed, if that’s what she needed.

“Oh. Oh, of course. Yea just...just tell me if I’m doing it right okay?”

She nodded moving slowly to her back and parting her legs for him to slide between. He was nervous that his long awkward limbs would squish her. And he kept trying to find ways to settle against her without hurting her. Eventually she must’ve gotten tired of his bullshit, because she tugged at his shirt until he lost balance and toppled on top of her. Before he could even find it within himself to be terrified, she let out her first giggle since that morning.

“See that’s all I wanted.”

*five hours later*

“I wanna shower.”

It’s the first thing she’s said in hours and it startles him a little bit, but there’s no way in hell he’s ever gonna tell her no.

It surprised him that she asked him to follow, asked if he’d still wash her hair for her. She’s still quiet throughout most of the process, but it’s like she’s waking up, slowly.

The next time she speaks is when she’s sitting on her bed brushing through her hair to detangle the strands.

“I wanna get a piercing I think.”

He’d just pulled on his underwear, but quickly plopped down beside her on the bed.

“A piercing?”

“Yea. Would you go with me?”

“Of course I would. When do you wanna go?”

“Now. And can we get food afterwards?”

He peered at her for a second trying to understand exactly what was happening. Was it a coping mechanism? Was it her way of saying fuck you to everyone? Was she covering her emotions up again? He didn’t know, and he couldn’t help but remember his mum telling him that all he could do was be there for her if she needed and wanted it.

“Can I?” He murmured pulling her brush gently from her fingers and resuming in detangling the strands. “I wanna understand better about what’s going on here.”

“What do you mean?”

“I just...You didn’t talk for hours, babe. Which is fine. I want you to do whatever you need right now, but then all of a sudden you’re up and moving and the first thing you wanna do is get a piercing? I feel like I’m missing a piece of the puzzle here. I just want to understand.”

Her fingers reached for the necklace at the base of her throat, and it made his heart feel warm to see the swallow there.

“I just need to not think for a while. And I thought this might be a way to do that.” She whispered. “I didn’t meant to scare you.”

“I’m not scared. I just want to be there for you. If you want to get a piercing, let’s go get a piercing.”

She smiled shyly and and tucked her head against his. “And food?”

“And food.”

So they do. He takes her to some random shop in Toronto. She spends a long time looking at different studs and different rings. She points them out and asks him what he thinks and even if they all sort of look similar to him he tries to find the differences that might make her happy. She picks out this pretty rose gold flower and this tiny hoop. Suddenly she’s getting her nose pierced and a forward helix on her ear. It’s kind of badass.

“Are you gonna get one?” She asked as they waited for a worker to become available.

His eyes widened. “Should I?”

“Why shouldn’t you?”

“I don’t know...What would I get?”

“Hmm…”

And that’s how he ended up getting a piercing to make his girlfriend less sad.

“How does it look?” She asked wiggling her nose at him.

He grinned and ran his thumb gently along the bridge of her nose. They’d watched a Star is Born recently, and he kind of wanted to run his finger along her nose ever since. She closed her eyes and scrunched her nose and then whined when it hurt to do so. His heart fucking soared.

“You look adorable.” He murmured taking her face in his hands. “So pretty.”

She brought her hands up to cover his and smiled shyly at the ground.

“You sure you’re not just saying that?”

He shook his head. “I’ve never meant anything more in my life.”

“Mkay….Now it’s your turn!”

It hurts like a bitch. She grabbed his hand and intertwined their fingers, and he assured her he’d be fine, but like….fuck.

The worker goes to get them cleaning solution and she runs her finger gently along the length of his ear where the helix now sticks out.

“I’m gonna be completely and totally honest with you right now. This is really getting me going.”

He chuckled hand resting on her hip. “Really?”

“Like...really, really. You could totally pick me up at a bar right now.”

“Are you insinuating that before this piercing I couldn’t have picked you up? You’re literally my girlfriend.”

She shrugged. “Yea, but like before the piercing who knows if you would’ve had the guts to take me. And now it’s like...damn daddy. You know?”

“No. No I don’t know. But I have a feeling you and my fans would get along much better than you think.” He snorted.

Shit. It didn’t even hit him that what he was saying was wrong until her face dimmed again.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Babe, look at me; I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t think. I need to think more.”

She was still wearing the sweater he bought her and pulled gently at the sleeves till they covered her hands. She shrugged gently and played with the fabric.

“No biggie. What am I supposed to ask you to never bring them up again, just because they think I’m some hideous, fat slob. They’re at least a third of the way right.”

The worker comes back before he can try to dissect what she just said there, and his phone is ringing, because the world hates him.

“It’s Andrew. I’ve been ignoring him all day.”

“Go, take it. I’ll finish up here.” She assured him.

He reached into his wallet and handed the woman his card, squeezing softly at his girlfriend’s hand when she protested about him paying. Suddenly his phone call was a little more important.

“Hey.” He breathed stepping outside into the cold air. “I’m sorry I went ghost. I just...It got bad.”

“Yea, I talked to Karen. She kind of filled me in. How’s she holding up?”

He looked back through the window of the shop and he racked his brain for a way to explain it.

“I--I think we’ll be okay. I don’t know, her coping mechanisms are much different than mine. She secludes where I just wanna talk about everything. So I’m just trying to understand. And trying to figure out how this isn’t my fault, I think.”

“Shawn--”

“I don’t really wanna discuss it right now. If that’s okay?” He mumbled.

Andrew laughed softly. “Kinda contradicts what you just said, now doesn’t it?”

“Yea. Yea, I guess maybe she’s rubbing off on me a little. But like...this isn’t about me, Andrew. It’s about her. And she’s hurting right now. So, it feels like I should be doing everything in my power to make sure that’s not the case anymore, ya know?”

“I understand. We can be okay with that. Do you want me to update you on what your schedule looks like in the next couple of weeks though?”

“Sure.”

She comes outside while Andrew is speaking and wraps her arms around him. He runs his fingers along the bridge of her nose again, and she smiles.

“I have you back in California next week to begin tour rehearsals and Grammy rehearsals.”

“Next week as in when?”

“As in Monday, bud.”

He looks into her eyes and shakes his head.

“Can we push it back?”

Andrew sighed. “Shawn. Grammys are really important here. Miley was prepared to begin on Monday.”

“I will call Miley and personally apologize. I’ll send some flowers or something. Please, push it back, Andrew.”

“What are you doing?” She whispered eyebrows hitching upward.

“I can try to get you there Friday, but that is the latest I can do. You have to be in California.”

He smiled at her and kissed her forehead, but didn’t answer.

“Friday. I can be there by Friday. Thank you. How long am I in California?”

There are fittings to be had. Photoshoots. Tour meetings. Sound checks. Studio sessions. Meetings with the label. Meetings with Andrew. Meetings with the merch people. Meetings with his stylist for tour outfits. And somehow he was gonna have to to make it all happen. It was just different now. She was different.

He made a promise to talk to Andrew later before quickly getting off the phone. He wrapped his arms tightly around her nuzzling their heads together.

“So, dinner? I guess we kind of missed breakfast and lunch.”

“Don’t do that. What did you just do right now?”

He shrugged. “I chose you.”

“What does that mean?”

“I decided that I wanted to prioritize our relationship over everything else. I decided that you mean more than the meetings or the flights, or the endorsements. You come first.”

She bit her lip. “Shawn you don’t need to do that for me. I know I lost my cool today, but I’m a big girl. I can handle myself.”

“It’s not just  for you, honey. I just...I’m just doing what my heart is telling me is right. And my heart is telling me that I’m supposed to be here, right now. Not California. Not in some rehearsal room. Not in a fancy music exec’s office. But with you. So let’s get some dinner, okay? And try to salvage what is left of this day.”

She looks up at him with inquisitive eyes like she’s trying to find a hidden meaning somewhere. But there isn’t one to be had. He simply loved her. That was all. It couldn’t get more honest than that.

“I don’t ever want to get in the way.” She murmured squeezing the fabric of his shirt between her fingers. “I want music to always be what you need it to be, Shawn. I--I’m just learning. I’m trying to mold myself to this life that you have here. And it is...really fucking hard if I’m being honest. And I get why. I knew going into this, that what I am might not make sense for you.”

“Don’t say that. You make all the sense in the world.” He told her fiercely. “I love you. That’s enough, isn’t it?”

She smiled sadly. “I think so. I want it to be so. But, I say all of that to say that...I wanna like, be a part of your life. And so I’ll figure out how to adjust. Just, please be patient with me. You don’t need to change your life for me.”

He let his fingers come up to skim along the length of her neck before he gripped softly at her cheek. Her hand came up to rest over his and all he wanted was to kiss her until the sun came up.

“I’ll try to keep that in mind. Just as long as you keep in my mind that I’ve never met anyone more deserving of changing life around for.”

“Okay.” She mumbled, the corners of her mouth dipping slightly up.

He smiled. “We should probably stop somewhere and get condoms too, because as beautiful as this morning was I’d like to last more than ten seconds with you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Awww you lasted at least twenty, babe.”

Funny.

Taglist: @kitykatnumber @lou-and-me​ @ourlittleshawnie @mutuallynotmutual @wanderingmendes @peacedolantwins2 @chels-nyc @@illloveyouforever1​ @justbeingoceana @grittyisathot @hayyitsfayy​ @claredolphinbear24​  @september-lace @grittyathot @literallyshawn @mchutchmendes

[savingpartoftheworld]

Saving Part of the World - Part Two - Chapter Sixteen

Summary: Set after G-Rev, the World Championships have come to Belfast, Northern Ireland in the hopes of spreading the interest and drawing in tourists. In between all the teen angst and the team drama, something powerful and hungry lurks on the horizon and with the help of the beybladers, it may just destroy part of the world.

Rated: T for cursing and mild violence

Ships: Hints of Mariah/Rei, Hilary/Tyson, Enrique/Julia

Previous Chapters: One Two Three Four Five Six Seven EightNineTenEleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen

The conference room of the Odyssey was in chaos. Lights burned onto the canvas of the top wall, making shadows flee to the back. A machine gusted a strong breeze that did little to alleviate the rising temperature. Assistants scrambled, tilting reflective screens while a photographer ducked and dodged in front of the posing couple, calling out orders and coaxing smouldering looks. 

Ming-Ming paused to survey the scene. No amateur affair, she mused, but hardly something to rival the magazine photo shoots she frequented to promote her albums. Not to mention the lack of enthusiasm exhibited by the models gathered within the room. She eyed the cluster of bladers huddling together at the back of the room while she made a few more notes on her tablet. 

The photographer crouched down, camera up, and tried to cajole Julia — who'd been quite enjoying the camera's attention — closer to an equally unimpressed Enrique. Ming-Ming stifled a sigh. So that was her team Europe and where was Eoin? Nowhere to be seen, again. This was becoming a joke, a farce. She was half tempted to go to Dickinson and demand his expulsion from the team. The guy had less team spirit than Kai Hiwatari and Bryan Kuznetsov combined. 

At least Bryan had made an appearance and standing in the corner with his other two cronies. She couldn't wait to get Tala in front of the camera. With his cheekbones and jawline and that vivid colouring, oh he’d be popular with nonblading fans. The boy was billboard material and add in his disdainful attitude, he’d make the WBBA a lot of money. Which was fantastic, except for the team posters, the Blitzboys were lacking a certain important teammate. She scowled and made another note on her tablet. Hiwatari had promised to show and she believed that promise. He marched to his own beat, yes, but he wasn't a flake when it came to the sport, he just had no punctuality; Eoin, on the other hand, was a, what was the cute Irish term she’d heard, oh yes, a piss-taker.

"Ming-Ming?"

"Hikaru can you please phone back this company" — she handed Hikaru the letter — "and tell them if they want to sponsor the tournament, they'll need to get their placard and posters into me before close of business tomorrow, otherwise they'll miss out. I can't wait all day for them, my media team is almost ready to go." 

She shoved up the frames of her nonprescription glasses — a trick she’d picked up from a famous actress who explained the genius of props in changing people’s perceptions — and frowned at the email on her screen. "Why am I being billed for a bench in the changing rooms?"

"The maintenance team say someone scratched it but I checked it and here are the photos.” 

Ming-Ming peered at the screen. “It looks like someone welded it together. Badly. There’s no finesse. They’re saying we did this?” 

She opened her mouth to put forth a denial, then slumped. There was nothing to suggest one of the bladers hadn’t contributed to this. For Venus's sake. "Right, no more blading in the changing rooms. Honestly, who does that? Get signs up for those idiots and..." 

Across the room, Julia muttered a loud curse and smacked Enrique’s hand. Ming-Ming figured he deserved it but she’d deal with that in a second. If Julia stormed off stage, well she’d worry about that then. “When would someone find the time to weld a bench together? I can believe they scratched it but welding? Puh-lease. Get someone down there to make sure it didn't happen before we took over that section. Maybe they’re trying to con money from us and we can’t afford to just pay — Where did the Blitzkreig Boys get alcohol from?!” she demanded, mouth dropping as the trio knocked back a shot from a hip flask. "Are you kidding me? Go take that off them, I'm not having a photo shoot with drunk Russians." 

And if Tala looked bleary-eyed in those photos, she'd lose money! Unless it made him look sleepy-eyed and sexy... No, definitely not. "What are you waiting for Hikaru?"

Hikaru wrung her hands but eventually spread them helplessly. ”You don't pay me enough to take a drink from the Blitzkrieg boys, I'm sorry Ming-Ming. I'll go do those other duties."

That was fair, Ming-Ming wasn’t sure that she, herself, was paid enough to take alcohol from the Blitzkrieg Boys, but it had to be done. Tapping on her screen, she glanced up when the photographer ordered Enrique and Julia closer only for Julia to snarl something in Spanish. Surprisingly Enrique seemed to understand enough to rattle something back at her until they were both nose to nose, simmering with fury. 

The photographer — Leon? It was probably Leon — sent Ming-Ming a questioning look. She flashed a thumbs up; of course, she wanted photos of them bickering, the more sexual tension she could create for them, the better her chances of selling merchandise. People loved a romance, even if it was fabricated. 

Realising they were now becoming the centre of attention for the wrong reasons, Enrique and Julia started to pose like consummate professionals. At least they liked the camera, which was more than she could hope for from the other teams. 

Was that another shot?!

Right, that was it, she had to do something about the Blitzkrieg Boys and their obvious alcoholic issues. 

Just as she mustered the courage to march over there — repeating over and over just what she would say to them — the door opened and the Russian midget barrelled into the room bringing a blessedly cool draft, followed by Hilary Tachibana and Kai Hiwatari. Thank god. 

“What is this? Who is that?” 

Ming-Ming veered off course, and caught Ian by the arm, cutting off his barrage of questions, as she began to lead him back to the door. 

“Kai, go next door and get ready. I want to get your team through this before they're too drunk.”

“What is this?” Kai repeated Ian's question, digging his hands deeper into his pockets as if he could burrow away. 

“Questions later, you need to — what did you do to your face?” she demanded, not even bothering with tact because who had time for that nonsense when Hilary was trying out for the role of Rudolph in a pantomime no one wanted to see!

“It’s not that bad,” Hilary muttered, hand rising to cover the neon flesh.

Bad was an understatement. “Go next door to the makeup guys and get ready.”

"Wait, am I being photographed?" 

"Yes, everyone's being photographed." Ming-Ming shoved them out of the door with a scowl. 

Ian planted his feet, his expression solidifying into mutinous. “Why?” 

“Because I want photos,” she explained, motioning to the setup. “They’re for posters and promotional material; for going on the website and other things.” Really, this is why Dickinson hired her. Bladers never thought of anything but the game. 

“Why do I have to go?”

“You’re a member of the Blitzkrieg Boys aren’t you?”

Hilary stroked her nose. “Is Kenny going to be in the Bladebreakers one?”

“Yes. Yes. Yes. Now hurry up. I’ve got a schedule to keep.” God, you’d think they didn’t understand how teams worked. Just because they might not have been in the arena didn’t mean they weren’t part of the team, didn’t mean the fans didn’t know who they were. 

She huffed out a breath, then scowled when she realised Ian hadn’t moved but was warily watching her. “What?! Why aren’t you in makeup? Do you know how long it’ll take them to transform you into a human?” She so did not have time for this. 

“But I’m not the team. I’m just computer guy.”

“You are part of the team so stop fighting with me,” she ordered and swiped at the screen of her tablet to jot down a reminder to get the Blitzkrieg Boys matching jackets. Team USA and the Bladebreakers had them, as did the new continental teams, but she couldn’t ever remember the Blitzkrieg Boys sporting a team jacket or even team colours. Tala for god knows what reason insisted on wearing orange jackets that clashed with his hair while the other two looked like lumberjacks about to venture into the great unknown. That would have to end. Uniformity was key and also great for merchandising. Team Europe would need ones too, blue with yellow perhaps? Something to get Hikaru working on. 

She stomped back into the room, bypassed the Australian Team who, with the help of Team Africa, were mocking the heat of the room and how certain teams couldn’t handle it, probably in reference to Michael who was fanning himself with a paper plate. 

Ming-Ming came to a halt in front of the Russians and nipped the flask from their grasp. 

“No,” she told them. “You’ll get this back at the end of the shoot. For the meantime, there is coffee over there and water. Sober up!”

Turning on her heel, she stalked back out of the room and headed for her office before the headache throbbing at her temples escalated to a full-on pound. Maybe she wasn’t cut out for this much stress. She was a performer which meant people told her where to stand, how to act, what to do. Now, here she was taking charge, conducting a global event on her own and she was terrified of messing it up. 

Her heels clicked over the tiles and then thudded when she reached the carpeted floor of her office. Tossing her stuff onto the leather couch, she crossed to the desk and shrugged off her jacket, rolling her shoulders and kicking off her heels. 

Better, so much better, she mused as she tiptoed over to the window and studied the city rising over the river, orange lights creating shadows in the fading blue sky. 

“So this is where you retreat to?”

Ming-Ming stiffened but plastered on a polite smile as she turned to greet her guest. “Miguel.” 

She moved to her desk and took her seat; petty but, as a performer, she was all about the illusions. 

“Ming-Ming,” he greeted. “Got some time to talk?”

“I spoke enough at the conference last night, as any other reporter knows. So why are you here and how did you get past security? You’re not a blader anymore.”

He flashed a reckless grin and she scowled. Miguel was a pain in her backside. The worst kind of journalist when it came to the BBA because he knew exactly what went on behind the scenes and had so many sources and contacts that it was almost impossible to stop him from getting the latest scoops. Ming-Ming liked controlling her leaks but Miguel tended to preempt her time and time again. Such as an exclusive with Mr Dickinson which had appeared in the morning paper. 

“Just curious about how this is going down? Thought I’d check in with the European team. Seems they’re having a bit of trouble, you know anything about this?”

“Such as?”

“They’ve only got three players and the Irish guy isn’t showing up to practice.”

“Not my problem Miguel, in fact, you’re partially to blame for that. Mathilda was supposed to join but, what was your response, oh yes, you don’t want Enrique near her.” She sent him a blade sharp smile. “I’m simply in charge of setting up the tournament and making sure it goes smoothly for the public. The teams are their own people and I cannot interfere with them. Four members were sent tickets for the tournament, I can’t be blamed if one of them wasn’t allowed to get on the plane.”

“Heard people were expecting me,” he said, seating himself down opposite her. He wore stonewashed jeans, faded and comfortable with a pale blue shirt rolled up at the sleeves. His blonde hair was a mess of tufts and his blue eyes were scrutinising the desk in a way that made her want to stand before him and spread her arms, protecting everything from his all-seeing gaze. 

She wished she still wore her jacket, at least that could have acted like a tiny bit of armour. Instead, she folded her arms and leaned back in her seat. It took all of her skill as a diplomat to deal with Miguel since he’d become a freelance reporter on all things Beyblade. “I gave no one the impression that you would be taking a place on the European team. As you have so often told me, you are an unbiased reporter of the truth in Beyblade.” Her tone was scoffing as her temper began to rise. 

“I’m an honest man, Ming-Ming.”

“Yes,” she placated, with a tight smile. Her fingers itched to grab for her tablet once more but she couldn’t while the snoopy journalist was around. He stuck his nose into everything. Ideally, he shouldn’t have been handsome, nor should he have looked like he belonged outdoors. That wasn’t how a journalist was supposed to look. But because he did, he charmed people into telling him their innermost secrets and spoiled all her surprises. How the hell had he gotten past security anyway? She was going to get Hikaru to write a strongly worded email — if she didn’t rip the staff a new one herself. 

“You’re pouting Ming-Ming. Do you not like it when I question you?”

She released a deep breath, deciding that she really should be magnanimous for the sake of the tournament. “Miguel, I don’t know what you’re insinuating or what you really believe, but I desperately want this tournament to be the best tournament ever. I have no intention of letting it become a hell on earth spectacle. I want people to watch this and become enthusiastic about the sport. This will be amazing and there are no secrets for you to unearth.”

“Then why have you banned all major news networks from filming and insisting that the only commentators be Brad Best and AJ Topper?”

“Because those contracts may bring money in, in the short run, but they cost us loyalty. I want fans to be able to see the sport anywhere without restrictions. Those cable networks demand payment to see the sport but it can be easily watched on our site for free or on any of the screens around the arena; people can even come down and fill the empty seats. I want this arena to be packed with people. Besides, who better than Brad and AJ to understand the nuances of the sport? And they’re subtitled for foreign channels. I’m trying to keep it real, not to make it bigger than it needs to be. We’re still building the WBBA up.”

There that sounded satisfactorily clear. He couldn’t possibly pick on… She watched as he wrote something in his notebook, waving it slightly. She knew that mannerism; that was his ‘I-have-something-to-say-but-I’m-unsure-how-to-broach-it’ move. 

“What about the sightings of Brooklyn and Mystel in the city?”

She blinked. “Excuse me?”

Brooklyn and Mystel were in here, in the city? Why hadn’t they told her? Neither of them had replied to her last email but she just thought they were incommunicado, out in some mountainous area so remote that it still used pigeon express (she’d been tempted to get a pigeon but Garland talked her out of that). If they were coming to the tournament, they would have told her. 

She strained to keep her expression politely interested as Miguel watched her quietly. 

“I imagine that this was a publicity stunt or someone simply imagined it. If not, then they are merely visiting the city and there is no reason why they cannot come to the tournament as fans of the sport themselves. If you’re asking me if they’re registered to participate in the tournament, I can tell you now that they are not. Miguel, you are simply trying to find something wrong, and everything here is good. I made sure of it. I will not allow anything or anyone to jeopardise this tournament. It will be amazing.”

“And Boris?”

“Boris?” she queried, then her expression crumpled and she dropped her forehead to her open palm. “Boris isn’t here, Miguel,” she groaned, lifting her gaze to beseech his. “Boris has nothing to do with WBBA. He’s in prison.”

“He’s missing.”

“Are you certain?” Stupid question. Of course, he was; he wouldn’t say it unless he knew for sure. 

“According to my sources, he was being transferred between two facilities when there was an accident and he went missing. Am I to believe that is merely a coincidence? Boris goes missing, and Brooklyn and Mystel show up here to a tournament you’re running. Sounds like a nice BEGA reunion.”

She blew out a breath and clenched her fists, barely maintaining control. “Well, here’s an idea Miguel. You go to the airport and you stake it out and if you see him, you report him immediately to the police and get him rearrested as a fugitive because I’m telling you now, Boris has nothing, and I mean absolutely nothing, to do with this tournament.” She rose to her feet. “Now, if you’re finished interviewing me, I have somewhere to be and things to be doing. Good evening, Miguel.” 

She shot to her feet and grabbing her jacket and tablet from the couch, she stalked out of her office and headed in the direction of the conference room. 

-

“Did you see how pissed off Ming-Ming was when she came back? I thought she was going to bite Enrique,” Michael said with a smirk aimed at the blonde Italian. 

“He would have enjoyed it,” Julia muttered, muffling a yawn. The evening had dragged on and on as the photographer circulated through the teams, taking individual shots, group shots, rival shots, and so many shots of Tyson and Kai that he must have filled up rolls of film on those two alone. Now Julia was exhausted and all she wanted was her bed, but the idea of getting up and dragging herself to her room seemed like an untenable task. 

She groaned as Enrique’s shoulder jolted under her cheek but she was too tired to even move, never mind scald him with a look. It was his own fault anyway. She’d called dibs on the couch and he’d thrown himself on to it, sending her a shit-eating grin, so she sat on him. Eventually, after many elbows to the stomach, they’d arranged themselves in a more comfortable, almost companionable, seated tangle on the couch. 

“Not everyone is into your brand of kink, Julia. Though if you wanted me to play—”

She made a halfhearted attempt to punch him but the angle was wrong and her arms felt like lead. All the hours she spent launching blades and posing had turned her muscles to jelly. She was so pathetic, though she took comfort in knowing the rest of her competitors were feeling the same. In the corner of the lounge, Ian slouched in an armchair, watching the DVD player propped on his knees. Hilary had retreated to bed with Emily quickly following, claiming she had some aloe vera gel. Rei and Mariah were out on a date, taking advantage of another night of delays in the tournament while Tyson and Max were huddled around Kenny looking at blade porn. Daichi occupied the other couch snoring loudly much to the amusement of Team Australia, though the fact that one of them was fiddling with a black marker concerned her a little. If they moved an inch towards Daichi, she’d say something. Daichi may have been a loud mouth chaotic whirlwind, but she kind of enjoyed his presence. 

Michael shifted in his seat and finally stopped staring down her top long enough to make eye contact. “So where’s your brother, Ralph? I thought he’d be here to battle.”

“Raul. He got a job offer before the tournament was announced, so he’s following his dream and performing magic shows for children on a cruise boat.” That still stung. It was weird being at a tournament without her brother, but he wanted to pursue a dream that didn’t involve blading competitively. She couldn’t even imagine a life that didn’t involve her blade. Oh she knew he used it in his tricks and that working with children satisfied him on a level she couldn’t understand, but still, she felt lonely without him. Especially when she was stuck on a team with a no-show and Enrique of the roaming hands. When she was more energetic and when the tournament was over, she’d consider breaking his thumb. 

"Ian, go to bed."

Julia startled at the sudden appearance of Spencer. For such a large man, he was surprisingly silent. He leaned down and shook Ian's shoulder, catching the boy's hands when the midget came up swinging. Amused, Julia glanced at Enrique with a grin but it died when she saw the sober expression he wore as he watched. Right, the Blitzkrieg Boys had one of those child horror backstories.

"What the hell Spencer?"

"You were falling asleep. It's probably time for you to go up to your room."

Ian's expression turned petulant when he looked to the bar and saw Bryan and Tala still standing beside it. "Are you going to bed?"

"Yes, Ian, very soon. Bryan wants to finish his drink."

Ian nodded, then covered his mouth as he yawned widely. Over his head, Spencer and Tala exchanged a look that lured the lanky redhead from the bar. Julia admired his approach and smiled faintly as he and Spencer exchanged another silent conversation. Maybe they had terrible childhoods and torments no one could truly understand, but from that they'd formed bonds, become brothers. It didn't make their experiences okay by any means, but it was always uplifting to see something good and true come from the wrecks of despair. 

Tala bent over and Julia tilted her head, jerking when Enrique elbowed her and sent her a smug look. She rolled her eyes. So what?! Tala had a nice backside. Most Beybladers did and she wasn't going to not look, especially when he bent over in front of her wearing really tight trousers. 

Scooping up the tablet, Tala frowned at the screen. "Hey, what's this? Are you spying on your girlfriend?" 

As he angled it so Spencer could look, pushing Ian back onto the chair when he lunged for the tablet, Julia caught sight of a video playing of a girl curled up on a couch sipping from a mug. So Ian was some kind of voyeur? 

"She was supposed to gloat. She's not gloating," Ian muttered, snatching the tablet back and allowing Spencer to escort him to the stairs, clearly ignoring the lecture about stalking he was receiving from his older brother. 

“Oi, Granger, where’s Hiwatari?” 

Tyson glanced up from Kenny’s laptop and jerked a shoulder, as he straightened with a stretch. “No clue. Probably practicing somewhere.”

“Typical, he’ll not practice with us but instead he’ll go out at night to practice. Bryan! Come on. I need sleep.”

“You need Kuznetsov to hold your hand?” Michael baited. 

“No,” Tala replied, eyes cool. “Making sure Bryan goes to bed means you don’t end up dead or at least in hospital.”

Michael sent him a dark look, but when Tala’s blood red brow rose in challenge, Michael glanced at the bar and paled. Julia followed to see Bryan’s wicked sharp grin fade into a malicious smirk before he set the glass down and headed to the elevator. Tala bowed low and mocking, then followed. 

Michael shot to his feet and stalked to the bar, as others drifted upstairs, leaving only the vaguest smattering of bladers and a group of visitors who occupied the tall table near the fire exit. A while later, Enrique finally untangled himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Julia sprawled out on the couch. She snuggled down into the cushioned surface and breathed in the sweet chemical scented fragrance - obviously some kind of fabric freshener - and closed her eyes.

She probably would have dropped off, if not for the squeak of springs and the something that nudged her foot. She pried open an eye and blearily frowned at Michael, sprawled in the chair across from her again, nursing a coke - possibly with an addition. 

“Yes.”

“So what’s the deal with you and Enrique then?”

Her and Enrique? Ha, bar Ming-Ming’s audacious and frankly obvious plan to make them her Romeo and Juliet playthings? 

“Yeah, I’ve seen the articles speculating about you two.” He leaned forward, eager for news. 

Flinging a hand over her eyes to shield them from the harsh glare as she flopped onto her back, she groaned. “Don’t be such an American Stereotype Michael, falling in with your peers, gasping for gossip and believing the hype the media sells you.” 

“You sure looked cosy on that couch together.”

She wrinkled her nose. “Because I was too tired to move, and now if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to my room to sleep.”

Not giving Michael time to respond, she grabbed her jacket and headed for the stairs, fiddling in her pocket for her key card and giving her phone another glance. 

“Raul not responding to your texts?”

She glanced up as Enrique fell into step with her, eyes heavy, blond curls flattened, with a bottle of water in one hand and the other stuck in the pocket of his jacket. He should have looked tired and worn, but instead, he just looked rumpled and handsome. It was a curse of his genes, she decided. “Hmm?”

He motioned with the bottle to her phone. “You keep checking it.”

“Oh, no, it’s not Raul.” She jerked a shoulder. “I sent a message to Eoin, I figured he could at least show his face for the photos but no response.”

Enrique heaved a sigh, expression bitterly resigned. “Of course he didn’t.”

“Yeah,” she muttered, slipping her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. “So I was thinking—” she ducked under his arm as he held the door open for her and they began to ascend the stairs “— maybe we should pay him a visit, let him know we’re not taking this attitude from him anymore. He’s part of this team, he needs to commit. We’re not going to carry him anymore, so we track him down and drag him to practice or we kick him off the team.”

Enrique curved his hand around the newel post and raked his free hand through his hair and making a small moue when he found it to not be perfectly tousled. “You’re right. I initially considered talking to Dickinson, but going to him about it feels a lot like telling tales.”

“Exactly.” She pressed her hands against the cool wall, leaning back against them as she studied the ceiling, a simple distraction from looking at the boy beside her. Not that she could hide from his cologne, warm, spicy with just a hint of heat. Expensive. Enrique smelled expensive. Another tick in the con column. “Raul suggested the same thing but if the media hears about it, it’ll be twisted, like we’re the divas who don’t want to play with the amateur, and it’s not that, we were all amateurs once.”

Enrique snorted and quirked a brow. “I was never an amateur.”

She refused to be charmed by his cockiness. “No, you came out of the womb using your umbilical cord to launch your blade. But not all of us are as special as you. We give Eoin his chance, if he squanders it…” Well, she didn’t know what they could do. While a two-man team was perfectly fine during the previous tournament where most teams relied on two players for the match, a two-man team in a tournament where three players were the very least a team could comfortably compete with would just be exhausting. Even if they managed to take down one team, they would be too wrecked to even consider another full-on match. No, whatever they did, they could not kick Eoin off the team.  

“We’ll sort that out if that happens. Worst case scenario, I force Miguel to play. He owes us,” Enrique added darkly. 

Right, the cheating incident that caused both Robert and Johnny to rage quit Beyblade. She couldn’t imagine that happening. There was a bad history there. “No, let’s find a way to make him work for us.” She tapped her fingers against the wall. “The media pays him a lot of attention. What if his diva attitude got released to the papers? That might teach him a lesson. After all, he’s an amateur, he’s not going to be used to dealing with the media the way we are.”

Enrique flashed a grin, blue eyes bright. “You’re quite devious, Julia. I like that.”

She met his grin with a subtle curve of her lips, reluctantly amused by his pleasure in her vindictiveness. Still, she pushed away from the wall and made her way up the stairs, pausing when she reached the landing to look down at him. He propped himself against bannister, expression mockingly subservient. 

“I’m going to bed. Make sure you’re up early tomorrow so we can go issue our ultimatum to our wayward teammate.”

“But of course, captain.”

She flicked him a dark look over her shoulder as she flipped her hair and stepped into the hushed silence of the corridor. 

-

Kai woke suddenly, mind alert, eyes opened and his heart beating so fast it would have escaped but for his ribs keeping it hostage. For a moment he lay in the dark, struggling to figure out where he was. Not at home in the quiet, hollow mansion with only servants and a butler for company, and there was no breathing or long sawing snores from the corner of the room, so he wasn’t at school. He reached up and rubbed his eyes, frowning at the faint glow of light from… the bathroom. He was in the hotel. Of course. The tournament, and Rei had moved into a room with Mariah, leaving him with a room to himself. 

He stretched his arm over to the bedside table and grabbed his phone. As it lit up, he squinted and read the time. 03:46. 

Better than most nights, he mused, lying back and drawing the covers up over his shoulders, protecting the bared skin from the cold. 

 A door slammed somewhere down the corridor and he jolted, then rolled his eyes as he heard Hilary’s frantic whispers and Tyson’s barely muted scolding. Then Daichi said something, the words blocked by the walls and the door slammed once again. With a shake of his head, Kai sat up and reached for Dranzer, nestled safely under his pillow and he ran a hand over his face, hoping to chase away the exhaustion threatening to crush him but he was awake and he wouldn’t sleep now. 

Rolling his neck to ease the crick, he kicked off his covers and searched the floor for a pair of socks. Tugging them on, he grabbed a vest and his bomber jacket, and shrugging them on, he headed for the door. A few seconds later, shoes on and key card in hand, with Dranzer tucked into the inside pocket of his jacket, he left his room to go get some practice and didn’t notice the strange shade of moonlight seeping through the blinds casting green lines onto the white duvet. 

[hazyheel]

Money in the Bank 2019 Review

On the pre-show, the Usos took on Daniel Bryan and Rowan, in a non-title rematch of their match a few weeks ago. I really don’t know why this was non-title, but whatever, no big deal. Before the match, The Usos called Bryan and Rowan Spongebob and Patrick, so that is how they are being written now. Bryan and Rowan worked on Jey’s leg, and pretty successfully cut off the ring from Jimmy. At one point, Rowan hit an awesome double superplex to both of the Usos. Jey nailed Bryan with a superkick, and went for a splash, but Bryan dodged and locked in a lebell lock, but Jey fought out. Both Usos tried to take down Rowan with suicide dives, but he caught both of them. They showered him with superkicks and then a double suicide dive to take him down. Bryan then went for a running knee, but at a superkick, before then hitting the double Us for the win.

Grade: B-. Decent action here, nothing too huge, but it is odd booking. Why not just do a tag match? Why must champions get pinned all the time in this company? Anyway, not the best way for the Earth’s champions to start off their reign, but that is fine. We will see a title mach between the two teams probably on Smackdown.

The Show opened up with the Women’s money in the bank Ladder Match. Competitors were Naomi (dressed as bumblebee to appeal to my geeky nature), Carmella, Nikki Cross, Mandy Rose, Ember Moon, Dana Brooke, Natalya, and Bayley. At the start of this match, I had a really big gut feeling that Mandy Rose was going to win here. I predicted Bayley, but I just couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be Mandy. Right at the bell, everyone started to brawl wildly, with Cross just beating the crap out of everyone. All competitors in the match were taking shots at each other whenever they could, and it gave the match a super chaotic feel. At one point, Carmella messed up her knee a bit, and just sorta told Rose to get away when she tried to attack. One cool spot was when Naomi jumped off several ladders that other competitors were holding, and hitting a flying ensiguri to Rose. Another cool spot saw a bunch of women trying to sandwich Naomi between two ladders, but she did a split to dodge them both. An interesting spot saw Natalya and Rose continually squash Bayley inside a ladder, and the second she got out, she at a split legged moonsault onto a ladder by Naomi. Natalya once knocked over a ladder and sent about four people into the ropes, but immediately ate an eclipse from Moon off of a ladder on the outside. Even Moon wasn’t safe, as she then took a glam slam onto a ladder. Mandy was about to climb up to the briefcase, but Carmella limped back out and the two brutally fought at ringside, with Carmella coming out on top. She was about to win when Sonya Deville ran into the ring to pull Carmella down and then spear her. Sonya then literally fireman carried Rose up the ladder to the briefcase, but Bayley ran interference and pushed them both off. Bayley then grabbed the briefcase for the win. 

After the match, Charly interviewed Bayley about her win and her future. Bayley said that she would definitely win the championship. They talked about her past with Sasha Banks in the tag division, almost as a screw you to Banks who has been out since mania.

Grade: B+. This was a really good car crash of a match. There were a whole bunch of wild spots, with my personal favorite being the eclipse from the ladder. Naomi probably was the mvp of the match, with a couple awesome spots. It was really really fun here, and the impending split of Fire and Desire was teased even more here. Rose is totally gonna stay heel while Deville will turn face. That seems pretty clear. And Bayley winning was an awesome booking decision. She really deserves it, and just needed a little nudge into the main event of the women’s division. 

Backstage, Sami Zayn tried to bug Triple H who was on the phone, and Trips was having none of it. Sami wanted to confirmed that Strowman wouldn’t interfere in his match, and apparently Strowman was banned from the building. He wanted more protection, but Trips refused.

Next match was Rey Mysterio vs. Samoa Joe for the United States Championship. Dominic was backstage, so that is fun. Joe absolutely annihilated Mysterio’s legs, but Mysterio fought back with his speed. Mysterio hit a senton early in the match and messed up Joe’s nose, which was bellding in a super cool way. But the match was over quickly after a spike rana from Mysterio, and then he got the pin. Dominic and Rey celebrated, even though Joe’s shoulder was not down.

After the match, Joe beat the crap out of Rey, planting him with two Uranagis as Dominic watched in horror. 

Grade: C. So, the last time one of their matches ended quickly was simply because Mysterio was injured. Unless they called an audible on this for a broken nose, I don’t know why this match was so short. What was there was fine, but it wasn’t a punch of huge moves, it just felt shockingly normal. I wish this was better, but I think the finish was just crap.

Backstage, Strowman was walking around looking to kill Zayn. So that is fun.

Then we had the steel cage match between Shane McMahon and the Miz. Shane desperately tried to escape right at the bell, but Miz just tore him down violently, and the two really brawled in the middle of the ring. Shane quickly went for the coast to coast, but Miz picked the leg and locked in the figure four for a submission sequence. Shane inched his way towards the door while in the hold, but Miz continued to hold on. Shane grabbed a chair while on the outside, and introduced it into the match. Miz attacked Shane with the chair, and even slammed the door on his head. Then he drilled him with a Skull Crushing Finale, but Shane got his foot on the rope, and that caused a break. The ref stopped the count, and even the commentators were confused because there should be no disqualifications. The crowd chanted bullshit, but the match went on. The two eventually fought on the top of the cage, and Miz pulled him off the top for a nasty bump. He followed it up with a splash for a near fall. Miz tried to superplex Shane into the ring as he was trying to escape, but Shane slipped out of his shirt and out of Miz’s grasp to fall to the floor and win. 

Grade: D+. Not nearly as good as their match at Wrestlemania. This had a lot of good retribution for Miz, but Shane really shouldn’t have won here. Miz could easily win and then they could have a rubber match. But this was just bad, right down to the botched foot on the rope spot, and the finish. Not good, which sucks because this feud is quite entertaining.

Backstage again, we saw that Strowman had hung Zayn but his shoes from a fence. Cool.

Into the cruiserweight division, Ariya Daivari took on Tony Nese for the Cruiserweight Championship. Daivari was playing the classic heel, using every dirty trick in the book to take on Nese. Daivari’s offense was really brutal, such as stomping the crap out of Nese’s face on the apron. Daivari was able to hit the persian splash and the hammerlock lariat, but Nese kicked out! Nese quickly fought back and hit the running nese to win.

Grade: C. Another not great match. Daivari doesn’t have a lot of dynamic offense, and he was in the lead for most of the match. It was really brutal, and I liked that. but it didn’t mesh well with Nese’s fast paced flying. Too bad, because this was the first cruiserweight match on the main pay per view card.

Backstage, Braun was addressed by Trips about attacking Sami. Braun acted like he didn’t know what was happening, but Trips just asked him to leave. Interesting.

They also announced Super Showdown, this year from Saudi Arabia, main evented by UnderTaker vs. Goldberg. Definitely a dream match, but about 20 years too late. Could be fun though. 

Then we had the first of Becky’s matches, Lacey Evans vs. Becky Lynch for the Raw Women’s Championship. Lacey came out with little money shooters, which was something, but not quite in her character I don’t think. The match started with a dynamic dropkick from Lynch, and she quickly got the advantage with a baseball slide. Evans worked over the arm of Lynch, so that it would make the disarmer much harder. Evans hit one cool looking combination, hitting a forearm, leg sweep and then a slingshot elbow drop for a near fall. The finish was a bit awkward, as Evans got a roleup on Lynch, but the ref didn’t count because he didn’t think the shoulders were down even though they were. But either way, Lynch then reversed it into a disarmer for the submission win.

Grade: B-. They actually looked pretty good together. I wasn’t sure about Evan’s wrestling ability, but she was good here. She isn’t the smoothest wrestler ever, but she certainly could be. She has potential. Lynch was great in this match as well, really selling her anger and acting like an anti hero again. I was happy to see that, and I was happy to see that outcome.

Right after that, as Lynch was trying to leave, Charlotte walked on down and said that the Smackdown Women Championship match was right then. Their match started, and it was wrestled at a much faster pace. The two traded super stiff shots in the middle of the ring, but it wasn’t long before Charlotte went for Lynch’s knee. At one point, Charlotte went for natural selection on the apron, but Becky held on to the ropes, and Charlotte crashed to the floor. As she was getting counted out by the ref, Evans ran down and hit Becky with a woman’s right. Charlotte then ran in, and after a tense rollup from Lynch that was only a near fall, Charlotte nailed a big boot for the win.

Grade: B. They really destroyed each other here. I thought that they beat the crap out of each other, and this wasn’t as one sided as I thought it might be. There was plenty of back and forth action from them, and I thought that the finish, while not something I agreed with, was well done. Good stuff to both ladies.

After the match, Lynch beat the ever living crap out of Evans, until the heels teamed up on Lynch and beat her down. As they were attacking, Bayley ran down with her new briefcase and started to fight off the bad guys. Charlotte nearly stood tall, but Bayley dodged a spear from her and Charlotte went straight into the turnbuckle. Bayley then cashed in, her Money in the Bank contract, and the match was underway.

Bayley nailed Charlotte with an elbow drop and actually won! I am shocked. I didn’t think that they would do the same finish as last year, but alright. I wish that Bayley would have held the briefcase for just a while longer, because I think that tension is what I really love about this stipulation. But I am also okay with Bayley being champion.

Backstage, Roman was walking around, and Elias just murdered him with a guitar to the back. That was a rough shot. Elias came out to ringside, and played on an electric guitar. Of course he got a bunch of heat by shitting on the city. Then he said that he loved none of them. Elias tried to leave, but Reign’s music hit and Roman flew out of the curtain with a superman punch. He rolled Elias into the ring and hit a spear for the win.

Grade: C+. Understand that I am grading this as a segment and not a match. The match was short and one move, but the segment was simple. Heel attacks, cuts a promo being a douche, and then gets beaten up by the guy he attacked. Roman sold that guitar shot for like 8 minutes too, so it makes sense that he was able to come out. That was a cool superman punch too, best I’ve ever seen. But it still robbed us of a match, so I gotta give it a negative grade. Kills me to say it, cuz I really liked this. 

And then we had AJ Styles vs. Seth Rollins for the Universal Championship. The two continuously traded both high impact moves and submissions, and it was going at a fast pace from the start. At one point, Styles went for a piledriver on the apron (very indy), but Rollins flipped out of it, only for Styles to hit a sliding knee anyway. Styles even countered a ripcord knee into a fireman’s slam onto the knee. Rollins hit a vicious frog splash for a near fall. Rollins hit an awesome reverse superplex into a reverse DDT for a near fall. At one point, Styles reversed a stomp into a calf crusher, for a submission sequence that ended in a stiff kick to the face from Rollins. Another point saw Styles counter the curb stomp into a styles clash, but Rollins still kicked out! Rollins fought back into it, and nailed a ripcord knee, superkick followed by a curb stomp for the win.

After the match, Styles was going to walk away, but came back into the ring. And he shook Rollins hand. No heel turn... yet.

Grade: A. Wow, this was a great match. They tore into each other, they went super fast, and they sold their asses off to show that they really are the best two guys in WWE. I think that this feud isn’t over quite yet, but I am okay with waiting a while for them to continue. They are awesome together, and I hope to see this more.

Then the Lucha House Party Came out, and they said that they were gonna have a party! Woo Hoo, Lars Sullivan came out and murdered all of them. He actually headbutt Kalisto so hard that he started bleeding, so I have reason to be worried about Kalisto.

Grade: B+. Monster hits little people. I like that. And this was really violent too, so I really like that. 

Next match was Kofi Kingston vs. Kevin Owens for the WWE Championship. The two came at each other with such anger in their eyes that you’d think they’ve been feuding for years. Early on, Kofi countered an Irish Whip into the stairs by jumping up to the top rope and hitting a double axe handle to the floor. At one point, Owens through Kofi into the post on the apron, and followed it up with a splash to the floor. At another, Kofi hit a brutal standing double stomp on the apron, and it made me wince. At one point, Kofi absolutely destroyed Owens with elbows to the back of the head, but Owens got free and hit a pop up powerbomb for only two. Kofi then hit the trouble in paradise, but the momentum sent him out of the ring. Owens was able to roll back into the ring, and then hit the stunner, but Kofi grabbed the rope. Owens then took Kofi’s shoes off for some reason, and then he went for a swanton, but Owens got the knees up. Kofi then hit the trouble in paradise for the win, even without shoes. 

Grade: B+. Fun match, and I loved the anger from both guys. They really went out there to beat each other down, and that really happened. We saw the old sadistic side of Owens, and that was really awesome. Kofi’s reign hasn’t ended yet, and I am all the happier for it. 

Before the main event, they talked about Super Showdown, and announced two more matches: Triple H vs. Randy Orton and Bobby Lashley vs. Braun Strowman. Two matches that sound pretty boring. Maybe Trips and Orton will be good though.

And finally, the men’s money in the bank ladder match: Baron Corbin, Finn Balor, Ricochet, Andrade, Ali, Drew McIntyre, and Randy Orton. On commentary, Cole talked about how someone attacked Sami Zayn, and Corey talks about how it was definitely Strowman. Saxton said that they didn’t see it, to which Corey replied, “You don’t see the wind but it is there.” This guy is hysterical. They all started brawling early on in classic multi man fashion. Orton literally back body dropped three people onto the announce table. I like to imagine that this was the most extreme spot he could think of in a ladder match. Orton started to climb to the briefcase, but Andrade springboard dropkicked the ladder to stop him. Corbin and McIntyre tried to work together throughout the match, but there were too many flippy people to do that. However, they were able to take out Orton with a massive claymore. At one point, Andrade sunset flip powerbombed Finn Balor off of a ladder, into a ladder suspended between the ladder and the rope. Problem was the when Andrade hit the ladder, it collapsed a bit and landed on a slant, making it a terrible angle when Balor landed. At anther point, Ali nailed Andrade with a spanish fly off the top of a ladder. Ali then got planted through the announce table by Corbin, and the crowd chanted “You still suck.” Corbin then attacked McIntyre on the outside, and then chokeslamed Balor onto the side of a ladder. Ricochet tried to take him out with a suicide dive, but Corbin caught him in a deep six. So, in revenge, McIntyre hit him with a claymore to finally take Corbin down. McIntyre procedded to hit a deadlift vertical suplex onto a prone ladder, which I really didn’t get because he was basically murdered during this match and was definitely not a threat. Ricochet tried to go up to grab the briefcase, but McIntyre pulled him down and just chucked him over the top rope and through a ladder bridged between the ring and announce table. When McIntyre tried to go up, Orton RKO’d him. Ali pulled Corbin off the ladder, and was about to grab the briefcase, but then Brock Lesnar just ran out out of nowhere and grabbed the briefcase for the win. What the fuck?

Grade: A-. So, I don’t know why the hell Lesnar was in the match, and why he was allowed to hide in the back and then come out and win. But the rest of the match was great, so I’ll focus on that, because the finish pissed me right off. The match was full of spots, and it featured a lot of story trops that I enjoy in these huge multi man matches. Corbin and McIntyre were the heel team that split up, Orton was the heel that was super opportunistic, Ricochet and Balor played the babyfaces that get the shit beaten out of them, while Ali was the underdog who felt like he had a chance. Andrade felt a lot like a desperate heel during this match, which was also good. They destroyed themselves and put on a hell of a match, really only a bit better then the ladies. If I could change something, obviously the finish, but also I would’ve switched the rolls of Ricochet and Balor, because Balor looked pretty weak for an Intercontinental Champion. 

Overall Grade: B-

Predictions Record: 6/11

Pros: Women’s MITB; SD women’s Championship; MITB cash-in; Universal Championship; WWE Championship; Sullivan beat down; Men’s MITB; neither Ricochet nor Ali died

Cons: United States Championship; Steel cage; Cruiserweight Championship; Men’s MITB finish; Finn Balor may have died; Zelina Vega lost her last name (pour one out)

[kinetic-elaboration]

October 1: No Power Night

Good news is that I did some writing today--a bunch actually! Over 1300 words! Bad news is that there are some REALLY awkward bits and I want to go over them and try to polish them up but I don’t have time to do that or almost anything else because my power’s getting shut off for maintenance work in about an hour and I still need to eat dinner. Back to the good news: I have the best possible chance of going to sleep early after a relaxing and distraction-free 60-90 minutes of reading, a dream my internet addiction has long made it impossible for me to realize.

Here’s a short excerpt from the bit I think is the roughest so that when I make hopefully really effective changes to it, I’ll still have some record of how it used to be. (From the Briller roommates fic).

*

When he doesn't say anything more for a long time, Miller asks, "What happened to the chair?"

Bryan shrugs. He stands up straight again but doesn't step away. They are so close that their arms brush together, and the attic starts to feel smaller than it is. The sunlight burnishes the wood with rich earth tones.

"Threw it out," Bryan says. "It was a piece of junk."

"This desk definitely isn't junk, though,” Miller reminds him, fast, hoping to stave off the sadness he can hear in Bryan’s voice, the tight, clipped, words he’s trying not to say. Then he turns back to the desk again—partly to give Bryan some small version of privacy, and partly because he can’t help it.

He can feel Bryan watching him.

"Then let's bring it downstairs."

"You want to put it in one of the first-floor rooms?"

"No." Bryan bumps his arm against Miller's arm. He sounds like he's biting back a smile, like he thinks Miller's question is stupid, but endearingly so. "We'll bring it down to your floor. You use it."

"No. Seriously. I have no use for this—" He gestures vaguely with one hand. Words escape him, so he settles for: "It's too nice."

"And you don't deserve nice things for some reason? Look—I trust you with it. Okay? And you're right, it is nice, and it should be used for something. Even just to sit around and look nice and make you happy."

There's something warm and pleasant, not unlike the sun as it shines on his hand and the side of his face, in the thought that Bryan just wants him to be happy.

[spaceorphan18]

Changed For the Better 9 [Klaine Advent Day 9]

Rating: S for Shenanigans Word Count: 1727 Summary: AU - Kurt’s a struggling actor living in New York, and is currently working on a Made-for-TV movie starring Cooper Anderson.

A/N: Written for Klaine Advent Day 9: Inch

Thanks @snarkyhag for taking a look at this <3 

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Part 8]

//

Changed for the Better - Part 9/24: The Dog Days are Over

Elliott fiddled with the key, the damn thing just wouldn’t go into the lock.  Kurt had insisted the cheap place down the street would be fine making a key for him, but Elliott wondered if it was time to just ask the landlord to give him one.  As he jiggled with it, someone joined him in the hallway - a strangely dressed man in a brightly colored plaid blazer and matching bowtie, who had some sort of package in his hands.  Someone who stopped at the door and watched him curiously as he struggled with the lock.  

“Can I help you?” Elliott was more irritated at the lock than at the man, but the frustration came out nonetheless.  

“I’m here for Kurt Hummel?”  

“He’s not back until tomorrow.”  Elliot finally managed to get the lock.  The door swung open unexpectedly, causing Elliott to fall forward, and in the process he knocked over the small end table.  A ceramic bowl that held their keys as well as a picture of he and Kurt, arms around each other in a selfie pose that they had taken celebrating their first week as roommates smashed to the floor.  Damn it, Kurt would be pissed when he got back.  

Elliott began picking up pieces of the bowl as the man stepped in and picked up the photo, and stared at it without speaking.  

“Do you want me to leave a message?” Elliott asked, too busy inspecting the broken pieces of the bowl to really pay attention to the man.  

“I’m Blaine Anderson,” the man said.  

“Ah, Cooper’s brother,” Elliott said.  The bowl was only in four parts.  That was glueable, right?  

“You know who I am?” Blaine placed the photo back on the stand and frowned.  

“Well, yeah, I’m--”

“I know who you are,” Blaine sharpley interrupted him.  “Kurt said he’d be home today.”  

Elliott shrugged.  “I’m meeting him at the airport tomorrow morning.  That’s all I know.”

“Oh.”  Blaine’s eyes shifted from the photo to the package in his hands.  He looked sad.  “Well, this is the final script for the play he’s auditioning for.  If you could give it to him, I’d appreciate it.”  

“Yeah, no problem.”  

Blaine awkwardly placed the package in Elliott’s hands, turned to leave, then turned back as if he had something to day.  

“Yes?” Elliott asked after a moment.  

Blaine stepped in close so he was an inch or so away from Elliott’s face.  “Just...Kurt is a wonderful, magical creature who should be treated with the adoration he deserves,” Blaine said, pointing a finger into Elliott’s chest.  

“Okay?”  Elliott wasn’t sure where Blaine was going with it.  

“Don’t forget that,” Blaine added, digging in his finger a little harder.  

“Sure,” Elliott took a step back.  Kurt’s friends were confusing.  

Blaine looked like he wanted to say more, but spun on his heel and left.  

Well, he was definitely Cooper Anderson’s brother, Elliott thought.  

///

Elliott mostly forgot about the encounter until Kurt was back in the apartment.  

“Is this a package for me?” Kurt asked, dropping his luggage to excitedly open it up.  

“Yeah, that’s some script for a play?” Elliott said.  “Cooper Anderson’s brother dropped it off himself.”

Kurt froze, his eyes widened with delight.  “Really?”

“Yeah, he’s a little...odd.”  

Kurt was too busy staring at the script in his hands adoringly to notice he had said anything.  “I should call him…” his said dreamily.  

“I thought you said the first thing you were going to do when you got back was deal with our unwanted house guest…”

“Oh, Adam.”  Talk about throwing cold water on top of Kurt’s head.  “Right.”  

///

“I’ll always love you.”  The words echoed hung in the air, even after Adam had closed the door to the apartment.  

Kurt was on the couch, still a little in shock by their conversation.  Still a little overwhelmed by the feelings he was, or maybe wasn’t having.  

I will always love you.  The last thing Adam had said as he got up to leave.  Kurt had told him was over, really over this time.  That time in Ohio had cleared his head.  Kurt hadn’t wanted a revival of that sad drama, he realized.  He wanted closure.  He wanted to say goodbye.  Officially.  And he had.  

And then Adam had said… that.  

But you won’t always love me, Kurt thought, slightly annoyed now that he was alone and thinking about it.  The whole point of you leaving in the first place was that you didn’t love me enough.  Adam always did want to have the last word, have the final thought.  But no -- Kurt did now.  

You won’t always love me, and I don’t think I love you.  Not anymore.  

Goodbye, Adam.

For the first time since the whole drama had happened, Kurt felt like he was finally moving on.  

///

“I need to do something that’s really me,” Kurt said to Rachel as they were walking to brunch the next day.  “I need to do something that shows them just how much I can do.  I know I’ve got it in me, Rach.  And I’m ready.”

“What happened to you in Ohio?” Rachel teased.  “You seem more confident - more inspired.”  

“I don’t know, nothing specific really,” Kurt said.  “It’s more like a feeling.  Maybe finally closing one door is letting another one open.”

Rachel eyed him suspiciously.  “Kurt Hummel, did you finally put the past behind you?”  

“Maybe I finally just have a reason to be looking to the future,” Kurt said with a smile.  “And I guess I feel like maybe I can show the rest of the world who I really am.”

“Oh! Kurt, I have the perfect song for you to do at the audition!”

///

Kurt didn’t see Blaine before the audition.  A week had passed since he had returned from Ohio.  He had texted Blaine nearly every day - even if it was about more superficial things.  But he was as anxious to see Blaine as he was to do the audition.  Blaine was, however, understandably busy with getting the show up and running.  So when his audition slot had come up, seeing Blaine in the audience was the first time they had been in the same room since he returned.  

Also, he learned, in the audience was Artie Abrams - the director of the show, Trent - Blaine’s friend and former classmate who had written the original script, and June Dolloway herself.  Definitely no pressure there.  

He performed ‘Not the Boy Next Door’ from The Boy From Oz - gold lame pants and all - pulled out all the stops.  He dazzled, he flirted, he shook his hips, and he hit that run up the scale like he had never done before.  It may have been the greatest performance he ever gave.   He couldn’t read his audience - except for Blaine, who stood and clapped and grinned proudly.  

It never occurred to him that the performance would be too much.  

///

On the way out of the theater, he bumped into Sam and Mercedes heading in.  

“Well, you told Rachel, who told Mercedes, who told me that they need more guys for this thing,” Sam explained.  “And, well, I need a job, and Mercedes told me I have a great voice.  So why not?  I can do a little swaying in the back, maybe show everyone a special dance move or two.”  

Sam rolled his hips, making Mercedes blush.  Kurt was less concerned about Sam’s audition than he was about the two of them attempting a discreet relationship.  

“So, uh, you guys are spending more time together since karaoke night?” Kurt asked.  

Mercedes put her head in her hand.  Sam looked away, pretending the question wasn’t asked.   They then looked at each other and giggled.  

Kurt was happy for them.  

///

Blaine asked Kurt to coffee three days later.  

As they sat down for coffee, Kurt found that he couldn’t keep his eyes off Blaine.  Was it just him, or had Blaine managed to grow more handsome over the past three weeks?

Which made Blaine’s distance feel even more alarming.  

“Kurt, I need to talk to you about your audition.”

Kurt felt a familiar turn in his stomach.  “You guys hated it.”

“No, no, no,” Blaine said, almost too quickly.  “ I mean, personally, I don’t know if I’ve ever seen someone who radiates on stage like you do.”  

A kind thing to say but there was a but.  There was always a but...

“But,” Blaine said.  “Others may not have felt the same way.”  

“Do you mind if I ask - what was it about my audition?  I mean, I put all of myself out there.”  

“I know, and that’s recognized, I promise.  But, Kurt - this is a musical about a boarding school, and about how we all kind of work as one big team.  It doesn’t necessarily work if…”

“Someone pulls all the focus?”  

Blaine played with his coffee cup.  He didn’t have to say anything to let Kurt know he was right.  

Kurt deflated.  “Of course…So, am I just doo-wopping behind you, or do they not want me in it at all?”

“Kurt,” Blaine reached out, placed a friendly hand on his arm.  “Well, it was two against two, because quite frankly Trent loved you, too.  So we talked to June and Artie and they’ve agreed to give you the part of Bryan’s, that’s my part, best friend Jack.  He’s only in a couple of scenes, but he has an entire song, and is really pretty memorable if you ask me.”  

Kurt felt a little conflicted.  His life was always two steps forward, one step back.  Still… a show was a show.  At least he wasn’t just a nameless person in the chorus.  And Blaine had went to bat for him.  That had meant something.

“So,” Blaine said slowly.  “Did you…”  Blaine looked as though he wanted to say something, but couldn’t quite bring himself to do so.  

“Yes?”

“Did you want to hear about the changes June wanted make to the script?”

“Oh,” that wasn’t what Kurt had expected.  “Sure, do tell.”  

They slipped easily into conversation, like old friends catching up, talking about anything and everything.  Except, Kurt realized later, about Adam.  Kurt hadn’t even thought of bringing him up, and Blaine never asked.  Maybe that was one conversation they didn’t need to have…

[searchingthedepths]

The Day We First Met

As I said once before, this blog uses a combination of literature, art, and audio to tell its story. What I neglected to say was that it wouldn’t necessarily be in sequential order. This event has happened long before the blog story begins, as Bella is still human here, hasn’t become a searcher yet like in our brief introduction. I’ll be dropping little “chapters” like this from time to time to give you something to pick at. ~Kat Alyst

From the Desk of F.K.E.

“So, what’s your story?”

A young lady sat cross-legged on the Prophet’s weathered desk. She’d taken off her worn newsboy cap and laid it in her lap. Gently she tried to fix her scruffy hair with her hand, but it wouldn’t suffice without a brush. The ink-swallowed man in suspenders that sat in the chair beside her stared at the floor. The mask on his face slipped a little. It was unlike him to not immediately fix it.

“My dear sheep, I’m afraid there’s not much else to say. You claim you heard the tapes that reside on this level. Those hold a majority of my tale, to go any further would be…”

Sammy tapered off into the silence. The girl on the desk hopped down from her spot and hugged him tightly. His ink was sticky, and there was no doubt that it was staining her already filthy clothes, but she didn’t mind. There wasn’t a whole lot she could do, she couldn’t begin to imagine the horrors this studio had faced all that time ago. But that begged the question, why was it all still here? Could it be fixed?

It took Sammy a moment to react. His body stiffened in the girl’s arms, and his heart beat was slow and groggy. He gave her a light tap on the back before removing her from his body.

“I’d advise against that dear sheep. Believe me, you don’t want this stuff on you any more than it already is,” he said.

She lowered her head, glancing over her body. It had already wrecked her pants while searching for a way out, everything was flecked with black. Her left hand had the tiniest bit on it, and even though much time had passed, it was still wet. It was as though the ink could never dry. She looked up at the man and held his shoulder.

“How do I get you out of this?”

“I beg your pardon?” Sammy replied.

“How do I get you out of this?” she said again. There was a determined glow in her eyes, it was as bright as the red pigment that stained the top of her apron. Sammy leaned backwards, her grip still tightly held his shoulder. What little of his face was visible showed bewilderment and confusion.

“Why…why would you want to? I-I don’t understand, what is the meaning of this?” said Sammy.

The girl squeezed his shoulder. “There’s a human underneath all of this. I saw those creatures on the way in. They’re the same as you, aren’t they?”

Sammy hesitated to respond. “Yes, yes they are. But humanity means nothing down here.”

“Well lucky for you, I don’t belong down here. I’m stuck here, there’s no way for me to get out, or any of you for that matter, unless that old man finds what you need him to find. If I’m gonna be trapped, I may as well be useful and give you a hand,” she said. She let go of his shoulder, placing it on her hip.

“My sheep, you’re making a grave mistake. There is no saving us, only the Lord can set us free, and that will only happen if we follow his orders,” Sammy said.

“Do you really believe that?” she retorted.

He couldn’t look her in the eyes.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought. Look Prophet, I’ve spent most of my life cooped up and wings clipped. This isn’t anything new to me. We both want to pursue new dreams, and we can’t do that unless we get out of this dump. So, if there’s any way I can play ‘divine intervention’ and help your guy get us out of here, I’d love to try it,” she said. She looked rather serious.

 Under the ink, Sammy’s eyebrow was raised. She didn’t really think she was capable of eliminating a demonic curse, did she? But no, he could tell she was intent on trying. Sammy mulled over the options, stroking his chin as he stared at the floor. He knew there was no hope of getting out, and that made the reality of two humans being down here all the worse. There may’ve been a lot of bacon soup before, but Henry had been pounding it in his efforts to stay alive, there wouldn’t be enough to sustain them both. It had already been several days since the girl had fallen here, and he could clearly see the paleness in her face. She looked sickly. It was only a matter of time before either of them died, and while he knew his Lord’s plans would guarantee that Henry survived to a point, he wasn’t certain the same would be allowed for an accidental trespasser. There was no winning. He’d had to help sacrifice so many employees over the years, he didn’t want his conscience stained with another death, especially someone so young. But the only alternative, it was equally extreme. He would never wish the hell he’d be cast in on anyone, no one deserved to live undead. But what choice did he have? Either swallow her or leave her to rot. It wasn’t fair, it just wasn’t fair.

Of course, his Lord would always be happy to have a little more labor on the premises…No Lawrence, don’t think like that, that’s what got you into this mess. Still, how could he justify it? Truth was he couldn’t. He stared at his hands, entranced, his mind blurred. What to do, what to do. There’s got to be something, I can’t go through this again. Something within the bitter man had softened. He clenched his left hand into a fist, squeezing tightly, barely feeling anything. Perhaps, just perhaps…that might just work.

              Sammy rose from the chair and knelt beside the desk. He opened one of the drawers to reveal a can of soup, the last one in the area. He raised his head to look at the girl. It was noticeable that she was lost in thought as well. But as quickly as it came, the awkward silence was broken by her cough. It was hoarse and stuffy, she pounded her fist against her chest a few times to try and silence it. Sammy glanced at his nubby feet, taking a deep breath before he stood up. He was a rather tall up close. As she slid off the desk, she only came up to just below his shoulders. He placed a hand behind her back and lead her out of his crumbling office, navigating his way through the music department. He sighed, something broken and deflated. The girl looked up at him in curiosity, unsure of what to expect.

            Sammy reached into his pocket and pulled out a keyring. He went up to one of the thousands of locked doors and opened it, revealing a tiny kitchenette that hadn’t been used in quite some time. There was a small couch and a few chairs around a table. He opened a cabinet that was filled to the brim with mismatched mugs, bent spoons, and a few bowls. Could it have been this was a break room at one point? Sammy sat his guest down on the couch and got to work and heating the soup on a barely functional stovetop, while he searched for something else in a smaller cabinet. He pulled out a small box and gave it a sniff.

            “Still good. Now there’s a surprise.”

            The girl watched him intently as he worked. His movements were rhythmic, each step methodical and practiced, like clockwork. A pinch of this, a little of that, a stir here, a tap on the rim. It was mesmerizing. He returned to the table moments later, a bowl of soup in one hand, a cup of tea in the other. He motioned for her to join him, both sitting in chairs. He pushes the soup to her spot.

            “Eat up, there may not be anything else for a while,” he said.

            “T-thank you sir, you’re very kind,” she replied quietly. She took a spoonful and gently blew on it before taking a bite. It was definitely bacon, no doubt about it. The stuff was horribly old, she dared not ask the expiration date, but it wasn’t so bad. Heck, a little salt and a few spices would probably do wonders for it. She slowly worked her way through the bowl, leaving nothing untouched.

            Sammy watched as he sipped his tea. He hadn’t thought to make it in a while, but even though he required no food or drink to fuel him, the tea on his throat was soothing. Under the mask, his smile was hidden. That felt much better. He moved a hand over his diaphragm. The last time he’d had this peppermint brew, gosh, how long ago was it? Maybe five years after Henry had left? All a part of his personal rituals, something he’d drink before warming up to sing. Even now he could still remember the words, fidgeting his fingers as though her were playing the old chords on his keyboard. He lost himself for a moment, humming under his breath. It wasn’t until he heard the spoon clink in the empty bowl that he realized she was smiling at him.

            The girl chuckled. “I’d love to hear the full piece one day. You have a lovely voice.”

            Sammy turned away, slightly embarrassed. “You’re very kind little lamb. But I’m afraid that particular composition remains unfinished. It was the last one I worked on before well…before my assignments were changed.”

            “That’s a shame, it sounds so beautiful. If I could make anything half as good as that, I’d be rich.” She laughed, a tinkly sort of sound, like a little fairy.

            Sammy smirked a little. “You flatter me. I dedicated my entire life to my music before all of this happened. Nothing could be less than perfect.”

            “Must be nice getting to work on your craft like that. It’s rare I run into another artist with that philosophy.”

            He took another sip of tea. “Oh really now? What field do you work in?”

            “Well up until recently, I was a printer. Worked in a shop not too far from here. But that’s all in the past now, they laid me off the day before I wound up here.”

            “Now why’s that? You seem perfectly capable to me.”

            The girl lowered her head. “They found me out. They learned I was a woman.”

            The prophet stiffened, somewhat confused. “I don’t follow.”

“When I applied for the job, I sent in my resume under the name Bryan Ewe. Every shop I’d tried to work at before denied me, wouldn’t even consider hiring a woman. I kept up the act for a long time, wore fake beards, created a whole identity for myself. I was determined to follow my dreams, work my way up to be an illustrator, run my own plates and sell them. But I didn’t even come close,” She buried her face in her hands, “What the hell was I thinking? There was no way I was ever going to make it as an artist. No one ever believed in my dream.”

A small puddle of ink started rising through the floorboards. The prophet noticed, but he chose to keep quiet. He had to be careful.

“Come now, there had to be someone. Didn’t you believe in your own ambitions?”

“Yes, for a long time I did. Maybe that was a lie, there was one other person who believed. My father…god rest his soul.”

The puddle retreated a little from under her feet.

Sammy felt like he was hit in the chest. “I’m….I’m so sorry.”

“It’s fine. It’s not like anything could’ve been done to save him,” She leans back in her chair, gingerly holding her hat over her heart, “I’ve been alone in this world ever since. Nothing has made any sense, even less so here.”

She turned away, but Sammy could very clearly see the tears that were sliding down her cheek, gently washing over her freckles. The puddle below her dissipated completely. The ink knew when to back off thankfully.

She’s got nothing left. No wonder she’s trying to help us. Sammy wasn’t one for religion before the incident, but he had a friend in the studio who was once. She’d always spoken to him about feeling ‘renewed’ after returning home from church. Perhaps it may be best if he called her in a little later, she would know how to deal with emotions better than himself. He stroked his chin for a moment. A question had come to mind.

“You said you pretended to be a man named Bryan. What’s your real name?”

“Bella. Isabella Ewe,” She wiped the tears from her eyes, “And since you never formally introduced yourself, am I right to assume that you’re Mr. Lawrence?”

“Sammy, if you please.” He nodded

“Sammy, alright, I can remember that. So, who are they?”

“They?”

Bella pointed at the door. There was a trio of searchers peeking passed the doorframe. They slinked backwards upon being noticed, shy and petrified no doubt. But Sammy didn’t raise his voice. He didn’t get angry, he didn’t holler, he didn’t start cackling evilly. No, instead he did something far less expected.

He removed his mask.

“They’re my coworkers.”

[forkanna]

NOTICE: Scott Pilgrim and related characters are ©Bryan Lee O'Malley. Story/plot content is © me!

Based mostly off the graphic novels but some stuff from the movie and game. There are other Kim/Knives fics but I haven't read them; I wanted to come at this completely based on the source material. Any similarities to those fics is purely coincidental.

Rated M for adult topics (including one brief not-quite-explicit flashback with a 17-year-old), and some sexual content in later chapters. You know, the L word. No, not "lesbian" — the OTHER L word: lesbians.

"... It's something else" - flyafar

I know this one kind of comes from nowhere, but I've actually been wanting to do something in the Pilgrimverse for a long time. Ever since I first saw the movie in theaters. Then a couple of weeks back, I was playing through the game again out of boredom (trying to get some elusive achievements) and I just felt this strong impulse to give Kim and Knives the ending they deserved.

If you haven't read the comics but HAVE seen the movie, I wouldn't be surprised if you view this as a crackship. It still kind of is in the comics to be honest! But don't worry, you don't have to read them to enjoy this fic; I'll cover what happened in later chapters. Plus a lot of little surprises that make up my take on them.

Hope you like this one! It's about medium-length for me, definitely no oneshot but in total it's not even as long as "Bind Us" is so far. And it's only getting started!

Jessex

[AO3 LINK]

CHAPTER ONE

And so, as our band of ragtag heroes exited from the Chaos Theater, Scott Pilgrim was reunited with his great love - well, other than himself. He and Ramona Flowers, the random American rollerblading groupie, went prancing off into Subspace together. Happily fucking ever after.

Both "fucking happily" and "happily fucking", to be honest.

What did I get? The same thing as usual. Nothing. Bitterness and emptiness. Well, I guess that's not completely accurate: Scott said he was sorry. Too little, too late, but hey… at least he tried. A for Effort. He gets Ramona, Stephen gets my old roommate, Wallace gets just about every piece of hot gay ass in Toronto besides Joseph and Stephen. Knives and Young Neil get each other, sort of, kind of. I guess. Who cares? And I'm left with a big bag of nothing.

I'm not Scott, obviously. I'm Kim. I play drums. That's all the introduction you get.

Fine, I'll be nice. You came here for this story, so I'll tell you the rest of the history first. Kim Pine. Red hair and freckles, pointless existence. Born and raised in Ontario, though I've skipped from town to town. Scorpio. My turn-ons are death and destruction, and long walks on the beach.

If you don't know any of the history, then you're probably better off. It's a long, sad story full of sighs and facepalms. But some of you probably have that morbid curiosity you can't shake, so unless you already know this and can skip it, or just care even less than me, here we go: I used to play drums for Sex Bob-omb with Scott and Stephen. Also of importance is the fact that Scott left a string of broken hearts in his wake a kilometer and a half long, with mine thrown in there somewhere. Just because he and I patched it up enough to be civil didn't mean we were "all good", but I sure as fuck wasn't going to be the one to explain it to the manchild. Anyway, we all thought for sure that Knives and Ramona were just going to be his latest casualties, or one of them would Yoko him into quitting the band. And we were right about that last part; the band fell apart, but at least not in a literal sense like The Clash At Demonhead, when their bassist was headbutted into coins and the drummer lost her cybernetic arm before disappearing completely. Not too long after the big showdown with Gideon at the Chaos, Ramona and Scott poofed into the ether and haven't been heard from since.

There, happy?

Anyway, this takes place a year after all that went down.

                                                            ~ o ~

I don't even know why I was still in Toronto. After Sex Bob-omb exploded and Shatter Band shattered, there really wasn't much else for me to do. Boredom, maybe. At least Stephen was still around, making music with his boyfriend, but they didn't seem to need my drums anymore. Dynamite Headdy sounds better without me. Sure, there are days I still miss Sex Bob-omb. Not so much Shatter Band, which stank on ice. But the Bob-omb had potential, we just had Scott's lack of focus holding us back, and Stephen's too-much-focus sucking all the fun out of everything. So maybe, over the course of this paragraph, I talked myself out of missing either of those bands.

Anyway. Toronto, Delicious Cup.

Nobody wants to hear a drummer all by themselves. So I started doing this thing with Steph Nordegraf after she moved back to Toronto. Stephen introduced us; I'd met her through her brother Neil before though. It's… experimental and stupid, and I hate it. I'm on bongos while she sings and plays the zither. We sound like new age music being recorded by kindergartner, which is why we couldn't book any real coffee houses, like Second Cup or Aroma; only knockoffs like that one.

That's what we were doing in Delicious Cup the day my life stopped being pointless and colourless. So colourless that I didn't even fully realise it was summer until I saw Knives Chau walk in.

"What are you doing?" Steph hissed at me. Didn't even notice my bongos were on the floor until that point.

"What?"

"You went totally dead, like some kind of locust."

"Do locusts go dead? Is that their thing?"

"Just…" She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We'll take five."

Frowning up at her, I slipped my bongos into the backpack I normally kept them in. "Chill, Nordegraf. You're going to develop kidney stones."

Okay, so that wasn't really her fault; I was being my usual salty self to cover for the fact that I fucked up our set. Not that anyone in the coffee house was paying the slightest attention to the two weirdos who thought they were musicians; they were all chatting, drinking, and reading through magazines. When one of our ten-minute epics ended, one polite older woman clapped. That was it. We might as well have been ghosts for all the notice we got coming and going.

As I ditched her with the equipment and went up to the counter, slipping in behind Knives in line, I tried not to think too much. Sure, we had a thing once… it's barely worth mentioning. But yeah, it was oddly nice to see a familiar face. Especially with Scott and Ramona off in the ether somewhere.

She looked good. At least, I thought so; she stopped doing that thing where she dyed part of her hair, which I always thought was just a way to compete for Pilgrim's attention, anyway. And a year of college really seemed to have given her something… not that I could tell what it was, but something more. Her adorable face was turned mostly away from me, so I couldn't tell much else. Just that she was wearing clothes a little more grown up than when I last saw her, and that she didn't seem as nervously-excited. That's a good thing: I hate excitable people.

"Green milktea?" she asked when she got up to the counter.

"What… is that?" Julie asked her. "This is a coffee house, not a tea house." Typical Julie. Yeah, I knew the barista, but we don't really talk. She's even more unpleasant than I am.

"Oh… but you have green tea and chai tea on the menu. Right there."

Julie didn't even bother to look over her shoulder. "I think I would know the menu better than you would."

"But I'm serious, it's right-"

"Do you have a problem with the way this business operates? Are you blind or something?"

"No, I'm not blind," Knives said, slowly sounding a little less sure of herself. "My eyes work fine."

"Then why can't you read my lips? No. Milk. Tea."

This was going nowhere. Even though this wasn't how I wanted to reinitiate contact with either of them again, I strode up to the counter and stood next to Knives.

"If you have milk, and you have tea, you can make her fucking milktea. Besides, you know her, so stop being such a rotting tampon."

"What?" Knives breathed, taking an instinctive step away — probably just from my tone.

"Excuse me, carrot top?" Julie snapped. "You don't tell me how to-"

"And you don't own this café, Powers, even if you do seem to work in all of them. Just make the drink. I'll cover whatever extra you want to charge." Digging into my pocket for my meager amount of money that I own, I produced a couple of toonies. "Make it. Now."

"This isn't even enough for a normal cappuccino, or whatever a 'milktea' is supposed to be."

"She can pay for the actual tea herself; I'm just paying for your added mental energy, which you seem to be rationing very carefully due to a tremendous shortage."

By that point, Julie's glasses were literally steaming. Either from her face heating up with rage, or the coffee machines behind her. Knives had been shrinking away from the whole confrontation, but then she blinked a few times, leaning back toward us.

"Kim?"

My cheeks probably would have turned red at the way she breathed my name. What a dumb reaction. But I made myself focus on what I was doing, stepping forward to add another fiver atop the coins on the counter. "And this is for my espresso. Hurry it the fuck up or I'll do that ask-to-see-a-manager thing we all hate." My work done, I turned and went back over to Steph.

It only took her a minute or so to see that I was back without any drinks. "What happened to my soy latte?"

"Sorry…" All at once, I realised I forgot about that. Or about waiting around for my own drink, either. But she noticed I was out of sorts.

"What happened?"

"To what, your face? I've been wondering that for years."

"No, at the counter." She was used to my attitude by now, and could tell when I was deflecting. A skill I loathe in my friends, because it bypasses my defenses. "You look all shook up."

"Thanks, Elvis." Clearly, she wasn't going to let this go. "Okay… I ran into somebody. From the old days."

Her lip curled slightly. "From the Pilgrim Era, or like even earlier?" My face must have said it all because she winced. "Yikes…"

"I don't care," I told her flatly. "This doesn't matter. Tomorrow, I'm going to wake up and go back to No-Account, punch the clock, and stare into space for six hours until Comeau gets in. Probably drink a bunch of Coke and feel myself contracting diabetes."

"Why don't you just drink Coke Zero?"

My scowl said enough. Still, for good measure, I snapped, "Never… mention Coke Zero… in front of me."

"Okay, Hagrid," she snorted as she finished packing up and we headed for the door. Again, she doesn't respect my grumpiness properly. "But I hope you know this isn't the end of thi-"

Before we could escape Delicious Cup, a pair of crossed blades were blocking our path. Behind their gleaming steel was a pair of dark eyes, blazing with intensity.

"I can't let you leave."

                                                  To Be Continued…

[helloworlddemo1122-yahoopar-blog]

'Dancing With the Stars' Season 24 Premiere: Best Lifts, Kicks, Tricks and Flips!

The season 24 premiere of Dancing With the Stars was full of sweet surprises!

We've covered all the big moments from Monday's show HERE, but now, we're breaking down each piece of choreography. Who had the most difficult dance? Which star executed the best tricks? Which choreographer went above and beyond in the ballroom? The judges locked in their scores, and here at ET, we're doing the same. Keep reading for more!

WATCH: Sharna Burgess and Bonner Bolton Address That 'Unintentional' Viral Moment on 'DWTS' Premiere

Simone Biles and Sasha Farber - Tango, "Untouchable" by Tritonal and Cash Cash

Dance highlight: Ummm, the entire dance?! There were high kicks, dips and a beautiful spin towards the end of the number (and we can't forget about that flawless flip Simone executed during the show's opening number!). When it comes to level of difficulty, Sasha's choreography for week one exceeded our expectations, resulting in a well-deserved spot on the top of the leader board. Judges' score: 32/40. "That was the dance of the night." - Bruno Tonioli ET's score: 36/40. Because this was only week one of the competition, we feel the judge's scores were quite low. But what Simone and Sasha did on that stage Monday night was stronger than some of the performances we've seen from past contestants during their fourth or fifth weeks in the competition. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Nancy Kerrigan and Artem Chigvintsev -- Viennese Waltz, "She's Always a Woman" by Billy Joel

Dance highlight: In addition to Nancy's flawless waltz steps and graceful arm movements, the former Olympic figure skater proved she's just as light on her feet as she is on the ice. Our two favorite moments happened at the 2:04 mark, when she arched her back and kicked her left leg in the air, and at 2:16, when Artem assisted her in a stunning spin that reminded us of something we'd see her execute on ice. Just beautiful! Judges' score: 28/40. "The movement was expressive." - Len Goodman ET's score: 33/40. We can't get over how great Nancy looked in the ballroom. She definitely knows how to use her arms, extending them just as a pro dancer would. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Erika Jayne and Gleb Savchenko -- Salsa, "XXPEN$IVE" by Erika Jayne

Dance highlight: Starting the dance atop a unicorn was certainly memorable, but when it comes to actual dancing, we have to give major props to The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills star's flexibility. Out of all the performances we saw during the premiere, Gleb's choreography was jam-packed with the most creative tricks, the best being a side split into a snake dive to the floor. Judges' score: 24/40. "Full of flair and confidence." - Len Goodman ET's score: 30/40. It's not easy keeping up with the young stars, like Simone and Normani Kordei, both 20. We think the judges may have forgotten that the reality star is 45 years old. When you take that into consideration, she killed it, and we can't wait to see more! Celebrity/fan reaction:

David Ross and Lindsay Arnold -- Quickstep, "Go Cubs Go" by Steve Goodman

Dance highlight: Aside from the fact that their costumes were everything (our favorite of the night!), David's slide on the ballroom floor at the beginning of their dance was the sure standout. It perfectly encapsulated the theme they were going for, plus, who knew a pro baseball player could make a move like that look so graceful? Judges' score: 28/40. "Favorite dance of the night … I didn't excpect that!" - Carrie Ann Inaba ET's score: 32/30. We have to admit, we were quite surprised by the former Chicago Cubs player's skills. We have no doubt he'll improve even more over the next few weeks, especially because he's in good hands with Lindsay. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Rashad Jennings and Emma Slater -- Cha Cha, "24K Magic" by Bruno Mars

Dance highlight: Get it, Rashad! This dance had us majorly entertained from beginning to end, but the highlight occurred mid-dance, when the 31-year-old athlete executed a strong spin, perfectly in sync with Emma (watch at 2:08). Judges' score: 31/40. "You have your own groove and flavor." - Julianne Hough ET's score: 35/40. We've seen a lot of NFL stars on this show in past seasons, but judging from Rashad's week one performance, we're calling it now -- he may be the strongest football player-turned-dancer the dance competition series has ever cast! Celebrity/fan reaction:

Heather Morris and Maksim Chmerkovskiy -- Viennese Waltz, "Make Something Beautiful" by Ben Rector

Dance highlight: The former Glee star appeared to be floating on air as she glided across the floor with Maksim. Her strengths were the multiple spins into smooth transitions Maks incorporated into the choreography, which were highlighted even more by Heather's flowy yellow dress. Our favorite? The pair's breathtaking move at the 2:17 mark. Judges' score: 28/40. "Beautiful lines." - Carrie Ann Inaba ET's score: 35/40. Heather may have prior dance experience (she's an expert in jazz!), but she's never danced ballroom before and mastering that style is no easy feat. We thought her performance was beautifully executed, and we're excited to see how much she improves over the next few weeks. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Normani Kordei and Val Chmerkovskiy -- Quickstep, "Good Time Good Life" by Erin Bowman

Dance highlight: The Fifth Harmony starlet was a graceful beauty, sashaying her way across the ballroom in a stunning white dress. While we couldn't keep our eyes off her seemingly perfect form, that moment she kissed Val on the cheek was surely a highlight -- and a sweet surprise! Judges' score: 27/40. "Great way to set the tone." - Julianne Hough ET's score: 32/40. The quickstep is one of the hardest ballroom styles to master, so receiving this as her week one dance was a bit unfair. Luckily, Val helped Normani get through it like a true pro! Celebrity/fan reaction:

Bonner Bolton and Sharna Burgess -- Cha Cha, "Move" by Luke Bryan

Dance highlight: The professional bull rider definitely has moves, and proved it in the ballroom. That kick spin in the beginning set the bar high for the pair's sexy, cowboy-themed Cha Cha. Judges' score: 22/40. "You ooze a chemistry together that is ridiculous." - Carrie Ann Inaba ET's score: 30/40. In his pre-taped interview package, Bonner teased that he was "dancing with the prettiest lady in the house" and that "things could get spicy." Well, he wasn't joking -- they certainly did! We have no doubt Sharna will amp up the chemistry next week. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Nick Viall and Peta Murgatroyd -- Cha Cha, "Let Me Love You" by DJ Snake and Tiesto feat. Justin Bieber

Dance highlight: The Bachelor star showed off a side of himself we've never really seen before Monday night, slaying Peta's choreography with fun, quick movements. His most memorable trick was at the end of the dance, when he perfectly assisted his partner in a spin on the floor. Judges' score: 24/40. "I know that you don't quit…" - Julianne Hough ET's score: 28/40. While Nick had his moments in the spotlight, our eyes kept going back to Peta. Moving forward in the competition, we think the reality star needs to step it up in order to keep up with his partner, and stay in the competition Celebrity/fan reaction:

Charo and Keo Motsepe -- Salsa, "Cuban Pete" by Mambo Compañeros

Dance highlight: Charo's still got it! A lift into an almost-backbend? We weren't expecting these moves this early on in the competition from the flamenco guitarist, but props to Keo for adding them in. Judges' score: 21/40. "You were a spicy queen of everything … you were hot, girl!" - Julianne Hough ET's score: 25/40. Let's not forget Charo is the oldest competitor this season. At 66 years old, we were highly impressed by her ability to keep up the energy and entertain us with her sassy personality throughout the dance. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Chris Kattan and Witney Carson -- Cha Cha, "What Is Love" by Haddaway

Dance highlight: Who says lifts are just for the girls? We were expecting the signature head nods from A Night at the Roxbury, but we loved that Witney surprised us by incorporating a fun lift for the Saturday Night Live veteran, executed by two male backup dancers, nonetheless, towards the middle of their routine. Judges' score: 17/40. "You pulled it off." - Len Goodman ET's score: 21/40. OK, we totally agree that Chris needs some extra time to practice, but we think the judges were way too harsh on his scoring. As Witney told ET last week, what he can do is limited due to multiple injuries and surgeries. As long as he shows fans he's ready to improve next week, we're hoping his setbacks won't cause him an early elimination. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Mr. T and Kym Johnson -- Cha Cha, the theme from The A-Team by Mike Post, Peter Carpenter and The Daniel Caine Orchestra

Dance highlight: Though there were a lot of missteps in this number (The A-Team star kept leading with the wrong foot), we salute him for his effort. That being said, the best trick from this dance was from dance pro Kym, who had one memorable high kick. Judges' score: 20/40. "The T doesn't stand for technique." - Len Goodman ET's score: 20/40. We have to agree with the judges on this one. Our advice for Mr. T moving forward? Focus on getting the steps down during rehearsals so you don't have to think about them on show day. Once the steps are ingrained in your brain, you can focus on performing the piece. Celebrity/fan reaction:

Are YOU excited for season 24 of Dancing With the Stars? Which team do you think had the best dance? Let me know on Twitter (@desireemurphy_ ) or in the comments section on our official Facebook page! And be sure to follow all of our DWTS coverage all season long, right here on ETonline.com.

WATCH: 'DWTS': Standouts, Surprises and Slip-Ups From the Season 24 Premiere!

[placetobenation]

This week in the WWE was a bloodbath.

On Wednesday, the company made a series of announcements that owner Vince McMahon said would save the company $4 million a month and $140 million in upcoming costs in what would have been a move into the new WWE headquarters in Stamford, CT. . On the personal side, it also cost over 30 people their jobs with the WWE.

Among the cuts were Kurt Angle, Rusev, Zack Ryder, Karl Anderson and Lio Rush along with both Maria and Mike Bennett.  In addition to on-air superstars, there were many familiar names backstage who were let go with Fit Finley, Shane Helms, Mike Rotunda and Billy Kidman amongst them.

It appears as if the producers were all furloughed and fired. They’ve reportedly been given a date of July 1st that they could be back with the company. Also, it’s been reported that all talent that was let go have 90-day compete clauses in their contracts. 

One of the more emotional superstars to be cut that spoke publicly was Drew Maverick. Maverick, ironically, is still scheduled to be shown this upcoming Wednesday night as part of the Cruiserweight Tournament on NXT.

My immediate thoughts.@WWE @WWENXT #WWE #NXT @TripleH @ShawnMichaels #Cruiserweight pic.twitter.com/Afw58V7eo1

— Drake Maverick (@WWEMaverick) April 15, 2020

The full list is:  Kurt Angle, Rusev, Karl Anderson, Luke Gallows, Drake Maverick, Eric Young, EC3, Lio Rush, Zack Ryder, Curt Hawkins, Heath Slater, Sarah Logan, Erick Rowan, No Way Jose, Primo & Epico Colon, Mike Kanellis, Maria Kanellis, Deonna Purrazzo, Aleksander Jaksic, Aiden English (announcer), Mike Chioda (referee), Billy Kidman (producer), Mike Rotunda (producer), Dave “Fit” Finlay (producer), Pat Buck (producer), Shawn Daivari (producer), Scott Armstrong (producer), Sarah Stock (producer), Shane Helms (producer), Lance Storm (producer), Andrea Listenberger (writer), Serena Deeb (coach) Ace Steel (coach), MJ Jenkins, Norman Smiley (coach), Josiah Williams (announcer), Jerry Soto (announcer – furloughed), Tino Sabbatelli, Cezar Bononi, Mars Wang, Taynara Conti, Nick Ogarelli and Kendo Kashin (coach).

Now, it will be interesting to see who ends up where, right? Of interest to AEW should be Rusev, Rowan, Maria & Mike Kanellis for starters. Although, you have to think AEW won’t want to oversaturate the roster and be efficient with their company size and tv time. Gallows and Anderson you would think would be destined back to NJPW. ROH and Impact Wrestling are also spots to look to add. Lio Rush would be a good compliment to any roster these days.

As for the WWE, as much as the roster cuts hurt the individuals, there is one way to look at it in the positive. Most of these superstars weren’t getting the tv time or the right push they deserved. So, pairing it down and concentrating on more creative with less people might help the product in the end. Who knows. In the end, though, my hearts and prayers go out to all affected, especially in these unprecedented times of the COVID-19 pandemic.

Oh yeah, the coronavirus pandemic, something the WWE has still yet to utter and acknowledge head on in any of its television programming. A mistake then, now and forever. They should’ve been honest with the WWE Universe they so richly tell us they care about. Right!

RAW

RESULTS

Women’s Money in the Bank Qualifying Match: Asuka defeated Ruby Riott

Aleister Black defeated Oney Lorcan

Women’s Money in the Bank Qualifying Match: Shayna Baszler defeated Sarah Logan (match stopped)

Austin Theory defeated Akira Tozawa

Angel Garza defeated Tehuti Miles

Women’s Money in the Bank Qualifying Match: Nia Jax defeated Kairi Sane

Bobby Lashley defeated No Way Jose

The Viking Raiders defeated Ricochet & Cedric Alexander

Champion vs. Champion Match: WWE Champion Drew McIntyre defeated United States Champion Andrade

Familia.#WWERaw @Zelina_VegaWWE @AndradeCienWWE @AngelGarzaWwe @austintheory1 pic.twitter.com/pgFmIH6JoB

— WWE (@WWE) April 14, 2020

We’ll just call Monday Night RAW what it was – Monday Night Zelina Vega! With her hands in both Austin Theory and Angel Garza’s victories and subsequent beatdowns after their matches along with Andrade, the new female face of Monday nights led the US Champ into a champion vs. champion match against WWE champion Drew McIntyre. It’s good to see a new faction taking the spotlight, but will it stick or is it just part of the circumstances with a decreased roster available due to the pandemic? We shall see, but I like what I see so far. They’ll have to keep Andrade strong after his main event loss.

The #MondayNightMessiah @WWERollins enjoyed EVERY second of that. #WWERaw pic.twitter.com/l3NEiqtviy

— WWE (@WWE) April 14, 2020

Now, after the win, McIntyre gets curbstomped by Seth Rollins, who seemingly is now in line for a title shot at Money in the Bank. The other question will be that is Rollins now aligned with the new Vega faction or just partners in crime for a night? We shall see.  Also, since Seth lost at WrestleMania to Kevin Owens, should KO be getting a shot and not the Monday Night Messiah? Seems odd.

It was disappointing to see Kairi Sane get decimated by Nia Jax in less than 3 minutes. She deserves better. The same could be said for the now departing Sarah Logan, who got stopped by an “arm injury” at the hands of Shayna Baszler.

I don’t quite get having Ricochet & Cedric Alexander lose just one week after being put together. It was a fun match with The Viking Raiders but didn’t seem like it gave the up-and-coming team the help it needed. One week does NOT a push make.

Finally, is the WWE really out of creativity? Three times we got the (insert superstar) is here on the graphics! Be better!

NXT

RESULTS

Finn Balor defeated Fabian Aichner

Xia Li defeated Aliyah

Interim NXT Cruiserweight Championship Tournament – B Block: Akira Tozawa defeated Isaiah Scott

Tegan Nox defeated Rachel Gonzalez

Dexter Lumis defeated Tehuti Miles

NXT Tag Team Title Match: Matt Riddle and Timothy Thatcher (picked by Pete Dunne) defeated Bobby Fish and Roderick Strong

Twitter; tick tock https://twitter.com/WWE/status/1250605674649858048

Twitter: thatcher: https://twitter.com/WWENXT/status/1250604949802795015

Twitter: dream date: https://twitter.com/WWENXT/status/1250597231541063682

Another solid show to win the Wednesday night viewership wars over AEW for the second straight week. I guess now we know why Lio Rush wasn’t named to the Cruiserweight Championship Tournament, right?

Welcome to @WWENXT, Timothy!@SuperKingOfBros & TIMOTHY THATCHER retain the #WWENXT #TagTeamTitles! #AndStill pic.twitter.com/E2mmwD2KgF

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) April 16, 2020

We did get the debut with Timothy Thatcher being hand-picked by Pete Dunne, who can’t travel to the US with the pandemic restrictions. Not too shabby starting the NXT career with a hand-given title and a win over Bobby Fish and Roderick Strong, who was subbing for Kyle O’Reilly.

So, Charlotte Flair wants Mia Yim to get her first shot in NXT since it was her first match in NXT. That’s cute and detailed. I like it.

Next Wednesday. @FinnBalor. @DreamWWE. It's a date. #WWENXT pic.twitter.com/on5mvh44L5

— WWE NXT (@WWENXT) April 16, 2020

Loved the intimate showdown between Finn Balor and The Velveteen Dream, who have a “date” set for next week’s show.

WHAT JUST HAPPENED?!? @NXTCiampa did not see THIS coming!!!#WWENXT pic.twitter.com/XOzLNuxqpX

— WWE (@WWE) April 16, 2020

And how about that first sighting of Killer Kross and Scarlett Bordeaux! Kross takes out Tommaso Ciampa during Ciampa’s congratulatory promo to Johnny Gargano while we get the outline of Bordeaux’s boot around his head. Big things ahead I’m sure are coming between Kross, Ciampa, Bordeaux and Candice LeRae.

SMACKDOWN

RESULTS

Tamina defeated Sasha Banks – Tamina wins a shot at Bayley’s SmackDown Women’s Title

Sheamus defeated Denzel DeJournette

Women’s Money in the Bank Qualifying Match: Dana Brooke defeated Naomi

Men’s Money in the Bank Qualifying Match: Daniel Bryan defeated Cesaro

Triple Threat Tag Team Title Match:  Big E defeated The Miz and Jey Uso to win the SmackDown Tag Team Titles for The New Day

I’ll give it the blue crew. SmackDown definitely had more urgency, emotion and a good vibe too it than in the past few weeks. I don’t think that’s just because it went “live.” It was a very enjoyable two-hours and I’d give it the show of the week, two thumbs up!

BREAKING: WWE Superstars will climb the corporate ladder at #MITB! The match begins on the ground floor of WWE Headquarters but the briefcases will be hanging all the way up on the roof of the corporate tower! https://t.co/iGoIUggwzo pic.twitter.com/TqawawkBXs

— WWE (@WWE) April 18, 2020

MITB on the roof? pic.twitter.com/irORaoN5TV

— Malcolm Bivens (@Malcolmvelli) April 18, 2020

First things first. Let me get this straight. For this year’s Money in the Bank matches, superstars have to climb to the roof of WWE corporate headquarters to grab the vaunted briefacases? Did I hear that right? OK, you’ve got my attention. I’m officially intrigued to see how this one plays out.

Nobody plays mind games better than @WWEBrayWyatt. #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/P6d5Tfq6pq

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) April 18, 2020

The Little Big Things start the night as Universal Champion Braun Strowman joins former teammate Alexa Bliss (and Nikki Cross) on A Moment of Bliss. Love that they are tying in the old storyline with Braun and The Wyatt Family, complete with Braun’s old goat mask as a gift. If they make it emotional and full of mind games, The Fiend vs. The Monster could have legs.

Looks like we’ll get more Lacey Evans vs. Sasha Banks as Evans helps Tamina to take down The Boss to earn her a shot at Banks’ BFF Bayley’s Women’s Smackdown Title. Next Friday, it’s Evans vs. Banks in a MITB Qualifying match.

We guess @WWESheamus isn't a fan of @JEFFHARDYBRAND. #SmackDown pic.twitter.com/r4RXbR1x9s

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) April 18, 2020

Sheamus in another <1 minute squash. Why? And yeah, BTW: what’s his beef with Michael Cole and Jeff Hardy?

Shocker of the night – Dana Brooke over Naomi in the Women’s Qualifying Match. Did not see that coming. Between that win and a future tag team title match, things are looking up for Miss Brooke.

We got more emotion and backstory out of Mandy Rose and Sonya Deville in five minutes Friday night than we’ve got out of Fire and Desire in five years. Keep it personal and keep it up ladies!

Give me more of those short introductory vignettes like we saw for The Forgotten Sons! Now’s the time to let us know these superstars really are!

Some keep their friends close…#SmackDown pic.twitter.com/igLNbOJheL

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) April 18, 2020

We wanted more of the hacker and we’ve got him. Could this week’s spot be teasing a twist and potential heel turn between teams like The Miz & John Morrison, The New Day, The Usos and Bliss & Cross? Or maybe the hacker means Cesaro, Shinsuke Nakamura & Sami Zayn or Daniel Bryan and Drew Gulak. Intriguing!

Daniel Bryan and Cesaro in the same ring is truly a clinic and their short time together Friday night didn’t disappoint. Good to see Bryan back in the title picture too by qualifying for the MITB match.  I wonder if we’ll see Drew Gulak join him there as next Friday, Gulak faces King Corbin in a MITB qualifying match.

Not for nothing, but shouldn’t Corbin and Elias do a match in Memphis for the rightful title of The King when it’s all said and done? Jerry “The King” Lawler would have to do commentary of course!

DON'T YOU DARE BE SOUR! (via @WWE) #SmackDownpic.twitter.com/ockboZz3sF

— WWE on FOX (@WWEonFOX) April 18, 2020

Congrats to The New Day – now 8 time WWE Tag Team Champions! Big E gets it done over Jey Uso and The Miz in the triple threat match. Nice touch using the “social media” reactions from Kofi Kingston and Xavier Woods too!

Parting shots:

RIP Howard Finkel. A legendary voice. But so much more. Simply a legend. Our thoughts and prayers go out to his family and friends.

If you haven’t gotten a chance to see The Big Show Show on Netflix, do it. It’s very entertaining and funny. Paul Wight’s got some acting chops folks!

Thanks for letting us share our thoughts! Shoot me an email at jcrowe567@gmail.com. We’d love to hear your comments and suggestions! You can also check out my blog, The Crowe’s Nest as we delve into more pro wrestling, sports entertainment and the World of Sports. My apologies ahead of time – I AM a Patriots and Red Sox fan! If you’re not down with that, I’ve got TWO WORDS for you… NEW ENGLAND!

[lesnerinn]

We’ll be honest. We think that we have the best job on Earth because every day is a party at Lesner Inn! Every Monday, we meet to recap the weekend’s events & have been keeping a running list of some of the most memorable weddings of 2017. At the end of each year, we sit down to go over all of these lists & pick our favorites to share with you, our past, present, & future couples!

We hope you enjoy scrolling through some of the most beautiful, touching & even comical moments from Lesner Inn over the past year!

Best Something Old

As the saying goes, you must have something old, something new, something borrowed & something blue on your wedding day. Courtney nailed it with her something old by altering her mother’s wedding dress for her own wedding. Her mom did not get to see the dress until the day of & the result gave us all chills!

Below: Love Simply Photography

Best Something Borrowed

Continuing along the path of something old, new, borrowed & blue, Liz’s something borrowed pulled at our heart strings when she wore a bracelet from each of her grandmothers. We love that she tied in both sides of her family on her wedding day!

Below: Beth Hamilton Photography

Best Something Blue

Elizabeth made sure not to forget a single bit of blue on her wedding day & we loved her take on a coastal wedding. They even kicked off the day with blue champagne!

Below: Echard Wheeler Photography

Best Cake

This amazing creation by Whipped Up by Mimi quite literally takes the cake for the year! We see so many different styles of cake but we were head over antlers for this rustic naked cake. Oh & those antlers…they’re pure white chocolate!

Right: Lee Yen Photography

Best Cake Smash

Tim & Kate cracked us up from day one & that didn’t stop after they said “I do”! These two have such a laid back style & didn’t feel the pressure of wedding planning one bit. Kate clearly wasn’t worried about what Tim’s white shirt would look like after she smashed cake into his face, and we found it hysterical!

Below: Echard Wheeler Photography

Best Dessert Alternative

Amanda & Surge aren’t big cake people so, instead of a traditional wedding cake, they brought in Confetti Gelato! We knew that we loved this sweet couple but, when they told us that they were skipping the cake & going for gelato instead, we knew that they were meant to roll with the coordinators at Lesner Inn!

Below: Wasin French Photography

Best Cake Topper

Justin & Ariel weren’t messing around when they picked out their cake topper!  We got such a kick out of this one that we had to award it best cake topper of 2017!

Left: Ashley Peterson Photography

Best Bridal Bouquet

Kelly Gish, you are the florist of the year with this incredible bouquet! We loved Nelson & Nicole’s color palette for their wedding & the flowers were just the cherry on top of a beautiful day. Check out those small pops of purple nestled in the arrangement!

Below: Luke & Ashley Photography

Best Ceremony

It’s rare that a bride & groom can surprise us with something new, but we are pretty sure that this is our first couple to get married ON the water. Morgan & Jake sailed out into the Lynnhaven River with their immediate families to tie the knot while their guests enjoyed cocktail hour in the Waterside Deck. This beautiful moment is definitely the most unique ceremony of 2017!

Below: Lee Yen Photography

Best First Look

Mike, you HANDS DOWN had the best reaction of any groom seeing his bride for the first time when Alishia walked down the aisle. We are so glad Dustin Lewis captured this moment!

Below: Dustin Lewis Images

Best Kiss

The moment that we saw this photo, we knew that it had to be awarded the best kiss of 2017. We love that this groomsmen got down on his hands & knees to give Jonathan a boost to his bride!

Right: Kelly Dier Photography

Cutest Ring Bearer & Flower Girl

Alright, so these two actually weren’t from the same wedding but we were so taken with them that we had to award them cutest ring bearer and cutest flower girl. Kayleigh & Wayne created this “Ring Security” badge for this little guy to make sure that everyone knew what his main job was. And even though it took a little nudging from their coordinator, Kyle & Amy’s flower girl strutted her stuff down the aisle once she realized that she was the center of attention!

Left: Jason Jarvis Photography  –  Right: Dragon Studios

Best Décor

Style Events did it again with one! Meghan & Craig had a beautiful wedding with long banquet tables, stunning linens from Waterford Event Rentals & romantic florals from Palette of Petals. Their use of creative floor plans & floating florals on the arch wins them the best décor of 2017!

Below: Echard Wheeler Photography

Best Theme

We will be the first to admit that we were a little confused when Tim & Kate told us that theme of their wedding was going to be America. But these two are the goofiest, most fun-loving people so we knew that we were in for a treat. They tied the knot on Memorial Day weekend & requested that all of their guests wear white with patriotic flair, had Statue of Liberty centerpieces, & danced to God Bless the USA for their first dance while their guests surrounded them waving American flags. Hands down, the best theme of the year!

Below: Echard Wheeler Photography

Best Stationery

One of the parts of the planning process that we rarely get to see is the invitation suite. Every once in a while though, a couple will bring them in so the photographer’s can snap a few photos of them. We loved Nelson & Nicole’s trendy invites with the agate textured background!

Right: Wasin French Photography

Best Traditional Wedding

We see all sorts of family, religious & cultural traditions at Lesner Inn. This year we were lucky enough to be able to learn about the Bengali culture during Trina & Greg’s wedding ceremony. They incorporated both of their traditions into their marriage ceremony & you can read much more about the traditions and customs in their wedding spotlight here!

Below: Chelsea Anderson Photography

Best Exit

Oh hello beautiful Lynnhaven River! We love when couples utilize the water for a boat exit or entrance &, even though it was a misty day, Thomas & Lauren still sailed away in style. This boat exit won the best exit of 2017!

Below: Dragon Studio

Best First Dance

Tyler & Rachael’s first dance gave us all the feels & when we saw this photo from Kelly Marie, we knew that they stole the spotlight for 2017. What is better than a handsome man in uniform spinning his new wife around the dance floor?

Right: Kelly Marie Photography

Best Sunset

Lesner Inn is FAMOUS for the epic sunsets that you can catch every evening from the venue. While there were 365 contenders, Jon & Andrea win the award for the best sunset photo of 2017!

Left: Winston Veranga Photography

Best Party Crowd

Everyone looks forward to a wedding for the drinking, dancing, & love. Jordan & Nicole’s guests were no different but these guys REALLY came to party! Check out the top right photo, even Grandma got in on that open bar action!

Below: David Champagne Photography

Best Dressed

This category is a liiiiittle deceiving, but it is going three years strong now! We aren’t quite sure what makes guests want to strip down on the dance floor, but anyone who does definitely deserves to win best dressed!

Below: Dragon Studios

Best Rainy Wedding

Rain on your wedding day isn’t what most couples hope for, but sometimes Mother Nature has another idea in store for us. Kent & Haley rolled with the punches so well when it started to pour right before their ceremony, but luckily our Sunset Deck is covered so you can still have your outdoor ceremony, even with a little inclement weather. Because of their positive attitudes all day, they get the award for best rainy wedding of 2017!

Left: Bryan Myhr Photography

Best Groomsman Photo

Guys can be goofy… but this crew really had us giggling! We love that they took posing into their own hands by stealing the bridesmaid’s bouquets.

Below: Jason Jarvis Photography

Best Squad Pic

Amanda & Matt got busted with their squad when the First Landing State Park rangers jumped in on the action. Nothing says a party like some flashing lights & sirens!

Below: Dustin Lewis Images

Best Personal Touch

Jamie & Jill hid a little personal touch inside of their wedding dresses. Here is what they told us when we asked about these blue hearts:

“One thing that we decided to do was cre­ate our own lit­tle memo­ri­als for those who couldn’t be with us on our spe­cial day. Jill’s father passed away sev­eral years ago, so she cut a heart out of one of his blue shirts… and, Jamie’s grand­fa­ther had passed away in Feb­ru­ary, so she cut a heart out of one of his favorite jean jack­ets. We pinned these inside our dresses – as our some­thing old and some­thing blue.”

You can read more about their wedding on their wedding spotlight.

Below: Valerie Betz Photography

2017 came & went so quickly, & we cannot thank the people & vendors we worked with this year enough for making our weddings such a success!  We can’t wait to see what 2018 has in store, & to meet all of the wonderful, beautiful couples who will tie the knot at Lesner Inn with us in the years to come!

Best of 2017! We’ll be honest. We think that we have the best job on Earth because every day is a party at…