#I’m on a low dose of it now but we’re gonna bump it up a little after a week

[a-concert-just-for-me]

I’ve been in such a good mood the last few days I feel like I’m legitimately in the twilight zone

[lustbile-archive]

Come Here Often?

MarkxReader

Word Count: 4K

Summary/Warnings: usual for the series. Smut, public sex, sharp objects and blood play. Also rip sorry for the dumb title I thought it was funny

APART OF THE CLUB X SERIES  (recommend reading other works)

“So which dating app did you meet this guy on?” you teased your friend as you stumbled out of the back of the taxi, the last of your friends to exit.

The friend in question grabs onto your forearm, helping you get steady on your feet making sure you don’t fall regardless of the way your words makes her face warm in her shyness, “Bumble. So if it makes me seem any better I did make the first move.”

You pull your arm out of her hold to wrap it around her waist, nuzzling at her neck as the rest of the group laughs at your conversation and begins walking to the entrance of the club. You two follow slowly behind, cuddling and tripping over each other as you walk, “nothing bad about finding him from an app, i’m just teasing because I love you.”

“I know, I love you too,” she lovingly pets at the top of your head as you get closer to the entrance. The person leading the group almost steps through the door, before someone interrupts, quieting the group.

“Wait, don’t we have to show our ID’s?” they ask, warily eyeing two men that stand by the door. Their all black clothing and the way they carry themselves telling you they are the bouncers of the club, but when you lock eyes with the shorter of the two, his eyes look hollow and disinterested as he shakes his head.

“Nah,” you shake your head as you playfully curl into your friend, unable to move your eyes from the men, “I don’t think they really give a fuck about what we do.”

Your words only earn satisfied hums and giggles from your group, and a slightly amused shake of the head from the men, before you crowd the entrance, pushing against one another to get in.

The loud music rattles against you as you continue to cling to your friend, the dark red lighting forcing you to stop and let your eyes adjust to the room. The atmosphere of the room makes your breathing deepens and slows as it feels like there’s something that lingers in the air and slows down your mind with every breath you take. It feels like you’re cemented in the same spot, staring blankly into the crowd of writhing bodies, before your friend’s voice and the way she tugs on your arm breaks you away from your daze.

“C’mon,” a few more tugs and your feet pick up again, and you're following behind her as she moves through the club like she’s been here a million times, “he texted and said they had one of the big booths towards the back.”

You can only dumbly nod as you follow closely behind, some of the other people in your group also following while the others break off in search of drinks.

It’s as if your body had gone numb when you walked in, as you barely register the way that the sweaty bodies of strangers bump and knock into you. You’re only brought back to reality momentarily when a man wearing a decorated mask interrupts your path. He only nods in a quick apology when he sees you jump, but continues walking as if he’s trying to catch up with something.

“Come on, don’t be so slow,” your friend finally resorts to wrapping her arm around your waist and all but dragging you in the direction she wants, as you move it feels like the room is passing you at a hundred miles a minute, “I think I can see the booth.”

She thought correctly, as it's only seconds before you’re approaching a booth in the shape of a semicircle, one half of it being occupied by a group of men.

You’d be lying if you said they weren’t all attractive. All in their own different ways as they look up and smile at your approaching group, but when you meet eyes with the boy at the center you’re hit with a concerning feeling of recognition. The way he smiles doesn’t fully reach his eyes, this and his slim face and dark hair makes it feel like your brain short circuits.

You don’t have time to process the feelings seeing this man makes you feel, nor break the eye contact he’s forced you into, before your friend is shoving you into the booth to sit directly next to him as she babbles apologies for keeping the boys waiting.

You can tell which of the boys she was meant to be meeting, as when you start to settle into the seating, he eyes her in admiration from his spot in the middle of his friends and he reassures her that the wait was no problem. He seems enraptured with her regardless of her frazzled energy as she sits you and your other friends as if you were rowdy children, the infatuation he radiates for her warms your heart so much you almost don’t notice how close your seated to the boy that still continues to stare at you.

You’re smiling at their interactions, when you feel something touch your arm, making you jump. An amused chuckle comes from beside you as you look over to the man, the tips of his fingers still brushing the skin of your forearm. The dark around his eyes makes them seem sharper than they we’re probably naturally, and the taunting smile he wears makes you want to lean away, but there’s an aura that dances around him that makes it impossible to look away and you even find yourself leaning closer when he speaks.

“I’m Mark,” he offers as he smiles at you, the surrounding noise of the club almost muffling as he speaks. His hand moves from your arm as he reaches to rest his arm on the seat behind your head, and you offer your name in return. He repeats your name back at you slowly and moves a few inches closer, the low rasp in his voice when he speaks makes a shiver run up your spine and your body starts to warm.

Your eyes are unmoving from his face as he glances at the other people that sit around you, and you feel your eyebrows thread together at the oddly determined look he wears.

“You don’t seem like the type that would be brought here,” he says when his eyes return to you. You smile softly, slightly confused as when he says it, all he knows so far is your name so how would he know anything about your “type?” But the way he smiles and forms his words, it doesn’t seem like he means it in the way that it sounds.

“Well this is where your friend wanted to meet mine, and since he was bringing his friends, she wanted to bring hers,” you ramble from the way speaking to him makes you nervous, you shrug quickly before continuing, “you make it sound like you come here often, so what type of people usually come in here?”

“Ah yeah,” he nods, reaching to pick up his glass from the table, taking a drink as his arm slips from the seat to rest on your shoulders, “sometimes it feels like I can never leave this place honestly, but with all the people I’ve seen, none of them have been as gorgeous as you.”

Any other man, and those words would have made your skin crawl as you tried to find an excuse to leave, but when his eyes lock onto yours as he speaks, it feels like leaving was never an option and you feel yourself leaning into his hold.

Your mouth opens slightly, but before you can respond you feel your friend grab at your knee to get your attention. She seems just as dazed as you when you turn to look at her, and you exchange dopey smiles. You ignore the way her eyebrows wiggle at the way Mark holds you, and instead let out a questioning ‘hm?’

“We’re going to get drinks,” she says as her and the rest of your friends go to stand from the booth, the group of boys following suit, “you two wanna come with?”

The way his fingers softly dig into the flesh of your arm locks you in place. His hold on you isn’t strong enough that you couldn’t get up if you had wanted, but the way it makes your chest tighten makes it feel like his grip was made of steel.

“Ah no,” you smile, shifting closer to the boy as you shake your head, “I think I’m gonna stay back and get to know Mark better.”

She grins at your words, clearly thrilled that you’ve found someone to talk to so quickly. She nods to the rest of the group and they start to move towards the bar, your head tilting in confusion when the last boy to stand looks at you confused at the last words you spoke.

Your confusion is short-lived, when Mark squeezes at your arm to bring your focus back to him, “well i guess we’re alone now,” the suggestive tone he adopts warms your skin and the pit of your stomach.

“Seems like it,” you nod as you're filled with nerves mixed with a weird sense of calm. Something about the way he smiles and speaks to you makes your mind swim and your stomach turn. With a small dose of shame you admit to yourself that, if he were to ask, you would go home with him right then.

“What made you want to hang back with me?” his head jerks back slightly when he asks, the gesture making you grin at how endearing his mannerisms are.

“I don’t know,” your tone is far more flirty than you had intended as you answer honestly, but he only looks amused as he moves his hand from your shoulder to cup the back of your neck.

“Hm… you will eventually,” he murmurs in a way that suggests he was speaking to himself as he ignores the confused look that returns to your face, “so you just came for your friend huh?”

“Um.. hm yeah,” you stutter and nod as his fingers start to pet at the skin protecting your jugular, making you squirm slightly in your seat, “she gets nervous meeting new people so we wanted to make it a group thing to make her more comfortable.”

“But is that the only reason?” you feel your body flinch back at the nonsensical question, but his hold keeps you in place, “I think you’re also here for yourself.”

“Is that so?” you asked, amused at his assumption. Admittedly, you had been stressed lately with all that was happening in your life but it was odd that he would just guess that.

“Yeah,” he nods as he moves his face closer to yours, “I think you need some stress relief, and lucky for you I'm really talented at relieving stress.”

“Are you now? And how would you do that Mark?”

“Well,” he starts, repeating your name in the same inflection that you spoke his, “I can help in any way that you’re willing to let me.”

His hand lands high on your bare thigh once he finishes speaking, the gleam that dances in his eyes is dangerous and feeds the excitement that builds in your chest. If you were willing to let him take you home earlier, the way that he looks at you makes you even more willing now.

“If you think it will help,” you tease as you start to drag a finger down his chest, “I’d say you can do whatever you want.”

“Whatever?” he asks rhetorically as if he knew that would be your answer.

“Yeah you’ll just have to drive cause we took a taxi,” your nail catches on the collar of his shirt, ready to drag him up from his seat.

“Nah,” his hand moves to hook at the back of your thigh, pulling you from the leather of the booth to straddle his lap. You can’t help but let out a surprised yelp when your skirt shifts up, allowing you to feel his bulge pressing into the fabric of your underwear, “I think I can get what I want done right here.”

“You want to mess around in the middle of this club?” your fingers tangle in the fabric of his shirt to help balance yourself. The cocky smile he wears on his face at your shocked expression makes your stomach flip. Why didn’t this sound like a bad idea?

“Yeah I don’t see why not,” he shrugs, his fingers dance up the skin of your thighs until they slip under the fabric of your skirt to grab at the flesh of your ass.

“Really? You don’t?” you say sarcastically while leaning back to get a better look at his face, “don’t see why messing around with someone you just met in the middle of a crowded club where anyone can see might be a bad idea?”

Regardless of your words, you allow him to start moving your hips to drag you against his crotch, little sparks of pleasure making your shoulders relax and your head tilt back.

“You might think its a bad idea,” he speaks slowly, one hand moving from your hips to wrap around your throat as his hips start thrusting up to meet yours, “but your body doesn’t.”

“Shut up,” you groan as the grip he has on the sides of your neck cuts off the blood flow to your head, making you dizzy. You could feel yourself cracking, your comment of letting him do whatever he wanted only becoming more true, “if anyone sees us, especially our friends, I will kick your ass.”

“Trust me when I say, no ones going to see us,” the intensity in his eyes when he says this makes it feel like he really does have control over everything in the room. He most definitely has control over every inch of you when, after you gently nod with a pout forming on your lips, he pulls you down by your neck to press his lips against yours.

His tongue is warm in your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours and making you feel like you could get drunk on just his lips. You release the fabric of his shirt to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him to your chest, when you get this sudden need to be as closely pressed against him as possible. Your hips begin to desperately grind on him at a faster pace, this and the way you start to quietly whimper into his mouth makes his chest shake slightly as he laughs.

“How wet are you right now?” he breaks away to ask, only leaving centimeters between your mouths.

“Wet enough,” you speak without thinking, but it was the truth. You could feel your thin underwear sticking to your core, his lips and hands and every inch of him getting you aroused faster than you’ve ever been before.

“Good,” his hand falls from your neck, squeezing between your bodies to undo the button and zipper of his pants. As he works, your lips press harshly back against his and you feel him groan roughly into your mouth when he reaches inside his underwear to pull himself out.

You can’t help the happy sigh you let out when you feel his fist brush the inside of your thighs as he tugs on himself a few times. The idea of him touching himself to get ready to fuck you makes excitement build in your body and you begin to bounce slightly on top of him.

“So impatient,” he breaks away from your mouth again, his hand that isn’t wrapped around himself moving to flip up your skirt and move your underwear to the side. The feeling of the stuffy club air hitting your newly exposed skin makes you pant and clench at the possibility of being seen, “but I don’t know if we have a lot of time, so I don’t think I'll get the pleasure of teasing you too much.”

“Mark please,” you plead, pressing your mouth against the skin under his jaw before digging your teeth into the sensitive skin. The pain that shoots through his neck from your mouth, makes his hips stutter against his hand and his dampened tip nudges against your clit.

He must enjoy the way you jump at the contact, as he starts dragging his tips from your entrance and back up to your clit over and over, quiet grunts falling from his lips.

“Feel a lot more than just wet enough sweetheart,” he teases, pressing less than an inch inside you before going back to teasing your skin.

“Fuck Mark,” you curl around him trying to sink down every time he pushes into you, “please just fuck me already.”

He seems fed up with his own teasing, as after your final complaint, he finally pushes fully inside you. The feeling of him stretching you so suddenly has you moaning loudly as you forget where you are. His hands pull you tightly against his chest as you flutter around him in an attempt at getting adjusted to his sudden intrusion. The warmth of his hands petting your skin making you melt calmly in his hold.

You start to slowly move in his lap, making him drag against the nerves deep inside you. You’re unable to move too much from the tight hold he has on you, but the way the fabric of his shirt rubs against your clit and his breath puffs warm against your neck makes you crumble in his hold.

The air is knocked from your lungs, when he starts to cant his hips up to meet your movements, shoving him deeper than you thought he could go. His name is the only coherent word that slips past your lips as your nails dig into the leather of the seat behind him.

“Look at you,” his fingers squeezing your skin in a way that you know you’ll have bruises from him the next day, “taking me so well aren’t you? I knew you would.”

You keen at his praise, your hips moving quicker in response. The pleasure that builds in the pit of your stomach is enough to distract you from one of his hands moving away from your hips, enough to distract you from the sound of breaking glass behind you, but not enough to distract from the stinging pain that bites into the skin of your collar bone.

He doesn’t let up on the way he thrusts into you, or the way he sweetly coos at you as squirm in pleasure and pain. The same moment he discards the jagged glass and returns his hand to your skin, he latches his mouth to the deep cut he left behind in your skin, his tongue lapping at the blood that spills from it.

You knew that if your mind wasn’t fuzzy with arousal and you weren’t teetering on the edge of your orgasm, you would have freaked out. Something about the man below you skews your judgment, making you willing to fold in any way he’d ask.

He doesn’t move an inch from the wound he created as he starts to rub quick circles onto your clit, the sudden friction has you hurtling faster into your finish. It’s when he starts sucking harshly, bruising the skin around the cut, that you start to come around him.

He doesn’t slow his thrusts in any way, making you feel like you’re being pulled apart at every seam. You can feel moans and whines of pleasure flowing from you, but the static that fills your ears muffles the sound.

Tears begin to roll down your face, as he pushes you away to sit up straight. The air hitting the cut stings enough on its own, but it stings even more when the fingers, that only moments before were abusing your clit, brush against it to collect your blood that continues to spill out.

“There you go,” he says darkly, as he shoves his bloodied fingers deep in your mouth. He’s stopped thrusting as he holds you tightly against him to grind with him pressed fully inside you, “make me come baby.”

Your tongue rolls against his fingers, the taste of your blood mixed with the evidence of your orgasm that was left behind makes your heart pound as you grind faster against him. The way his head tilts back against the seat behind him as he watches you move makes you feel like you’re being hunted.

The second his lip tucks between his teeth is the only indication you need to know that he’s started to come, a pathetic whimper muffles around his fingers when you feel him come deep and warm inside you. You clench harshly around him in hopes to prolong his pleasure, a groan deep from his belly a prize you receive in return.

He pulls his fingers out of your mouth, a string of saliva connecting them to your lips for a second. The now free hand moves to join the other on your hips, slowing your grinding until you’re sat still on his lap.

His warm hands knead the wound up muscles of your thighs as you even your breathing, a dopey smile pulling on your lips as he smiles proudly up at you. You can help yourself as you reach out to run your fingers across the skin of his cheek bone as you stare at him in awe. A weird feeling suddenly fills you as you look down at him, a warmth flooding your chest.

He lifts you from his lap, placing you gently back onto your seat and adjusting your clothes back to the right places. He adjusts himself back into his pants, before he turns back to you.

“Your friends are coming back soon,” the sureness of his words twists at you in a weird way, “I have to get going.”

You sit up straight, your hands latching back onto the fabric of his shirt in panic, “I mean I know I said I didn’t want to get caught, but I don’t want you to leave either.”

“Next time you come here, you’ll be by yourself,” he shifts to move away from the booth, his fingers prying yours from his shirt and holding your hands reassuringly, “and you’ll find me pretty easy.”

Words escape your mind as he lets go of your hands and moves away from the booth, the smile he throws over his shoulder making you shiver and sigh.

You’re sinking into the leather as you watch him disappear into the crowd, when your friends come skipping back, the boys following close behind with their drinks held tightly in their hands.

You immediately lighten up as your friend slips into the booth beside you, a warm smile on her face as everyone else sits as well. Her bubbly mood is dampened slightly when she realizes you’re now seated by yourself.

“Where’s um… the guy,” she turns to the boy she came here to meet to ask, “your friend, what was his name?”

The boy who had thrown you a confused look earlier, adopts the look once again as he butts in to answer, “that guy wasn’t our friend.”

You and your friends let out matching sounds of confusion before you speak, “what do you mean he wasn’t your friend?”

“Yeah no,” he shakes his head as he sips his drink, “said he was friends with you guys but took a separate car and got here before you.”

You turn to look at your friend with a concerned look pulling on your features, but the smile she wears fogs your brain, “this club is kind of weird right?” she asks, a dazed laugh following the words.

“Yeah weird,” something about the words feels like cotton in your mouth. You reach for the glass she placed in front of you, hoping that just a sip of alcohol will help with the mixing emotions in your chest when she starts to poke at the skin of your chest.

“Hey, when did you get that scar on your collar bone?”

[dilly-oh]

Sleep With Me

Kakashi is woken up from a dead sleep at three in the morning by an urgent text from Genma. 

EMERGENCY!!, it says. He quickly sits up, a spike of panic shocking him fully awake as he’s dosed with adrenaline. He stares at his phone, anxiously waiting for the flashing dots to spell out: WE NEED CONDOMS, STAT!

Fucking Genma. He lies back down. 

Another text. YOU OWE ME FOR WATCHING THE DOGS.

...Fucking Genma. Kakashi gets up.

GET A BOX OF CONDOMS, Genma adds as Kakashi tugs on his boots. He shudders at the reasoning behind it. What the hell were he and Raido up to at three in the fucking morning, a sex marathon? Were they trying for the world record? Whatever, he just needs to stumble down the street to one of the nearby convenience stores and buy a box of condoms. Genma lives a few floors down so he can drop them off at the door before crawling back up the stairs and collapsing into his bed. His wonderfully soft, cozy bed.

He hopes it’ll still be warm by the time he gets back. 

It’s way past midnight and all the respectable convenience stores are closed, so Kakashi has to bite the bullet and settle on the least-skuzzy of all the skuzzy 24-hour shops, the one on the corner with the cracked window and perpetual smell of urine. There’s a hobo by the dumpster outside, but he’s busy arguing with a pigeon so Kakashi is able to sidle around him and approach the front entrance, a bell tinkling rather sadly above his head. The hum of the fluorescent lights should be added to the list of known torture methods, and Kakashi does his best to ignore the incessant buzz as he walks along the poorly-lit aisles, trying to find the item in question so he can leave before he catches something.

The condom section of this store is disturbingly well-stocked, and Kakashi spends a good five minutes uncertain on which brand and variety to buy. He has an internal debate on whether to buy ‘ribbed’ or ‘studded’, unsure of the difference or which Raido would prefer. He finally settles on one of the flavored variety, cherry, because who doesn’t like cherries, right? He grabs the box and heads to the front.

Standing in line with the other half-awake zombies, Kakashi yawns, his jaw creaking spectacularly. It really is late and he’s looking forward to kicking down Genma’s door, whipping the box of condoms at him, turning his phone off, and going the fuck back to sleep. He peeks impatiently over the shoulder of the man in front of him to see how close he is to the register-

Oh. God. Oh GOD.

The cashier is hot. He’s smoking hot and Kakashi hasn’t brushed his hair all day and has bad breath and bags under his eyes and a box of condoms in his hands.

OH GOD.

Long, luscious hair pulled back into a low ponytail, dark eyes with even darker lashes, and that TAN. Is it natural? Is he that toasty…all over? Fuck, he can see muscles flexing beneath his shirt when he moves, he’s fucking ripped. Abort. ABORT. There is absolutely no way Kakashi is going to greet this ethereal being of his wicked fantasies with a box of fucking condoms in his hands. But it’s already too late, the customer in front has been dealt with and the hot cashier has spotted him next in line and is waving him over, fuck, SHIT, he’s screwed. He’s made eye contact, there’s no backing out of this now. Fight or flight instincts take over, and Kakashi isn’t about to be arrested for stealing a box of condoms. Taking a deep breath, he strides forward with all the confidence he can muster and slaps the box of jumbo-sized, cherry-flavored condoms onto the counter, refusing to show any hint of shame.

The cashier (his name-tag reads ‘Iruka’ and is a million times hotter up close) looks down at the box, blinks, and looks back up at him.

“…So who are you buying these for?”

Kakashi’s brain shorts out for a moment.

Did he just… He wonders, his sleep-deprived brain slow in catching the veiled insult. Aloud, he answers, “I…they…they’re…for me. To wear when I- you know. With...you know.” He trails off lamely, wondering if he should attempt to elaborate more or just die right here.

“I’d rather not, actually.” ‘Iruka’ eyes him for another beat, then picks up the box, frowning at it. “You know, I’m pretty sure we have extra small on the shelf back there, too,” he suggests. “Might be a snugger fit.”

“No, thank you,” Kakashi replies, struggling to maintain a modicum of politeness. Because, you know, hot cashier. Though he is being a bit of a dick.

“Alright, just remember there’s a thirty-day return policy. I’m sure you’ll be needing it.”

Okay, scratch that. He’s being a huge dick.

If this guy wasn’t such a fox I’d pop him one, Kakashi thinks to himself, fuming inwardly. …Instead of popping one-

Finally moving on, Iruka swipes the box over the scanner with no reaction.

“Huh.” He frowns and tries again. Still no beep. “That’s funny. Just a sec.” He leans over towards a small, black object-

Oh God. Please no.

“PRICE CHECK ON THE JUMBO-SIZED CONDOMS,” Iruka says into the microphone, his distorted voice blaring through the store for all to hear. “CHERRY FLAVORED-”

Kakashi lunges forward and grabs the mic, the feed cutting off with a high-pitched squeal.

“Do you really have to-” he hisses out.

“If you want your cough-syrup flavored DICK, YES,” Iruka hisses back, yanking the microphone away from him.

“Hey, I like cherry!”

“Cherry is disgusting. Your opinion doesn’t matter.”

“Okay, dude, you’re being really rude to me for no reason-”

“No reason?!” The cashier all but bares his teeth at him. “I could feel you eyeing me from across the store! Don’t you think I get enough of that from the rest of the creeps?”

...He has a point there. 

“Look, I’m sorry, it’s not like I asked for your number-”

“Good, because the only numbers you’re getting from me is on your receipt,” Iruka snaps, shoving his purchase in a plastic bag. “That’ll be $19.86.”

“Okay, fine, Christ,” Kakashi takes out a twenty and whips it at his head. “Keep the change.” He snatches up the condoms and storms out of the store. The hobo is still there by the dumpster, babbling on. Kakashi stops, fishes in his pocket for a moment, and hands the man a five.

“Here, have a better night than me,” he bites out. The hobo gasps with delight as he takes the crumpled bill, eyes going wide.

“We feast tonight, Fitzgerald!” he cackles, grinning at the pigeon, which is now perched on his knee and cooing.

Kakashi starts down the street, the bag of condoms bumping against his knee with every angry stride.

“Hey!” A voice barks out from behind him, but he ignores it, intent on sulking. “Hey, you! Cherry dick!” Kakashi stops and looks back.

The hot cashier is running down the road after him, breath steaming in the night. He catches up, panting lightly, his cheeks flushed from the cold as much as the run. He glances up to meet Kakashi’s gaze. 

“…Hey,” Iruka says quietly, flashing him an apologetic look before dropping his eyes to the ground. “Um.” He fiddles with the zipper on his jacket for a moment. “I just got off, and… look, man, I’m sorry about back there. I didn’t mean to be such an asshole. It’s just…I was late this morning cuz my car wouldn’t start, and then my stupid co-worker ditched me so I had to work a double shift, and when I’m tired I get bitchy. Like...real bitchy. I’m...really sorry.” He groans in exhaustion, reaching up to free his hair from its constricting ponytail, scrubbing his scalp with relief. It’s an endearing action that cools Kakashi’s irritation and heats up other things. “I mean, it’s past midnight, for God’s sake. Who’s still up at this hour? I just wanna go home and pass the fuck out in bed.”

Kakashi knows exactly what that’s like.

“I’ve been there,” he says. “It’s fine. Sorry for...ogling you.”

“S’okay.” Iruka looks up at him, hopeful and shy. “Listen. Maybe we could…try this again? During the daytime, when we’re both fully rested?”

“Sounds like a great idea,” Kakashi replies, his voice completely calm while his brain is a litany of high-pitched screeches.

“Yeah?” Iruka’s whole face lights up, and holy FUCK he’s a billion times hotter when he’s smiling. Dear God. How is he going to survive this? He'll probably die when he sees him in the light of day. “Are you free tomorrow? For lunch?”

“Make it a late lunch,” Kakashi agrees, nodding. “I’ll probably sleep in.”

“God, me too,” Iruka snorts, and even that’s hot. “There’s this nice cafe that- oh, wait.” His face drops. “Those, um, cough-syrup- I mean, cherry-flavored condoms…are they for… anyone special?”

Anyone special? What is he talking abo- Oh. Ohhhh.

“They aren’t for me,” Kakashi explains quickly. “I was...there isn’t…I’m not…” He shrugs helplessly. “I’m just doing a favor for a friend.”

“...A friend who needs a box of condoms at three in the morning?”

“Don’t ask.”

“I won’t.” Iruka lets out a long sigh and rubs his eyes wearily. “Anyway, I need to be heading home. Ugh, it’s gonna take, like, an hour to walk back to my apartment, none of the buses run this late and I don’t have the cash for a cab. Maybe if I hurry I can-”

“Sleep with me,” Kakashi blurts out before he can stop himself. He can almost see Iruka’s hackles go up. “I mean, like, actual sleeping, no sex stuff. Not that I wouldn’t want to do that with you, you’re fucking gorgeous, it’s just I’m way too tired-” He cuts off his babbling, unsettled by Iruka’s stoney silence. “I’m just saying I live, like, five minutes away and I thought since it’s closer, maybe you’d appreciate-” Iruka’s still not talking. He’s probably about to kick Kakashi in the dick and run. “I, uh, promise I’m not an ax murderer or anything. You can take a pic of me and send it to your friends to let them know you’re sleeping with me-”

“I’m sure they won’t at all take that the wrong way,” Iruka states, finally speaking. He studies Kakashi for a moment longer. “...Yeah okay I’ll sleep with you. My standards are low enough right now.” He pauses to snicker. “Look at me, sleeping with a guy whose name I don’t even know. It’s like college all over again.”

“Oh, sorry. I’m Kakashi.”

“Iruka.”

“I know, I saw your name-tag. So, wait. You’re not worried I’ll try something?” he asks cautiously. Iruka scoffs.

“I know jiu-jitsu. Touch me and I’ll throw you through a wall.” 

That would explain the muscles. And Kakashi’s desire to be pinned by him. 

“I have eight dogs,” he warns.

“They’ll make excellent feet-warmers,” Iruka says dismissively. “Do you have good pillows? I’m a stickler for good pillows, I need the support for my neck, otherwise I get stiff shoulders.”

“I have a couple memory foam ones, plus a down comforter and some quilts-”

“Oh God, yes, talk dirty to me.”

“Anyway, I get the bed, you can have the couch.”

“Screw you, I just worked a double shift. I get the bed.”

“It smells like wet dog.”

“I babysit a five-year old. I’ve smelled worse.”

“Okay, fine. We share the bed, but I get the right side.”

“That’s not fair, I want the right side.”

“You can have the right side if you cook us breakfast tomorrow. Or lunch, rather. I’m not getting up till noon.”

“I’ll cook, but you have to clean up. Deal?”

“Deal.”

They shake on it, firmly sealing the agreement, and head off down the road together.

They don’t let go.

(Written for @kakairu-fest Nine Weeks of Summer, Week Two Prompt: Shop AU)

[littlespoonevan]

Hi! I love your fics so much, they're so cute!!! I was wondering if you could write about Mickey's reaction to Ian's Monica tattoo and/or his black hair in prison? Hope you have a great day!

first of all, thank you :’)) and askdjlhf god i am so wEAK for anything involving their prison reunion!!! this kind of devolved from hair talk to relationship talk in the middle lmao but hopefully you still like it!!

(also just a head’s up: i’m not gonna be accepting anymore prompts at the moment bc i really want to clear out the ones i already have so i can start on my long fic. i hope people don’t mind!!!)

*

Ian had really believed he’d never see Mickey again.Ian had really believed prison would be the end of him. Ian had really believeda lot of things until his cell door had opened and Mickey Milkovich was suddenlystanding in front of him, here to save him from himself one last time.

After the initial reunion – the delicate kiss thathad turned hurried until Mickey reluctantly reminded him the window to theircell wasn’t exactly one-sided – they stay on Mickey’s bunk. To be honest, thisposition is no less compromising than what they’d been doing ten minutes agobut Ian isn’t quite prepared to have Mickey out of his reach just yet. Mickey’shalf-sitting, half-laying down as he sticks to his original spot leaningagainst the pillow while Ian sits slouched with his back against the wall andhis right leg pressed up against Mickey’s.

“The fuck is with all this anyway?” Mickey asks whenthere’s a momentary lull in their conversation, hand reaching up to scrubthrough Ian’s hair.

“Oh.” Ian blushes and ducks his head to stare down athis hands. “Guess I didn’t wanna draw attention to myself.”

Mickey raises his eyebrows and his mouth curves up ina smile and it’s such a familiar look Ian feels like fucking crying. He neverthought he’d see Mickey look like that again.

“You know your eyebrows don’t really match your hair,”Mickey comments then, snickering when Ian hits his leg half-heartedly.

“You got a better idea?” Ian grumbles, leaning hishead back against the wall to meet Mickey’s gaze.

“Yeah, don’t get fuckin’ arrested for blowing up avan.”

Ian winces, feeling shame burn through him, but thenMickey’s reaching out and taking his hand. He runs his thumb over the skin ofIan’s knuckles and Ian watches Mickey watch their hands for a minute.

“What the fuck happened, Ian?” Mickey asks softly,finally raising his gaze to meet Ian’s.

Ian shrugs uncomfortably and squeezes Mickey’s handtight in his own to ground himself. “Stopped taking my meds,” he admits quietly.“No one really noticed until it was too late, I guess.”

“What d’you mean no one noticed?” Mickey asks and helooks pissed but not at Ian, he doesn’t think.

Ian shrugs again. “I guess I seemed okay for the mostpart and people had other shit going on. The whole Gay Jesus thing, it gotoutta control pretty quickly.”

“What about that guy you were seeing?” Mickey askssuddenly and Ian hates the reminder of Trevor, hates that Mickey even had toknow about him.

“He’d never seen me manic before,” Ian says. “Guesshe didn’t know what signs to look for.”

“I didn’tknow what signs to look for,” Mickey snaps – again, he doesn’t direct it at Ianbut more the situation at large. “Fuck, you weren’t even diagnosed back then,there was no fuckin’ medication for you to be taking and I knew something waswrong. I knew-“

Mickey cuts himself off abruptly, huffing out afrustrated breath and Ian squeezes his hand again, tugging on it just a bit toget Mickey to look at him.

“You would’ve known this time too,” Ian murmurs. “Iknow you would’ve. It’s okay, it’s my fault you weren’t there. Not yours.”

Mickey doesn’t argue with him or disagree, just sitsup a little straighter and moves himself closer into Ian’s space. “You feelokay now?”

Ian nods earnestly. “I’m stable,” he promises. “Haven’tmissed a dose since I sorted my shit out.”

“Good,” Mickey replies, low and half-mumbled.

“And for what it’s worth,” Ian continues, leaningforward to bump his forehead against Mickey’s before returning to his originalspot. “Me and Trevor are done. I tried to make myself want him again after-after you. But it didn’t really work. My heart wasn’t in it.”

Mickey looks at him, eyes darting all over Ian’s facelike he’s trying to read him for answers. Ian lets him look, drinks in thesight of Mickey before him and reminds himself this is real.

“We should talk about it,” Mickey says finally, eyesflitting to their hands and back up again. “Just- we can wait a couple ofhours.”

Ian nods and smiles because he gets it. They have amountain of shit to work through, probably as far back as the second timeMickey got out of juvie, if they’re being honest, and he knows being stuck in thesame room for the foreseeable future is the perfect excuse to finally do it.But…they just got each other back. And it seems like Mickey wants to bask inthe reunion just as much as he does.

“How’d you find out about me anyway?” Ian asks becausehe hasn’t yet and while Mickey’s always seemed to have a sixth sense aboutknowing when Ian’s in trouble and always seems to show up at exactly the righttime, this one feels a little beyond the realm of possibility.

Mickey shrugs and this time he’s the one who looksembarrassed. “Some kid in Mexico had a shirt with your face on it. I asked himabout it.”

Ian can’t believe that. Can’t believe Mickey wouldrisk everything – the new life he’d built, his freedom, his safety – just to come back here and bewith Ian. But he supposes he should. Back in the early days all Ian had wantedwas some kind of proof that Mickey loved him, that he wanted to stay. Now- thisis quite possibly the biggest love declaration he could’ve made.

“We can talk about that shit later too,” Mickey saysthen, brushing Ian’s thoughts away with a wave of his hand. “What we reallyneed to discuss now,” he continues, hand snaking up the back of Ian’s neckuntil his fingers are tangled in Ian’s hair, “is what the fuck we’re gonna doabout your hair.”

Ian barks out a laugh. “You miss the red?”

Mickey gives him an exasperated look that’s verypointedly not a denial. “You might have to go back to your buzzcut days, army.”

Ian grins at the old nickname and doesn’t protestwhen Mickey uses the hand on the back of his head to guide him closer.

“But then you can’t put your hands in my hair,” Ianpoints out teasingly. Tugging on Ian’s hair has always been one of Mickey’sweaknesses and judging by the look on his face, it still is.

Mickey seems to weigh his options for a moment beforehis nods decisively. “I can deal for a few weeks.”

Ian’s grin is so wide he thinks his face is going tosplit in two as he shakes his head. “You’re so full of shit.”

Mickey scoffs. “So I gotta type, sue me.” He’ssmirking at Ian now, fingers massaging the back of Ian’s scalp and it’s just-it’s the combination of the teasing and the comfort. It’s everything Ian needsand exactly what makes him lean in to kiss Mickey again, current environment bedamned.

Mickey kisses him back anyway, soft and sweet, andlets his forehead linger against Ian’s for a moment when they break apart.

They’re both quiet for a beat but then Mickey leansback. “Seriously though, first thing in the morning. We’re getting you a razor.”

Ian laughs and thinks the next two years of his lifesuddenly sound a lot more bearable.

*

[blacktotheblueside]

(Ex) Bobby

Summary: you just ready for bobby tah GO!!!! But he fine so you don’t know...

I was an actress that was challenging myself, I was obsessed with Korean dramas and wanted to play a part in one so my management brought me to South Korea around 3 years ago and in those years I was in a few kdramas, movies and in a public relationship with iKon’s one and only bobby. We’re currently broken up and it has just been released by none other than dispatch themselves, I’m sat with my management discussing how I’m gonna be bombarded with questions about my breakup and how I should handle it. I’m in a new drama as the main female lead and I’m going to be doing a ton of interviews he’s bound to be mentioned in a few.

I sigh as my team lay advice and all sorts. I’m very grateful I’ve been given this opportunity to act in Korea, I learnt the language when I first came and been working on it ever since hence why now I get more parts, this is the first time in one of the main characters. I just wanna focus on work but even while we’re broken up bobby still finds a way to be in my life.

~~~~

It’s 4am and my alarm goes off, I have sooo much schedules today. I don’t even try and dose off again like usual, I jump off the bed and get showered before my stylist arrives to dress me for the day...hair dressers, make up artist all that!

I’m dressed in a white baggy tee waiting for *KnockKnockKnock* they’re here.

We went with fresh faced makeup and my curly hair in a sleek low bun. For my outfit I’m wearing black skinny fit trousers and a white see through dress shirt, it’s baggy and it’s hanging off my shoulders teamed with a white bralette, yellow pump heels and yellow studs.

<My Schedule>

Inkigayo actor special mc w/ seo kang jun

Hello counsellor

Happy together foreigners working in korean entrainment

That’s all for today, I’m glad it was all shows where I won’t have to speak about bobby, all fun chatting.

~~~ Inkigayo ~~~

I walk through the corridor to get to my dressing room. I can speak korean but I still get so nervous before a show, I hate messing up! I have to get changed into something less formal, I go with a white dungaree dress with a pink off the shoulder top and pink high top converse. A long glittery chain for a belt and have my curls styled half up in a pony tail and the rest down my back.

I have 10 minutes left so I start making my way to the stage. I say hi at least 100 times on my way no joke, I bump into BTS on the way as the have a new comeback, I remained so calm I’m proud! I see kang Jun and we start chatting, we’ve met before at award shows and other tv shows, he tells me to not be scared and we head out and the crowd cheers!

We finish the show smoothly making me wonder why I was nervous to start with. I say bye to kang Jun and all the acts I see on my way out, bangtan we’re not there so I was a little disappointed I’m a huge fan of them. Next time I guess.

I’ve changed back into my first outfit and I’m on the way to my next schedule... I eat a famous inkigayo sandwich in the car while getting my hair re done and my make up touched up.

~~~ hello counsellor ~~~

I arrive just in time to say hi to all the hosts and guest...we make our way onto the set.

I’m a guest along with jay park and Jeonghan and scoups from svt. The boys show some of there new song. As for me they play a snippet of my new drama. They compliment my Korean a few times and ask about how I came over and started acting here.

Hello counsellor was so fun to shoot I got to role play with jay park on how to overcome an angry wife, I laughed and nearly even cried.

The show ends and I make my way to the car again. I change in the car thank God for tinted windows! I change into dark brown leather skirt and a light brown t shirt tucked in, with khaki sandal heels and earrings. My hair is in a high ponytail with my baby hairs styled (obviously by me)

~~~ happy together ~~~

This is the one I’m more excited for! I’ve always wanted to come on here. I make my way to my dressing room and now I’m already dressed and ready to go I’ve got time to kill, I am going out on a full stomach! I’m on my phone while I’m walking, my Social media all blowing up! I click on twitter to see my mentions all filled with articles of bobby.... curiosity gets the better of me, I see the headline “NETIZENS ARE QUESTIONING WHETHER iKON’S BOBBY AND ACTRESS Y/N ARE REALLY BROKEN UP AFTER BOBBY POSTS PHOTO OF A WOMAN’S SHADOW CAPTIONED WITH Y/N’S MOST FAMOUS LINE.”

I’m in the dressing room and I sit straight down before I fall or even worse get snapped looking at this!

I click the “read more” button and start skimming the article.

The picture is definitely me....what is he doing?! It was when we went on a date late at night near Han river, he snapped my shadow on the floor and the caption written in korean “it’s a butterfly”... omg it was a line from a movie I did, it was one of the highlights of the film as it was the tearjerker.

I don’t have time for this. My manager walks towards me and sits down ‘judging by your face you’ve seen the article.... don’t pay attention! Just go out there and pretend you’ve seen nothing’ he states. I nod slowly and sit there in silence, we broke up like nearly a month ago... why would he post this after not even trying to talk to me. Boys are so weird! I start playing games on my phone to take my mind off this distraction. I look at the time and see if I still have time for a snack bc of nerves, I don’t so I make my way to the couches. I stop and bow to the whole cast and sit on the seat, we’re all making small talk till it starts. In the interview they ask us foreigners about how we first came to Korea, how we learnt the language and first impressions of Korea when we first came. Another black person famous in Korea, Sam from Ghana was there we had so much in common. I laughed so much and we all had so much fun.

We spoke a bit about our work and I explained what my new drama was about and my character. We watched a little snippet again and some bloopers.

‘So y/n we hear you’re now single’ one of the hosts ask. Oh no....ok I’ve got this ‘yeah i am’ I smile acting like this isn’t bothering me at all. ‘Was that your first time dating a korean man?’ I nodded ‘it was’

Oohs and ahhs came from them all ‘so hows it different to guys back home?’ I think for a little bit ‘to be honest there’s not a lot of difference just the language difference I guess’ I say calmly. They nodded in agreement ‘were there any difficulties with the language barrier?’ I sigh to show them how exhausted I was in the beginning ‘oh yes, I couldn’t speak a lot of korean back when we first met. He could speak English though so I was good! But when I met his friends and family....’ I trail off a bit thinking about those times, No focus! ‘I was forced to speak so bit by bit I got better so it was awkward at first but it paid off in the end.... free korean lessons’ i say content with my answer. Sam pipes in ‘oh my I spent so much on korean lessons before I got into my first relationship!’ ‘Should’ve got in a relationship quicker’ I reply. We all laughed at his shocked face.

The show ends with a game where we guess a catchphrase by what the artist is drawing.

After the show me and Sam exchange numbers, he’s too funny to not have as a friend.

~~~~

I’m done for the day, I tell my manager I need food or else I’m going to collapse. We get pizza and fries, they drop me off home and I get undressed and ready for bed. I have a day off tomorrow so I planned to stay up late and watch my favourite shows but I’m exhausted. I hear my phone go off and it’s an unfamiliar number.... I pick up ‘hello?’ I hear breathing and just as I’m about to say hello again ‘hey y/n....’ bobby! After being together for so long I know his voice! After we broke up I blocked his number and got back to work... he probably changed it. ‘Hello?!’ Bobby says trying to see if I’m still there. ‘Bobby... what do you want?’ I get straight to the point, he sighs ‘y/n don’t...please... I just wanna see how you are! I watched you today on inkigayo’ is he being foreal? Calling as if we’re best friends catching up at the end of the day. ‘Bobby is there something you want?’ I’m tired ‘I-‘ I cut him off ‘I saw your Ig post, what was that for?’ I question. All I heard was silence, I had to pull the phone to my face so I could see whether the phone call had disconnected.

‘I wanted to talk to you...’ he started I stayed quiet he takes a deep breath ‘y/n I’m not gonna lie and say that this break up has been easy...’ oh no ‘...it really hasn’t! I just want you to give me...’ here he comes!!! ‘...one more chance’ he said it. I don’t know what to do, of course I still love him but we just to in love... so in love that we were just distracting each other from our jobs. ‘I... don’t think that’s the best option right now b’ I say quietly, I’m angry at him for ignoring me for so long and now he wants to pop up in his own time, when it’s convenient for him. ‘...I’m so busy these days... I don’t think I can handle a boyfriend, an ex at that.... right at this moment’ he sighs again, ‘you don’t think I’m busy too?’ He’s frustrated and quite frankly I don’t care ‘Don’t start with me bobby, you broke up with me, ignored me for how long and NOW you want me back?’ I state the facts to him. He groans ‘I know! And it was stupid of me, I made a dumb decision on impulse... and now I regret it every damn day!’

I re ask him ‘why did you upload that picture?’ ‘Because I wanted you to see it and the whole world to see that I’m not giving up on you, on our relationship! I don’t want anyone else’ my heart flutters a little and I hate him and me for being so weak to his sweet words.

‘I’ll think about it’ I tell him. ‘Don’t run and hide from me y/n!’ He says something I was sure I was gonna do ‘I won’t, I just need some time... this is too much for me’

‘I seen the trailer for your new drama.... I’ve been keeping up with you in the media, I’m proud of you’ I hear his smile through his words. I’ve been keeping up with him too, I won’t tell him that though ‘Thanks’ I whisper. After a few moments of silence ‘I’ll let you get to sleep now.... but don’t forget me, take everything I said into consideration.... I really want you back here with me baby’ omg I just want to forget everything and tell him to come here right this minute but that would be dumb. I just settle for a simple ‘ok’ we exchange good nights and I fall asleep really thinking about what’d it be like if we did get back together or were we better off separated.

Part 2 coming soon (black people timing)

[justjessame]

If Only Someone Looked At Me Like They Look At Guns 10

I contemplated rushing back up the stairs while their backs were still to me, but that last step squeaked, just as I turned. Fuck. I closed my eyes, hoping no one heard, after all they were locked in an embrace with their mom.

“Tessa.” My name, in unison again. Damn it. “Darlin’ dat you?” Connor finished.

I opened my eyes and wished that I’d had the forethought to throw on a robe over the tight nightgown I was wearing. Once they focused on ALL of me, they’d know. Shit. “Connor,” I turned around and felt my breath leave me. “Murphy.” My face crumpled and I felt so overcome with emotions that I sobbed. Damn hormones.

They rushed forward and wrapped their arms around me. Hushing me, clearly too worried about my sudden outburst than me clearly visible bump, they held me and kissed my hair. Their scent was all around me, cigarettes and that soapy smell, but then it was overwhelming and I pulled harshly away and ran to the bathroom. The vomit spewed from me as soon as I had the toilet seat up. I felt them behind me and couldn’t even find it in me to care. This was all due to their demon spawn after all.

“Tessa?” Murphy whispered, the worry heavy in his voice.

“Yer ok?” Connor asked, his brother’s worry reflected in his own tone.

Once everything was gone, and I mean everything, I flushed the toilet and rose to my feet. Moving to the sink, I grabbed the toothbrush that had a sister in every available room in the house. Carefully brushing my teeth, I waited them out. I felt them leave the doorway and sighed, spitting the toothpaste out and rinsing my mouth. It was time for a pep talk to the MacManus nightmares I was carrying.

“Listen up, kiddos, your daddies are home.” I whispered, cradling my small bump in my hands. “So calm the fuck down, would ya?”

I could hear them talking to their mother as I left the bathroom. I hovered out of sight, wanting to be a coward and let Annabelle tell them. “It’s ‘er secret ter tell.” I heard the woman I’d come to love telling them. Damn it, she wasn’t going to throw me a bone. “She’ll tell ya when she wants ter.”

I stepped out from my hiding spot. My arms were crossed over my chest, which was growing almost as rapidly as my bump. “I didn’t get the heads up you were heading home.” I said, breaking up the clearly tense atmosphere in the kitchen. I noticed that Annabelle had made me a cup of green tea, she knew that it helped after one of my episodes.

“Couldn tell ya.” Connor said, as I took my seat at the table.

“Couldn tell anyone.” Murphy agreed, sitting in the chair to my right. Connor took the one at my left and Annabelle sat across from me. “Are ya sick, Tess?”

I chuckled, and glanced at Annabelle who was smiling back at me. “Only sometimes.” I answered, waiting to see how truly unobservant the two of them were. “Just when something is too smelly to deal with.” Annabelle laughed at that one.

“Mudder,” Connor admonished. “Tisn’t funny. She should see a doctor.”

Now I laughed, hard. “I have.” I answered, and looked up to see the two of them staring at me like they had when I was delirious from exhaustion. “Don’t worry, it’ll pass in about five months.” Annabelle caught my eye and we shared another fit of giggles.

“Damn it, women.” Connor growled, glaring between us.

Murphy’s glare came next. “Dis isn’t funny.”

I took one of each of their hands in mine. “No, it isn’t.” I agreed, sobering.

“Naught at all,” Annabelle agreed, taking their other hands in hers.

I looked at her and she gave me a nod. “I’m pregnant, boys.” They paled, the both of them, and I was worried for a moment that they’d faint. Annabelle shook her head at me and I could tell that she wanted me to wait.

“Pregnant?” They breathed together.

“Tessa,” Connor whispered, clutching at my hand.

“Is it only da one?” Murphy finished, drawing my attention back to him.

I shook my head and their hands tightened on mine and I imagine their mom’s. “Twins.” I answered as their focus held on me.

Annabelle released their hands and stood. “‘M goin’ ta bed.” She announced and kissed each of us on the head as she passed. “‘Ave a good night.” And she chuckled as she made her way to her room.

“Let’s get ya ready fer bed, Tessa.” Murphy said, voice thick.

“I’ll jus lock up.” Connor answered, moving to the door.

Murphy tugged me to my feet and finally gazed on the obvious bump. Before he could take me upstairs, his hands fell to my bump. And then he was kneeling in front of me, tugging up my nightshirt, and kissing the swell. Connor had come back and joined him in kneeling before me. His hands replaced Murphy’s and then his lips were kissing the bump.

“Our babies.” Murphy whispered, rising to his feet and finally kissing me.

“Aye,” Connor agreed, standing on the other side of me and asking for his own kiss. “My tern, Tessa.” He whispered, kissing me softly.

“Ah, Tess, we’ve missed ya.” Murphy’s voice, quiet and low, the heat of it against my shoulder. And it was just like that first night with them, only this time, they carried me together upstairs and into OUR room.

THE NEXT MORNING

“Dese beds are smaller dan I remember.” Connor groaned, clutching me to him, back to his front as always.

I giggled as Murphy glared at the sunlight shining in the windows. “‘Nd de curtains don do shit against da sun.”

Another round of giggles bubbled from me as Murphy’s skin pressed against my front. “You two are ridiculous.” I said, kissing Murphy then Connor. “You’re free, and we’ve put two beds together to make this one, the sun’s shining because you’re home. Stop bitching.” I sat up and felt the two of them follow suit. I was naked. Of course I was, since they were home, clothing would become redundant in our bedroom.

After many kisses, a fight over the shower (between them, not me, of course), throwing on clothes, I made my way downstairs. Annabelle was cooking, I could hear it so I stopped on the stairs.

“Do nah worry, tis all babe approved food.” She shouted, hearing that damn stair moan no doubt. I laughed and joined her. “Dose babes disappoint der nanna.” She gave a mock glare at my bump.

“I’m sure once they’re here, they’ll love the local cuisine.” I said, smoothing her fears. “For now, they’re inside me, and since I’m not a fan-”

She rolled her eyes at me and chuckled. Handing me a cup of tea, she glanced upwards. “Where are dem lads o’ mine?” She asked, then eyes twinkling she looked down at me. “Wear ‘em out did ya?”

I choked on my sip of tea. Sputtering and hearing her laugh, I cleaned up the mess I made. “You are incorrigible.” I accused, and smirked at her. “And, no I didn’t. I’m an expectant mother, haven’t you noticed?”

“Aye, and ‘ow’d yer become one?” She shot back. “Gonna ‘aveta buy some earplugs.” She shook her head and I felt my blush burn. “Dere it is. Knew I’d get one outta ya.”

I shook my head with restrained laughter. “You’re terrible. Honestly, Annabelle!”

“Wat’s goin’ on in ‘ere?” Connor asked, finished his hard one first shower I saw.

“Your mother is terrorizing me.” I tattled, feeling the heat of his body against the back of my chair. His hands were on my shoulders, and I tilted my head back and his lips met mine. “She’s insinuating that we were loud last night.” I said when he pulled away.

“Dat wasn’t us.” Murphy offered, coming into the room moments after his brother and kneeling at my right to get his own kiss.

I looked up at Annabelle in triumph, until the two of them threw me under the bus. “Dat was ‘er, Mudder.” They were pointing at me. The assholes. My triumph shot low, I pinched my lips as the laughter finally took over me.

“You all suck.” I said, drinking my now tepid tea. “First the babies that hate the smell of EVERYTHING.” I glared briefly at my stomach. “ Then a grandma who mocks a poor first time mother.” I shook my head at Annabelle. “And the fathers? Don’t get me started.” I said as the two of them took their seats at the table.

“Don be like dat,” Murphy said, taking my hand.

Connor took the other. “Dat’s right. We love ya.”

“We all love ya,” Annabelle interjected, filling plates with the food she’d made. “Even if ya ‘ave da taste buds of a wee babe.” She smiled down at me.

“I know,” I said, smiling at all of them. “But the hormones, ugh.” I ran my hand over my bump. “I never know what’s going to make me laugh, what’s going to make me cry, and what’s going to make me throw up.”

“We’re ‘ere now, Tess.” Connor reminded me.

“Yer not alone,” Murphy gave me their promise.

Annabelle snorted. “And wha was I?” She asked, giving each of us a plate. “She weren’t alone before, ya ninnies.” She sat with her own. “She needs comfortin’. She needs less worry.” She shot pointed looks at her sons. “She needs ter know yer nah ‘eadin’ back ter the life.”

I felt the two of them talking to one another and so did she. She held my focus as they discussed their next steps.

Murphy and Connor sighed. “We only got released cause of Smecker.” Connor admitted.

“‘E made good on keepin’ us on da outside.” Murphy agreed.

I nodded, of course, I’d read about Smecker. He was their help on the inside. An FBI agent who kept them free before. I’d thought he’d died. “I understand,” I whispered, biting into my toast.

“No, ya don.” Murphy answered. Shaking his head and forcing me and his mother to keep our attention on the twins.

“‘Da deal is we gotta keep workin’, but not for a bit.” Connor replied, taking a bite of his own food.

Murphy smiled, reassuring me. “Las time took eight years to get us back.”

That was true, I thought. It was what brought them into my life. I felt Connor’s hand on mine again.

“We’re ‘ere, and we plan on bein’ ‘ere fer dem.” He gestured to my bump. “And fer ya.”

Annabelle nodded, clearly approving of this new plan for our lives. She glanced at the clock. “Tessa? Do ya work today?” It was growing close for my usual time.

I shook my head. “No, the owner saw how active the babies were yesterday and gave me today off.” I smiled at how kind the people were here. “He said to let him know if I need more.”

The boys were watching us. “Ya could quit now.” Connor offered.

I smiled. “I don’t have to work at all, Connor.” I remembered the more than fair price I’d gotten for my store, and the ease of selling off other non-essentials. I had more cash than I needed for some time.

“So why are ya?” Murphy asked, eating his own breakfast, but as laser focused as his brother.

“Been askin’ ‘er the same ting since she started.” Annabelle offered. I rolled my eyes at the three of them.

“I like to work.” I said, shaking my head. “It gets me out and around people.”

“Tis gettin’ harder tho, isn’t it?” Connor asked, his hand still holding mine.

I sighed, yes, it was. And I wasn’t even halfway through my pregnancy. “What would I do if I didn’t work?” I asked, glancing at the three of them.

“Could find us a house.” Murphy replied, shrugging his shoulder.

“Den yer could spend da time fixin’ it fer da babies.” Annabelle agreed, clearly warming to the idea.

“A place nearby, but wit more room.” Connor offered, and I was thinking they’d been discussing this without me, but when?

I sat back, and studied the three of them. “Where is it?” I knew that they’d come up with this together, maybe not with the knowledge of my pregnancy, but definitely a set up.

“Where’s what?” Connor asked too innocently to be believable.

I raised an eyebrow and Murphy soothed me with his confession. Truly my favorite twin. “We jus thot when we got out, dat we’d want our own place wit ya.”

I shook my head and chuckled. I was adding two more to this family of goofballs. “So?” I asked, “Where is it?”

“Go get dressed,” Connor replied with a smile.

“We’ll take ya when yer ready.” Annabelle agreed with her own grin.

[lady-olive-oil]

Chapter 3

|| Characters || Intro || Ch 1 || Ch 2 || Ch 3

A/N: Hey everybody!! So here’s the next installment of Brown Sugah Baby. The events in this story are complete imagination, and I don’t own the characters of BP. Nor do I own the Divine Nine; Southern University or the Fabulous Dancing Dolls, I only own the OCs. Thank you for reading and stay tuned for more!

Word Count: 2,506 [had to get in the details hunny]

Warnings: nothing really besides harsh banter.

Tag Squad: @maddiestundentwritergaines || @destinio1 (I need extra help so gotta tag my girls) @designerwriterchic @terrablaze514

[let me know if you’s like to be apart of the tag squad]

It was another scorching humid day at Southern University, and everyone had their hands full. Tailgating, getting the team ready for the game, the band tuning their instruments for the halftime show, the majorette team stretching and making sure the speakers were loud enough. The whole campus was on fire about the homecoming game against Alabama. One thing's for sure though, M’Baku could not focus for the life of him.

“Dude. You playin or not?” Erik nudged his teammate to get him out of the trance he was in.

“Huh? Uh y-yeah. Sorry man, I was just distracted. Let’s play.” Getting refocused on the plays for the game, he glance back at her occasionally.

What caught his eye you may ask? His best friend in her dark blue leggings and an SU tank top, practicing with the majorette team. The SU Fabulous Dancing Dolls, were one of the best in the land; and everyone knew it.

Once Nefe became captain, she made them even better. She lead the team to nationals her first year. It was like the music was in her blood, and she could throw out a stand like nobody’s business.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were checking out your so called best friend. Who I might add, was -“

“Sean, think about what your gonna say. Choose wisely before I send you to Jesus early.” M’Baku stopped him before he could even finish. These two were like bulls in a China shop.

They were constantly butting heads over Nefe and it didn’t make sense. One was only with her for the sex but she didn’t see it like that; the other was  her best friend and would do anything to protect her. Which mad shin want to go the extra mile to make sure she was safe at all costs. Yet it made Sean want to work harder to keep her.

“Or what? You gonna stomp me into the ground like a elephant?” The joking tone was paired with a sickening smirk. Sean wouldn’t let up with the Africa jokes and it made the situation worse.

“At it again with the African jokes I see.” The disapproving chuckle that left M’Baku’s lips, was a rare one because Erik was eating this up with a shit eating grin.

“What are you gonna do about then, huh? As far as I’m concerned you don’t have feelings for her, or do you? Cause either way, I’m gonna be the one she wakes up to every night till senior year.”

Now he was just taunting him. The low growl that erupted from his chest was loud enough for both men to hear.

“Man you straight up buggin. Even I know that ain’t right, and I was just like you.” Both of them looked towards where to voice came from. Erik of all people got over his old ways once he met Nakia. She put him in his place and he never left since.

“Your only chance of getting laid again, Sean, is crawling up a chickens ass and waiting.” M’Baku eyed him up and down and smirked a bit at his own roast, upon hearing the football team egging him on.

“Whatever man.” With that Sean just backed off, going back to stretching.

“Never in my years of living, would I be around to see you stand up for me. Of all people really.”

“Man, you’ve been there for my shit. I gotta be there for you. We boys, we gotta stick together.”

Erik was right. In this world all they had was each other, and for him to stand up for M’Baku like that was eye opening.

“I wonder what that was all about.” Nefe being an on looker to what just happened, taking a break from practice and all. Nattie knew exactly what it was about and Nakia pointed it out first.

“The boys were arguing over you. I’m so close to beating the hell out of Sean.”

Nefe sighed at what her friend was saying and didn’t even wanna ask as to why. She was tired of the boys fighting, yet was ecstatic for Erik breaking it up.

“Ya boy stopped em too. I don’t know how you got him to draw back is gangsta ways, but I gotta hand it to ya Kia.”

“He’s still like that, just a bit toned down. I love me some Erik though.” Nakia was smitten over Erik just the same. Them two, along with T’Challa and Nattie, were what Nefe wanted in a real relationship.

What she had with Sean, was just for fun. Did she tell Sean that? Nope. She couldn’t because she was afraid he’d hurt her again, and by hurt her that meant grabbing her. She only told Nattie and the girls, mortified about how M’Baku would feel. He’s very protective over her, along with her brothers too.

“Oh please. That fine ass man with locs can have any woman he wants. Even me, I have the body; mind and skills to prove it. I’m surprised he’s even dating you. You have less hair than he does.”

Nakia nearly lunge for her, but Okoye grabbed her before she could claw her face.

Melanie couldn’t stand anyone else’s happiness but her own. Tearing others down was her thing, and she never got tired of it.

“Listen here med school,” Nefe got tired of her whack behind and was about to give her a piece of her mind.

“Save it. If only you were on the cheer team. Because as captain I wish I could kick your as off the squad.” She got in Nefe’s face, at a comfortable distance.

“As a 2nd degree black belt, I can just kick your ass.” Nefe sucks her teeth and looked her up and down.

“I’d like to see you try-” Melanie was off till the coach called her back, and she gave them a sinister look before sassaying away.

“Count ya blessing bruja! You better be lucky she’s holding me back!” Nakia growled in rage and Melanie smirked before going back with the cheer team.

Ain’t no way in hell, was Nefertiti about to have her on the majorette team and not think about choking her.

“Alright y’all. Save the fight for the parties tomorrow. We have a game to practice for. Nakia, good job on your Spanish.” Nefe winked at her friend, who then gave her a hug.

“Nefe’s right. Come on.” Nattie rallied them all together, with the rest of the team, and got into formation.

“We doing Formation or Dose?” Nattie asked before pressing play on the laptop, that was plugged in near the stands.

The smirk laced that Nefe’s face, was a triumphant one.

“Let’s switch it up. We’re doing Dose.”

~The Game: Southern University vs Alabama A&M~

The game was close. It was 77 to 76 with SU in the lead so far. M’Baku has scored the touchdown and the field goal kick. Only 2 more quarters left to go and the crowd was hyped, with a sea of sky blue, yellow and white. Nefe gathered up the girls in a huddle one last time for a prayer. A Southern University tradition.

“Alright girls, one shoe in.” All the girls places their right foot in the circle and Nefe led the prayer. They all held each other’s waists and bowed their heads.

“Father god, I ask that you cover and protect us as you always do going into these life changing moments. We ask that you guide our senior girls to victory and cover them with your hedge of protection, dear lord. Marchbus into victory, in your name we pray..”

“Amen.”

Sending off with a proper SU chant, getting into position and putting on smiles was what the girls were used to. Down south with an HBCU halftime was a goldmine. It was like watching the history of black rhythm come alive.

“Nattie. There go ya boy.” Nefe nugged her best friend nodding in the direction of T’Challa, dressed in his drum major outfit, practicing.

Anyone who knows Nattie and T’Challa is that, she’s the dancer one of the two. Even though he tries his best, he knows he’s enjoying himself. Who else would be best as drum major?

“This fool here knows how to make people laugh. He loves what he does and that all I can hope for.”

Nefe could see the love in her best friends eyes, as she gazed at the goofy man with the feather hat. That’s what she truly wanted and needed in life; an honest and loving relationship. She kept battling with her herself on it and couldn’t decide when it was time to be upfront with Sean about it.

“I see you love. Good luck out there like always.” He cape over to give her a hug, the girls and the band all made noise with the sign of affection between the two.

“You two are cute. Ok Drumline, we gotta go. Lead us on Udaku.” Nefe smirked and gave him a fist bump, sharing a quick laugh, before watching him leave to start the whistle to let the girls go.

Their outfits were jumpsuits with sheer tights, that were a lustrous jet black; with cut out parts. The ensemble hugged every curt and left little to no imagination, as the girls sashayed from the outside of the field to the field. Hearing the crowd cheering them on as they lead the band in all their glory.

They all had their hair down and pressed out, in order off them to whip them back and forth. Except for Nefe because she refused to take her braids out, since she just got them done.

M’Baku knew where to look, as he glance at the field watching his best friend move with grace and elegance, to the music of the band. That was until his coach told him to come back and was embarrassed, causing Erik to laugh a bit.

T’Challa was doing his thing as any great drum major would, and gave the crowd a show. Any HBCU had a great leader, and Southern University had one of the best. Whomever was next in line, had to live up to his expectations.

The music changed quick as Nefe threw out the first stand, everyone in the stands was into the groove with the music as well. Everyone knew the Dolls would be immaculate as whatever song they danced to and didn’t expect less from the team.

The girls followed Nefe’s every move with a smooth nature. Throwing out high kicks; backflips, a few twerking moments and few gyrating movements. The girls felt right at home. Plus adding little bit of Latin flare of course.

Getting the crowd hype was what the Fabulous Dancing Dolls were known for. All the right counts; the formations and the stands were on point. All the way down to the strut back to the stands.

[Watch this to get a visual!!]

As the game went on, the hype never died down. The girls were allowed to stand on the sidelines with the cheerleaders, during the last 5 minutes of the game.

“The suspense is killing me man. Alabama State A&M is gonna probably kick our ass.”

“Come on Nefe. Have a little faith in our boys. They’ve never disappointed us and won’t now.”

Nattie tried her best to calm her friend down as they watched the game. This M’Baku’s first game as a running back and it was only his junior year. He had strived to be quarterback by time senior year came, and would never back down from striving to get there.

“I just hope he doesn’t miss this. This could be his big break for the head spot next year.” Nefe couldn’t hold in her excitement as much as she’d like to, and Melanie scoffed at her in annoyance.

“Oh please. Why are you so worried about M’Baku’s chances of being quarterback for? He’s got me as his good luck charm to worry for him.”

“Listen here Med School, I had a enough of your shit for one lifetime let alone in practice. I’m his best friend and I have a right to worry.” With as much fire to throw back at her, Nefe snarled and gave a once over.

“Why do you care? It’s not like-”

“Shut the hell up before I herky you in the throat.”

Nefe cut her off before she could ever start, and paid attention to the game. Getting antsy with anticipation.

“M’Baku, this is all you my dude. Score it for us, better you than Sean.” Erik encourages him as he glances his way, receiving a head nod and a smile.

“I got you.” With a gentle smirk towards him, and a wave to the Nefe but Melanie took it as one to her. He shook his head in defeat and got back in the game. As the call was heard he caught the ball from David, and ran for the end zone from the 40 yard line.

“Go M’Baku!” Nefe and her girls cheered him on along with the crowd.

Melanie had had enough and decided to speak up.

“Why are you so into his future, not like he likes you or whatever.”

“I’m into his future as much as he is into mine. That’s what friends do. Scouts are out here tonight, like they are at every game so they look out for him. I’m his friend and he is mine. Whomever he dates has to deal with it.”

Nefe didn’t even have to look at her to explain her reasoning. Hell, she didn’t need to and yet still did. Receiving a high five from Nattie, she got back into the game and was on the screaming happily when M’Baku scored the winning touchdown. Making the score 98 to 83.

The crowd's reaction was just like hers, as both majorette and cheer teams ran onto the field with the superfans. Nefe knew who’d she wanted to hug but was stopped by Sean and hugged him anyway.

“Did you see me babe? How’d I do?” He was too prideful in himself to congratulate the rest of his team.

“Uh yeah. You did great. I’ll catch you later ok? I gotta get the girls ready to uh march out.” Placing a kiss on his cheek, earning her a smile before he headed out to talk to his boys. She made a beeline for M’Baku, once they saw each other. He picked her up, spinning her around in glee.

“We did it! That was amazing.” M’Baku smiled as he held her as close as possible.

“I’m so freakin proud of you! You did so well!” Squealing in happiness, holding on tight to him as he spun her. Next thing she knew, she kissed him. It was as if time stood still, and nothing else mattered to either of them. Except for a noise from Sean and Melanie. Once they broke apart, he set her down and a sense of awkwardness filled the air.

“Oh shit..”

[shadowsnlace]

Hi, congratulations for your 400 followers u deserve it 😘 can i request a scenario between kenpachi and his fem!s.o in the bath, first it's just for relax but eh! we know him so it end with love and a fuck session in the bath please. Thank you i love you're blog keep going 😊

Great ask! I really enjoyed writing this. :) Thank you for all your support!

“Bath Time”

Kenpachi Zaraki’s bathtub was impressive. You remembered the first time you saw it you knew right away that he was a man that truly enjoyed lounging in the tub. His bathtub was large enough to accommodate at least two people of Zaraki’s size, so for you and him it was more than roomy.

The heat of the water made you drowsy. Laying between Kenny’s legs you were dosing on his chest listening to his even breaths. You weren’t the only one relaxing your way to slumber.

Kenny’s hand slid over your shoulder, down to cup your breast. So, not sleeping at all. One pass of the pad of his thumb over your nipple made you shift a little. His voice rumbled behind you, “Don’t squirm.” He stroked again. You rolled your hips, your lower back giving his cock a light sweep. You felt that glorious part of him stir. He growled, moved his hand lower until his long fingers slid between your folds.

You sucked in a breath, grabbed his arm, and pushed yourself into his hand, “Kenny…” his name left your lips on a sigh.

He leaned forward a bit, his teeth nipped the shell of your ear, “Mmmmm, you like that, don’t you? Especially when I do this…” He drew two fingers over your clit, trapping it between the tips. His touch was gentle as

he drew circles there. You moaned, pushed your head back into his shoulder. He chuckled, “Yeah, I know how much you like this.” He kissed your neck, “You like it even more when it’s my tongue down there.” You groaned low, clamped your

legs together to keep his hand right where it was. His laugh was playful. He withdrew his hand and enjoyed the sound of loss that hissed through your teeth.

Sweet stars help you, he was in the mood to tease you. Nothing was more dangerous than Kenny with a purpose. And, he had decided he was going to torture you with pleasure.

“Stand up,” his voice held an edge of command. He helped you keep your balance as you stood and turned to face him. You thought you were both getting out of the tub so you could take the fun to the futon. Nope.

You squeaked when he pulled you toward him, grinning wickedly. You started to tip forward, but he moved you so that you had no choice but to put your knees on his shoulders. Oh my god….

His hands steadied you as your hands scrambled against the bath tiles. The second you gained your balance, he pulled your core to his mouth, tongue sliding over you then into you. “Shit, Kenny…” you pressed your forehead to the cool tile.

“Mmmm,” the vibration from him made your legs shake a little, “you taste so good.” One hand moved to spread your lips and expose your clit. You waited to feel his tongue again. But, he placed a soft kiss instead, his lips moving feather light over your aching nerves.

Your whole body shook. What the hell is he doing? This was not his usual approach. Usually, he was just barely contained power – wild for you, nearly feral in his need to fill you. There were two things that were constants in your life: The sun would always rise, and Kenny would always fuck you stupid every chance he got.

His tongue was gentle as it moved in tandem with his lips. Your eyes fluttered, rolling behind your lids. I’m gonna die – I can’t remember how to breathe. The way he was lapping at you, kissing you, sucking with just enough pressure…you came, and you came hard.

Kenny gripped you to keep his mouth on you while your cries echoed off the tiles. You were caught up in a riptide of pleasure that kept you crashing over and over, and he made sure you rode out every last wave.

Then, you were sliding down his chest, one hand on your hip, the other around your back to keep you close. He stopped you when your core bumped against his erection. He made sure he was lined up with you, then eased in agonizingly slow. He watched your face as your body welcomed him, pushed your hair back as he tucked a hand on the nape of your neck. He pulled your face close to his so he could drink in the little sighs that escaped your lips as he stretched you.

A gasp from you told him he was completely seated inside you. You tried to move, but his hand on the small of your back held you still, making you very aware of just how small you were compared to him. Your hands rubbed over his chest and around his neck. His eyes were burning into yours with an intensity that stole your wits. A deep kiss – so tender that you felt tears sting your eyes. This was a part of Kenpachi you never knew existed. He was making love to you…and your heart stuttered.

And then he rocked you forward, nearly retreating completely from your body. The ache he left behind was nearly as sweet as the ache when he filled you again. He controlled the pace, controlled your body, controlled your bliss…water was sloshing and lapping at your bodies, the rhythm of your motions creating waves inside and out. Your head fell back, a loud moan laced with Kenny’s name. He answered you by licking your nipples, sucking gently and sending bolts of sensation straight to your core. You dug your fingers into his hair, as much to touch him as to keep him where he was.

On and on, the slow pace kept you hanging on the edge of release. Then, he slipped his thumb down to your clit. Your eyes cinched shut – this was it, time to shatter.

“Look at me,” the gravelly rasp in his voice sent shivers through you. Your eyes met his. His face was showing signs of strain. He was holding back, focused on you. “Cum for me, princess.” He circled his thumb, knowing exactly what you needed.

You clenched. He grunted. The palms of your hands on his chest steadied you as your body pulled tighter and tighter. Your pants fanned his face then gave way to moans. Your orgasm seemed to come from miles away, deep pulses that felt as if they would go on forever. As the last waves passed, Kenny grabbed your hips, “Hold on to me.”

You held on for dear life. He rocked you hard, lifted you, thrust up into you – finally he’d given in and let his control slip. Your core lit up like fireworks. Every thrust ripped wails of ecstasy from you. He held back long enough to feel you cum again and then followed you to his own release.  

Kenny’s head was laid back on the end of the tub. You were collapsed on his chest, waiting for your breathing to return to normal. You could feel aftershocks ripple through your inner muscles. Still inside you, he pulsed a bit – a reminder that it could all start again any second. But, he slipped out of you, kept you laid across his chest. One arm went around your waist, the other hand went to the back of your head. He stroked your hair,

fingers digging in to massage your scalp and neck. You sighed in bliss, lifted your face to his neck. His pulse beat strong and sure beneath your lips as you pressed a few kisses there. He made a contented sound as he tilted his head to stroke his cheek across your forehead.

“We should buy a big bed,” he said out of nowhere.

You lifted your head to look him in the eye, “What?”

“We need a big bed. Once you move in, we’ll need something comfortable.”

You blinked, your brain was still muddled. “Move in? You – you want me to move in?” You’d never put demands on him, perfectly happy with living in the moment and not needing to define your relationship.

He dropped a kiss on your lips, “Of course I want you to move in.

Been waiting for you to for a while now.” You decided not to point out that you were waiting for an invitation.

“I – I didn’t want to impose or –” His lips silenced you.

His eyes roamed over your face, coming to rest on your eyes, “You know I’m crazy about you.” You learned pretty quickly that Kenny’s emotions ran deep and that he wasn’t ever going to be a man that would write you poetry.

What he just did to your body and what he just said was his declaration of love. No need to discuss it, dissect it, or make it an issue. He was a man of action, not words – and his actions tonight had spoken loud and clear. His heart was yours.

You smiled at him, “Good to know because I’m crazy about you too.”

He smiled back, “So, we’re buying a new bed tomorrow and you’re moving in.” He layed a playful smack on your ass, “Now get up. I’m water logged and you’re gettin’ heavy.”

You squawked, smacked his chest, “You ass!”

He laughed richly, tightening his arms around you as he nibbled at your lips. You both got out of the bathtub…and spent the next few hours having a final romp on the futon. After all, proper good-byes were important for new beginnings.

[deliadexaerisofficialuniver-blog]

Delia Melody Life Update

Hey Deely-Boppers! So in this week’s news I was recently in the hospital, decided to check in for my depression, on new meds now, and I’m staying at a different shelter, run by a local pastor who seems like a very warm, friendly, helpful lady, trying to find work, sending out applications, etc. I’m keeping “Delia Melody” as the name of my new channel since it got freed up when I gave my old channel that super-long name complete with a welsh translation of my last name... don’t ask me why, I have no idea, but since I lost access to my old email addresses its at least convenient that I did so. Anyway, working on writing music again, got a couple of new things written, did a re-write on “I Heard You Went Away,” it’s much better now. I’ve been having the strangest dreams lately, mainly the past two nights of being back together with Vivi and Cupid, and patching things up with them, and Cupid bleeding from a bunch of cuts and needing to drink my blood for some reason. We went to karaoke in the dream, there was a bar that had Nightwish karaoke options right next to a two story thin house that we were living together in for some reason. They had a bunch of extras of instruments, but no acoustic foam set up, and instead they had super-thin useless foam with beads stitched onto them... I really don’t know what to say for that dream, but since coming home I’ve had some interesting revelations. First of all, I actually just chance bumped into my ex-wife and her mother (still currently my legal wife/mother in-law. We both still want divorce so that’s in the plans, though I’m not sure how/when we’re gonna be able between the two of us to pay the $600 for it, but they both claim that Ejay, who claimed in North Carolina to be from their family and there to hurt me, is someone they’ve never heard of/have no connection to. When I was there Vivi and Cupid said he was lying and just trying to scare me because he felt threatened by my relationships with them, and I’m starting to believe that may actually be true. It’s odd seeing as how so many of the actions against me that Ejay took seemed motivated by taking some sort of “revenge” on my ex-wife’s behalf, but it could have all been just to scare me, hurt me, try to drive me into insanity... As for my rapist, Vivi and Cupid claimed she hurt them too. I never saw it, but I’d be willing to stand with them on that claim simply because I’ve found out since that she’s had other victims as well, and because I know how she hurt me. Sara raped me, and there’s no excusing it with any lack of knowing boundaries. Vivi threatened me when I was self-harming, and there was some confusion with everyone going on when I was dosed with what was not the low dose of LSD I asked for, but either a different drug, or at the very least a cocktail of other drugs, but whatever it was, I was incoherent and sleepless for the better part of two weeks while the world around me seemed insane/made no sense and I just remember everyone but Cupid hurting me in one way or another. It broke my heart when they left without me, which left me to Sara’s whims till I sent her back to her family by greyhound. Before that everything about our love and our relationships seemed so real, and we had such great plans for the future. Cupid warned me before Sara came that they had a vision of some kind of “demonic animal thing” when we invited her to stay, ripping up our home and everything we’d worked for and splitting us up, and I told them not to worry about it at the time, thinking it was just their anxiety, but now I feel like I should have listened to them. I wonder what could have been avoided if I hadn’t let Sara stay with us. I feel like Ejay still would have probably hurt me while I was on the drugs, but I don’t know if he would’ve gotten away with it as easily without Sara there to confuse things. I’m beginning to believe that perhaps Vivi only hurt me out of her own confusion since we all got our tabs from the same dealer, and my trip started out feeling like I expected LSD to before it got bad. I’ve since had good trips on good LSD so I know the difference, there was a taste and smell that shouldn’t have been there, and the effects were different. I don’t know what the tabs Cupid and Vivi got for the trip they decided to have before I got interested in trying it were like, but I wonder about it now in hindsight, whether our tabs were similar or different. The dealer also ended up telling me at some point shortly before I ended up being able to leave that cursed apartment that Sara had bought some as well, and I have no idea what she did with it. Either way, I’m beginning to believe that the situation there was different than events initially led me to believe, and it makes me wonder if reconciliation is possible. I’ve lived since then believing that Cupid and Vivi’s love was a lie and part of a trap from my ex-wife’s family to hurt me, but if their love was true, it changes everything. I have no way of knowing at the moment, but I know time will tell. Until then I don’t know if I’m going to keep having these dreams or not, but they are super lucid, active, and long lived. It definitely feels a lot like an astral projection in that they follow sequence with each other, and in each one I remember my life as though the sequence of dreams made up my actual life, and the dreams were the life I was actually living. I’ll find out in due time, but until then, I have a lot to do. I have no instruments, even to busk, Facebook won’t let me create an account, which means I’m having a hard time getting in touch with some of my friends in town, but I’ll keep pressing on however I can. Thank you as always for your love and support! Keep being your awesomely beautiful selves! -Delia

[hopeishappinessff]

Chapter 46

My trembling fingers clutched onto the sleeve of Chris’s hoodie as I stood beside him with my head meshed against his shoulder. Though we arrived at the airport only a mere few minutes before we were supposed to, we were still much too early to board our flight. The longer we waited for our flight number to be called, the more miserable I started to feel. The moment Chris and I left his apartment to meet up with everyone at my house, fatigue hit me like a ton of bricks, my body started to ache from head to toe, and nausea suddenly overwhelmed me… by the time we reached the airport my condition only continued to deteriorate. Most of everyone’s parents, as well as my aunt, came along to the airport to see us off. As we made our way through the security line, my aunt stood off to the side with everyone else with pure apprehension and concern etched all over her face. Because she was a registered nurse, she was more worried about my condition for the trip and she begged me to just stay back with her. I quickly declined her suggestion though and let her know that I would be fine. “Babe,” I could feel Chris shifting beside me, but I kept my head glued to his delightfully comfortable arm with my eyes shut, “Baby, your aunt is calling you.” “Hmm.” I hummed as I opened my eyes just barely, instantly cringing at the awful discomfort in my throat as well as the bright lights making it nearly impossible for me to fully open my eyes.  “Your aunt… she’s trying to get your attention over there.” He gently nudged his shoulder up to get me to raise my head and I did, only after wrapping an arm around his lower back to keep myself steady.  With a low groan and a cough, I sniffled and attempted to straighten my posture as best as I could. I didn’t want her to see the utter pain that I felt and become even more worried. Chris held onto me protectively as he walked me over to my aunt and I prayed that she wouldn’t notice the obvious limp in my stride that had absolutely nothing to do with my sudden illness. Once we reached her at the end of the security line, Chris stood protectively at my side, gripping onto my side gently to keep me up. “Sy’Diyah, honey I’m telling you, if you’re not feeling well then you should just stay here and let me take you to the ER.” She fussed as politely as she could. With a sigh, I smiled weakly and pushed against Chris in an effort to stand on my own so she could see that I was fine “Auntie, I’m alright… really.” She stared at me with furrowed brows and shook her head at my blatant stubbornness “Okay, but as soon as that plane lands I want you to get some fluids in your system and take that medicine I gave you alright?” Before we even entered the airport, she’d handed me about three different bottles of prescription medication and I couldn’t help but laugh at her when she did… if she couldn’t get me to stay back in Richmond with her, she was going to do everything in her power to guarantee I was prepared wherever we were going.  “Alright Auntie, I will.” As we stood there listening to her explain each medication and the doses to take of each, a voice rang through the loud speakers informing us that it was now time to board our flight. “Chris, baby… can you do me a huge favor and make sure she takes everything like the instructions say? And please make sure she gets plenty of fluids in her system. I don’t know what’s going on with her, but I know you’ll take care of my baby.” She said as she watched me nuzzle my face against his chest.  Chris smiled at her and nodded respectfully as he tightened his grip on my waist “Yes ma’am, I’ll take good care of her.” “Thank you sweetheart,” She stepped forward to swoop the two of us into a gentle hug then turned her attention to me, “I hope you get better baby. If need be, you just stay put in bed when you get there until you get to feeling better okay. Don’t get anywhere and try to overdo yourself.”  I nodded obediently and after bidding everyone adieu, I held onto Chris as we finally turned to move through the security line and make our way to our terminal to board our plane.  -- I was more thankful than ever the moment I was able to plant my bottom in my seat and curl up beside Chris. I wanted nothing more than to cuddle up in the hoodie he’d taken off for me and sleep until we landed. I hadn’t paid much attention to any of the announcements back in the airport, so I still had no idea exactly where we were going, and I didn’t have a chance to ask since I’d fallen asleep almost as soon as we took off.  A short while later, I slowly pried my eyes open and stretched my aching limbs as far as I could in the limited space.  “You alright babe?” I peered over to my left to see Chris staring at me with his head laid back against his headrest. I nodded and winced immediately at the pain that shot through the back of my neck and the looming headache that I could in the center of my forehead.  “The captain just came on a minute ago and said we’re about to land... we have a layover,” He explained as he ran a hand over his drowsy face, “In one of the Carolina's I think.”  I sighed and shut my eyes… I didn’t want him to know it, but I literally felt like I was dying right there beside him. The aching had increased terribly in my entire body and I wanted to simply sit there and cry.  I was startled by the feeling of his arm snaking around my midsection and I opened my eyes to glance at him, only to see him smiling sheepishly at me “You forgot to put your seatbelt back on.” I smiled and waited for him to buckle me up and thanked him before leaning against him and resting my head on his shoulder. Just as I was about to close my eyes and allow sleep to claim me again, the plane began to shake aggressively and I gasped and instantly gripped onto Chris’s arm. He chuckled and with my eyes squeezed shut, I buried my face in his arm. “It’s alright babe, just a little turbulence.” He spoke soothingly. Within the next few minutes, the turbulence got a little worse, then subsided, then got worse all over again. The remainder of the ride seemed to follow that same pattern until we hit one final bump… the landing strip. A few minutes later, the plane came to a complete halt and the captain’s voice rang out through the cabin to inform us that we’d safely landed in South Carolina.  Everyone stood and the moment I did, a sudden surge of dizziness and nausea struck me like a freight train and I used Chris’s back to keep balanced until we could cross out into the isle. The longer we stood there, the more everything around me seemed to spin and I quickly pushed my hands into his back to get him to go. “What you rushing for?” He asked, peering back over his shoulder at me with a smirk. I stared up at him desperately as I continued to push my hands against his back “I think I’m gonna throw up.” His smirk quickly faded into a deep scowl and he immediately swung around to face forward. “Excuse me!” He was frantic in his efforts to get us out into the isle now, but the line of people already standing there seemed to be moving along at a snail’s pace.  “Sir! Excuse me!. My girl is about to throw up and unless you want it all over you, can you please excuse me?” He hollered at some innocent man who then took off as quick as he could down the walkway.  I attempted to laugh, but only ended up with a hand slapped over my mouth… I could feel the bile rising in my throat and if Chris didn’t get me to a bathroom in a few seconds, his back would ultimately end up being my target. He managed to get everyone’s attention in front of us with that last comment and before I knew it, he reached back to grip my hand and flew forward down the aisle toward the small bathroom in the front. “Excuse me sir, I’m going to have to ask you to slow down. You could easily injure…” One of the flight attendants stood right at the end of the row blocking us and Chris was forced to slow his pace so he wouldn’t run into her. “Ma’am, open the door.” He demanded breathlessly.  “Excuse me.” “Open the door!” He yelled, pointing hysterically toward the bathroom door that she stood directly in front of. The attendant looked hastily from him to the door with an uneasy expression on her pale face. Once we were only about five feet away from her, Chris stopped suddenly and yanked me around in front of him and the moment she took one look at me and the hand plastered over my mouth, she snatched the door open and hurdled out of the way. Chris pushed me through the door and if the lady would have swung it open just one second later, it would have been too late… I landed on my knees in front of the toilet and everything I’d eaten for breakfast came spewing out.  Chris eased into the space behind me after speaking shortly with the sympathetic attendant then shut the door and stood behind me, reaching forward to rub my back as I continued to vomit to the point that I could barely breathe. He kneeled beside me to pull the loose strands of hair back from my face and gently caressed my back. After several minutes of coughing and clinching my stomach muscles until nothing was left to come out, I pulled my face back from the toilet and wiped away a few stray tears.  “You okay?” Chris asked quietly as he continued to rub my back. I nodded and reached up to flush the toilet before I ended up vomiting again just from the sight. He leaned over me and pulled a wad of tissue from the roll on the wall then carefully dabbed it on and around my lips. I felt like a child with the way he handled me so delicately and that thought alone brought about a fresh batch of tears. He moved me back away from the toilet and pulled the lid of it down before lifting me to sit on it and kneeling down in front of me. “Baby, don’t cry. It’s okay.” I’d never heard him speak so compassionately and for whatever reason that left me bawling even harder. He ran his hands up and down the front of my thighs in such a soothing manner and seconds later, we both raised our gazes to the small door as the flight attendant from earlier appeared in the doorway.  She smiled tenderly at Chris and raised her eyes to meet mine “Sweetie, are you alright?” Using the sleeve of Chris’s hoodie that I wore to wipe my eyes, I nodded and began to push myself up from the toilet. I was weaker now than before I threw up and the moment I made a move toward Chris, gravity stopped me right in my tracks and he swiftly swooped into place before I toppled over.  “Come on sweetheart.” The attendant stuck her hand out to grasp mine and together, both she and Chris guided me out of the bathroom and off the empty plane. -- If it wasn’t for the McDonald’s just down the hall from our terminal, I was quite positive I would have passed out. Chris got me settled in one of the cushioned seats between Destani and Nalay before rushing off to the fast food restaurant to get me a full meal without evening bothering to ask what I wanted. I rested my right elbow on the armrest attached to my chair and propped my head up on my hand, closing my eyes once I was halfway comfortable.  “Sy, you okay?” I cracked my eyes open just barely and lifted my head to see Tameka crouching down in front of me staring up at me, along with Nalay and Destani who awaited my response.  “I’m fine.” I mumbled.  “What the hell happened? It’s like, one minute we were across the aisle from you and Chris and everything seemed normal then the next thing I knew Chris was yelling and pushing past all those people in front of ya’ll.” Destani said with a frown. “I think I just got nauseous from the plane ride… I ended up throwing up.” I explained. Destani and Nalay exchanged worried glances and Nalay quickly faced me, resting a hand against my forehead.  “You’re kind of warm… I really hope you’re not getting the flu.” She said. “I hope not.” I retorted quietly as the brim of my eyes began to tingle. I blinked rapidly to force the random onslaught of tears to remain at bay and released a frustrated sigh as I thought about how emotional I’d been all day.  Chris walked back over to us a few minutes later with a McDonald's bag in one hand and cup holder with two cups in it in the other. Destani spotted him and without question, she stood from her seat allowing him space to sit beside me.  “I got you nuggets with sweet & sour and barbecue sauce, a medium fry with no salt, and a vanilla milkshake to help soothe your throat. I got you an apple pie too, just in case you don’t get full.” He explained as he plucked each item from the bag. I smiled and thanked him as the girl’s ooh’d and aww’d at his gracious behavior, leaving his cheeks rosy red.  “Aww Chris, this girl makes you such a big ol teddy bear.” Tameka said, reaching over to playfully pinch his right cheek.  He flinched back away from her so she couldn’t get ahold of him and pulled his fitted further down on his head “Whatever Meka.” “How long do we have to stay here?” Destani asked. Chris took a moment to glance down at his watch and twisted his lips to one side as he looked back up at her “For about an hour or so, I think.” “Oh great.” She mumbled sarcastically then moved over to the row of chairs across from us where she plopped down beside Rashad.  While we sat waiting to board our next flight, and even with a sore throat, I ended up devouring everything that Chris had in that bag for me. From the nuggets to the apple pie… it was all gone in a short amount of time and much to my surprise, I didn’t feel nearly as weak and nauseous as I felt when we got off the plane. As everyone sat around us talking quietly amongst themselves, Chris sat silently beside me and eyed me carefully as I ate.  “I’m fine now Chris.” I said, glancing over at him with a sly smile as I placed all my trash back into the McDonald’s bag.  “You sure?” He asked softly, “Did you get full? You want me to get you something else?” I’m full… I don’t need anything else.” I giggled with a shake of my head.  “Alright. Let me get your trash… I think they’re about to board us in a little while.” He stood and stretched then took the McDonald’s bag from my grasp before walking to the nearest trash bin to dispose of it. Just as he’d predicted, a voice rang out over the intercom to inform us that we could finally board the plane. Just before we left the airport back in Richmond, I handed off all the medicine that my aunt had given me to Chris and as everyone gathered their belongings around us now, he made it a point to pull one of the bottles from his bag and he dumped one of the tablets into the palm of his hand. I frowned at the sight of it and he only laughed at my expense “Baby you have to take it if you wanna feel better.” “But I feel better now though,” I fibbed, “I don’t want to take that.”  “I know you don’t feel weak anymore, because you got a chance to eat. But that didn’t do anything for the rest of your symptoms… I bet you still aching, ain’t you?” I stared at him and rolled my eyes… I hadn't told him anything about any of my other symptoms, but I couldn’t even bring myself to argue with him.  He gazed down at me with a smirk and I sighed “Fine, I’ll take it when we get back on the plane.” “Good.” He stated triumphantly. He grabbed his carry-on bag that held my medicine in one hand and my hand with the other then led me to the line for us to board the next plane.  -- Only about an hour and a half later, we finally landed for the last time. I stretched and yawned and with the combination of sitting in my seat for so long and the one pill I’d taken beginning to wear off, I could feel the aching coming back full force… I wanted nothing more than to climb into a bed soon and sleep. My body felt like I’d been beaten all over and I could feel the waterworks creeping upon me as I stood behind Chris in agonizing discomfort.  “Babe, you alright?” He asked, glancing back at me as he guided us along the narrow aisle.  “I’m fine.” I mumbled. Truthfully, I wasn’t anywhere near fine, but I knew if I told him that he would hold up the entire line just to turn around and check on me. "Here," He stuck a hand back and I instantly reached down to grab ahold of it, "Just squeeze my hand if you feel like you just don't wanna walk anymore okay."  I nodded my head, though he couldn’t see me since he’d already turned to face forward, and continued to move along behind him. Once we reached the door to exit the plane, I glanced back to make sure everyone from the group was keeping up with us. The moment I turned to face forward, I unintentionally squeezed Chris's hand and ended up running right into his back.  He hastily swung around and stared down at me with concern all over his face "What's wrong? What happened? You starting to feel worse... you want me to carry you?"  "No, no…” I laughed with a shake of my head, “I'm okay. I’m sorry… I didn't mean to do that." He silently stared at me for a moment then sighed and gently lifted his left hand to caress my face "You sure you alright? I don't want you to pass out or something because you feeling worse and you don’t wanna tell me." "I'm okay Chris, really." I assured him. His face contorted into that of relief and he smiled then leaned forward to press his lips against my forehead. He turned to face forward and we continued to trek through the jet bridge to the terminal. I took that time to look around to take in my surroundings and was completely amazed. Though it was creeping well into the evening hours, the hustle and bustle of so many people trying to get their belongings from the baggage claim and the excitement of the atmosphere left me biting back a grin. My smile only grew broader as I finally caught on to the voice over the loud speaker, welcoming us to the Orlando International Airport.  "I can't even believe we're finally out of Richmond and in Florida right now!" Destani exclaimed eagerly as we now stood outside, waiting for the boys to load up our arranged SUV’s with our luggage. On our way out to the loading area, Chris explained that he and the boys would take a trip to Enterprise in the morning to pick up our actual rental trucks. But for right now Destani, Rashad, Chris, and I all climbed into the first truck, leaving Nalay, Tameka, Dontay, and BJ to load up in the second vehicle. Without question, Rashad hopped into the front seat with the driver to leave me space in the backseat with Chris who I immediately curled up beside and drifted off to sleep. A short ride later, I awoke to the feeling of Chris gently nudging me and I pried my eyes open and slowly looked up at him. "We're here." He whispered.  I nodded and yawned, making sure to move back away from his face as I did so, and waited for him to open the door and let me out.  "Shit, my nigga Chris… where the hell you got us shacking up at homeboy!” Destani exclaimed stridently as she hopped down out of the car. He only laughed and turned to face me once he too stepped out onto the pavement.  "You gone stay in there all night?" Chris asked, sticking his head back into the open door and peering in at me. I smirked and quickly yet carefully made my way toward his open door. The moment my feet hit the ground, I stretched my aching arms high above my head and gasped as I laid my eyes on the sight before me. The hotel was like nothing I’d ever seen before. It stood high and magnificent in all its glowing glory and I gawked up at it like a kid in a candy store.  I was at such a loss for words and so captivated by the beauty of our accommodations, that I failed to notice that Chris had stepped into place behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.  “You like it?” He whispered, resting his chin lightly against my right shoulder.  “I love it,” I exclaimed, turning in his grasp to hug his midsection, “I would kiss you right now to show my appreciation, but… you know…” “You think I care about that?” He chuckled softly, leaning forward to press his lips against mine anyway.  “Will ya’ll niggas quit caking and come on so we can check in?” Dontay said as he walked past us.  “Fuck you Don.” Chris laughed. “Nah man, you just wait til Sy starts feeling better for that...” He retorted. I gasped and turned around to see him snickering as he walked away from us. With a playful roll of my eyes, I walked along with Chris to the back of the truck to retrieve our bags from the trunk. Once we got all of our belongings out, Chris and the boys each pulled out their wallets to pay both of the drivers and I couldn’t help but notice the wad of cash Chris plucked from his back pocket. I watched as he handed over his half and slipped the money back into his pocket before turning to me and reaching for my hand.  An older woman with the warmest smile greeted us once we reached the immaculate front desk. Chris stepped up to talk to her and within the next ten minutes, he’d gotten us all checked in to the penthouse suite on the highest floor of the hotel. Once we were loaded on the elevator, we headed up to our floor and I was surprised to say the least when the elevator doors slid open, revealing only one suite on the entire floor. With a key in hand, Chris let us into the massive suite that greatly resembled a two-story condo.  “Yooooo, this shit is ridiculous man! I got dibs on the biggest room in here!” Rashad shouted excitedly as we all lingered in the middle of the living room  “Actually, me and Sy got dibs on that hoe.” Chris stated calmly as he moved toward the stairs off in the corner of room. “What you mean ya’ll got dibs on it… I just called it.”  “And I believe I already put the most money down on this whole thing, therefore my lady and I get first pick… and I’m picking the king suite, fit for a king and his queen,” He smiled and with an arrogant wink, he turned to face me, “Come on baby.” I could only shake my head and laugh at the look of sheer shame plastered on Rashad's face as I followed closely behind Chris into his suite fit for a king.  -- I curled into the fetal position on my side of the luxury bed and yawned for what felt like the hundredth time tonight. For whatever reason, I was fighting to keep my eyes open rather than giving in to my body’s desire to simply sleep. While I lie there struggling, Chris was in the bathroom taking a shower and the sound of the water was lulling me closer and closer to an inevitable slumber. Eventually I began to surrender to my drowsy nature, but not before Chris exited the hot bathroom with a haze of steam trailing along behind him. I pried my eyes open and watched him closely as he made his way to his suitcase and pulled out a pair of boxers, basketball shorts, and white footies.  I couldn’t tear my eyes off him as he straightened his posture and dropped his towel… unintentionally giving me a full view everything that I so dearly adored about him. Once he was dressed, he climbed into the bed behind me and slid over to press his chest directly against my back. He wrapped an arm around my waist and pulled me back to him then gently pressed his lips against the back of my neck. I smirked and snuggled my head further into my pillow, drifting off to sleep only a few minutes later with his arms cradling me like a baby.  In the wee hours of the morning, I awoke abruptly and sprung from the bed in a cold sweat that left me trembling in the cool air. I made a mad dash for the bathroom and just barely made it to the toilet in time to ram my face into the mercifully open seat and throw up everything I’d eaten earlier at the airport. After everything went flying out of my mouth and there was nothing left to give, I began to wheeze violently. The muscles in my stomach clinched so painfully, I could feel the hot tears forming in the corners of my eyes and I didn’t even bother to stop them. Shifting into the role of my own personal Superman for about the millionth time since we’d left home, Chris swooped into the doorway of the bathroom looking absolutely drained.  “Baby, you alright?” He asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes. Though I’d been fibbing to him all day about my wellbeing, this time I couldn’t bring myself to lie… I was rapidly losing to whatever this was that was taking over my body and I didn’t even have the energy to deny it. I rested my head against the cool porcelain of the toilet seat after reaching up to flush it and continued to sob like a baby. He stood there staring at me for a few prolonged seconds, making me feel awfully insecure as I sat hunched at the toilet in a disheveled mess. He finally turned and walked away, leaving me sad and helpless. I assumed he’d gotten fed up with me and my illness and I couldn’t even blame him for that, so I made a move to get my own self up from the floor, but reality quickly struck that I was much weaker than I’d imagined and I slumped right back into a heap on the floor. I decided to just stay put for a while, even if I had to spend the night right there on the bathroom floor, to avoid passing out from trying to stand up.  After carefully crawling away from the tile around the toilet, I stretched my body across the length of the plush carpet that covered the remainder of the oversized restroom. The space was nearly the size of a bedroom and the only tile on the entire floor was placed neatly right around the toilet, so instead of freezing to death there, I figured my body could use the warmth of the carpet. It didn’t take long for that very material to warm me up and within minutes it started to feel like someone had turned the thermostat up dramatically in the room. Before I knew it, I swore I could feel sweat forming along the brim of my hairline. That alone had me bunching my camisole beneath my armpits, leaving me half naked in a pair of polka dot boyshorts.  After I’d gotten a bit more comfortable right there on the floor, Chris returned to the bathroom carrying two pillows and a spare blanket from the closet in our room. He walked over to me and I could feel him staring down at me, but I paid him no mind as I continued to focus on thoughts of a nice big pool in an effort to keep my suddenly overheated body cool. He crouched down beside me and placed one of the pillows in his hands down beside my head. “Sit up for a minute.” He spoke softly. I tried my best to push up into an upright position, but the task was daunting due to my weakened limbs. When I finally created enough space between my head and the floor, he slid the pillow under my head and I plopped down on it with a sigh of relief.  “I’ll be right back okay.” He said. I nodded and closed my eyes as he stood and exited the bathroom for a second time. He came back a few minutes later and I parted my lids to see him kneeling in front of me with one of the bottles of medicine from my aunt in one hand and a cup with ice and a can of sprite balanced in the other.  I instantly frowned at the sight of the medicine and he chuckled softly “Babe you have to take it.”  My frown deepened and I shook my head “I’m okay now Chris.” “Yeah, but in a few hours you’ll probably be running to the toilet again. You may as well take it so you can get some rest.” He reasoned.  I was beyond prepared to argue against him, but I also knew just how bad I craved sleep, so I decided to save my argument and do as he said. I hadn’t realized it until he handed over a small plastic cup, but the medication was liquid and it was probably the worst tasting thing that’d ever slithered down my throat. He laughed aloud as he watched me down the horrid stuff then gave me a minute to digest it straight while he popped the sprite can open. He poured half of it into the cup and lifted it to my lips bringing me instant relief. Though my throat still felt raw and ached terribly, the cool sensation washed down the bile coating the inside of my throat and instantly settled my quivering stomach.  Once I’d had enough, he sat it off to the side then scooped up the blanket from the floor and spread it to its full length then tossed it over us.  “I’m hot.” I mumbled. He smirked and pulled my half of the blanket down, revealing my nearly naked body once more. Though I was sure I looked like I was on my death bed, that didn’t stop his eyes from taking in every inch of my perspiring body and I snickered inwardly as I watched him watch me then finally closed my eyes. Just as I began to find an ounce of comfort, the shirt that was still raised up under my arms became entirely too annoying, so I leaned over onto my side and pulled the moist fabric completely off. I felt completely at ease in only my bra and panties and once I found a decent position, I tossed a leg over Chris’s and snuggling up against him.  “So you just gone use my leg as a pillow huh?” He chuckled. I nodded and nuzzled up as close to him as I could get, feeling even better the moment he turned onto his side and pulled me close to his bare chest.  “I’m taking you to a hospital in the morning, okay.” He spoke lowly after a few moments of silence.  “Why?”  “Because you’re sick Hope… you’re really sick and I can’t handle seeing you hurting like this. The only way you’re gonna get better is if you let me take you to the hospital so we can see what’s going on with you.” The way he grazed the tips of his fingers through my hair made it hard for me to keep my eyes open, but I fought to stay awake and listen to what he had to say.  “I think it’s just a little virus or something, but if you insist… fine.”  “Yes I insist, so don’t try to fight me on it in the morning. If I have to tie your little ass down in the car, I will.” He teased. “Whatever.” I giggled, nudging him in the chin with my head. I could feel him smiling as he moved to press his lips against my forehead and I wrapped an arm around his midsection and clung to him until we both eventually allowed sleep to claim us right on the bathroom floor. 

[ficdirectory]

The Fosters: Our Thoughts on Episode 5x04 “Too Fast, Too Furious”

It’s recapping time by your favorite twins (obviously other than Jesus and Mariana.)  As always, you can find @tarajean621‘s thoughts on Jesus and brain injury representation in italics below:

We’re Gonna Keep Doing STEAM Off Campus.  We’ll Let You Know When and Where.  Not:  Oh, Emma Kurtzman.  I love knowing your full name but I don’t love seeing girls be catty with each other.  (Also, I felt like I was back in the ‘80s for a second with Emma’s...not.  LOL.)

Congrats Again on the Award.  I Know How Hard You Guys Worked on It:  Way to go, Mariana.  Congratulate them and move on.

Is There a Story About Jesus and a Baseball Bat?  I Saw Your Door Was Smashed In.  Did He Do That?  I totally forgot Emma actually asked Brandon this!

Because, again, we cannot ask Jesus about the things he personally did or experienced.

Still Seeing a Fair Amount of Neuro Inflammation:  Okay, those are the scariest brain scans I have ever seen.  (From my understanding, healthy brain shows up white on a scan.  Dead or damaged brain shows up black.  It looks like Jesus’s entire brain is hurt here.  Good thing I’m obviously not a professional...because to me it looks like he is doing a heck of a lot better than that scan shows.)

Also who wants to have a CT scan at 7:12 AM???  That sounds awful!  (Time code that is somehow on every image of the scan...)

Yeah, I’m hoping the scans up on the lightboard are not his.

Meaning He Has to Stay on His Anti-Seizure Meds/Doc, I Can’t Even Get It Up!/Jesus!  I was surprised at this exchange, mostly because it means a doctor visit regarding his anti-seizure meds had not happened yet, even though Moms knew he had stopped taking them because of the “side effects.”  I assumed a visit like this would have taken place last season, led by Moms, because they’d know how important it is for Jesus to take his meds and not have to deal with terrible (fake) side effects.  

Last season, I mentioned Moms could be relieved on some level by the “side effects” of Jesus’s medication, and that is why they insisted he stay on them.  This is seeming more likely now.

I would be interested to see how Moms would react to any of their other children bringing up legitimate (if made-up-for-TV) side effects of a medication to their doctor.  99% sure it would not be something they would silence. :/

As You Can See, There’s Still a Little Issue of Impulse Control:  Stef, we need to have a conversation.  This is totally the correct forum for Jesus to bring up medical concerns.  He has to advocate for himself when you and Lena show no inclination to bring up his difficulties on his current medication.  When you don’t make it clear to him that he doesn’t have to suffer needlessly with side effects and that getting on another medication is an option.    

This is not an impulse control issue.  This is not an impulse control issue.  This is not an impulse control issue.

This is a minor child from a marginalized group attempting to get the medical care he needs.  Do not minimize this.  Just because he is not as eloquent as a nondisabled person in advocating for himself does not mean that his needs are not valid. 

There Have Been Emotional Outbursts As Well/Yeah.  They’re Afraid of Me:  Having been on the receiving end of feedback about all the things I did wrong as a child because of my disability (from professionals to my parents) I can imagine it’s equally hellish to have to sit quietly by while your Moms list everything you’re doing (that would be valid if it was anybody else but because it’s you, it’s a symptom that makes them disappointed and fearful.) 

Instead of “telling on him” to his doctor, what about having a conversation among yourselves asking Jesus what would help minimize his stress?

This is also the second time Jesus has very specifically chosen a “public moment” of sorts to bring up a difficult topic of conversation.  (The last time being family dinner when Grandma came to town, and he said he was quitting therapy.)  This seems to be so that Moms will have a harder time dismissing his concerns out of hand. 

Why Do You Say That?/Because I Heard You Telling Mom All About What a Monster I Am:  Seriously, Lena.  You’re going to deny this now?  To his face?

Because he overheard you.  Let’s see you try to get out of this one.

That is Not What She Said:  ARE YOU KIDDING ME RIGHT NOW?

Now you’re just splitting hairs.  It is what she implied.

She Said That She Thought That I Was Dangerous/Honey, That’s Not What I Meant:  I’m pretty sure it is, actually, Lena.  You’re just afraid to admit it to his face...

Mama and I are Simply Concerned About Your Ability to Control Your Aggression, Love:  So patronizing.  Make it stop.  Also, Jesus is so humiliated.  

But what Lena said was that Jesus was dangerous.  And you didn’t correct her, Stef.

The Last Time He Went Off His ADHD Medication, He Also Had Some Anger Issues/Do You Think It Might Help If He Went Back on Them?  First of all?  The last time Jesus went off his ADHD meds he had wrestling as an outlet.  Jesus has no outlet right now.  This entire time, he’s needed something as an outlet to deal with what he’s feeling.

Secondly?  Jesus should have been back on his ADHD meds way earlier than this.  To not have him on medication he needs is just neglectful.  You can’t tell me it’s the first Dr. Danville is hearing of this.

And can we stop having full on conversations in front of Jesus like he’s not right here in the room with you?  

This is just getting silly now.  You can’t ignore one condition to favor another.  And hi, the person you’re discussing is in the room with you.

Let’s Try a Low Dose:  He should have been on a low dose ASAP not two months later...come on.  That’s just sloppy.

What Are We Gonna Do About My Problem?/We Can Try Other Anti Seizure Meds That May Not Have That Affect On You:  I love how Moms are still all about giving Jesus warning looks for daring to talk about impotence at a doctors’ appointment, when they talk about sex education at the dinner table... <-- Sarcasm

Yes, and Jesus keeps looking to Moms to see if they are going to let him mention his actual medical problem to an actual doctor.

Sweet/We Do Need Some Bloodwork, Though.../Okay.  Thanks Doc:  Like, it’s night and day how much better he feels when someone actually listens to him and takes him seriously.  Jesus shouldn’t have to go to the doctor to experience that.  (And I love the fist bump!)

Why Isn’t This Getting Any Better?  Isn’t the Brain Going to Heal Itself?/When Brain Cells Are Damaged or Destroyed, They Don’t Regenerate.  But the Brain Does Reorganize Itself:  Thank you!  Moms needed this reality check.  If they’re waiting for Jesus’s brain to ‘heal itself’ that’s not fair to Jesus...

I Just Want Our Sweet Boy Back/There’s No Pill or Combination of Pills That’s Going to Make Him Who He Used to Be:  Ugh.  Gut punch.  The only thing I can be remotely glad for is that Jesus isn’t in the room to hear this...  So damaging.  (Though I have no doubt he feels Moms’ lack of acceptance.  “This [Boy] is Unacceptable,” anyone?)

Your sweet boy did not go anywhere.  This kind of talk is so damaging.  He was literally right in front of you - you are choosing not to see him.  This is who he is now.  Please stop grieving your living child and start accommodating him.

Pan Dulce:  OMG I want Mariana to bring me snacks!  Yum!  (She looks way different in this episode, but I haven’t been able to put my finger on why exactly.)

We Have Enough Jammers.  We Need Blockers:  This doesn’t make sense.  I have never done roller derby, but I would think that the whole team could potentially block, but it takes a certain skill to jam...

If We Were at My Place.../I’ve Never Been Invited/It’s a Loft, Not a Dinner Party.  You’re Welcome Anytime:  Hahaha, Aaron!

Nice to See You, Aaron:  Yeah...so is the Door Open Rule optional for all now or did I miss the memo?

Come to My Place and Find Out/Okay:  Callie your face says a resounding NOT OKAY.  You don’t ever have to agree to something you’re not comfortable with.

Derby Stance:  I love seeing Mariana on the roller derby team, learning to skate and working with Ximena!  But all that falling!  Ouch!

They’re Going to Adjust My Meds and Then I Should Be Back to Normal/That’s Awesome:  Oh gosh.  No...  

If by normal, you mean “able to have sex,” then yes.  

What’s Going On, Emma?  You’ve Been Blowing Me Off Since Before You Left for Worlds/I Know What You Did to Brandon’s Door and to His Keyboard.  It Scares Me That You Would Do Something Like That:  Clear communication is a good step, but this TBI = AGGRESSION thing needs to be done.

But you didn’t actually ask him about it, which kind of sucks.

You Have Nothing to Be Scared Of.  I Would Never Hurt You or Anyone:  And then watch the next scene to see that Jesus Is Unreliable...because he was almost a dimensional person for a second.  So we have to be sure that’s undone ASAP so we can continue with TBI = AGGRESSION.

I Always Wanted to Go to Coachella:  And I always wanted a giant slide into a ball pit when I was a kid...  Brandon, seriously, how are you going to get the money for this?  Unless Grace is rich (which she could be given her AMAZING apartment...)

Hey!  Why Can’t You Keep Your Damn Mouth Shut?!  You Tell Emma About Your Stupid Little Room?!  Why?  So She’d Break Up With Me?!  It has to be so infuriating to know that everybody’s got their hands in your business because nobody trusts you.

She Overheard Mama Talking!/Specifically About Your Keyboard?!  Who Told Her THAT?!  “Try again.  Fail again.  Fail better.” - Samuel Beckett (at Brandon)

Seriously, Brandon. The lying, man.

Brandon!  Stop It!  Do You Want Him to Fall and Hit His Head Again?  He’s Got a TBI!  What Is The Matter With You?  Lena, it doesn’t feel any better when you say it like that...

Totally a true-to-life Mom reaction here, as annoying as it is.

Come On.  Let’s Go Back to the House:  Would you like to hold his hand while you’re at it, Lena?  Maybe pick him up and carry him?

He Should Be Giving You Space/I Shouldn’t Have Pushed Him/You’re Human.  I Would Have Done the Same Thing: Why exactly should Jesus be giving Brandon space?  He does not get a free pass for all his meddling.

I’m Not Really Great at Not Being Good at Things:  Always good to be self aware, Mariana, but like Poppy says.  You gotta start somewhere to be great.

I Think Most Women Are.../Really?  Hahaha!  I was waiting for Ana to say something here.  A table full of guys talking about what they know for sure about women...  (Also, can Isabella be any cuter?  I love that AJ still loves to play with her <3 )  Plus, it’s good to see a family dinner scene with Mana and company (seriously do Mike and Ana have a smushed couple name?)

I Bought Vegan Ice Cream.  That Was My One Scary Thing for the Day/LOL.  It’s Not So Bad.  My Moms Get It Sometimes:  Hahaha!  Grace and Brandon’s text thread is everything.

Cortney/I Kinda Need Your Help:  No...  Hang up, Brandon.  (And why do you still have her number in your phone?)

We Haven’t...and I Think We’re Going To..and I Don’t Know What’s Okay and What’s Not Okay.  I Don’t Have Anyone Else to Ask:  Um.  Here’s a wild idea, Callie.  Why don’t you ask Aaron what’s okay and what’s not?  This scene just felt awkward to me.  

I know if somebody came to one of my acquaintances who had a disability to talk to them about what I might like, I’d probably not take it well.  We’re not interchangeable.  People in minority groups can’t just be swapped one for another.  It would be like someone asking a random fostadopted teen what you liked, Callie.  Who’s to assume that person would know anything about you personally?  

Future Jammer Here:  Uh oh.  Poppy does not like that...

Did You Find Anything?/This/Whoa!  It’s Date Night!  Okay.  AJ and Ana was a dynamic I never knew I needed.  They’re great!  Now put that ring back guys, before Mike catches you!

Mason!  Not in the Face!/Looks Like You Could Use Some Help:  Mason, you stinker.  Also, oh Grace, I’m sure this not going to end well...like, when you realize you’re babysitting for Brandon’s ex’s child...

What Are You Doing Here?/Look, I Gotta Know.  Are We Done?/I Don’t Think So?  Wow, Emma.  That’s a resounding welcome...

For someone who cannot “handle” going to school, Jesus sure managed to get there by himself okay.  

I Don’t Think You’re Mad That Brandon Took Me to Get an Abortion.  I Think You’re Mad That I Had One/I’m Mad That You Didn’t Tell Me About It:  I’m glad they’re finally talking about this.

Or maybe he’s mad because of both things.

Mariana Told Me...Is That How You Feel?/I Guess.  Yeah/Then How Can You Not Be Mad at Me If That’s Something You Really Believe?  I appreciated that Emma asked, “Is that how you feel?” after sharing what she heard from Mariana instead of having Jesus need to articulate it himself.  So much easier to just say yes or no.

I Would Have Done It Anyway Because It’s My Body!  I appreciate that Emma does not hold back here.  She says what’s true.  Not what she thinks Jesus wants to hear.

I Can’t Be With You If You Feel Angry or Betrayed By That.  I Also Can’t Be With You If You Keep Tormenting Your Brother...Because He Was Trying to Help You.  Because He Loves You:  Brandon’s “help” involved actively shutting Jesus out of knowledge he deserved to have the minute Emma wrote him that letter.  Lets not forget that.

Also ‘stop tormenting your brother’ makes it sound like Jesus is a toddler....

I--/Don’t Say Anything.  Don’t Tell Me What I Want to Hear.  Tell Me What’s True:  Seriously!  Can we get ONE episode where Jesus is not silenced.  He has the right to say what’s true for him.  And it wouldn’t hurt Emma to stick around longer than two seconds after she asks him to tell her what’s true. Give him time to figure out what he wants to say...

And then walk away before he has the chance to say anything.

I Don’t Think I’m Tough Enough/Don’t Do That to Yourself.  Get Back Out There/Don’t Let Her Make You Do Something You’re Not Ready For:  Mixed messages from Coach Ximena and little sis Poppy.  What are you gonna do, Mariana?

That Was a Dirty Hit/I Was Just Trying to Get Mariana Mad So She Would Hit Harder:  Oh gosh, now the sisters are fighting.  The more this happens the more I am worried about what it will mean for Mariana.  I really like Ximena.  But I am really nervous about Poppy...

Brandon Said Something About It Being Tense with [Jesus]?/Yeah.  Jesus Has Been Taking Out A Lot on Him But Brandon’s Being Very Patient:  Okay. Brandon has not had the Super Sib cape in a while.  Better find it in those boxes and dust it off, Stef... <-- Sarcasm

Wow.  So, no one is on Jesus’s side here.  In Stef’s eyes, withholding information was the right call.  Brandon did no wrong.  He is being long-suffering and “very patient” in the face of Jesus’s unreasonable anger.  Gross.

I Bought Ana an Engagement Ring.  I’m Proposing Tonight/Think She’s Ready For That?  Are you, Stef?  Your ginormous smile of fear would indicate no...

Give Her Some Time.  You’ll Know When She’s Ready.  Women Are Excellent at Dropping Hints:  Wow, way to totally deflate Mike’s good news, Stef...

You’re So Strong.  You’re Such a Hot Man.  And I Love Your Stubble:  Callie, stop.  You’re embarrassing yourself.  For real.  I can barely stand to watch this scene, the secondhand embarrassment is so strong...

Guys Are Into That Kinda Thing, Right?/Not This Guy: Right, Aaron???  Super weird!

Why Are You Talking to Cole About Us?/Who Else Am I Supposed To Talk To?  I’m Not Allowed to Talk to Anybody About It:  I’ll give you a hint.  You’re in his apartment right now.  He’s your boyfriend. He has a great tiger tattoo on his arm.  Should I go on?  LOL...

When Are You Gonna Move Back With Mommy and Me?  Awkward....

Is It Okay If I Leave My Skates Here.  It’s Just Easier If I Don’t Have to Lug It All Around:  ...and I don’t know...less chance of getting caught by your parents, who don’t know you joined the junior roller derby team.  (Who’s paying for that?)

Do You Wanna Join Us?/Sure.  That Sounds Cool:  That sounds suspect.  Especially as Poppy just heard Ximena say she’s proud of you, Mariana...  Please be careful.  I feel like Poppy’s more than a little jealous...

I Can Sometimes Be a Bit of a Caretaker:  Understatement of the year, Brandon...LOL.

It’s a Two-Way Street.  We Both Made It Hard and We Both Made It End.  There.  Is That Clean Enough For You?  AJ, I missed you. 

 I’m Gonna Go Stay With My Dad for a Little While/Wait.  Is That Because of Me?  Don’t Do That.  Please:  I can’t help but think this is a direct result of Jesus’s conversation with Emma.  He’s trying to make things right with her, so he’s making things right with Brandon.  It’s not wrong, but it does feel like manipulation.  When it’s likely Trying to Avoid Abandonment 101.

^She’s not wrong.

I Have Been Really, Really Angry Because I’m Afraid That I’m Never Going To Be The Same Again/You’re Not:  Wow, Brandon.  Just drop that bomb.

This is so refreshing.  Honesty.  Finally.

When My Hand Got Smashed, I Thought My Life Was Over:  I appreciate what Brandon’s trying to do here, but it really feels like a conversation Moms should be having with Jesus.  Stef’s been shot.  She’s had surgery that forever altered her body.  Lena had to make the most impossible choice in order to save her own life.  Talk to Jesus, Moms.  Be real with him.  Be honest.  So that it doesn’t fall on Brandon’s shoulders to have all these talks about really important stuff with Jesus.  He is not the parent.  You two are.

Part of me also thinks, though, that Jesus may be able to hear Brandon better because they’re closer in age.  However, he absolutely needs to have these conversations - with as many people as possible, especially Moms - and then have them again, because this kind of thing is not something you just get over.

I Thought I’d Never Play Piano Again/Yeah, But You Did/I Had to Learn to Play Differently.  It Took A Lot of Hard Work and A Lot of Time.  If You’re Patient, You Can Come Back From This:  The implication here seems to be that if Jesus works hard enough he can get back to where he was.  That it just might look “a little different.”  Which means well but is ultimately harmful for someone with a disability to hear.  Jesus’s recovery is not solely based on how hard he works.  Some things he may never get back.  

Feel free to chime in here, Tara, I feel like I’m veering into your lane.

Yes, this is the quintessential Overcoming Disability Speech: Hard Work And Patience Pays Off.  

Except the doctor literally just said that brain cells do not regenerate.  New pathways are made, but the damage remains no matter how hard Jesus works.  Also, telling Jesus to be patient implies that he should not feel angry or sad or frustrated, in my opinion.

Just Because Things Won’t Be The Same Doesn’t Mean They Won’t Be Okay:  Except you kinda just gave Jesus an Overcoming Disability speech.  And now you finish with things will be different but they will be okay?  Mixed messages galore.  My goodness.

I actually agree wholeheartedly with this sentiment, just not the stuff beforehand.

Now I Just Gotta Convince Emma of That:  Still not sure where this is gonna go, but we’ll see.

It’s Okay/Thanks, Man:  Yes, thanks, Brandon.  Is that a new Super Brother cape?  Oh, it’s just freshly laundered?  My bad.  It smells amazing.  You’re amazing.  <-- Sarcasm 

Also maybe since Moms watched them make up, Lena can calm herself down.

I’m glad Jesus is getting some reassurance somewhere.  And yes, well-timed hug is well-timed.

I’m Not Ready to Have Sex Either/But You Were Going to Anyway?  Why?  Such an important conversation for Callie and Aaron.  I love that he asks her why and really wants to know the answer.

When We Are Ready, Like, Both Of Us.  There’s Some Stuff I’m Gonna Need to Ask You/There’s Nothing You Can’t Ask Me.  Just...Please Ask ME:  Clear communication is still my favorite.

Oh My God!  What Did You Do!/Nothing.  I Mean, I Fell at School.  I Didn’t Even Know That Was There/Honey, You’ve Gotta Be More Careful. Let Me Get You Some Arnica for That:  Seriously, Lena?  Your daughter has a massive bruise on her thigh and you’re going to accept “I fell” as the reason?  “I fell” is a textbook coverup answer.  Push her on this.  (We are also terrified about where Mariana’s mystery bruises might lead...)

Yes, lets see.  We have Mariana coming home with suspicious bruises + a (TBI = AGGRESSION) storyline.  What could that equal?  I’m seriously freaking out about this.  So not funny.  So gross.  So irresponsible.  BUT I will try to withhold judgement..........................

We’ve Been Looking Into What It Would Take to Get You Back Into School:  It’s about time.

Finally.

You Would Need an Assessment to See Where Your Learning Is and How You’re Retaining Information/Okay/Okay:  Jesus is taking this all in, but Lena looks terrified and Stef just seems annoyed at having to have this conversation at all.  It’s like they don’t even want to be around him.  He’s your son, Moms.  Parent him.  Be there.

And Once We Know Exactly Where You Are You’ll Probably Get A.../A Paraprofessional:  Except you literally have no idea yet if Jesus would even require this until he’s assessed!  Until the IEP is drawn up and it’s determined what Jesus actually needs.  So why bring it up now?  

Yes, I agree.  This is jumping the gun, IMO.

Wait.  What Is That?/It’s an Educational Aide Who Will Go With You to All Your Classes:  Also known as a Social Alienator...

Is That Like a Babysitter?/No:  Yes.  It totally is.  Mine used to yell at other kids who got too close to me and report back to my Mom if I did or said anything she didn’t like.  It felt like I was constantly being spied on.

It is exactly like a babysitter, Jesus.

No, No, No, No!  Come On!  Absofreakinglutely Not!  Come On!  You and I both, Jesus...

Jesus.  If You Would Like to Go Back to School Then You Really Have No Other Choice:  I’m sorry.  Did I somehow miss the memo that school was now optional?  Also, patronize him a little more Stef.  Back him  into a corner with “You have no other choice,” and watch what happens.  

Just because he has a brain injury now doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve to be heard out when he has concerns about things.  And again I really think Moms jumped the gun even talking about the aide at this point.  Just because one kid needs one doesn’t mean Jesus necessarily will.  I feel like taking things one thing at a time would be a lot better for him.

Because school is an ultimatum and you’re a psychic, Stef?  Jesus has not even been assessed yet - an aide is not a foregone conclusion.  Slow down.

Okay!  I WON’T Go Back!  Look We Know That Things Are Never Gonna Be The Same.  So I Can Get My GED and I Can Work Construction with Gabe!  I mean, Moms, you kinda walked right into that one...

No!  That’s Not an Option!/That IS an Option!  I’m 16!  I Can Drop Out!  It’s My Life!/Jesus!  No!  Jesus!  Yes!  

Ahhhhhh, I lived for Jesus speaking out when Stef tried to shut him down again!  Make them take you seriously.  Make them listen.  

How Was Dinner?/Kinda a Disappointment.  I Did Get This/What?  Oh, My God!  Hahahaha!  Ana and AJ again.  Amazing.

Gabe Will Be Out of Town for a Few Days, But You’re Welcome to Stay Here Til Then/Are You Sure Your Moms Are Okay With This?  No.  I’m positive they aren’t.

For more: Fosters Recaps

[thelittleredheadedmusician]

Glittered

Day 2 of Batfam Week is Shenanigans so please enjoy some Dead Robins Club pranks. As usual it can be found here on my ao3. Rating: G Words: 1,538 Gen

Stephanie smirked, the water balloon in her left hand had been filled with liberal amounts of glitter before being filled with water. As had all the balloons she had in the bag that rested against her hip. Peering around the corner she could just make out her target. Standing in the middle of the large, wood paneled, filled with priceless antiques – most of which were Wayne family heirlooms – hall was Dick Grayson. He shifted his weight on the plush carpet, eyeing a particularly large vent opening. Steph’s smirk grew, he thought that she had gone through the manor’s duct work. Boy was he going to be surprised.

Readying the balloon, she ducked out into the hall with a battle cry of “Hey Dick-face!” Chucking the soon to be glitter grenade with perfect aim as Dick whirled on her, startled. It hit him square on the chest, bursting with a splash that soaked Dick and simultaneously coated him in glitter. Steph took a second to admire her work before giving a whoop and sprinting away.

She ducked into a spare bedroom and shoved herself under the desk. When she heard Dick run past she wiggled out and doubled back. Her remaining balloons were still intact but Steph needed to regroup with the rest of her team. Her route through the Manor was a bit overkill in how elaborate it was, a way to keep herself from being found and followed as well as to throw off suspicion on where their base of operations was.

She reached the laundry room and lightly knocked three times before slipping through the door. Damian and Jason looked up at her from where they were making more glitter balloons in the sink. “Dick now looks more disco worthy than his old costume,” she said smugly.

“Ha! Nice. Is it just Cass left?” Jason asked. He deftly tied a balloon shut before adding it to the pile already filling a laundry basket they had commandeered.

“And Father. Unless we want to rescind Gordon’s immunity?” Damian raised a brow.

Jason shook his head. “We want Barbie to give us the video footage of this, we are not pissing her off.”

“Yeah, and I have to work with her. I’m not gonna go anywhere near her with one of these babies,” Steph said.

“-tt- Cowards.”

“So you’re going after Bruce?” Steph shot back at the youngest bird. She placed her hands on her hips as she raised a brow.

Damian sneered and Jason laughed. “Nah. B is mine. You two get to take Cass.”

“That hardly seems fair to Cassandra,” Damian said.

“Lookit ninja boy, we just went over the fact that I’m not stupid. You wanna take on the much older and more skilled ninja girl by yourself then be my guest.” Stephanie perched herself on the counter and carefully added more balloons to her bag.

Jason snorted. “Yeah Demon Brat, have fun and good luck. It was nice knowing you.”

Damian gave a short -tt- but was obviously defeated. He pulled on an overly large sweatshirt and started filling the pocket with balloons. Jason got rid of the evidence and grabbed the laundry basket with the remaining balloons for himself.

“Ok Dead Robins Club, I need a status report.” He looked at them seriously and Steph couldn’t stop her snort.

“Drake was taken completely unaware but has since notified the others via text message. Thomas was resigned to his fate but Grayson and Cassandra made attempts to avoid theirs.” Damian said equally serious.

Steph burst out laughing. The plan to glitter the others as a loving prank had been her own but she didn’t think that the boys would actually be down for it. It had turned their day into a quasi-spy mission and was a lot of fun.

“And Steph just took care of Dickiebird and I got Harper as soon as she stepped foot in the manor.” Jason nodded.

“Ohmygod. She was so confused and pissed!” Steph laughed. Damian smirked and surprisingly offered a fist bump which she eagerly accepted.

“Barbie is on our side, Bruce is oblivious, Alfred cannot know or I won’t get good cooking for a month, and Cass is on the run.”

Damian gave a curt nod and Steph jumped down. “That sounds right. So you’re going to hope Dick hasn’t tattled on us and surprise Bruce while we’re going after Cass. Alright team! Let’s do this!” She grinned at the boys who smiled back for once.

They crept out of the laundry room and Jason waved as he headed towards the study. Steph and Damian went the opposite way in search of Cass. They knew she would be expecting them by this point but if she would try and avoid the glitter or embrace it was unknown. The first place they were going to check for her was the smaller, secondary ballroom that Bruce had converted into a dance studio for her. Their route there was just as circuitous as Steph’s route to the laundry room. Doubling back multiple times and going out of their way in an attempt to not run into Alfred. As they neared the studio the sound of music could be heard from within.

Steph grinned at Damian who looked a tad surprised. She assumed he wasn’t expecting it to be so easy. Carefully they tiptoed closer and poked their heads into the door. There in the middle of the room was Cass in a ratty pair of pointe shoes practicing her turns. Damian slipped a balloon out of his pocket as Steph grabbed one of her own from her bag.

Cautiously they entered the studio, creeping along the back wall and hoping not to be seen. Suddenly Cass’s voice called out over the music. “Expecting you.” She continued her turns and made no move to run. Damian looked at Steph who just shrugged. Raising their balloons to strike Steph and Damian threw them at Cass with the same accuracy as they threw their batarangs. The other girl simply leapt out of the way, causing the balloons to burst and spatter across the floor.

Damian shared a wide-eyed look with Steph and the two began lobbing the balloons. Cass merely danced around them, avoiding every shot. Only her pointe shoes held any coating of glitter. This was merely because she danced through the puddles.

Finally, Steph and Damian moved to stand on either side of Cass. She gave Steph a wink and a small smirk before spinning on her toes with her arms held out. Steph and Damian both threw one of their last balloons. This time they shattered against Cass and doused her in glitter. She smiled as she admired her wet arms sparkling in the light. After a few seconds Cass returned to her dancing and Damian walked over to Stephanie.

His expression was puzzled, his brow pulled low over his teal eyes. “What was that about?”

Steph shrugged and Cass gave a soft hum before replying “Needed to earn it.”

Steph burst out laughing as her best friend smiled. Of course Cass wanted to be glittered, they just needed a dose a karma after sneaking up on the others. Steph ruffled Damian’s hair as he grumbled and swatted at her hands. “C’mon Dami, let’s find out how Zombie Boy fared.”

As it would happen, Jason had not fared well. He had successfully glitter bombed Bruce, just as Alfred walked in to the study. To say the elderly gentleman was not pleased with their shenanigans for the day would be a severe understatement. Both Steph and Jason were banned from the grounds, with the exception of the cave, for an indefinite amount of time. Meaning they were also not going to be the recipients of Alfred’s famous culinary skills during that time either. Damian was grounded from patrol and given an extensive chore list, he was not allowed out again until the list was finished.

Jason was pouting as he walked with Steph down the manor’s front steps. She was trying to console him to no avail when both of their phones went off. Each of them had received an email from Babs containing the footage of the day’s glitter attacks. Jason smiled as he watched Dick from three separate angles, thanks to the manor’s excellent security and Barbara’s overall skill and mischief of her own. “Alright, getting banned was worth it for this alone,” Jason laughed as he watched the video of Dick again.

Steph chuckled. “Totally. And they’re so gonna get us back and it’s not like we’re banned forever.”

“And Damian needs to learn how to do chores eventually. Otherwise he’ll turn out like Tim and none of us need that.”

Steph laughed as she reached her parked car and Jason his motorcycle. “So overall a win for the Dead Robins Club?”

Stuffing his phone in his pocket he pulled on his helmet and swung a leg over his bike before replying. “Definitely.”

Steph smiled as she watched him peel down the gravel drive. She took one last look at the manor she was temporarily barred from before getting in her own car and heading home. She would find out soon enough that its residents were plotting their revenge.

[catty-words]

(isn’t it a pity) you won’t kiss these rotten lips

summary: The study group gets together on the weekend to clean up the black mold. Set after Intro to Political Science Word Count: 2,300 Author's Note: A major thanks to @bethanyactually for keeping this one-shot IC. Her attention to detail saves my writing time and time again. This ends waaaaaaay canon-divergent. So. Please do yourselves a favor and imagine the happiest outcome you can when you get to the end.

(ao3)

~~~

“I still don’t understand why we had to come here on a weekend,” Britta whines. “Some of us have places to be and things to do.”

“You can complain anywhere, so we’re clearly not keeping you from anything,” Jeff says.

She sticks her tongue out at him.

“And some of us have people to do,” Pierce says. When no one acknowledges him, he adds, “‘Some people’ being me.”

Shaking his head, Jeff turns to accept a stack of five-gallon buckets from Annie, who offers him an appreciative smile.

He can’t help but give her one in return.

“Black mold sounds cool, like something that gives you a superpower that seems like it’d be fun on the surface but actually takes a lot of discipline to control,” Troy says thoughtfully. “Do you think one of us is likely to mutate?”

“As much as I’d like that,” Abed says, “one of us is more likely to die from inhaling black mold spores.”

“Oh.” Troy’s face falls.

“No one’s dying,” Annie says, narrowing her eyes at Abed as she tears open a packet of face masks. “I came prepared.”

“Of course you did.” Jeff smirks at her. She smacks him lightly on the arm, but that only makes his smile grow more pronounced.

When he notices Britta noticing the exchange, though, he immediately sobers up.

Annie is oblivious to the sudden tension. Everyone is, really, but the secrecy that once made Jeff’s tryst with Britta fun has been starting to irritate him. He hasn’t been able to put his finger on why that is, and it’s bugging him.

“I figured we’d split up into pairs,” Annie says as she passes masks to everyone. “Shirley couldn’t get anyone to watch her kids, so we have an even number.”

“Oh, sure,” Britta grumbles, “Mother Hen gets out of weekend volunteering.”

Annie shoots her a reproachful look. “We’ll be done by two o’clock, Sour Face.”

Britta scowls.

“I’ve split the mold-infested areas into problem sections.” She pulls out a map of the building and everyone crowds in around her. Jeff smirks when he notices she’s color-coded it and everything. “Troy and Abed, you guys’ll take the men’s bathroom. There’s a leaky faucet in there that should keep you guys occupied. And Britta, you’re with Pierce outside. There’s a bunch of mold on the building exterior, and somebody’s gotta make sure he isn’t picking at the hole in his cheek. I don’t want it getting infected.”

Britta groans but, surprisingly, doesn’t pitch a fit.

“I’m not a child, you know,” Pierce says, glaring at Annie while scratching at the irritated skin near the bandage.

She shakes her head at him before returning her attention to the map. “Jeff and I will be inside on the East Stairwell, where the mold is the worst. Everyone will have a bucket, gloves, sponges, and industrial-strength mold remover—which is a dangerous chemical, so be careful. You start by rinsing the area with soapy water and sponging off the top layer of mold. Everything underneath we can scrub off with the mold remover. Please, and I can’t stress this enough, keep your masks on at all times. Any questions?”

“Yeah,” Jeff says, “Can we make a pact that if any of us die trying to clean up Greendale’s mess, the others will sue the school for everything it’s worth?”

“Oh, so you mean nothing,” Britta says, and then laughs at her own joke.

Jeff rolls his eyes.

“This is serious, you guys.” Annie points a stern finger at both of them. “If we adhere to the safety guidelines I emailed everyone last night, everything will be fine. Okay?”

The group choruses their agreement.

“Good. Then let’s get to work.”

After stopping by the bathroom to fill their buckets with soap and water, they break into their assigned partners. As Jeff lugs the heavy bucket up the stairs to the top floor landing, he notices that the walls are caked with black fuzz. A shiver runs down his spine.

“Is it too late to set the place on fire and call it a day?”

Annie’s face is covered with her mask, but he can still tell that she’s smiling from the sparkle in her eyes. “Thanks for agreeing to do this. I think it’s going to be better for the school than any student-body president would have.”

A warmth permeates his chest and, god, Jeff hopes he’s not already dying from mold spore inhalation. “Well, you know,” he says, setting down the bucket. “No matter what you’re told…”

“Shut up,” she says with a laugh.

They start working in comfortable silence, scrubbing at two different sections of the wall but standing close enough to bump elbows frequently. Every time they touch, Jeff feels his stomach jump in anticipation. It’s ridiculous and he feels like some dumb high-schooler, but that doesn’t stop him from purposefully moving into her personal space a couple times.

Before they’ve made much headway against the mold, the water in their bucket turns a murky brown.

“We should change this,” Annie says, frowning at the opaque surface of the water as she wrings out her sponge.

“You’re the boss,” Jeff says, adjusting his rubber gloves before hoisting the bucket off the ground. “Lead the way.”

He follows her to the parking lot, where she gestures to a sewage drain and shrugs. “I’m not sure how safe it is, but this is what the dean wanted.”

He frowns. “Maybe we should have held a fundraiser and paid some professionals to take care of this problem.”

She slides her facemask down so it hangs loosely around her neck as he dumps the dirty water into the drain. “It’s not too late for that.”

Jeff hums in agreement.

A slimy residue remains even after the water’s been dumped, so Annie leads them around the back of the building where there’s a spigot built into the wall.

“Looks like Pierce and Britta have already taken a break,” he observes as he peels off his gloves.

She frowns, struggling to turn the handle. “Wonder how long they spent working.”

“It’s anybody’s guess, really,” he says, checking his phone. There’s actually a text from Britta, but he doesn’t bother opening it, instead opting to check his Twitter app.

When Annie finally gets the water to turn on, she gives it too much pressure, and it splashes everywhere, spraying Jeff with ice cold water and soaking the front of her overalls.

“Jeeze, Annie! Watch that thing. These are the shittiest jeans I own, but that doesn’t mean they weren’t expensive.”

She gapes at him, then looks pointedly at the large damp spot blooming across her chest. His gaze follows hers, and then it takes a healthy dose of willpower not to keep staring.

“Are you being serious right now?” she asks, narrowing her eyes dangerously and glancing over at the still-gushing stream of water.

Jeff pockets his phone and starts backing up slowly, holding his hands up in surrender.

“Wait, okay, let’s think this through. We have a lot of work ahead of us today, and—”

She cuts him off by placing her thumb over the spigot and sending streams of water spraying in every direction.

After standing stock-still for a second, Jeff licks his lips, blinks droplets of water out of his eyes, and throws his gloves and mask on the ground.

“You’re gonna wish you hadn’t done that,” he says, with as much menace as he can muster while feeling like a wet dog.

With a shriek, Annie takes off running in the direction of the quad. She’s fast, but his legs are longer. He gains ground quickly, tackling her into the grass.

For a moment, she continues to put up a fight, trying to crawl out from under him, but they’re both winded and laughing and soon she settles for twisting around so she’s facing him. He plants his hands on either side of her shoulders, hovering over her just high enough that he won’t squish her but low enough that they’re still touching.

“Sorry,” she says, clearly not sorry. But she grins mischievously and pushes her fingers through the wet hair sticking to his forehead, making it stand up in spikes, and Jeff can’t really bring himself to care. “I couldn’t help myself.”

His eyes dart down to her lips then back to her eyes, and Annie’s breath catches in her throat.

“That makes two of us,” he says, his voice low.

They stay suspended in that moment for a few seconds longer, Annie holding her breath and Jeff fighting with himself about what to do. Finally, he clears his throat and pushes off her, plopping into a seated position on the grass.

Annie sits up, too, and he tries not to notice how disappointed she looks.

“We should go back,” he says, plucking a piece of grass and avoiding her pleading look.

“Or we could…not,” she suggests, her voice gaining confidence when she hits the last word. Before Jeff’s heart even has the chance to leap all the way up into his throat, she’s pounced on him, lips finding his as easily as if they’re magnetized.

He wastes no time wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into a more comfortable position in his lap as she grabs his face in both hands and unleashes nearly a full year’s worth of pent-up tension between them.

Initially it’s fun, and Jeff thinks—not for the first time—that kissing Annie reminds him of delivering a well-crafted speech or commanding the courtroom. It’s an adrenaline rush like nothing else he’s ever felt and he’s carried away by the smooth motion of it, like she’s the moon directing the tides within him.

But then his phone buzzes in his pocket and he’s reminded of his unanswered text from Britta. Just like that, the moon tumbles out of the sky.

It takes Annie a second to realize he’s stopped responding to her, but when she does, she pulls away immediately. Her eyes search his face, and Jeff tries to hastily put some barriers back in place, which is easier said than done when her eyebrows are furrowed with concern and her kiss-swollen lips are pouting ever-so-slightly in disappointment.

“Did I…was it bad?” she asks, sliding off his lap and putting some distance between them.

He resists the urge to touch his lips, as if he could keep the feeling of Annie there a little longer. Instead, he clears his throat and gives her a disbelieving look. “Are you serious?”

When she ducks her head, a small smile playing at the corners of her mouth, he inwardly sighs in relief, thinking he’s successfully sidestepped having to give an explanation for his behavior.

But then she asks, “So if it wasn’t bad, what’s the problem?”

He frowns and meets her gaze, allowing her to ground him in this moment with the depth of her vulnerability.

Suddenly, the answer to it all is right there on the tip of his tongue, like some exasperated part of his brain is finally speaking loud enough to get through. And it’s saying, Well, Annie, the problem is that I’ve been screwing around with Britta all year, and, even though I’ve known there was something missing in that relationship from the start, I had myself convinced that what we had going was all I wanted. The problem is, I think I want something more from you than I should ever be allowed to have. The problem is, you keep giving me chance after chance to take what I want, but I can’t let myself do that, and I keep hurting you and I don’t know if that’s ever going to stop.

Out loud, he says, “I don’t want us to be caught slacking on the job. What would the others say?”

She frowns, clearly considering whether she’s going to accept his answer or probe further.

“You know you’d never hear the end of it, not after you included that section in your email about time management. I’m really just looking out for you.” He flashes her his most winning smile, trying to conceal his panic.

She studies him for a second, eyes sparking with curiosity, then smiles. He feels like she’s reading the discomfort in his every movement but is choosing to let it go without comment. “You’re right. It’s not very fair of me to slack off, especially since I plan on yelling at Britta and Pierce if they’re not back at their station.”

His mouth feels too dry, so he nods instead of responding.

Annie seems totally at ease as they walk back to the East Stairwell, but Jeff knows they haven’t put this incident completely behind them. The next time she brings it up, though, he’s going to be ready…he’s going to be honest.

He pulls out his phone and opens the texts from Britta. Without reading what she’s said, he types: hey, can we get together tonight? i think we need to talk.

[sunmichi]

mamihlapinatapei + gumusservi

wordstuck.co.vu Drabble Prompts / Accepting!( this stop is yours! @yubdot )

mamihlapinatapei: the wordless, yet meaningful look shared by two people who both desire to initiate something but are both reluctant to start. / gumusservi: the light of the moon as it shines upon the water.

Supposedly, the world began in darkness, before the sun and the division of night and day. It began in formless void: nothingness pregnant with possibility, ripe for creation, ripe with beginning. 

Contrary to popular belief, beginnings are not found in sunrises or even dawns—they are found in the deep of nights, with only the moon and stars overhead as light. They are found in the pitch-black depths of soil, where a seed is nestled, drinking up rainwater. They are found in the rotted damp hollow of a tree, where honeybees will eventually make their home. And they are found in the dimness of a bar around half-past-midnight, where inhibitions roam free of possession, and people become whoever they want to be, and don’t want to be, all at once.

Beginnings, perhaps, are hopeful by nature of their uncertainty, autonomously taking shape in the dark.

By that logic, Mi—in the few times she can be found out and about, for reasons she will only name as ‘experimentation’—traditionally searches out the darkest patch of any bar, pacing its floors and weaving between pulsing and still bodies and settling into the chair she deems furthest out of reach.

It just so happens that someone else beats her to it that particular night. But no matter—with a valiant nod, she seats herself just opposite the woman whose expression is illegible amidst the waves of hair that frame her face and the spasmodic lighting of the bar. And she proceeds to alternate between sipping at her gin and tonic, and diluting it with shots of peach Calpico, all without any spark of conversation. The other woman doesn’t seem to care either—silence sits comfortably between them, the only crossing of distance a few accidental glances.

By maybe her ninth or tenth or fifteenth sip in, though, Mi is stopped by cool fingers on her wrist. She glances up through sniffles and slightly tear-blurred vision over the lip of her glass to see the woman staring sternly—pointedly—at her, and their gazes hold for the first time that night. “Tch.” The scoff, though cutting after a nearly hour long silence, is softer than she expects it to be. “I don’t think you should be drinking that all by yourself.” And she must be right, because Mi promptly bursts into tears and giggles at the same time—which doesn’t seem to faze the woman, who gently pries already loose fingers from glass, soon slid safely away out of Mi’s reach.

“Are—are you going to help me then?” Her first words sound pitiful between gasps—all of it does. This is why she comes and goes alone.

“No.” The woman actually laughs, and Mi starts to pull her hand away in shame. Then– “We’re gonna toss this shit and take you outside—you don’t need any more of this, and neither do I, for once.”

Beginnings are found in a walk that takes you down a side alley punctuated by a timid exchange of names, then winding across a main street that’s now swarming with the chatter of drunkenness and freed inhibitions, and across grass where Yoobin stops abruptly with a tug on the back of Mi’s jacket, and gestures at a bench. “Here… Mi. Let’s sit.”

So they sit—Mi with legs folded and pulled into her chest as though to make herself as small as possible, and Yoobin with ankles crossed, swinging with an almost aggressive rhythm. The moon hangs low in the sky that night—maybe in the middle of rising, or suspended in falling; it reflects in the river water somewhere below their perch, where a group of teenagers congregate, profanities and boisterous laughter drifting up. Yoobin huffs, pulls out a cigarette and lights it, letting the smoke envelope them with the night breeze, the flickering orange against the navy of sky like a blaze—it looms in Mi’s peripheral vision, larger than life, and she wonders for a second, if Yoobin and her cigarette burning opposite the moon over the water, might be the sun.

“You knew I was gonna ask so—what were you crying for?”

Mi’s hands immediately jump to her cheeks, where tears have dried, as though the question is a reminder. “Um.” She barely knows this woman—she doesn’t know her. She doesn’t even know how to answer the question for herself. Maybe that’s another reason she comes and goes alone—no one to answer to. But between the moon and the sun and remnants of alcohol and peachy sugar, there’s nothing to hide. “Sometimes, when I haven’t felt anything for a while, I like to… I need to… feel again,” she mumbles, resting a cheek on her knees and glancing up at Yoobin through the puffs of smoke. Yoobin is staring back at her so intensely that she drops her gaze. She doesn’t know if it makes sense—but she knows it’s honest, by the way her cheeks heat up, and by the way Yoobin chuckles and turns and says no more until some fifty minutes and another cigarette later when she tosses the butt, stands up, and announces it time to go home.

Beginnings, apparently, are also found lining the evening river as it ambles into night. They are found along its banks, where the breeze ruffles the grass and the hair of two girls that find themselves spending Wednesday evenings—then every other evening—seated on a bench, passing post-work time in amiable and easy company. Beginnings are found in the gradual increase of laughter, hesitant at first, then fearlessly—like the breaking open of a dam. They are found in shared glances and cringingly sheepish glances-away, in the sharing of an inconspicuously hidden beer—divided up three-quarters to one. They are found in the accidental bumping of feet, and then the not-so-accidental linking of arms, gazes lingering too long, and fingers gently braiding thick dark locks. They are found in almosts and parting hugs and joking handshakes, in nearly-there’s and see-you-tomorrow’s that keep them until eleven-p.m., until finally—

“Yoobin-ah!… –we only ever see each other in the evening. I wanna know where you go off to at night.”

Yoobin halts mid-step—Mi catches the single laugh that shakes her shoulders as she turns slowly, with an expression that can most closely be considered as mischievous. “Home. That’s all—but if you’re that curious, maybe it’s about time you discovered for yourself.”

Beginnings—although they are not found in sunrises, are certainly found in the sunlight that filters through Saturday-morning curtains to fall over bedcovers, and one shoulder tucked into another such that they rise and fall together. They are found in the smile—genuinely and definitively a smile—that makes its way over Yoobin’s face when two pairs of eyes flutter open in tandem, and a whisper: “I could grow to like this,” and another, just trailing a beat after: “I think I already have.”

Beginnings cannot stay beginnings forever. Although they are found in lack-of-form, in voids and uncertain emptinesses, the universe tends toward entropy—a trajectory of discord and turmoil. Sometimes—often—always, they lose the safe cover of darkness, bombarded by the burdens of the day. Beginnings become tainted with weariness, phone calls that go nowhere—not down, but not up either—flatlining. They become tainted by the reality that two similar poles can repel each other beyond reconciliation, any attempt resulting in frustration, tired sighs, a reaching toward each other that falls just short. Sometimes beginnings end abruptly and drop steeply into the following chapter, but sometimes they draw out so long you lose your place.

Somewhere along that narrative, a beginning repeats itself: the moon hangs full and low over the river, opposite the flickering sunlight Yoobin’s cigarette, which Mi sees more frequently these days—although that might just be due to how infrequently she sees Yoobin. How did they get here, so faded?

Their legs are tangled together, intertwined with no beginning or end, but Yoobin leans back, palms braced against grass, and Mi curls over herself, breathing in each dose of secondhand-smoke-and-river-air. Somehow, each segment of quiet seems longer, and the words that divide the quiet more abrupt.

“Mi-yah…” After eleven months, Mi can describe Yoobin’s voice in this way: it’s assertively soft, strong, surprisingly cutting for its low frequency. Wise. Courageous. But this time, it carries a tenderness she’s rarely heard before, and she shifts toward it, denim rustling as she turns to face Yoobin and leans into her despite herself.

“I know.”

Yoobin laughs gently, and ruffles Mi’s hair. Like always, but there’s a lingering this time, the same kind of lingering that trails each of their sentences. “What? What do you know?”

Mi laughs too, takes a shaky breath, prolongs the end. “That you just farted. And!—you shake your dandruff into my hood when you think I’m not looking.”

“Yah! I’m not you,” comes Yoobin’s incredulous reply, and a smack to accompany it. But then they fall into an uneasy but necessary silence again, and Mi knows—they both do, and they both know the other knows. With that assurance, Mi breaks the silence first this time.

“Remember the first night we did this? It’s a full moon again.” She’s almost expecting the light smack to her shoulder.

“Pfff—you’re such a sucker for symbolism.”

“Like you’re not! You’re into art—that’s practically as symbolic as it gets!” They share a brief laugh of respite. “Maybe we should have started this on a new moon.”

Yoobin snorts again. “Yeah right—you were bawling over your gin and tonic like a baby, and I had to save you! We didn’t have that luxury of choosing.”

Mi elbows Yoobin’s knee in protest, but says nothing in reply for a while. “But we have that luxury of choosing now.”

“…Yeah.” It’s not until Mi catches sight of Yoobin’s extended hand around her shoulder, oddly blurred and swimming in her vision, that she realizes she’s crying. But she takes it—realizes that the soft palm she grasps with her own is wet, that Yoobin’s been crying too. They shake—a deal, mutual agreement, a mutual choosing—but they don’t let go. Fingers lace together, each set rough against the other, calloused with different weights: hammers and splinters, canvas and academia, wanderlust and responsibility and anger and apathy, but woven together—one last time—with a tenderness found only in love.

They say all beginnings come to an end. But there’s nothing to say that once a beginning is over, there cannot be another. Renewal, just as much as entropy, is a law of the universe, just as the moon shines over the water faithfully each dark-by-dark. The day can change you, but the night welcomes you back all the same.

[justjessame]

A Little Ass and A Lotta Sass Chapter 28: Cravings, Exhaustion, and a Healthy Dose of RAGE...Or, Hadn't Callie's Pregnancy Been Too Idyllic?

Did my life change once I became Negan’s Mrs? Not really. Not openly. He didn’t force our people to kneel for me, not that he didn’t fucking offer the ‘honor’ to me. I’m not entirely sure what look crossed my face when he gave me the option, but seeing his grin grow, it must have been pretty fucking funny.

Laura found the entire situation funnier than I did. Teasing me with “Mrs. Negan” every now and then to see my glare flash at her. I’d found a friend in my head guard, and she got far more leeway with the teasing than anyone else would have dared to try. Friendships blossom as a woman grows to the size of a barge and she has to ask for help every time she wants to get up from a seated or prone position, I tell ya. And Laura was becoming very skilled at craning my ass up from wherever I’d dare to sit.

As the months continued to flicker past, and our little monster continued to grow inside of me, the anticipation grew. Along with my hormonal mood swings.

I’d given up on the pregnancy book. I’d decided that learning MORE about the horrors that awaited me at the end of this never ending tunnel were better left as a surprise.

Negan had thrown himself into build a nursery mode. He declared the nursery off limits to me. Promising that as soon as he was finished, I’d be welcome to see the majestic room that would be fit for our little demonic offspring.

The problem with that edict was this: the date was looming near and I still hadn’t gotten invited inside. That and the CONSTANT fucking noise. Pounding, growling, cussing, and once I even swore I heard him carrying a full blown screaming match inside. I was worried, not only fearing that our baby was going to have to sleep in a damn drawer in our dresser, but also because I couldn’t fucking rest with all the fucking noise. Not a fucking nap to be had, and there were fucking nights that he’d wear my ass out from multiple shaking orgasms, only to leave our bed and start up again.

I wondered, while he was pounding in the nursery at all hours day and night, who the fuck was running the Sanctuary?

I shouldn't have worried about that. Laura laughingly told me that he was running the whole damn place from the nursery. Using the walkie, hell having meetings, all while working hard to build the furniture for the baby nightmare.

One evening, after we’d had a dinner that I’d fixed in our own kitchen, Negan seemed to realize how damn huge I was, how close to show time. I saw something fight across his features, but as fucking exhausted I was by the tiny bit of rest I was getting, I couldn’t fathom what it was.

“Baby girl,” his voice would always be one of my favorite parts of him, I swear. “Aren’t you supposed to be having weird cravings?” That’s what was flickering inside his mind? The fact that I wasn’t asking for pickles and ice cream?

I shrugged. “Not all women do.” I yawned and stood to collect our empty plates. He rose with me, rubbing that part of my back that was a constant knot. And I leaned into him, the length of me against the front of him. I swear, between the massage he was giving that damn knot, the scent of him, and his heat, I drifted off standing up.

I woke up in our bed and knew that I had fallen asleep standing up. I was curled into his warmth, his arms wrapped around me, and my head on his chest. I was just cuddling deeper when I realized he wasn’t asleep. Propping my chin on his chest, I could see his eyes on me in the dim light from the bathroom light he’d left on.

“What are you staring at?” I asked, my voice dry from sleep. His lips curled in a smile, those damn dimples deepening.

“The mother of my baby.” He answered, his hand coming up to touch my face. “The exhausted mother of my baby.” The pad of his thumb brushed under my eye, touching the dark circles I wore lately. “Why didn’t you tell me you weren’t sleeping?”

I chuckled. “Because, Negan,” I dropped my head back to his chest, snuggling into his t-shirt. “I didn’t want to stop whatever progress you were making in the nursery.” I heard him inhale. Oh, now you realize you made enough fucking noise to raise the dead.

And then he chuckled, low and deep, causing something to stir deep inside of me. And I wasn’t talking about our little devil spawn. I felt his lips touch my hair, and I could hear his smile in his voice. “My progress?” Another chuckle. “Sweetheart, I’m not sure progress is the right fucking word.”

I considered what he was saying. Did that fucking mean that NOTHING was built? That our baby was literally going have to sleep in a fucking dresser drawer? Shit. “Not going well?” I was shocked at how unconcerned I managed to sound. Because I was more than fucking concerned, let me assure you.

“Nothing makes sense in the fucking instructions.” He said, building momentum as he went. “So I opened a different box, a different fucking piece of the picture, and those fucking instructions made less fucking sense.” I kept my face down, hiding the shock, and the freak out that I felt building. “Which made me open another box-” Dear fucking God, I could see it, the entire fucking nursery wall to wall with pieces of everything with no discernible fucking rhyme or reason. Fuck. “It’s chaotic there. Fucking chaos.” I could hear that it wasn’t exactly something he was proud of, that he was as irritated with himself as I was freaked out by the thought of Baby Negan sleeping in a fucking drawer. “And I’ve had my best fucking people up here, trying to fucking make sense of it. I fucking swear the instructions aren’t in fucking English, or Spanish, or fucking a language known to man.”

Fuck. We’re screwed, I thought, directing the fear at Satan’s grandkid. You better be fucking small, little one, because that fucking drawer is gonna be a tight fit.

“We could always just borrow some stuff from Alexandria.” I was careful NOT to say ‘from Dad’. Negan’s ego at failing in this ONE task he’d set for himself would fucking go into overload at the mere mention of my dad saving the fucking day.

I felt him to fucking rigid under me. Fuck. “I don’t think that’s necessary, princess.” Sure, it’s not fucking necessary at fucking all. I’m sure the baby will love to lay in a mass of wood and screws. I mean, the pieces are all there, they just aren’t in the right order. It’s the thought that counts, right?

As I lay with my husband, in our bed, letting my exhaustion win and pull me under, my final thought was of our tiny little devil, horns and all, smiling up at me from my underwear drawer. All those fucking pieces of lace and satin cradling the tiny red body, and the little forked tongue flicked out at me.

 No, I don’t fucking actually think that my little nugget is a demon. I woke up and remembered what I had drifted off to, and wanted to smack myself. Vivid fucking dreams were a really shitty part of this pregnancy, but that one fucking pissed me off. I may tease, internally, Negan’s biological father’s identity, but our baby had just as much me as him, so I was fucking certain that they would come out looking human. Hell, Negan looked like a fucking walking wet dream, so I had good cause to feel confident that we’d made a pretty baby.

It was exhaustion. Coupled with irritation and fear of our lack of completed nursery. And my internal urge to compare my husband to his fallen angel father didn’t help.

When I woke up, Negan wasn’t in bed, and I was tangled up in ALL of the blankets. Which added exponentially to my already unwieldy self. I was groaning, and fighting to get free and up, when he peeked out of the bathroom. I could see his smirk, but I also saw him coming to free me, so I didn’t bite his hand when he started loosening me from the mess I’d created during sleep. Once the blankets and sheets released me, he gave me his hands and pulled me to a sitting position. Ugh. I would need a literal crane soon. I fucking knew it.

Negan sat beside me, pulling me into his side. “Feeling better?” He tipped my chin so he could look into my face. His thumb ran under my eyes again, and I wondered if the circles were less raccoon-like yet.

I nodded, smiling up at him. I could go to bed feeling so fucking irritable at his stubbornness, but wake up and see him and feel far better than I should. My hand went to my huge bump and I felt our baby nudge me. Negan’s hand joined mine, and there it was again. A little push. A nudge to say “yeah, I’m awake too.”

“Active today,” Negan whispered, kissing my temple. “Seems our little one isn’t as opposed to mornings as their mama is.” His eyes, such a gorgeous shade of honey brown today, were sparkling.

I smirked up at him. “Hey, their mama doesn’t complain nearly as much as she used to about waking up early.” I reminded him, and watched his eyes darken at the memories of all the ways he’d taken to convince me. “You know, husband of mine, I think that you and me, and this destroyed bed could take a few minutes to remind me how fucking amazing mornings can be.” I raised an eyebrow, and watched him consider it.

“Shit, what I wouldn’t fucking GIVE to give into you right fucking now, wife.” His smile grew. “BUT,” he stood up and held out his hands for me to take. “You have a previous engagement this morning.”

My nose scrunched up as he pulled me upright. “You’re turning me DOWN? For sex?” I felt a glare form on my face. Damn it, I wanted to, NOW. “And what stupid fucking engagement trumps me, and you, NAKED?”

He laughed, the boisterous one that bubbled around him. “Your face, Callie, is fucking priceless when you’re denied.” He shook his head and tugged me to the bathroom. “Nothing trumps you naked, princess, nothing.” He started to undress me, tugging my tank over my head, shucking my sweats off my legs. “Except,” he stopped me reaching for him. “Your check up with the doctor.” Fuck.

He pushed me toward the shower streaming warm water that he’d set as I woke up. Ugh. I hadn’t paid attention when he’d rescued me from the bed, but he’d already dressed. Which meant, I was going to have a lonely fucking shower. Yuck. He saw my pout and gave another bark of laughter. Asshole.

“Just think, darlin’. The last time we held off, we nearly fucking destroyed a wall.” And with that fucking reminder, he walked out of our bathroom whistling.

 I showered, growling about the indignity of having to do it solo. Of being denied the ONE thing that made mornings fucking bearable. Of the fact that he seemed so fucking unaffected by the loss of it. Of me. Of sex. Of sex WITH me.

When I stepped out of the shower, grabbing the towel he’d set out for me, I was still steaming. Seriously? I FINALLY got rest. I was FINALLY fully awake. And he’d fucking say “nope?” Fucker. Asshole. I kept up a steady stream of names and rage as I dried off. As I brushed through my wet hair. As I braided my hair. When I stomped into our bedroom and found it empty, I literally growled. Out loud.

Grabbing a pair of leggings. Throwing on a bra and a loose fitting tank so my bump wouldn’t be restricted. Sliding my feet into the same shoes that I’d worn last because they were easy to reach, I kept up my internal cursing of my husband. The father of my little demon seed. I knew he’d be in the kitchen. After all, it was morning and I had to fucking eat.

And there he was, whistling as he put food on a plate for me. Turning to smile at me, dimples full blown and looking supremely fucking content. Asshole. “Come have your breakfast, sweetheart.”

Fuck you, I thought, but I took a seat when he held out my chair. I picked up my fork and started to eat. Not waiting for him to join me. Screw him. Screw our morning ritual. Screw the fucking birds and the sun and Dr. Carson and his fucking groping hands that he needed to use to make sure baby demon seed was where they were supposed to be. Just fucking screw everything.

Yes, I was being irrational. Of course some tiny part of the rational me, the one not overwhelmed by hormones jacked up by an alien invader knew that. But that part was being smothered by the other part. The irrational hell bitch who wanted her morning orgasm like normal people wanted their morning coffee.

I chewed through my entire breakfast in silence. I didn’t even notice if he joined me. If he tried to make conversation. My entire being was focused on my fucking rage. He’d asked the night before why I didn’t have any weird fucking cravings. Well apparently my fucking weird fucking craving was HIM. Fuck.