#Lazy Man Barbecue Grills

[grillpartshub-blog]

Lazy Man Barbecue- Built in Grill- Natural Gas Model SHOP NOW!!

[yuwuta]

the best stereotype to assign to toji is that he is the dude who is defensive about and honestly a little nerdy when it comes to grilling. he will guard that grill and he will deliver perfectly cooked hamburgers and steaks no you cannot help him and he knows he shouldn’t call it a “man’s job” but it’s his job and your job is to sit in the little beach chair he pulls out for you when it starts to get warm and sip your drink and keep him company and tell him what you think of the new spice rub he tried out and sure if you wanna kiss him on the cheek that's fine too he won’t object 

[charliemwrites]

A reader x Simon commission piece I just recently finished for my sweet bean N.W. I had a lot of fun writing a little scenario I never would have thought up on my own!

(Reader is described with FAB anatomy, but no gendered pronouns are used. No sensitive content warnings, just spice.)

It’s a perfect day.

The sun is a bright golden marble in a perfect jewel sky, toasting the sand into a powdery bed. There are only wisps of flossy cloud to interrupt the light, a feathery salt-soaked breeze to soften the edge of heat. The water is nothing but lazy ripples, foamy waves crawling up the coastline before slithering back.

And your coworker is soaking wet.

When you first signed on as a lifeguard, you didn’t expect more than some extra pocket money. A little financial cushion while you finished working through your master’s program. A chance to get some sunshine instead of holing up in your room. Maybe the occasional bit of eye candy while you fished children out of the shallows and fussed at families for littering around the barbecue grills.

You didn’t expect Simon “Walking Wet Dream” Riley. (Okay, that’s not his actual nickname – apparently it’s “Ghost.” Because of course it is.) You didn’t expect his big, fuck-off muscles, or his perfect sun-bleached hair, or the dark ink of his tattoos, or…

Well.

You got more than just eye candy when Mister Price hired you. Simon is a whole damn feast. Especially when he’s fresh from a cool-down swim, red trunks weighed down by water and tides, revealing the tantalizing curves of his hips. Droplets skittering over the bulges and divots of his body, sparkling in the sun…

“Excuse me?”

You try not to jolt, head jerking to the guy that hopefully hasn’t been standing there too long. He looks about your age, maybe a bit older. Wavy, chin-length brown hair and eyes nearly as blue as the water. Pretty, in a young Instagram prince kind of way. Maybe your type in another time – the time Before Simon.

“Hi,” you say quickly, “did you need something?”

“Do you have any plasters?” he asks. “My little brother scraped his knee.”

You glance at the kid shuffling just behind him, his knees dirtied and one red with a bit of blood. Nothing serious, you determine, but could use some first aid.

“Oh, poor thing!” you say. “C’mon, we have some bandages in the shack.”

You wave to get Simon’s attention, make the quick hand-sign indicating you’ll be gone for a moment. He notices you, the two boys, then nods and makes his way back to his usual lookout spot.

The shack is a quiet, cool oasis away from the heat. You’ve dozed off next to the mist fan more times than you care to admit, only to be woken by Simon pressing a cold water bottle to your cheek. It used to annoy you, but now you appreciate the reminder to hydrate.

There’s a robust first aid kit in one of the cabinets, though you groan a bit when you see how high Simon’s stashed it this time. Damned tall man; you could swear he does it on purpose. You try to reach it on your toes, but when that doesn’t work, you jump a bit. Still no luck. You’re going to have to get the stepstool at this rate.

“Here, I’ve got it.”

You jump a bit as Insta-Prince comes up behind you, sliding in close before you can scoot out of the way. He stretches his arm over your head, tugging the kit down from the shelf. When you glance up – concerned about something falling on you – you find him smirking down at you.

“Thanks,” you say trying not to snatch it out of his hands.

“Seems like an… inconvenient place to put that,” he muses.

You sit the younger brother on a plastic chair near the door and kneel, kit open on the floor. “We usually keep it lower… I think Simon forgets I’m shorter than him.”

The kid winces a bit at the sting of wound wash but puts on a brave face when you smile at him.

“Seems pretty rude. Is he hard to work with?” Insta-Prince asks.

You hesitate, trying to think of how to respond. Simon was intimidating, at first. Dark eyes and stoic expression, he was difficult to read. Always within a stone’s throw, you used to feel like he was hovering. Like he didn’t think you could do your job right.

Over the months, though, that insecurity has bridged into a tentative friendship. Even if he’s not talkative himself, he lets you chat to your heart’s content. Keeps you hydrated, reminds you to eat snacks and apply sunscreen. Even handles the rowdier beachgoers when they break rules, his bigger stature and sharp glare enough to cow even the most entitled people.

“No, he’s—”

“What’s the hold up?”

You glance up at Simon’s broad form angled in the shack’s doorway. His eyes aren’t on you or the kid, though. They’re on Insta-Prince – standing a little close to you, now that you’re not focused on the younger brother.

“Just finishing up,” you answer, smoothing a waterproof bandage over the scrape. “You did great, buddy, high five!”

That earns you a little smile and the requested high-five as the kid hops out of the chair. When you stand, Simon’s eyes flick to you. Darker than deep water, something swimming within that you can discern from the surface. It makes you fidgety, like you’ve been caught out doing something you shouldn’t.

“Remember to log it,” he rumbles.

“On it!” You lean over the wooden counter to pluck the clipboard from the wall on the other side, relieved that someone put the pen back for once.

“So, you have to write down all the injuries people get?” Insta-Prince asks, trying for casual conversation. The air feels oddly stifling, and gets worse when he settles closer, peeking around to see the sheet.

“Just if we use medical supplies,” you answer, scribbling quickly.

“Lifeguards only in the shack, kid,” Simon interrupts. “Get moving.”

You try not to snort in amusement. While Simon might tolerate you, he’s got a general disdain for most beachgoers – ironic considering how adamant he is about safety. But he seems to find the average person a nuisance to be constantly monitored and herded away from trouble. Like a shepherd with a flock of particularly stupid sheep.

“My brother was hurt, man, give me a break,” Insta-Prince protests, annoyed.

“And now he’s not,” Simon replies. “You should catch up with him. Kids need to be watched, isn’t that right, sunshine?”

You hum absently in agreement, signing off on the injury log with your initials. There’s a beat of silence that itches at the back of your mind. When you look up, Simon’s arching an eyebrow at the guy, thick arms crossed across his barrel chest.

Sir, firearms are not allowed on the beach, you think, before wrenching your eyes from Simon’s biceps.

“Did you need anything else?” you ask Insta-Prince.

“Just what time you get off work,” he replies, giving you big, soft, hopeful eyes.

You blink, a bit shocked. Flirting happens rarely for you, except maybe platonically with Soap or Gaz. To be fair, you’re not exactly the female lifeguard idol that most people would fantasize about. Half the time you jog around in shorts and a rash-guard, more comfortable in unisex swimwear and keeping the worst of the sun off yourself. Helpful to avoid wardrobe malfunctions if a panicking swimmer grabs at you.

Besides, you’re not really looking to get hit on. Hard to keep an eye out for emergencies if someone’s chatting your ear off for a shag by the restrooms. (You didn’t think people really did that until Farah groaned about it at the bonfire when you first hired.) Still, now that it’s happening… you don’t hate it. This guy is objectively attractive, apparently cares about his younger sibling enough to get him first-aid, and is weathering Simon’s increasingly annoyed scowl.

You figure there’s no harm. Not like someone else is showing a similar interest.

“At sunset,” you answer. “So, uh…”

“6:30,” Simon offers.

You shoot him a grateful look as the kid begins scooting for the door, skirting around Simon’s wider, thicker frame. Christ, the difference is stark. You tug at the front of your rash-guard to relieve some of the sudden heat.

“Maybe I’ll see you then,” he says before disappearing around the corner.

You stare after him for a second. He didn’t even ask for your name. “Huh.”

“The hell was that, sunshine?” Simon grouses.

You turn to him and shrug. “No idea.”

“Really now?” he scoffs.

You shake your head, already agitated by the whole thing for no reason you can pinpoint. Lean over the counter again to hang up the clipboard. “Really.”

“This isn’t a place for your silly summer fantasies and little meet-cutes,” he growls. “This is a real job, with real lives on the line.”

You twist around, brows furrowed as your mouth drops open in offense. “I know that.”

“Do you? Then why the fuck were you in here flirting?”

“I was helping the kid,” you argue, “you saw him!”

“Real convenient, that. When the older one’s been eye-fucking you all damn day.”

Any snappy retorts drown in the shock of his crass language and the accusation. All day? That guy? And Simon noticed? Never mind all that – Simon would seriously think you’d use a kid’s injury as an excuse to… what? Get cozy with an attractive stranger while on duty?

“I don’t know what you’re on about,” you huff, “but I need to get back out there.”

As you pass, a big, rough hand snaps out and catches your elbow. You come up short, half-turning towards him, face hot. Equal parts angry and ashamed for some reason. Summer romance your ass.

“Get it together,” he orders.

You click your tongue at him. “Same to you.”

You wrench your arm back and storm out onto the sand, snatching your floatie from the shack railing along the way. Don’t know what jellyfish stung his ass, but you hope he figures it out. Don’t think your self-esteem can take another round of… whatever that was.

The rest of the day passes tense and slow. Without Simon to talk to, and the beach relatively peaceful, you’re left to fixate on the incident in the shack. What was that about? You thought for sure you’d grown on Simon a bit. Sure, you’re one of the younger lifeguards, which is why Price assigned you to Simon’s post, but you’ve worked hard. You thought you’d proven yourself.

Checking your watch, you find that it’s nearly 6:30. The sun doesn’t seem that low yet, but the beach got empty while you were idly keeping watch. Might as well pack it in, you figure.

Not even thinking of Insta-Prince when you hop up the little wooden steps to the shack. Simon isn’t back from wherever he’s monitoring yet, and you’d like to be clear before that changes. Just in case he’s still in a bad mood.

You shed your blue swim-shorts and rash-guard on the counter, leaving you in the more standard one-piece. Roll your shoulders a bit uncomfortably, itching to squeeze into your binder after a day with tits-out. You’ve gotten accustomed to the sensation of leaving it off for the job, but you’d still prefer to wear it when safe.

You flop onto the counter, reaching over the side to fish your bag out from its cubby. Of course, that’s the exact moment that you hear Simon’s heavy step on that creaky board by the doorway.

“Bloody hell,” you think you hear him mutter.

“I’m just about to head out,” you assure him.

“Meeting up with that knob?”

Your temper flares. You abandon your bag and land on your feet, spinning around. Come up (very) short when Simon’s right there, not enough room to breathe without your chests brushing. But you don’t allow yourself to be deterred.

“So, what if I am?” you challenge.

His eyes darken, then narrow. “This isn’t a game you want to play, sunshine.”

“Maybe I do,” you insist, planting your hands on your hips.

He exhales slow and heavy, boxes you in against the counter with hands on either side of you. Your stupid, traitorous heart skips a beat, then trips into double time. Normally he wears a rash-guard too, but not today. No, today it’s swathes of tanned, scarred skin. And it’s so, so close to yours.

“You won’t win,” he warns.

Your tongue feels heavy and clumsy, maybe because your thoughts feel the same way. Now, you’re not always the most aware of “signals,” but there aren’t many other ways to interpret someone near-pinning you to a counter with smoldering eyes.

You scramble to review the earlier confrontation through a new lens. The way Simon glared at Insta-Prince, not you – until you seemed open to his interest. Oh. Ohhhh.

You wet your lips; the way his eyes lock onto the movement bolsters your courage.

“What if… I don’t want to win?” you ask.

His eyes dart up to yours, something a little sharper than longing when he whispers, “I’d make you a sore loser.”

An unexpected laugh bursts out of you; his teeth flash in a crooked smile as he scoops you up so easily. He sits you on edge of the counter and steps between your thighs, pelvis bumping against yours. You gasp, head dropping to stare wide-eyed at the frankly monstrous bulge in his trunks.

“W-wow,” you mumble faintly, thighs squeezing around his hips.

“C’mere, sunshine,” he growls, cupping your jaw.

You tilt your face up, sigh softly as his mouth slots over yours. He tastes like blue powerade and sea salt, tongue curling against yours when you grant him enthusiastic access.

Your hands make scattered, eager work of exploring him, unsure where you want to touch first, just that you have to. He’s as solid as you always expected, densely packed muscle under healthy, hydrated layers of fat. Sun-warm beneath your palms, shudders as your skim them dangerously close low on his twitching abdomen.

“Can I take this off?” he asks, tugging gently at the shoulder strap of your swimsuit.

“Yeah,” you mumble, wriggling closer.

He huffs in amusement, peeling the elastic material over your arms and down your chest while you scatter kisses over his jaw and neck. You gasp into his peck when his calloused thumbs brush your hard nipples. Just a small touch, yet electricity is racing up and down your spine.

“This alright?” he checks.

You hum the affirmative, pressing into his touch as he pinches and rolls the sensitive peaks, slow searching. Reclaims your mouth to swallow each and every little mewl and moan that spills off your tongue. You can’t help rocking against him, hot and hard through the thin layers of swimwear.

“Simon,” you whine against his mouth, “c’mon.”

“Impatient,” he teases, nipping your bottom lip.

“You’ve kept me waiting long enough,” you complain, tugging at his trunks.

“I know, sunshine,” he coos, “just wait a bit longer.”

He takes the tiniest step back, fingers hooking in your swimsuit again to roll it the rest of the way off. You lift your hips to help, nearly squirming as strings of slick web between the fabric and your pussy. But Simon seems hypnotized, snapping the strands with his fingers and following them back to your swollen cunt.

“Fuck, all this for me, baby?” he rasps.

You make an embarrassed noise – which quickly graduates into an alarmed squeal when he drops to his knees.

“Simon, wait, I’ve been working all day and—”

“Don’ give a fuck,” he growls, “I’ve been dying to taste you for weeks.”

He yanks your thighs over his big, strong shoulders and dives in. It’s messy and obscenely loud, filling up the tiny shack and all the empty space in your head. Would be embarrassing if you had any room for something so frivolous. Instead, you’re gone on the way he sucks your clit and laps thirstily at your entrance. Utterly obsessed with the deep, throaty groans that leave you throbbing.

It's been a while, true, but you know he’d have you on edge so fast regardless. And he does, rushing up on it like a building, rolling wave. The devastating kind that’ll drown you in unyielding currents.

“Wait, wait,” you squeak, tugging at his coarse hair.

To his credit, he stops instantly, though he sounds absolutely gutted about it. Pulls back licking his lips like a cat with cream, chin practically dripping.

“Alright?” he asks, voice shredded to ribbons.

“I just,” you pant, “I just w-wasn’t ready to – to… I wanna cum on your cock. Please, Si?”

“Fuckin’ hell.” He surges up, pressing you down flat to kiss you stupid(er) and senseless. The taste of you isn’t as offensive as you expected, not coming from his tongue. “You’ll get anything you want if you keep talking like that.”

“Just want you.”

He helps you off the counter, drags you by the wrist to the plastic chair by the doorway. You’re about to protest – no way can that chair support someone his size, never mind both of you. But then he’s spinning you around, crushing you to his chest, and yanking you down into his lap. Any such nonsense as good sense dissolves like a sandcastle.

You can feel the length of him pressing hot and a little wet against your spine. (So, so high up your spine, good god). When he freed himself from his swim-trunks, you’re not sure, nor do you care at this moment. Your priorities narrow down to one absolute necessity: getting him inside you now, now, now.

“Easy now, baby, don’t hurt yourself,” he purrs in your ear. “Let me help.”

He curls big hands around your hips, tight enough that you relish the bruises that may bloom there later. Supports your weight as if it’s nothing to him, propping you over his lap as you line up his cock, dragging the flushed head through your pooling wetness. He curses low and rough, sinking you down until the tip catches on your entrance.

“There we are,” he grits, hands flexing in your soft flesh. “Nice and slow now, sunshine.”

If you had your way, he’d already be balls deep in your aching pussy. But his grip is firm and unrelenting, lowering you inch by thick inch down his shaft. You back and squeeze around him, encouraging him deeper, faster, helpless little noises escaping from your gaping mouth.

“That’s it, halfway there,” he breathes. “Doing so well.”

You choke. Halfway?! You already feel stuffed, walls gripping every contour of his cock like you were made for him.

He twitches inside you, bulbous, leaking head grinding deliciously, and your resolve cracks right down the middle. You dig your nails into his thighs and slam your hips down, crying out as he buries deep inside. Can feel him nudging your cervix, stretching your silky walls, all the way down to where your opening is sealed tight around the base of him.

“Fuck,” he snarls.

“F-feels so good,” you whimper, head falling forward as you clench around him.

Oh, you are definitely going to be so perfectly sore after this. You can’t fucking wait.

“If you’re that impatient to be ruined,” he chuckles breathlessly, “best brace yourself, lovie.”

You barely manage to get your feet planted before he’s fucking up into you, hard and mean. Just what you want, what you need. Your head falls back to cry your pleasure to the shack roof as you bounce. Rocking your hips each time he bottoms out, grinding him against that spongy bundle of nerves inside you. It’s mind-numbing; you’re leaking around him, know it must be dripping onto the floor at this point.

He snakes a hand around to your front. Brushes where the two of you are connected, the strange and dangerous sensation making tears prick at your eyes. Then his fingers skip up to your needy, oversensitive clit. You almost want to stop him, already so overwhelmed with pleasure. But again, anything like coherent thought is ripped away on a tide of ecstasy when he begins rubbing quick, tight circles.

Your rhythm faulters at the new stimulation, but Simon just widens his stance. It changes the angle, drags the head so perfectly against your g-spot. With the hand still on your hip, he starts jerking you down to meet each thrust. It’s slightly slower, but so much sweeter, combined with the rhythm he’s strumming on your clit.

Your orgasm rises like a tsunami, higher and higher, a devastating force building up inside.

“Simon,” you keen, “Simon, I’m gonna – right there…”

“That’s it, sunshine. Get me nice and wet with your cum.”

That voice, saying such filth in your ear, sends you over the edge. You nearly convulse, eyes rolling back in your head as you scream. Back arching, writhing and gripping crescents into his thighs. And you can feel yourself gushing all over him, onto the floor.

“Yes, yes, fuck, just like that.”

You’re near limp as he keeps hammering into you, practically using you like a toy to get himself off. The thought alone makes you squeeze around him again, a powerful aftershock bringing another flood of wetness. Your head lolls back against his shoulder, crying into his ear, begging him to cum inside you, fill you up…

He crashes his mouth into yours as he cums, groaning into your lax mouth, jerking violently into your overstimulated pussy. You swear you can feel him spurting inside you, thick and white-hot. It feels… it feels…

You break the kiss to suck in a deep breath, lightheaded and still squeaky with pleasure. Simon trails soothing kisses over your shoulder, grip easing up to caress over the forming finger marks. You hum softly, voice husky. Flutter your eyes open and blink at the pink sky out the window.

“Is it… is it just now sunset?” you ask.

Simon chuckles against your ear. “Looks like I was about thirty minutes off. Whoops.”

[ashknife]

Low-Key Haikus 6: Bringing the Heat

Haiku silliness after the break. There are haikus hidden in the haikus. A couple of creative liberties were taken for syllable count and phrasing (e.g. yes, I know the phrase in a hidden haiku is supposed to be "Whoa, Nellie!").

Immolation now The sun burns out all of life Typical August

Time for a long dip Swimming in the afternoon Pool of cool water

Searing heat burns all The rocks boil and trees wilt Hurray for A/C

Air conditioning Blessed extraction of heat Boo: power outage

Melting ice cream cone Dripping all over the place A sticky delight

Icebergs melting down High temperatures persist Where is the winter?

Lubrication on Sunscreen deflects the UV Sunburn protection

Dries, the sun, it does Boils the swamp to nothing Heatstroke for Yoda

Smoke means fire, they say Hot weather means drier fuel Bear says, “Only you.”

Until fall, no reprieve Shovel snow cone to beat heat Glorious brain freeze

Mealtime has arrived Fruits, yogurt, and sandwiches Fare for the hot days

Meat: grilled perfection Juicy flesh encased in crust Texas barbecue

Enflamed surroundings Puffy dark clouds rolling in Blessed thunderstorm

Right to the river Fishing, splashing, marshmallows Tent under the stars

Oh, thunderous blast! Colors sparkle in the night Fireworks explode bright

Nellie nips at feet Chasing kids into water Doggo beats the heat

Lips meet lemonade Cool, sweet, and tart: perfection The simple pleasures

Yearning for better Oppressive heat reminds us Of His still waters

To hell and then back Grocery run for dessert Popsicles melted

Eat outside with friends Laughter and games, food and drink Work days forgotten

Never hike alone Carry plenty of water Heatstroke is deadly

Thinking of degrees The warmth of the Father’s love, Or the lake of fire?

Hard, cold ice in cups Filled with bubbly soda pop Sweet, sweet refreshment

Outside burns all life Armageddon comes for all O summer afternoon

Usually we hide To avoid the heated air Inside with cool fans

Swimming at the pool Diving and cannonballs, ho! The children giggle

Also dreading school Summer days are flying by Time flies on fun

Needing vacation The waves of the beach call forth Road trip is inbound

Drinks cool heated soul Restores dehydrated flesh Wonderful fluids

Draining streams flood curb Thunder, lightning, and raindrops Fresh scent of cool air

Energy for fan Stuffy air now in full breeze Electric goodness

Grief in afternoon Hot sun beats on laborers Sweat and tears to live

Reaching for the stars Crickets chirping in concert Lazy summer night

Extremities burn Unrelenting sun cooks all Soothing aloe heals

Executing: dive Modulation: forward flip Error: belly flop

Shade shields the sun’s rays Hottest days made bearable Rest stop for walkers

Maybe the heat sucks Summer still holds its treasures Certain points of view

Use caution with fire Roasted marshmallows are good Burnt fingers, not so

Sunscreen: good for skin No sunscreen: may cause cancer Like everything else

Tanning on the beach Waves are crashing; lulled to sleep Now, extra crispy

Has the brisket smoked? Bring the sides, set the table Tasty meal for all

Applications in Summer jobs for college kids Funds for having fun

Very hot today is Refreshing swamp cooler is Drink green Muppet needs

Effective cool breeze Opened windows admit air Chaotic chimes ring

Another scorcher Concrete jungle burns hotter Windows up, air on

Scorcher coming up Triple digits, stay inside Excuse for ice cream

Nighttime thunderstorms Flashes of light, deep rumbles Refreshing raindrops

Only six months away Jolly fat man and reindeer If it would just snow

Will umbrella help? Drink tasty with or without Pina colada

Cool desserts are great Whether the world burns right now Or during winter

Off sprayed on the arms Blood-sucking insects begone Buffet I am not

Not long is the night Brief respite from the sun’s rays Starry sky wonder

Enjoyable vacay Lots to do and things to see Never long enough

[maysbanks]

dancing in the dark.

it’s been a hot minute and some of y’all will be surprised that this came from me as i’m very anti rafe but i’ve been in a drew mood for the past couple of weeks and this kinda came from that so enjoy lmao. also i’ll come back and put the read more on tomorrow sorry i’m lazy and wrote this on my phone lol (just imagine this an au kinda thing ok)

this includes rafe being sex on legs, oral sex (female receiving), swearing, mention of alcohol and drug use etc

you’re forced to go to midsummer’s by your friends and the night ends up unexpectedly with rafe cameron three fingers deep in you

“Do you think I should wear a bra with this?” You looked over to Kiara who was stood in front of her wide mirror littered with Polaroids of you and the gang, summer yellow dress held up to her half naked body as she assessed her appearance. Your eyes rolled, a heavy sigh emitting from your lips.

“I don’t know Kie, how about you not wear the dress at all and ditch the Kook fest and stay in with me?” You tried, (about your thousandth attempt at getting her to see sense and not force you to go to Midsummer’s with her), but all you got in return was another eye roll and laugh from your curly haired friend, who turned and sent you one of her signature ‘I’m very much done with your shit’ looks.

“We’re going,” she stressed, and you whined, throwing your body back atop her bed and holding a pillow over your face in silent protest. “Stop being such a baby and get over yourself. We’re all going, it’s not like I’m just feeding you to the lions.”

She had a point, but you refused to admit it. You’d be in a mood all night if it meant you were to attend Midsummer’s, which Kie was forcing all of you to go to. She was the only Kook in your group of friends, which meant she was the only one that attended the party every year, but this year John B was also invited along due to Sarah Cameron being his girlfriend (he’d protested just as much as you when he first found out), and Pope would be there anyway because him and his dad would be working there for the night with their barbecue, and so Kie had the bright idea to invite the remaining two of you along; you and JJ.

If you were throwing a hissy fit, then JJ would be ten times worse. You could just imagine him stomping his booted feet as he refused to put on the suit that John B forced him to rent, and you wouldn’t be surprised if he’d somehow managed to crawl out of a window and escape the desperate clutches of his best friend. The thought almost made you laugh out loud, but then you remembered you were in a mood and clamped your lips shut beneath the silky purple pillow you still held captive over your head.

“Please don’t make me go,” you pleaded. You grunted when a sudden weight landed on your abdomen, the pillow you were clutching wrenched from your hands and thrown across the room, your eyes landing on Kiara’s who frowned down at you from her position straddling your waist. (If anyone were to walk in then and there and see you both half naked on her bed you were sure you’d give them a heart attack.) “Please, Kie. I’m begging you.”

Kie sighed. “It’s one night, you can manage for one night ‘kay. I’ve been doing this practically my whole life and I’ve survived, so can you.” You groaned at her matter of fact tone, huffing when she shifted her weight and gripped your cheeks in her hands, effectively cutting off any whining you were about to do and squishing your face between her hands. “Now, shut up moaning, get off my bed, and get dressed. You look so hot, and you’re going to look even hotter in that dress.” Her face suddenly changed, the stern glare morphing into a cheeky grin. “Who knows, maybe your night will end up with you on your knees.”

“Ugh, Kie!” You groaned, shoving her off of you and trying your best to ignore her cackle that had your lips quirking upward. Sending her a quick glare, you eyed the dress she chose for you that was hanging on her wardrobe door. “Fine, I‘ll go. But I’ll be complaining the whole time.”

• • •

Turned out Kiara was right, you did look hot in your dress. It wasn’t often that you did dress up, being a Pogue in the Outer Banks there was never really any reason to, and it’s not like you could afford it anyway. You really didn’t want to know how much the dress you were wearing cost, the expensive feeling fabric enough to make you cringe. It was pretty, the emerald green a stark contrast to Kie’s light yellow, the smooth silk cooling you down in the humid summer evening. It was a deep plunge, the sides of your boobs mildly exposed enough to have people turning their heads or dipping their eyes down to catch a glance. The skirt fell mid length just a bit under your knees, but your legs were exposed nicely due to the slits on both sides that began at your mid thigh. With a pair of heels that you also borrowed from Kie’s wardrobe, you had to admit you looked the part and some more for an evening at Midsummer’s.

“Holy shit,” Pope breathed when he saw you, standing alone at the grill he would be tending to for most of the night. “You’re wearing a dress.”

“Nice observation skills, Caption Obvious,” you sassed, still in a bitter mood over your attendance at the event but feeling a little better with a beer in your hands. Your lips curled in mild disgust as you glanced around you, everywhere you looked a rich and stuck up Kook would be stood there, nursing their expensive cocktails and whiskey with the finest suits and dresses on as they made idle chat about where they’d be vacationing to and what newest model of car they’d just gotten. “I can’t believe I’m here. Midsummer’s sucks.”

Pope nodded in agreement to your statement, looking away from you briefly to flip over a burger sizzling on the grill. “Least you haven’t got it as bad as John B, Sarah’s been at him all day, making sure that he turns up. Poor guy has no idea what’s coming for him, spending the night talking to Ward and all his rich buddies.”

Just as Pope mentioned the man’s name, said man and his family appeared at the door of the country club, making their grand entrance as usual, all eyes turning to gawk as the Cameron family stride in, Ward and Rose in front (you tried not to stare too hard at the concoction atop the blonde woman’s head, it would hurt your eyes), Wheezie just behind them, grinning at the attention she was receiving, Sarah a little behind her, dragging along an embarrassed looking John B on her arm (you and Pope shared a look and snorted simultaneously).

Your eyes, however, upon returning on the Cameron clan, suddenly couldn’t look away from the person right at the back of the group, dragging his feet with a small frown on his pink lips and hands in his pockets as he ignored all extended hands held out for him to shake and instead assessed the crowd stood beneath him, as if looking for someone. You took the time to glance him over, appreciating the way his body looked in a light grey suit, black dress shirt beneath complimenting the outfit perfectly. You’d noticed his hair a bit ago, the times you’d crossed paths or seen him around town you couldn’t help but notice it - he’d stopped gelling it and wore the dark blonde strands freely, letting it flop on his forehead in a way you thought attractive. From the last time you’d seen him he’d obviously gotten in a fight (not surprising for his character), as he was sporting a bruised cheek on his right side. All in all, he looked fucking good. And you hated to admit it, because he was Rafe Cameron. And you were meant to hate Rafe Cameron.

When his light blue eyes landed on you though, all thoughts of that kind left your mind and all that was left was the ones that had you mentally undressing him. As if knowing your exact thoughts, his lips curled into a smirk as he stared you down, neither of you breaking the contact. That lasted a whole 56 seconds (were you counting?) before the trance was broken for you, and you were knocked on the shoulder by an aggressively big hand that belonged to JJ Maybank.

“I can’t fucking believe I’m here right now,” he whined in a high pitched voice, Kie on his other side rolling her eyes, Pope chuckling amusedly at his friend. You ignored them all, turning your head back desperately hoping that Rafe hadn’t moved in the few seconds you looked away, your heart hammering wildly in your chest when he realised no, he had not, and was still staring at you from across the lawn, this time his eyes swooping down your figure and taking you all in, a hand rested at his jaw and fingers dangerously close to his lips as he did. When he was finished, he caught your eyes again, this time sending you a wink and a smile when all you could do was stare back with parted lips. “Hellooo, is anyone in there?”

You turned briefly to JJ who along with Pope and Kiara was staring at you and sending you confused looks, and you swallowed as you questioned them, handing JJ the drink in your hands he requested and denying the offer of weed. The three sent you crazed glares when you refused, after all weren’t you the one that downright refused to attend and made a big deal out of it and specifically said ‘that somebody had better smuggle in some good booze and weed to get me through the night’. But all that had left your mind the minute your eyes landed on Rafe Cameron, and you had other ideas on how to get through the night - hopefully ending up with you sat on his dick.

When you looked back at where Rafe was stood, however, you were disheartened to see that he’d moved, and when you looked around the lawn to try and spot him you saw him stood in the midst of a conversation with Topper and Kelce, his mouth moving and his words directed at them, but his eyes still on you.

Your lips pulled into a small smirk as you decided waiting a while wouldn’t hurt, if it meant the night would end up how you wanted it to, which you were positive it would as Rafe licked his lips, slowly and purposely, his eyes dancing along your figure. You just hoped it would be soon, because you weren’t sure how long you could last without feeling his hands on you.

• • •

“Fuck, these heels are so uncomfortable,” you muttered, stood off to the side with the gang as you sneakily passed vodka disguised in a water bottle between the five of you, John B having escaped the clutches of Ward Cameron and his rich buddies to join you all in complaining and making fun of the festivities that Midsummer included.

“Take em off,” John B suggested with a careless shrug, yours and Kiara’s shared scoff at the possibility of it making him frown.

JJ grinned lazily, “Nah, nah, what she needs to take off is that dress,” he gestured to you, finger pointing accusingly at your semi exposed chest. “I mean, is there even any point in wearing anything? You might as well, y’know, liven up this party while you’re at it.”

“In your dreams, Maybank,” you rolled your eyes, taking a swig of the bitter alcohol when Pope passed it to you, ignoring JJ’s return of ‘oh trust me, it will be’. “I have other plans on how to liven up this party anyways, for me, at least.”

Kie’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?” She voiced the gang’s thoughts, waving a hand in dismissal as the alcohol was offered to her, holding a hand on her stomach to show that she’d had enough and felt sick. You just grinned cheekily, taking a hit of the vodka next when Pope also refused.

As if he knew exactly what you were just talking about, a voice suddenly sounded from somewhere behind you, the distinct attractiveness of it causing your head to turn and your eyes to meet Rafe’s as he stood a bit away from you and the gang, hands once again in his pockets of his slacks as he seemingly ignored the rest of your friends, eyes only on you. A smile made its way onto your face without you even realising, and it was as if John B had been shot right in the stomach when he came to the realisation, a loud groan of protest leaving his mouth.

“C’mon, you can’t be serious,” he practically pleaded, the remaining three of your friends still clueless and confused as to what was going on as they chorused their questions. You ignored them all, shoving the near empty bottle into John B’s hands and sending the guys a wide smirk and wink before you turned on your heels and made your way towards where Rafe was seemingly waiting, a smug smirk on his own pretty pink lips. “Oh my god, she is! She actually is!”

You were too far away by the time you made it to Rafe to hear exactly what your friends were saying, but you were close enough to hear their collected groans of disgust and exclaims of protest when John B had finally explained what was happening. You payed no mind, even when JJ shouted after you in warning, your feet landing you right in front of Rafe. The dirty blonde swiped his tongue over his teeth as he took you in so up close, his eyes glistening under the shine of the fairy lights hung up all over. He stared at you for what felt like an eternity before he glanced over your shoulder, taking note of your foul faced friends.

“Seems like they don’t want you to come with me,” he spoke in a low voice, the rumble of it so close to you and the suggestion of his words sending shivers down your body and right to your core.

You shrugged simply. “I don’t really give a fuck.” You informed him promptly, your words making a grin form on his face.

“Then let’s go, baby.” You wasted no time in taking his outstretched hand, letting him lead you away from the crowd and out towards the back. You had to put your full trust in him then, you had no idea as to anything about the country club, had no possible clue as to where he was taking you, but you found no issue in trusting him, the need for him to fuck you senseless the only thing staying in your mind.

It was when you landed in a hallway upon entering the building from a back door when he let go of your hand and instead raised them to your face, pulling you close to his body and your head near his as he pressed his lips against yours with a certain kind of desperation you’d never felt before. You gasped into his mouth at the intensity of it, hands moving to grip his hair between your fingers as he backed you up and pressed you flush against a wall, his knee resting between your legs.

When he pressed it slightly against you, you couldn’t do anything else but moan into his hot kiss, heavy rasps of breath escaping your chest. Rafe pulled back slightly, cheeks flushed and lips cherry red, his pupils dilated and staring you down. He did the same action, watching you this time, and when you moaned just a little bit louder and threw your head back to bang against the wall, your hands gripping his shoulders tightly, Rafe let out a low groan. “You’re so fucking hot,” he mumbled as he pressed up against you once more, hands at your hips and bundling your dress between his large digits, causing the fabric to ride up your legs just a little. “Dressed up all nice, your tits fucking perfect and practically pooling out, you like the attention on you don’t you, baby?”

You never thought you did until now, but you weren’t about to tell him that, simply nodding your head at his words in an attempt to make him kiss you again with those beautifully sinful lips. Rafe did no such thing though, instead looking to you with those pretty blue eyes as he gripped the dress tighter in his palms, the fabric moving higher, exposing more and more, his thigh pressing to you again. You let out a whine at the feel of it, lips parting in pleasure at his actions. “Let me hear you say it, baby. Say you like the attention.”

“I like it,” you gasped out, desperate for him to do something, anything, even in this dimly lit hallway where anyone could catch the both of you. “I like it so fucking much, Rafe. I like the feel of eyes on me, especially yours.”

Rafe moaned low in his throat, one hand moving to grip your jaw as he kissed you, lips moving open with yours and slipping his tongue in your mouth, the grip he had tightening ever so slightly the more time that went by. You had no idea when he'd picked you up, forcing your legs around his waist and pressing you further into the wall, his lips leaving yours to leave hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck, chest and shoulders. You almost lost it completely when he trailed further down, following the plunge of your dress and kissing the space between your tits, sucking ever so gently. “Fuck, Rafe,” you moaned when his body seemed to go down with his head, ending up with you practically sitting on his squatted knees as he gripped your sides with his large palms, holding your body to him tightly as he continued his trail of warm and wet kisses on your exposed skin.

Rafe allowed his tongue to lick a stripe of your exposed tit on your left side, the whine that emitted from your lips at his sinful action echoing in the hallway. Rafe pulled his head back from you, eyes blown wide as he looked to you. “Fucking Christ, do you wanna get caught baby?”

At the half-assed shake of your head, too desperate to feel his mouth back on you, his hands trailed down your body and instead clutched your ass, holding you possessively to him as he straightened his knees and stood straight, a gasp emitting from your lips when he did so and caused friction right to your pussy at the movement. Rafe seemed to realise what he did at the same time you did, and the moan that left his own mouth was one you never wanted to forget. “Fuck, let’s get you out of here.”

The best place available in the country club turned out to be the family bathroom. You had no time to dwell on how big the space was, almost as big as your entire living room in your house, before you were set down on the marble counter and pulled back to Rafe’s mouth once more. You wasted no time in returning his hot kiss, your hands at the back of his neck as his slid under the slits of your dress and clutched your thighs for a few seconds before trailing higher and landing one hand over your thin panties, cupping your pussy.

“Fuck me,” you moaned loudly. Rafe grinned against your lips, pearly white teeth clashing with your own.

“That’s the plan, sweetheart,” he mumbled against you and you panted as he started to move down your body, peppering kisses along your body on his way, before he landed between your legs, his palms on your knees as he kneeled on his own. “Open your legs,” he demanded and you did as asked with no hesitation, causing him to chuckle darkly. “Needy aren’t we, baby?”

Of fucking course you were, you wanted to say. You’d been waiting for this all night, you wished to speak. But you bit your tongue, not wanting to delay any action any further. When you didn’t answer, however, Rafe tugged on the back of your knees slightly, causing your ass to slip from the counter a little bit, your pussy more exposed and closer to his face as he awaited your response. “Yes, Rafe! I’m fucking needy.”

“Good girl,” he cooed, and you whined lightly when he blew on your core, goosebumps forming on your skin. Rafe bundled your dress in his warm palms, moving it so it was above your hips and you were fully on show to him, your white lace panties completely soaked through. Rafe groaned at the sight, looking at your pussy like it was water and he hadn’t had a drink in days. “So fucking wet,” he muttered, more to himself than you, and you weren’t sure if he wanted an answer to that but he didn’t wait for one anyway, pulling your panties down your legs and throwing them carelessly behind him. “I’ve been waiting for your pretty pussy all night.”

“Oh god,” you moaned when his fingers trailed along you, large digits on either side of your clit as he pressed them together and grinned when you screamed at the friction. You watched as his dirty blonde head went between your thighs, and felt his hot mouth on you not a second later. He was so fucking good, you thought, you never wanted this to end even though it had only just started, not wanting to waste another minute of your life without Rafe Cameron between your thighs.

His tongue was leaving long trails, and he flattened it out against you making you shiver. One hand left your knee to grip the back of your calf as he slipped his tongue in your pussy, your head banging against the mirror behind you. His fingers followed after, his tongue leaving you only to be replaced by his long digits as you moaned helplessly from above him, one hand gripping the counter while the other tugged on his hair. When you pulled particularly hard on the strands, he would hum against you and it would send a whole new wave of pleasure throughout your body that you had to stop yourself from screaming too loudly every time.

You could distinctly hear the beat of the music coming from the party occurring outside, the beginning of Bruce Springsteen’s smooth voice hitting your ears as he sang along to Dancing In the Dark, before the sound was replaced by your own scream as Rafe entered a second finger into your pussy, his tongue sucking on your clit simultaneously.

Everything was too much and you weren’t sure how much more you could take, feeling the familiar build of light pressure in your belly as you managed to rasp out, “Rafe, I’m gonna cum,” into the room, and you weren’t even sure he heard you before he pulled his face away, his fingers moving at a perfect rhythm and pace still within you.

“Hold it, baby,” he was saying, blue eyes staring up into your own as you shook your head in a silent plea, begging to be able to let go. The hand that wasn’t fucking you reached up under your dress and found your tit, fondling it in his palm and lightly squeezing your nipple between the rough pads of his fingertips. “C’mon baby, just a second. You think you can take another finger?”

You were practically seeing stars already, your orgasm right there within reach, but you nodded despite yourself, wanting this wonderful feeling to never end. Rafe smiled as he moved his head in closer again, pressing a kiss to your clit as he mumbled, “That’s my girl,” into you before adding another finger as promised, three fingers deep in your cunt.

The feel of his fingers fucking you, his mouth upon you, the excitement of the night and thrill of the possibility of getting caught in the bathroom at the country club, mixed with the thud of the music and low groans from Rafe was evading every one of your thoughts and you couldn’t think clearly, you weren’t even sure what you were doing, but you knew that you were begging, praising, screaming into the thick air that the pair of you had created. Rafe’s head was still buried deep between your thighs, and the sight of him down there could have ended you in itself.

“Cum for me, baby,” the vibration of his voice on your cunt had you gasping, fingers knotting in his hair as your spine curled so much that your forehead was pressed against the cool glass of the mirror you were seated against, shoving your pussy further up into his mouth and effectively causing his fingers to curl beautifully inside you. “C’mon, sweetheart. Let go.”

It hit you like a train: your vision blurred, your chest heaved, your stomach clenched, and your legs and arms turned to jelly. Throughout it all Rafe still remained there, fingers buried in you and riding out your orgasm with you. His mouth detached from your pussy and he chose to watch you come undone by him instead, his cherry red lips parted in amazement as he watched you scream from above him. You gasped as you felt his fingers leave you, opening your eyes to watch him take the soaked digits into his mouth and suck them clean, a moan of approval leaving his mouth at the taste. You had no time to register him going back in, his mouth back on your pussy and licking you clean of your cum, a loud and needy whine falling past your lips at the sight.

When he pulled back, a satisfied smile upon his glistening lips, he wasted no time in leaning up and pressing back against you, one arm curling round your back and pulling you flush against him, the other in your hair as he kissed you, the taste of you on his tongue.

“I think you should come to Midsummer’s more often,” he mumbled, and you smiled against his lips, legs wrapping around his waist and heels pressing to his ass causing him to rub against your exposed core.

“If it’s gonna end up with me getting fucked by you in the bathroom every time, then I don’t see why I should complain.” You cheekily taunted, your own lips moving along his jaw.

Rafe growled low in his throat, his blue eyes catching his reflection in the mirror behind you, watching as you sucked on his neck. He grinned to himself, a hand palming your ass as he watched.

“How about I fuck you right now against this counter and make you watch, huh?”

(Fuck, maybe Midsummer’s wasn’t so bad as you originally thought after all.)

[innocent-chris-evans-slut]

Sunday BBQ

My Masterlist ✨

Requests are open.

Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2,5k

Type: smut

Summary: Lisa had hosted a barbecue at her house, her four children and some close family friends. It was a hot August day in Boston, and you were wearing your fav skirt and a simply white crop top, which highlighted your tan. Chris couldn’t take his eyes off of you and you noticed it. He was wearing a blue t-shirt, which tightened around his muscular biceps.

Warning(s): dirty talk, daddy kink, spanking, rough sex

A wave of heat had hit Boston that day. You couldn’t go to the beach -it was too hot-, neither could you stay in for the entire Sunday. Then your mother had called, saying that Lisa Evans had organized a barbecue at her place, and you took the chance almost immediately.

You wore the first thing you had caught in your wardrobe and got in your car, never living behind Toby -your dog. You jumped in your brother’s red Jeep and in less than fifteen minutes you were parking in front of Lisa Evans’ house.

It wasn’t the biggest house you’ve ever been in, but Mama Evans knew how to take care of her garden, in fact you loved how it was arranged and the beautiful and colorful flowers on the grass. Not by chance Lisa hosted almost every Sunday a big barbecue with family’s friends and her children’s families and friends. Since when you were a child, you’d always waited the Sundays only to go to the Evans’ and have fun.

“Mum and dad are already there”, Tom told you while you were getting out of his car. Together you crossed the road and reached the Evans’ front door, “Aideen and Cristal are coming”.

Toby barked as soon as the door was opened, and you watched him disappearing into the crowded living room. You panted and turned to greet Shanna, who had welcomed you in her mother’s house.

“The guys are in the backyard”, she informed your brother, who crossed the living room and made his way to the yard. Instead you followed Shanna in the kitchen, where you met your mother and Cristal, your younger sister. “So, how is it going at school? Do the children already love their new teacher?”

“It isn’t that simple”, you answered, thanking Lisa as she filled a glass of lemonade for you, “But…they trust me and laugh at my jokes. That’s my biggest achievement so far”, all the women in the room laughed at your statement, including your mother, who had heard that story a couple of times before. “It’s been a while since last Sunday at the Evans’.”

“I know, my dear. This summer I’m determined to re-establish the tradition”, Lisa caressed your back and sent you a reassuring smile, before being interrupted by her husband.

“Ladies, lunch is almost ready.”

You, as all the women in the room, headed out the kitchen and followed Mr. Evans in the backyard, where you brother and other men were grilling meat. You approached Scott, who had been waving you since you had stepped out of the house, “Hey, man!”

“Hey, stranger. I haven’t seen you in ages”, Scott, being a child, as always, teased you and poked your nose, “What’s going on?”

“I’ve been busy with kids at school. I’m officially a teacher!” you cheered and made a quick happy dance, just like when you were a child and happy danced basically for everything, “I’m so…uuh” you stopped talking when you felt something slimy on your ankle. You looked down and saw a tiny white dog licking you, “Hi, baby. Already tired of playing with other dogs?” you grabbed him in your hands and petted his head, just as he liked it.

“He’s a hairball and he’s lazy. Prove me that I’m wrong”, a strong, deep voice said, and you knew who was trying to make you angry, “Just like his owner”.

Chris Evans stood in front of you, one arm around his brother’s shoulder and a cold beer in the other hand. “Hi”, he stuck out his tongue at you and it reminded you how much a child he was.

“What are you doing here?” you asked in a harsh tone, succeeding in not let your excitement to show up, “No movie? No Hollywood Star appointment?” You let Toby rush to his food as you saw Shanna reaching out for him

“Nope, unfortunately for you”, his attention was completely on you, once that Scott had excused himself and ran away from the two of you, “Free for my family and friends”, he took one last drink from his beer and threw the bottle in its proper can, “And you, of course”.

“Good luck with that. Last time didn’t go so well”, having said that, you left him alone, with his thoughts, and made your way back to where your mother and brothers were. “Is that anything left for me?” you took a plate and filled it up with chips, grilled vegetables and an infinite amount of sauces.

Basically, everything that was on the long buffet table, except for the meat -which was being grilled by the men. Logan, your older brother, dragged you in front of the grill and made you wait there with a huge, ceramic dish in your hands. You looked at how all the men were focused on their portion of the grill, but only one caught your attention and it was Chris.

He had his sleeves rolled up and his broad biceps fully on display for everyone. His pecs tensed underneath the think material of his blue shirt and you could clearly see them.

“D’you like what you see?” his tease snapped you out of your thoughts. He saw you blinking and gasping, before, eventually, addressing him an annoyed face, “What? You’re basically drooling over me”, he flipped the grilling meat, interrupting your exchange of gaze, “I have eyes, Little One”.

“Stop calling me like that!”

“It’s not a nickname, it’s a matter of fact” Chris pierced various steaks of meat and nodded you to get closer to him, which you did -even if reluctantly, “You’re ten years younger than me, if I’m not wrong”, he started filling up the dish in your hands with steaks and hot dogs.

“Yeah, you’re right”, you rolled your eyes and stuck out your tongue, “And I hate you”, you saw as he put down the big fork and the spatula and grabbed the plate from your hands -which was becoming hotter.

“Nah, you don’t”, he nodded towards his beer -the second of the day- behind you and you got you had to grab that, “You secretly love me”.

“And that’s such a secret that I didn’t even know it”, you stated and look at your feet as you got down of the area where the grills were. “Thank you for enlightening me, by the way”.

After placing the dish down on the buffet table, you gave the beer back to its owner. While you were handing it to him, your fingers slightly touched, but it was enough for you to shiver.

You couldn’t deny that; Chris had been your first serious crush and being friend with him didn’t help you cause. Moreover, being him very friendly with quite everyone, he’d never missed the chance to hug you, kiss your cheek, or touch your thighs while laughing together -and you loved him being touchy with you.

But that, damn, that wasn’t something you looked for, it came and brought butterflies to your stomach. You taught to kids in elementary school, yet at that moment you felt like a teenager, inexperienced with guys.

You raised your eyes and found him already looking at you. It was like a movie scene; with the two characters whose lives changed once their hands touched. But it was real life, and, in the real life, things didn’t go as in a movie. Your special moment was ruined by your mother yelling your name and searching for you in the yard.

“I gotta go. That’s yours”, and without saying another word, you rushed across the garden and disappeared, leaving Chris speechless and jammed.

You were stuck with your mother and sisters for three hours. You ate with them and told them how your teaching life was going that far, which had been exciting for the first fifteen minutes, then it annoyed you, too. You found yourself often searching for a pair of blue-green eyes which had your knees tremble not long before.

When you could no longer listen to your mother talking about your happy childhood and how your parents had been crucial in your academic choice, you excused yourself and got up, heading to the bathroom. It was occupied at the first floor, so you made your way upstairs and quickly found the room you were looking for.

“Sneaking in my bedroom?”

You flinched when you heard a male voice coming from behind you, and you knew whose voice was that, “You’re unbelievable”.

“Nah, I’m incredible”, Chris put his phone in his back pocket and lowered his gaze at you, “And you’re really cute today”.

You shook your head as the grip on the door handle tightened, “Cute?” you lowered your gaze, looking how you were dressed and looked back at him, “Are you noticing it only now?”

Chris didn’t reply to you, he had a quick glance at your surroundings and wrapped his arms around your waist, pushing you against the door behind you, “I did notice it”, his hand reached the handle and pushed it down. Chris pulled you inside and locked the door once inside, “And I’ve thinking about one-hundred ways to get you under me”.

You weren’t surprised, not at all. To everyone’s eyes you and Chris were just friends who liked hanging out together whenever it was possible. The truth was that you two had history, behind everyone’s back.

You felt his biceps flexing under your hands and you smirked, “And which one is you favorite?” you placed your hands at the base of his neck, “C’mon, tell me”, you encouraged him when you saw he wasn’t going to answer your question.

“We’re in my parents’ house, what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you here?” his grip tightened around your waist and that made you gasp, “C’mon, tell me”, he mocked of you when you didn’t reply to him immediately.

“You become ruthless when it comes to fuck”, you moved your hands behind his neck and pulled a string of hair too long. You brushed his cheek with your lips, and you heard him groaning. Not completely satisfied with yourself, you pulled closer to him and crushed your hips against him.

“Bend over.”

His firm and harsh tone made you shiver. It had always done. When talking like that with you, Chris knew he had you wet, trembling, and throbbing for him. He knew you would have begged him until you were no longer capable of speaking.

You did as he asked, and your face met the cold marble surface before you could hear an abrupt sound and warm spreading on your left ass-cheek.

“Did you just-?” you lifted your head and looked straight at him, startled by what he had just done.

“You can bet you ass I did”, having said that, Chris let his hand fall on your ass once more and the vibration of that spank went straight to your throbbing clit, “Now…tell me what I wanna hear”.

You heard metal noises coming from behind you, acknowledging what he was doing, “Please”.

“I’ll show your ass to the word if you don’t say the magic words”, his big, callous hands went raising your baby blue skirt up to your hips, and soon after they automatically found their way to your chest. Chris dangerously shoved his hardening cock against your core and hissed in pleasure.

You couldn’t endure it anymore; the pleasure growing inside you was too much that it was becoming painful and you knew he wouldn’t let you come if you misbehaved. Your clit was hurting, and it was a matter of time before you would drip yourself wet. You closed your eyes and gave up: “Please, daddy, fuck me”, Chris’ hand went down on your ass-cheek abruptly once more and encouraged you to go on, “Pleeease. I’ve been craving you all day”, you pushed your ass towards his hips, and you heard him cursing under his breath.

“You’re acting like a brat”, he set his buckle next to your face and you shivered, “Do you know what brats get?”

You didn’t reply to him, not because you didn’t want to, but because the pain was becoming too much that you couldn’t assemble a sentence.

“What-”, spank, “-do-”, another spank, “-they-“, Chris changed side, “-get?” one last spank.

“T-they…don’t g-get to c-come”, you were a trembling mess. Your weight was completely on your chest as your legs caved in when he’d started spanking you, “B-but, please, make me cum, daddy”.

“If you keep it quiet and low, I can consider making you come”, Chris’ hands searched for your underwear and, once found it, he pulled it down to your ankles, “Quiet and low, remember”.

You closed your eyes and prayed the God as Chris pushed himself inside you, stretching all your inner muscles. You moaned when he pulled out, only to go back where he left and boost his entire length inside your channel. You arched your back as you felt his thumb teasing your asshole, “P-please”.

“Oh, God…” Chris groaned as increased his pace. Thrusts became quicker and fiercer, leaving you breathless, “Keep it low”, he warned you not a second before adopting an ungodly speed.

You couldn’t form a word anymore, the only things coming out from your mouth were moans -which you had to hold on. You could only beg him for your own release, which wasn’t far away since the familiar warm had already formed and was spreading in your stomach.

“As much I want to take my time with you-“ Chris lifted your chin and made you look at him while speaking, “-I’ve thought of taking you like this the whole day-“, he kissed your forehead and left a trail of sweet kisses from there to your mouth, “-after this, we call it a day and leave”, as he pinched your clit, you both came and you had to repress a scream.

You were out of breath, bent over the furniture in the bathroom of Lisa Evans’ house, and at the mercy of her older son. In less than fifteen minutes Chris had transformed you into a whimpering and sweating mess, you were sticky between your legs, and you back hurt for the countless times you had arched it, “Chris”, you called him, who didn’t appeared better than you, “You gotta help me”.

The man behind you giggled, but helped you standing back on your feet, he re-dressed you and rested a kiss on your collarbone, jaw, nose, and, finally, lips, “Have I ever told you how much I actually like you?” he rhetorically asked, looking straight at your eyes.

“Only every time you fuck me. And before fucking me another time”, you wrap your arms around his waist and rested your head in the crock of his neck, inhaling his strong, musky, after-sex scent -the one you loved so much, yet you weren’t brave enough to tell him that.

“Don’t fall asleep. We have a long afternoon and a long night in front of us”, Chris rub a thumb on your left cheek, and you closed your eyes, wallowing that sensation, “Let’s go, Princess”.

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ALL CHRIS EVANS: 

@stargazingfangirl18

@rororo06​

[hopetofantasy]

Culture, parallels & meta - S3 E3

Zaterdag 08:10

Perfect parallel: An upset Robbe being little spoon to Noor this episode, him being a relaxed little spoon to Sander in the last one.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Moyo has half eaten wafers cookies on his bed. Between the cellphone time and timestamp, it took Robbe five minutes to get dressed and to the beach. The beautiful angel pendant makes its first appearance.

Bonus: This cinematography trick of using a wide shot with nobody else in the sight, makes us actually feel how lonely Robbe actually is. 

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Zaterdag 08:23

C is for culture: “Vamanos” - As you may have noticed, Flemish has a lot of words that aren’t typically Dutch. These are called ‘leenwoorden’ (= ‘borrowing words’). In some cases, the language has made the word its own, with their conjugation or sound (like barbecue - barbecuet - or e-mail - ge-e-maild), other times the expression is copied completely (like smartphone or laptop). There are various reasons as to why people don’t want to change it: globalization, wanting to be more vague/cool, general laziness, ...

Perfect parallel: 

Sander’s playful “Are you the manager?” and “That’ll be zero stars on Booking.com” to Robbe when they meet in this episode, Sander’s sheepish “Zero stars on Booking.com” and Robbe’s pointed “Where is that manager when you need him?”, when they have their fall-out in a later episode. 

Sander saying “When I booked this room, I explicitly asked for room-service” here and him actually booking a room with room-service for the both of them later on.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jens’ keyboard is lying on top of the closet. Sander grabbing his keys (to his car?).

°

Zaterdag 08:44

C is for culture: The option to use self-scanning is pretty common in Belgian supermarkets, especially in shop-and-go city stores. You pick up the scanner, scan the stuff you buy, go to a counter, pay and walk out with your groceries. A sales assistant is still present to help out with problems or do random routine checks. It’s fast, easy and cost-efficient. The downside? Shoplifting becomes a bit easier this way.

That’s character: Sander is putting up a ‘cool guy, devil may care’ facade. He jokes about not scanning everything, dismisses Amber’s list, whirls the shopping cart around and sings David Bowie to this boy. He wants to make a lasting impression on Robbe. If he’s the most charming, chaotic and adventurous version of himself, then he doesn’t have to think about other stuff like his own crumbling relationship. (Also the reason why he doesn’t answer the question about Amber: they simply met through Britt). As the boxes fall down, so does Sander’s tough exterior, as he never intended to hurt Robbe by playing around in the supermarket.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +3, he almost topples off the cart twice and drops the chocolate bars on the floor. (The crash with Sander isn’t his fault though)

Oopsie: 

Sander is wearing a leather jacket, but we don’t see it in the previous clip. Either he left it in his car or it’s an ‘oopsie’.

When Sander accidentally tosses Robbe into the boxes, we hear glass breaking. However, in the next shot, the boxes seem to empty (and they were supposed to be filled with chips, which don’t make that sound).

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Sander is wearing black Converse. They bought Jupiler beer. Robbe pulls out ‘Delhaize’ Biscuit chocolate bars and Florentin cookies.

°

Zaterdag 13:13

C is for culture: "Croques” - The word ‘croque’ is an abbreviation for ‘croque monsieur’ (= ‘crunch mister’). These are grilled ham-and-cheese sandwiches, a typical greasy snack at taverns, markets, carnivals, your home, ... Other versions include the ‘croque madame’ topped with a fried egg, ‘croque bolognese’ with bolognese sauce, ‘croque hawai’ with a pineapple slice.

That’s character: It’s clear that Robbe has no idea how to eat properly. All throughout the season he eats unhealthy breakfasts (choco spread with cookies), snacks (chips, cookies) and dinners (Aïki noodles, frozen lasagna). But here we see the reason: he doesn’t seem to know how to cook or work a stove. Exactly why he buys prepackaged or instant food options. So, it’s probably for the best that Zoë helps out his eating habits.

Perfect parallel:

Robbe making an unhealthy breakfast in the previous episode, Sander providing him with an unhealthy snack in this one. (The way to a man’s heart is through the stomach)

Britt’s condescending “Listening to David Bowie again?” in this episode, her calling Robbe his next obsession similar to David Bowie later on. 

Sander’s “Do you know where I can find the coffee?” to Robbe in an earlier scene and his “Was coffee on the list?” to Amber here.

Robbe’s clumsiness meter: +2, he stumbles backwards after Sander touches his shoulder and burns himself after turning the ‘croque’.

Nod to the OG: This kitchen scene is the equivalent of the ‘5 fine frøkner’ scene, as Sander sings his favorite song to Robbe and makes breakfast, whilst both flirt with each other (subtly).

Oopsie: They supposedly went to ‘Delhaize’ for all their groceries, but the ketchup bottle comes from ‘Carrefour’ and the butter from ‘Colruyt’. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Sander messes up the first words to ‘Under Pressure’ - it’s ‘pressure’ not ‘under pressure’. He mixes the weed with tobacco for his joint. The conflict on Sander’s face at the end.

°

Zondag 16:34

C is for culture: "What kind of shit question is this?” - They’re playing ‘De Slimste Mens ter wereld’ (= ‘The smartest human on earth’), a board game by the popular Flemish television show with the same name. The quiz is very challenging. People have to solve associative, general knowledge and out-of-the-box questions with multiple answers in different rounds. Points are awarded in the form of seconds, which are used during the game. The candidate with time left at the end, wins.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The group is drinking white wine out of plastic cups. Sander studied at ‘de!Kunsthumaniora’, the same school as Noor. Sander’s wearing his combat boots again.

°

Maandag 15:12

C is for culture: Aaron is wearing a bunny costume for the paintball game ‘Hunt the bunny’. This is usually played by people on a bachelor party or a corporate team building (with the groom/boss as the bunny). The goal is simple: the bunny has to cross the field from one corner to another, whilst the hunters shoot as much paintballs as possible to ‘kill’ it. Which is... rather painful, especially at close range. 

Oopsie: What they’re doing is actually illegal or even impossible. People aren’t allowed to play paintball in protected environments, like dunes. Unless they’re doing it with a specialized organization who’s trained for these games (and are present at the time of playing) or have the written permission from the ‘Agency of Nature and Forest’, the police, the city, ... There is a whole heap of permissions, administrative papers and laws to deal with. 

Lost in translation: Britt saying “Doe normaal” (= “Act normal”) has nothing to do with her dismissing Sander’s mental health. This Flemish phrase is often used to calm people down, telling them that they’re acting rather irrationally or childish. It’s an angry way of saying “Can’t you behave yourself? Calm down. What are you doing? Be rational!”. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The blue and red flags tells us that they’re going to play ‘capture the flag’. Some of the ‘pfff’ gun sounds you hear, indicate that the air pressure needs to be checked. Moyo took off his protection mask, which is dangerous and sometimes considered a foul during the game.

°

Dinsdag 20:02

C is for culture: "Do you know how to make s’mores?” - Toasting marshmallows above a campfire, isn’t really a tradition in Belgium. So that’s why the girls don’t know how to make s’mores. 

Lost in translation: ’Smoor’ is a Flemish dialect word for smoke or the act of smoking. It does sound a lot like ‘s’mores’. This is why Luca thinks Aaron wants to hold the marshmallow into the fire. 

Oop, there it is, the homophobia / heteronormativity: Of course Robbe had nothing to lose with Noor, he wasn’t actually interested in her. With Sander, however, Robbe doesn’t dare to do anything.

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Aaron is drinking ‘Bock’ beer.��Amber looks at Aaron like she really likes him, when he’s preparing the s’mores.

°

Woensdag 20:42

C is for culture: 

“An old german bunker” - The province of West-Flanders as well as its coast still has a lot of remnants left from WWI. From German bunkers to trench-networks, burial sites and museums, the 'Great war’ left its traces. Unsurprisingly, every year, people still find around 300 tons of (active) bombs underneath the fields.

“Around ‘All Souls’ Day’ they come back to life” - ‘All Souls’ Day’ is a christian holiday on the 2nd of November, on which the dead are commemorated. However, since that day isn’t an official holiday in Belgium, people visit the graves and honor of their loved ones on the 1st of November, ‘All Saint’s Day’. 

The group drinking ‘jenever’ shots - ‘Jenever’ (known in English as ‘Dutch gin’ or ‘genever’) is a traditional liquor in Belgium and the Netherlands. Young people usually drink these colored, high percentage spirits at Christmas markets, pre-drinks or parties when it’s cold outside. Different flavors include vanilla, chocolate, berries, lemon, apple, ...

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The wooden panel behind Jens says ‘Volg de pijlen’ (= ‘Follow the arrows’). Aaron and Amber are holding hands after their fall. Robbe downs a chocolate-cream ‘jenever’ shot at the end. 

°

Woensdag 21:53

Perfect parallel: Robbe lashing out at his friends in this episode - he feels left out and confused about his sexuality - and blames the pranks. Him doing the same in the next - he thinks his friends are hypocrites by saying homophobic comments to him yet defending the gay teacher - and blames the vlogs. 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: The second living room has a spinning disco light.

°

Donderdag 21:12

C is for culture:

“In dat jeugdhuis” - A ‘jeugdhuis’ (= ‘youth house’) is a meeting place, run by young volunteers. All teens and young adults are welcome to hang out, throw parties, drink at their bar, organize concerts, attend workshops - just making the space their own. 

“He sounded like a begging Romanian” - Luca is referring to Romanian Romani families, who roam around in the streets of Brussels begging for some money. These ethnic groups have a mostly negative image amongst the Europeans. Which is why she states this harsh and hurtful comparison.

Perfect parallel: Noor asking Robbe for a playlist so she can listen to his favorite songs here, Sander actually making a Bowie playlist for Robbe in the next episode.

Lost in translation: Luca is mocking the West-Flemish dialect by copying what the boy said, namely “Moe’en julder ok ‘n flyer ‘ennen?”. This dialect is known for blowing their ‘g’ and ‘h’ so that they sound similar, conjugating their 'yes’ or ‘no’, having double subjects, seemingly swallowing some letters, among other things. It’s one of the most confusing and difficult dialects for the Flemish to understand themselves.

Oopsie: When Aaron asks Amber if she needs a drink, Britt and Sander are dancing right behind him. When she answers and walks away, they’re suddenly gone, only to be seen again when Moyo walks over.

Nod to the OG/Wink to other remakes: The ‘call your girlfriend’ kiss, duh! 

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Jana is wearing one white contact lens.

°

Vrijdag 08:43

Perfect parallel: 

Sander searching for coffee first thing in the morning earlier this episode and him pouring a cup before any task in this clip.

Sander’s “Maybe I’m scared that I will never find someone” here and Robbe’s multi-layered “I’m so happy that I found you” in the last episode.

Oopsie: When the boys walk to the recycling spot, the lighting changes from sunny to clouded to dark in a matter of seconds.

Funny coincidence: Sander referring to his relationship as ‘ups and downs’, probably similar to his experience with bipolarity.

Wink to other remakes: An almost kiss near trash, remind you of certain Italian boys?

Blink-and-y’ll-miss-it: Amber delegating tasks, but doing nothing herself. Robbe smiles for a few milliseconds, because Sander touched him. The flash of panic in Robbe’s eyes afterwards.

[tf2-hellhole]

Do you have any Parent!Merc headcanons? (Honestly, all of your content clears my skin and waters my crops)

Awww I’m glad you like my blog!! I kinda based this off of my merc retirement headcanons btw

Scout:

When his first kid is born/adopted, he’s really nervous. He doesn’t know if he can be a good parent for his kid, and the idea of letting his child down the way his father let him down terrifies him. It takes a lot of comforting from his S/O to make that anxiety go away.

Whenever the baby cries in the middle of the night, he always gets up to go to them, every time. He’ll fix whatever is upsetting and will just sit with them until they go back to sleep, silently and lovingly watching over them before going back to cuddle his S/O if they woke up too.

He’s the friend-dad type. The kinda guy who runs around the house playing tag with his kids and eventually breaks something by bumping into a table.

He will absolutely teach every single one of his kids to play baseball. They have broken seven windows while practicing, some of them the neighbors’ windows.

He will show up to PTA meetings, and he WILL throw tons of shade at the asshole soccer mom

Soldier:

Soldier is so unbelievably excited when the child is brought home. Finally, he’s a dad!

Will unironically tell his baby to stop being lazy and to get up and help around the house.

He’s a little strict but he’s actually an excellent parent. His S/O was actually a little worried about how he would be with the kids but he spends a lot of time with them and they have a great relationship

He’s that parent who shows up to every band concert/sports game/whatever and screams encouragement from the crowd. He has been kicked out of several events.

He’s always encouraging his children to put in lots of effort and work towards achieving their dreams. He’d like his kids to join the military, but he surprisingly doesn’t complain if they don’t

Pyro:

Pyro is excellent with babies and children, though they can’t care for them. Like, he can play with and entertain a baby and is very careful with one, but he doesn’t know how to properly feed, bathe, or clothe it. That part of raising the child is more up to their S/O.

Somehow, they can get the baby to go to sleep very easily

They’re always wanting to go on fun adventures with their S/O and kids on the weekends. They all travel all over and it’s really fun.

Annual Disneyland trips are mandatory

Overall, Pyro is the fun parent and they have an excellent relationship with their kids. But the dynamic is more like the S/O raising a few normal kids and one larger kid that has a job.

Has a very cute nickname for each kid, each one related to some kind of candy or small animal. Only their S/O and kids know about it, since they always wear their mask in public.

Demo:

Demo absolutely panics when he learns that his S/O is pregnant/wants to adopt. He wants kids but he’s really convinced that he can’t raise a child, and he’s scared that his S/O will leave him over this. He literally has a panic attack and needs to be comforted by his S/O.

His S/O acknowledges that he’s not perfect, but they know that if he really wants kids, he can put in the effort to change for the better. With their encouragement, he goes into rehab and after several attempts he manages to quit drinking.

But this also results in Demo’s family distancing him more over the fact that he knows what his parent’s methods of raising him did to him and doesn’t want that for his kid. After this, the only person who will still talk to him is his mother, but he couldn’t care less.

He’s a surprisingly responsible father, but he’s still very playful with his S/O and children.

He’s very physically affectionate. He always gives his little children lots of cuddles and tickles and playful kisses to make them laugh. Once they’re grown, he always hugs his daughter(s) when he sees them and gives his son(s) the handshake-bro-hug because he’s the cool dad

Heavy:

While his S/O are trying to find children to adopt, he falls for all the kids who have been through the most. He wants to give them the future they’ve been denied by the circumstances of their life. He will demand to adopt any Russian immigrant children if they find any

He hates how he intimidates the children with his size when they’re first brought home. There are a few nights he can’t sleep because of how horrible he feels about it, and even fewer where he has to be comforted by his S/O the whole night.

He finally gets his children to trust him with reading. If they’re little kids, he’ll read to them all the time. If they’re older, he’ll buy them books of their favorite genre and will probably try reading it himself so he can discuss it with them. It totally works.

He’s a very, very good listener. His kids will often go to him for advice, even once they’re adults. He’ll listen attentively and he won’t say a word until they’re finished speaking, then he’ll give his thoughts. It’s almost like therapy.

Engie:

Engie is a family man, through and through. He’s always dreamed of having a family and he’s so excited that he’s finally made it!

He’s always giving his kids tons of encouragement, and he is always reminding them of the value of hard work and lots of effort.

Once his kids are old enough, he has them help him around his ranch and teaches them to ride horses.

He loves to take his family to all sorts of fun places on weekends and vacations. His personal favorite place to take them is the rodeo, of course.

He barbecues and grills stuff all the time. It’s one of his favorite things to do, and will definitely teach his kids how to do it. His kids are always excited for the weekend because that’s usually when he has the time to grill, and some of his kids will pout if he doesn’t have the time to do it.

He loves telling people about his kids. He’s so proud of all of their accomplishments and loves them all dearly.

Medic:

He’s actually kind of distant from his child for the first few years of having them in his life. It causes some tension between him and his S/O. But after a while, he sees that this is what his parents were like to him. He remembered how little they cared for him, and how much that hurt him. So he makes an effort to bond with his child, and over a long while they eventually become very close.

His child will absolutely also have an interest in the human body, and will often join their father in the lab, even if Medic’s S/O thinks it’s not safe for them. Most of their bonding is over their shared interest

He lowkey spoils his kid, but he’s very good about not taking it so far that they become a brat. He doesn’t want his kid to be like he was when he was young.

He loves traveling with his family, and he’ll take them all over the globe. He encourages his child to learn a language other than German and his S/O’s language and to study in another country for a while. He absolutely wants them to get a higher education. He doesn’t understand if his child chooses not to, but he still supports them.

Sniper:

He misses his S/O and kid(s) so much when he’s out working for several days, but he has to get money to support them. He has a bunch of pictures he keeps in his camper for when he misses them or feels lonely.

When he calls to see how his family is doing, he always has to talk to his kid(s) and ask them how their day was, and how school was.

He loves to take his kid(s) out into the wild and teach them about plants and animals and all sorts of things about nature. By the time they’re 18 they’re practically an expert on the ecosystem of where they live.

He definitely teaches his kid(s) to use a bow or gun once they’re older, even if his S/O tells him it’s unsafe. It’ll be he and the child’s little secret.

He’s a surprisingly playful and affectionate parent, and is always getting up to all sorts of shenanigans with them.

He has a bunch of silly nicknames for them, most of them animal names. He probably started jokingly calling his S/O his ‘roo and his kid(s) his joey(s), but it eventually sticks.

Spy:

Like Medic, he’s a little cold to the child for the first few months after they’re adopted, but he sees how much this hurts and worries his S/O, so that’s when he starts making an effort to bond with them. It’s pretty awkward at first but he eventually becomes close with them. He does this by taking the child wherever they’d like to go and basically getting them whatever they want.

Spy sometimes cries quietly during the night with his partner there to comfort him. He never thought he’d have a family of his own, and he doesn’t know what he did to deserve his S/O or his child.

He will absolutely make sure his child knows how to defend themselves. He’s still paranoid that his enemies will find his family someday despite how good he is about keeping his connection to them secret, so he teaches them to fight with no weapons and with some small melee weapons.

If his child is homeschooled, (they probably will be) he teaches as many lessons as he can. He’s kind of an asshole teacher at first but after receiving some pointers from his S/O, he becomes a very patient and gentle teacher.

[peachyydesires]

🍔 w keiji?

a/n: bro.. i got some intellectuals on my page they know what’s up buff keiji arms while barbecuing mhmm

🍔 Barbecue / Food (Anything to do with how’d they help out at the barbecue)

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

⭑this man is definitely doing the majority of the barbecuing 

⭑he may not be as good of a chef as kai but that doesn’t mean he can’t make a mean burger 

⭑he probably hogs the entire grill ngl and won’t let anyone help him besides q-taro since he knows how to grill hotdogs (why wouldn’t he? he’s a baseball star)

⭑while he can easily make burgers, grilled chicken wings, ribs, corn on the cob, etc, he literally can not grill any other vegetable for the life of him 

⭑like one moment there’ll be a regular old bell pepper or something on the grill and then the next it’ll be on fire somehow in seconds

⭑q-taro would put it out, considering keiji probably wouldn’t even notice and if he did see that the vegetable was in flames he’d go “oh that’s normal don’t worry” 

⭑but grilling while DRUNK is a whole other story

⭑the food would be undercooked, he’d probably burn his hand several times and even spill his beer on the grill causing a flame to flare up

⭑seriously you have to watch him while he grills even though he’s such a good barbecuer he’s just so reckless and could easily burn down a house

⭑then again he rolls up his sleeves and shows off his arm muscles whenever he barbecues so he’s certainly fun to watch

⭑*•̩̩͙⊱••••✩••••̩̩͙⊰•*⭑

   The savory aroma of meat quickly filled the backyard as loud sizzling was heard from the grill, small popping noises and hisses rising from the grill as several different kinds of meat and vegetables slowly cooked, basking in the heat of the flames that would occasionally flare up in between the metal bars.

   Despite being on the other side of the backyard, you could still smell the aromatic smell the grill was producing as you watched Keiji grill from a distance. You were quite jealous that he was in charge of the barbeque outside; you would’ve either still been in the pool or out on the street watching the sunset if he hadn’t offered himself up to manage the grill.

   You knew he was an exceptionally good cook when compared to most people. You were lucky to have such a caring boyfriend, after all, as all he did was cook for you when you got too lazy to do it yourself. But you wanted to spend time with him, not just stand around in the background of the party while everyone else either socialized or were off with their own partners. 

   You were also annoyed at the smells that were practically taunting you to come over; you didn’t have much for lunch and you wanted so badly to walk over to the grill and steal a plate of food early. 

   Which is how your little idea sparked in the first place to go bug Keiji.

   You walked around the pool, staying out of his sight and soon approaching him from behind with a wide, mischievous smirk as you suddenly threw your arms over his shoulders, “Guesssss whooo?” 

   A small chuckle racked his body as it escaped from his lips, yet his main focus was still on the grill as he began flipping the half-cooked burgers. You held in a huff and began watching his movements, the smell from before only magnified now that you were standing directly in front of the grill.

   “How’s it going?” You asked, still clinging to his shoulders as you pressed yourself against his back. He stiffened slightly before momentarily relaxing once more as he took his gaze off the grill for a second and looked at you with a focused yet entertained grin.

   “Well, I’d say pretty good now that you’re over here, cutie.” He casually flirted before switching his focus back onto the food, his grin falling back into more of an earnest pout as his lips pursed subconsciously. 

   You stayed silent for a bit longer, your patience thinning more and more as you caught on that he wouldn’t be done anytime soon. So that was what formed another idea in your head and led you to stand up on your tippy-toes and whisper something tantalizing into his ear, a smirk staining your delicate features.

   Before you could finish, however, his entire body suddenly lurched backward as he winced hard, nearly throwing you off. He let out a pained grunt and the  spatula he had been holding fell with a clatter onto the ground. 

   You immediately detached yourself from his back and stepped away to give him space as you saw for yourself the burn that was now forming rapidly on the side of his palm.

   An angry red stained the burnt skin, standing out amongst Keiji’s pale skin and otherwise unscarred arm. Meanwhile, he had one of his eyes screwed shut and you could tell his jaw was locked with his teeth gritting together. You quickly wasted no time and grabbed his other hand, turning off the grill before leading him inside the house and beelining for the bathroom.

   You forced him to sit down on the edge of the bathtub, and a moment later you had a small bowl filled nearly to the top with cold water. You sat down on the closed toilet seat and rested the bowl in your lap as you gently took his wrist and dipped his burned hand into the water, knowing he was still in shock from it all.

   The room was quiet for a few minutes before Keiji finally spoke up, “You really caught me off guard back there, sunshine.”

   You snapped your head up, your gaze meeting relaxed eyes and a lopsided grin. Your eyebrows shot up as you just couldn’t process how calm he seemed about the whole situation as he went on, “Y’know, I think you owe me at least a kiss for interrupting my barbecuing.”

   Your cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment as you realized he had caught on to what you had been trying to do, “Y-You knew?”

   “Of course I knew, I can always tell when you’re being a needy brat. But it’s not like I don’t enjoy the attention.” He teased, slipping his free hand in between your’s and lightly squeezing it. 

   “Aren’t you mad?” You asked cautiously, your eyes darting from his tranquil expression to his burnt hand. It seemed to be quickly healing, and it was merely a first-degree burn despite your earlier assumptions.

   Keiji shook his head, a cheeky yet scandalous smirk spreading on his features, “Of course not. For one, it was my fault, two, you’re still in debt to me. I need that kiss, and maybe what you were talking about earlier if you really want to apologize.” 

   You blinked, not registering his words for a short moment before your cheeks darkened and you refused to make eye contact with him, “W-Whatever. Just c’mere, you big goof.”

[grillpartshub-blog]

Buy #Lazy Man #Barbecue- Built in Grill- #Natural Gas Grills in #Affordable Price

Lazy Man Barbecue- Built in Grill- Natural Gas Model. SHOP NOW!!

[aion-rsa]

Summer Movie Preview: From Black Widow to The Suicide Squad and Beyond

https://ift.tt/3fnRIQl

The summer movie season has returned. Finally. Once something we all just took for granted, like handshakes and indoor dining, a summertime season stuffed with pricy Hollywood blockbusters and cinematic escapism suddenly feels like a long lost friend. But, rest assured, the summer movie season is genuinely and truly here. It’s maybe a little later than normal, yet it’s still in time for Memorial Day in the States.

This is of course happy news since many of the big screen events of this year have been 12 months or more in the offing. A Quiet Place Part II was supposed to open two Marches ago, and In the Heights is opening almost an exact year to the day from its original release. They’re here now, as is an impressive assortment of new films. There are genre fans’ long lost superhero spectacles, with Black Widow and The Suicide Squad leading the pack (and Shang-Chi closing out the season unusually late in time for Labor Day weekend), and there are also horror movies like The Conjuring 3 and M. Night Shyamalan’s Old, aforementioned musicals, family adventures in Jungle Cruise, psychedelic Arthurian legends via The Green Knight, and a few legitimately original projects like Stillwater and Reminiscence. Imagine that!

So sit back, put your feet in the pool, or up by the grill pit, and toast with us the summer movie’s resurrection.

A Quiet Place Part II

May 28 (June 3 in the UK)

Fourteen months after its original release date, the first movie delayed by the pandemic is finally coming to theaters for Memorial Day weekend. And despite what some critics say (even our own), most of us would argue it’s worth the wait. As a movie about a family enduring after a global crisis that has left their lives in tatters, and marred by personal tragedy, A Quiet Place Part II hits differently in 2021 than it would have a year ago. And it’s undeniably optimistic view of humanity feels like a warm balm now.

But beyond the meta context, writer-director John Krasinski (flying solo as screenwriter this time) has engineered a series of intelligent and highly suspenseful set pieces which puts Millicent Simmonds’ Regan front and center. Also buoyed by subtle and affecting work by Emily Blunt and Cillian Murphy, here as a neighbor they knew a few years and a lifetime ago, this is one worth dipping your toe back into cinema for, especially if you liked the first movie.

Cruella

May 28

We’ll admit it, we had the same initial skepticism you’re probably feeling about a Cruella de Vil origin story set in punk rock’s 1970s London. But put your cynicism aside, Disney’s Cruella is a decadent blast and the rarest of things: a live-action Disney remake that both honors its source material and does something creative with it. Neither a soulless scene-by-scene remake of a better animated film, or a lazy Maleficent like re-imagining, Cruella more often than not rocks, thanks in large part to its lead performance by Emma Stone.

Also a producer on the picture, Stone takes on the role of Cruella de Vil like it’ll be on an awards reel and absolutely flaunts the character’s madness and devilish charm. She also finds an excellent sparring partner via Emma Thompson, young Cruella’s very own Miranda Priestly. Once these two start their verbal battle at the end of the first act, the movie is elevated into an electric period comedy (with plenty of heavy handed period music). It’s a pseudo-thriller for all ages, enjoying some very sharp elbows for a kids movie.

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It

June 4 (May 26 in the UK)

The latest big-screen adventure for real-life ghostbusters Ed and Lorraine Warren (Patrick Wilson and Vera Farmiga) sees the two drawn into the unusual case of the first ever U.S. murder trial where the defendant claimed he was innocent because he was possessed by a demon. This is the eighth movie in The Conjuring expanded universe—director Michael Chaves has already made a foray into this supernatural world with The Curse of La Llorona—and as with all the main Conjuring films, the hook is that it’s (very loosely) based on a true case that the Warrens were involved with.

Peter Safran and James Wan are back on board as producers, although with this being the first time Wan isn’t directing one of the main Ed and Lorraine investigations, we’re a little cautious about this return to the haunted museum.

In the Heights

June 11 (June 18 in the UK)

Lin-Manuel Miranda’s first Tony award winning musical is getting the proper big screen treatment in In the Heights. A full-fledged movie musical—as opposed to a taped series of performances, a la Disney+’s Hamilton—In the Heights is like a sweet summer drink (or Piragua) and love letter to the Latino community of New York City’s Washington Heights neighborhood.

Read more

Movies

Best Movie Musicals of the 21st Century

By David Crow

Movies

The Conjuring: The Devil Made Me Do It and the Perils of Taking on a Real Life Murder

By Rosie Fletcher

Closer in spirit to the feel-good summertime joy of Grease than the narratively complex Hamilton, this is perfect multiplex escapism (which will also be on HBO Max if you’re so inclined). Directed by Crazy Rich Asians’ Jon M. Chu, In the Heights has a euphoric sense of movement and dance as it transfers Miranda’s hybrid blend of freestyle rap, salsa rhythm, and Caribbean musical cues to the actual city blocks the show was written about. On one of those corners lives Usnavi (Anthony Ramos), a bodega owner with big dreams. He’s about to have the summer of his life. You might too.

Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard

June 16 (June 21 in the UK)

You know Hitman’s Wife’s Bodyguard is a throwback when even its trailer brings back the “trailer voice.” But then the appeal of the 2017 B-action comedy, The Hitman’s Bodyguard, was its very throwback nature: a violent, raunchy R-rated buddy comedy that starred Samuel L. Jackson and Ryan Reynolds, who exchanged quips as much as bullets between some genuinely entertaining stunts.

Hopefully the sequel can also be as much lowbrow fun as it doubles down on the premise, with Reynolds’ Michael Bryce now guarding Samla Hayek’s Sonia, the wife of Jackson’s Darius. All three are on a road trip through Italy as they’re chased by Antonio Banderas in what is sure to be a series of bloody, explosive set pieces. Probably a few “motherf***ers” will be dropped too.

Luca

June 18

Pixar Studios’ hit rate is frankly incredible. With each new film seemingly comes a catchy song, an Oscar nomination, and a flood of tears from anyone with a heart—and there’s no reason to believe that its next offering will be any different. Luca is a coming-of-age tale set on the Italian Riviera about a pair of young lads who become best friends and have a terrific summer getting into adventures in the sun. The slight catch is that they’re both sea monsters.

Read more

Movies

How Luca Became the First Pixar Movie Made at Home

By Don Kaye

Movies

Pixar, Italian Style: Why Luca is Set in 1950s Italy

By Don Kaye

This is the feature directorial debut of Enrico Casarosa, who says the movie is a celebration of friendship with nods to the work of Federico Fellini and Hayao Miyazaki. The writers are Jesse Andrews and Mike Jones—Andrews is new to Pixar but has experience with coming-of-agers, having penned Me and Earl and the Dying Girl, while Jones co-wrote Soul. Jacob Tremblay and Jack Dylan Grazer voice the young boys (sea monsters)—13-year-old Luca and his older teenager friend Alberto—with Maya Rudolph as Luca’s sea monster mom. After a year of lockdown, this could be the summer movie we all need.

F9

June 25

You better start firing up the grill, because the Fast and Furious crew is finally ready to have another summer barbecue. And this time, it’s not only the folks whom Dom Toretto calls “mi familia” in attendance. The big new addition to F9 is 

John Cena as Jakob Toretto. As the long-lost little brother we didn’t know Vin Diesel’s Dom had, Jakob is revealed to be a superspy, assassin, and performance driver working for Dom’s arch-nemesis, Cypher (Charlize Theron). Everything the Family does together, Jakob does alone, as a one-man wrecking crew, and he’s coming in hot.

Fans will probably be happier, though, to see Sung Kang back as Han Seoul-Oh, the wheelman who was murdered in Fast & Furious 6, and then pretty much forgotten in The Fate of the Furious when his killer got invited to the cookout. It’s an injustice that brought veteran series director Justin Lin back to  the franchise to resurrect the dead. So it’s safe to assume he won’t be asking Cypher to bring the potato salad.

The Forever Purge

July 2 (July 16 in the UK)

We know what you’re thinking: Didn’t The Purge: Election Year end the Purge forever? That or “are they really still making these?” The answer to both questions is yes. Nevertheless, here we are with The Forever Purge, a movie which asks what happens if Purgers just, you know, committed extravagant holiday crime on the other 364 days of the year? You get what is hopefully the grand finale of this increasingly tired concept.

The Tomorrow War

July 2

Hear me out: What if it’s like The Terminator but in reverse? That had to be the pitch for this one, right? In The Tomorrow War, instead of evil cyborgs time traveling to the past to kill our future savior, soldiers from the future time travel to the past to enlist our current best warrior and take him to a world on the brink 30 years from now.

It’s a crazy premise, and the kind of high-concept popcorn that one imagines Chris Pratt excels at. Hence Pratt’s casting as Dan, one of the best soldiers of the early 21st century who’ll go into the future to stop an alien invasion. The supporting cast, which includes Oscar winner J.K. Simmons and Yvonne Strahovski, Betty Gilpin, and Sam Richardson, is also nothing to sneeze at.

Black Widow

July 9

The idea of making a Black Widow movie has been around since long before the Marvel Cinematic Universe first lifted into the sky on Tony Stark’s repulsors. The character has been onscreen for more than a decade now, and Marvel Studios has for too long danced around making a solo Widow, at least in part due to the machinations of Marvel Entertainment chairman Ike Perlmutter.

Read more

Movies

How Black Widow Could Build The MCU’s Future

By Kayti Burt

Movies

Upcoming Marvel Movies Release Dates: MCU Phase 4 Schedule, Cast, and Story Details

By Mike Cecchini and 1 other

But the standalone Black Widow adventure is here at last, and it now serves as a sort-of coda to the story of Natasha Romanoff, since we already know her tragic fate in Avengers: Endgame. Directed by Cate Shortland (Berlin Syndrome, Lore), the movie will spell out how Natasha (Scarlett Johansson) kept herself busy between the events of Captain America: Civil War and Avengers: Infinity War, primarily with a trip home to Russia to clear some of that red from her ledger.

There, she will reunite with figures from her dark past, including fellow Red Room alumnus Yelena Belova (Florence Pugh), Russian would-be superhero Alexei Shostakov, aka the Red Guardian (David Harbour), and Melina Vostokoff (Rachel Weisz), another survivor of the Black Widow program and a maternal figure to Natasha and Yelena.

It’s a chance to say goodbye to Nat and see Johansson as the beloved Avengers one more time. But this being Marvel, we suspect that the studio has a few tricks up its sleeve and in this movie about the future of Phase 4.

Space Jam: A New Legacy

July 16

In the annals of synergistic branding, Space Jam: A New Legacy might be one for the record books. A sequel to an older millennials’ 1990s touchstones—the thoroughly mediocre Michael Jordan meets Bugs Bunny movie, Space Jam—this sequel sees LeBron James now trapped in Looney Tunes world… but wait, there’s more! Instead of only charmingly interacting with WB’s classic stable of cartoon characters, King James will also be in the larger “WB universe” where the studio will resurrect from the dead every property they own the copyright to, from MGM’s classic 1939 The Wizard of Oz to, uh, the murderous rapists in A Clockwork Orange.

… yay for easter eggs?

Old

July 23

Though he might be accused of being a little bit hit-and-miss in the past, the release of a new M. Night Shyamalan movie should always be cause for celebration. Especially one with such a deeply creepy premise. Based on the graphic novel Sandcastle by Pierre Oscar Levy and Frederik Peeters, Old sees a family on vacation discover that the beach they are on causes them to age extremely rapidly and live out their entire lives in a day.

This is surely perfect fodder for Shyamalan, who does high-concept horror like no one else. The cast is absolute quality, featuring Gael García Bernal, Hereditary’s Alex Wolff, Jo Jo Rabbit’s Thomasin McKenzie, Phantom Thread’s Vicky Krieps, Little Women’s Eliza Scanlen, and many more. The trailer is pleasingly disturbing too as children become teenagers, a young woman is suddenly full-term pregnant, and adults seem to be decaying in front of their own eyes. Harrowing in the best possible way.

Snake Eyes

July 23 (August 20 in the UK)

Snake Eyes will finally bring us the origin story of the G.I. Joe franchise’s most iconic and beloved member. Henry Golding (Crazy Rich Asians) stars in the title role, with Warrior’s Andrew Koji as his nemesis—conflicted baddie (and similar fan fave) Storm Shadow. Expect a tale heavy on martial arts badassery, especially with The Raid’s Iko Uwais on board as the pair’s ninja master. Samara Weaving will play G.I. Joe staple Scarlett after her breakout a few years ago in Ready or Not, while Úrsula Corberó has been cast as Cobra’s Baroness. Robert Schwentke (The Time Traveler’s Wife, Red) directs.

Jungle Cruise

July 30

Jungle Cruise director Jaume Collet-Serra is best known for making slightly dodgy actioners starring Liam Neeson (Unknown, Non-Stop, Run All Night) and half-decent horror movies (Orphan, The Shallows), so exactly which direction this family adventure based on a theme park ride will take remains to be seen.

Borrowing a page and premise from Humphrey Bogart and Katharine Hepburn in The African Queen (1951), Jungle Cruise stars the ever-charismatic Dwayne Johnson as a riverboat captain taking Emily Blunt’s scientist and her brother (Jack Whitehall) to visit the fabled Tree of Life in the early 20th century. Like the ride, the gang will have to watch out for wild animals along the way.

Unlike the ride, they’re competing with a German expedition team who are heading for the same goal. A solid supporting cast (Jesse Plemons, Édgar Ramírez, Paul Giamatti, Andy Nyman) and a script with rewrites by Michael Green (Logan, Blade Runner 2049) might mean Disney has another hit on its hands. Either way, a lovely boat trip with The Rock should be diverting at worst.

The Green Knight

July 30 (August 6 in the UK)

There have been several major Hollywood reimaginings of Arthurian legends in the 21st century. And every one of them has been thoroughly rotten for one reason or another. Luckily, David Lowery’s The Green Knight looks poised to break the trend with a trippy, but twistedly faithful, interpretation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.

Dev Patel stars as Sir Gawain, a chivalrous knight in King Arthur’s court who takes up the challenge of the mysterious Green Knight (The Witch’s Ralph Ineson under mountains of makeup): He’ll swing a blow and risk receiving a returning strike in a year’s time. Gawain attempts to cheat the devil by cutting his head clean off, yet when the Green Knight lifts his severed head from Camelot’s floors, things start to get weird. As clearly one of A24’s biggest visual fever dreams to date, this is one we’re highly anticipating.

Stillwater

July 30 (August 6 in the UK)

The Oscar winning-writer director behind Spotlight, Tom McCarthy, returns to the big screen with a fictional story that feels awfully similar to real world events. In this film, Matt Damon plays Bill, a proud father who saw his daughter Allison (Abigail Breslin) go abroad to study in France. After she’s accused of murdering her roommate by local authorities, the deeply Southern and deeply Oklahoman father must travel to a foreign land to try and prove his daughter’s innocence.

It obviously has some parallels with the Amanda Knox story but it also looks like a potentially hard hitting original drama with a talented cast. Fingers crossed.

The Suicide Squad

August 6 (July 30 in the UK)

You might have seen a Suicide Squad movie in the past, but you’ve never seen James Gunn’s The Suicide Squad. With a liberating R-rating and an old school vision from the Guardians of the Galaxy director—who likens this to 1960s war capers, such as The Dirty Dozen or Where Eagles Dare—this Suicide Squad is absolutely stacked with talented actors wallowing in DC weirdness. One of the key players in this is Polka-Dot Man, another is a walking, talking Great White Shark, voiced by Sylvester Stallone. The villain is a Godzilla-sized starfish from space!

Read more

Movies

Margot Robbie Wants Poison Ivy to Join Harley Quinn in the DCEU

By Kayti Burt

Movies

What to Expect from the Candyman Reimagining

By David Crow

So like it’s namesake, there’s probably a lot of characters who aren’t going to pull through this one. Even so, we can rest easy knowing that Margot Robbie’s Harley Quinn will be as winsome than ever, and the likes of Idris Elba and John Cena will add some dynamic gravitas to the eccentric DC Extended Universe.

Free Guy

August 13

Perhaps pitched as The Truman Show for the video game age, Free Guy stars Ryan Reynolds as an easygoing, happy-go-lucky “Guy” who discovers… he’s a video game NPC living inside the equivalent of a Grand Theft Auto video game. This might explain why the bank he works at keeps getting robbed all the time. But as a virtual sprite who’s developed sentiency, he just might be able to win over enough gamers to not shoot him, and make love not war.

It’s an amusing premise, and hopefully director Shawn Levy can bring to it the same level of charm he achieved with the very first Night at the Museum movie.

Respect

August 13 (September 10 in the UK)

Before her passing in 2018, Aretha Franklin gave her blessing to Jennifer Hudson to play the Queen of Soul. Now that musical biopic is here with Hudson hitting the same high notes of the legend who sang such standards as “(You Make Me Feel Like) A Natural Woman,” “Think,” “I Say a Little Prayer,” and of course “Respect.”

The film comes with a lot of expectation and a lot of pedigree, with Forest Whitaker and Audra McDonald in the cast. Most of all though, it comes with that rich musical library, which will surely take center stage. And if movies like Bohemian Rhapsody and Rocketman have taught us anything, it’s that moviegoers love when you play the hits.

Reminiscence

August 20 (August 18 in the UK)

Lisa Joy is one of the most exciting voices on television today. One-half of the creative team behind Westworld, Joy steps into her own with her directorial debut (and as the solo writer) in Reminiscence, a science fiction film with a reliably knotty premise.

Hugh Jackman plays Nick Bannister, a man who lives in a dystopian future where the oceans have risen and the cities are crumbling. In a declining Miami, he sells a risky new technology that allows you to relive your past (and possibly change it, at least fancifully?). But when he discovers the lost love of his life (Rebecca Ferguson) is cropping up in other peoples’ memories, which seem to implicate her in a murder, well… things are bound to start getting weird. We don’t know a whole lot more, but we cannot wait to find out more.

Candyman

August 27

Announced back in 2018, this spiritual sequel to Bernard Rose’s 1992 original is one of the most exciting and anticipated movies on the calendar. Produced by Jordan Peele and directed by Nia DaCosta, the film takes place in the present day and about a decade after Chicago’s Cabrini-Green housing projects have been torn down. Watchmen’s Yahya Abdul-Mateen II plays an up-and-coming visual artist who moves to the now-gentrified area with his partner and is inspired by the legend of Candyman, an apparition with a hook for a hand, to create new work about the subject. But in doing so, he risks unleashing a dark history and a new wave of violence.

Tony Todd, the star of the original movie, will also reprise his role in a reboot that aims to inspire fear for only the right reasons.

The Beatles: Get Back

August 27

Director Peter Jackson thinks folks have a poisoned idea about the Beatles in their final days. Often portrayed as divided and antagonistic toward one another during the recordings of their last albums, particularly Let It Be (which was their penultimate studio recording and final release), Jackson insists this misconception is influenced by Michael Lindsay-Hogg’s 1970 documentary named after the album.

So, after going through the reams of footage Lindsay-Hogg shot but didn’t use, Jackson has crafted this new documentary about the album’s recording which is intended to paint a fuller (and more feel-good) portrait of the band which changed the world. Plus, the music’s going to be great… 

Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings

September 3

The greatest fighter in Marvel history finally hits the big screen with Shang-Chi and the Legend of the Ten Rings. Simu Liu (Kim’s Convenience) takes on the title role of a character destined for a bright future in the MCU. Marvel fans might note that the “Ten Rings” of the title is the same organization that first appeared all the way back in Iron Man, and Tony Leung will finally bring their villainous leader, The Mandarin, to life. Awkwafina of The Farewell and Crazy Rich Asians fame also stars. Directed by Destin Daniel Cretton (Short Term 12), this should deliver martial arts action unlike anything we’ve seen so far in the MCU.

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[lucyhblack]

I had this mental image a long, long time ago (that of the Cornys being treated like sausages by a Papython dressed in an apron and chef's hat) and this exact passage written several and several months ago.

The story just didn't develop (I only had that stretch in mind and nothing else) until today. I just sat and wrote it. Without any planning! It just flowed from the mind to the keyboard.

(And there is proof that stories have a life of their own and want to be told)

So there it is. A small snippet of what I imagine to be one day at the Vex adoption store.

Thank you @vex-bittys for creating such a fun universe and allowing us to play with it!

Summary: It was a beautiful sunny day at Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic

It was a beautiful sunny day at Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic.

After several days locked up due to the rains, the dark clouds had finally dispersed and the lamias could go out and enjoy the sun. And enjoy they would.

The Kings had already gone out with some Papythons to check the back garden and see how the plants had fared and the possible care they would have to give to the flower beds.

The Pygmys left next. They spread out quickly, happy to have more space for their zooms. In a short time they entered a friendly competition to see who could go faster and dodge the largest number of remaining pools of water (needless to say that in their excitement many forgot that they should dodge and soon it was confusing even for them if the competition was for deflect or pass through as many puddles as possible).

Even Edgar had taken advantage and taken the current clutcher for some fresh air. He set up a small children's pool with Waffle's help and watched with affection the young Kraits gliding in the few inches of water inside.

The day was heating up fast, so he didn't care about the gentle breeze blowing, but even if the heat of the sun wasn't enough, the Kraits' counterpart, a group of FireRing puppies (all huddled safely in the older skeleton, and away from spatter caused by his brothers) they pleasantly warmed the air (a little uncomfortable for the feathered skeleton that carried them, but what was a little discomfort to see the happy faces and hear the chirps of the babes?) and protect the lamias more delicate.

His son Quetzl, a rare winged Papython hybrid, is happily strolling through the garden, avoiding the puddles and wandering Pygmys, happy to just be outdoors and be able to spread his wings after the last few days confined.

But not all lamias were enjoying their “new freedom” from the prison of bad weather outdoors. Some preferred to stay inside, enjoying the sun from a drier and more comfortable place.

This was the case with the Mambas who had gathered in front of one of the store's large front windows, dragging soft cushions and positioning themselves in them as a particularly expensive display of jewelry. They enjoyed the sun safely, away from possible puddles of cold water or mud (the mud could be beneficial to the skin they had read, but after a bad experience with worms trapped in rib cages, they all agreed that it was better to try the muds the type that came in cosmetic pots and not the natural one found in gardens).

They took turns in positions that were not always practical, but that always captured the sun's rays perfectly to make their well-polished scales shine.

In the other window a large barbecue grill had been set up and a full size Papython with an apron and a chef's hat turned over, with the help of a silicone spatula, several Cornys that slept on the grill. Below them, at the bottom of the grill, a group of miniature FireRings rested, enjoying the sun without worrying about the dangers of water splashing by Pygmys aimlessly and giving the illusion that the barbecue grill was really burning (that in a way, it really was).

The fact that they were being heated, both above by the sun, and below by the fire lamias (which perfectly regulated their temperature so as not to burn or overwhelm their friends above or themselves), made the blue noodles purr with satisfaction (more than one with a noise very similar to hot fat sizzling on the coals).

Above them, in a corner of the window, someone had attached a poster that could be read outside the store:

“Hot Corny free!”

"Adopt before they pop!"

Surrounded by drawings of smiling blue corncobs.

The ad should be working because one of the small noodles had already found an owner (who had received it nestled in a hot dog bun and a pun: "Sorry kid, but there is no more spice for extra accompaniments").

The skelepuppers, Honey and Poff had also left early, accompanying a small group of Corals who were going to explore the garden to see if there was anything interesting brought by the winds, or dug up by the rain, to be added to their treasures.

The Corals, of course, made it clear that THEY were accompanying the young to supervise them on their adventures (and if they secretly expected some praise and pats as rewards for their work, nobody really needed to know).

The puppies spent a few hours exploring the garden with the other bittys and after a while they rushed in to offer Vex a beautiful flower each, who would have been even happier with the presents had the pups not left a trail of muddy paws behind .

While Waffle took two squirming puppies for a bath, Vex cleaned up the dirt left by them. The Kraits were subsequently summoned and with their abilitys they set up a kind of cleaning station, almost a jetty for bittys, at the entrance for when the other residents decided to go back inside (Of course, those who used it most ended up being the Kraits themselves who could not resist an experience with water and bubbles. They said it was all a quality test, but they didn't even cheat the baby Butter).

Belle and her gang had also left and with mud war paintings and flower “helmets” they had ambushed one of the flowerbeds, leaping over a full-sized King who had inflated his hood of true fright at first, but soon entered a the kidding and let himself be “captured” by the smaller lamias.

Upon hearing the commotion some Chains had appeared worried and now watched amused the dramatic King lying on the floor regretting his luck while Belle, the leader of the Commanders, stood on her ribcage and proclaimed her defense to the kingdom of weeds against the cruel giants that plucked them. Some other Kings looked somewhat divided between laughter and concern (of being the next targets).

Lieutenant Cherry, Belle's right-hand man, watched everything from a strategic point on a fence that bordered a flower bed, gave the alert of enemy attack when a group of Pygmys came together and charged against Belle's troops in defense of the giant friend (who was beginning to realize that him would probably be lying on the floor for some time).

Soon there were mud and small, harmless bone attacks flying through the garden while the two “armies” clashed under the watchful eyes of the rest of the “gardeners” and the fans composed of the Chains, the babys (that Edgar had to control so they could just watch and not run to play. Although the attacks are harmless he didn’t want to risk any of them being run over by some more distracted adult) and the Corals who stopped looking for treasure and started watching with interest, offering some not so innocent advice and incentives (quickly silenced by a fierce look from Edgar who did not need impressionable young people to learn such language).

As the garden turned into a small war field, the Honeys Bo finally woke up and emerged from their warm nests to discover that the dark clouds were gone. They looked a little cross-eyed at the bright sky and the floating white clouds and with smiles of satisfaction packed their things and went to the front of the store, spreading out in the entrance with their mp3's. Soon they were dozing again, lulled by the lazy movement of the clouds and their soundtracks of choice.

Chains had spread throughout the store and beyond. Some had gone out and scanned the surroundings (to see if there were any bitty nearby who had had a problem with the rains and maybe slip in their soul bonds, who knows?), or around the house to check if there was any damage. These were later attracted to the Commanders' war cries and now watched the battle with amusement.

Some of those who went to look around the neighborhood came back a while later, alone or accompanied by some Chain that had not been able to reach the store before because of the rain, or some Bitty who was injured or had his nest/den damaged by bad weather and were temporarily homeless (and at least one dragging an adopter to sign the adoption papers while his soul shone with the new bond).

Those who stayed in the store spread out to help the other lamias or Vex herself by temporarily taking over the reception while it cleaned up the mess of messy, but good-hearted, puppies. They even guiding one or another adopter or visitor through the store (and more from one to the bathroom to clean up when they decided to take a look at the back garden and was hit by a stray mud missile).

A group joined the Honeys Bo at the front, hoping to feel their soul's call by a passerby and at least three thanked Vex and other lamias and left the store shelter to begin or resume their travels in search of their Soulbonds.

Vex, after cleaning the dirt and arranging a small vase for the two flowers given as a gift, went to check on Waflle with the puppies, leaving the reception with a Chain that was talking to a visitor and inviting him to take a look at the Mambas (almost like a salesman persuading a customer to take a look at a pair of diamond earrings from an exclusive line).

She went to look at the bathroom, but didn't find them there. Passing the kitchen she heard a commotion and decided to take a peek inside.

The skelepuppers were sitting at the end of a table, each equipped with a wooden spoon that they scraped in a large bowl between them. Baby Butter was further back with his own wooden spoon and his face and little hands all soiled with the contents of the bowl.

Waffle watched them fondly and with a little frustration. He had just bathed the two puppies (a task not so easy) and although the two managed to keep the dirt restricted to the face (nothing that a damp cloth would not solve) the same could not be said of his son who had smeared himself whole. Apparently today would be his day to bathe messy puppies.

Syrup was in its place at the top of Waffle's skull, and although, from time to time he turned and looked at his son with pure love, he was more focused on the rest of the kitchen leaving the watchman / baba service to his companion.

The Mamba watched the Papythons prepare the meals of the day, giving occasional orders and handing out tasks like a tiny Gordon Ramsay (but without the name-calling).

He had taken refuge in the kitchen with Butter early, the promise of treats being the best tactic to keep a child well-behaved and indoors (Butter was a very good puppy, but still a puppy and a much bigger one than Syrup, which sometimes made it a little difficult to control. Nothing that an incredible Mamba and an even better father couldn’t handle. But even Syrup had to admit that preventing a child, no matter how well behaved, and who had passed the last few days trapped between four walls, do not run outside and immediately throw yourself into puddles, it was a big challenge to be done without some dirty/sweet tactics).

But as soon as he entered the kitchen, and saw the larger lamias at work, he couldn't help but notice that the Papythons (even though they were very hardworking and competent in their jobs) urgently needed some help. And who would be better to help them than he, a wonderful and super competent Mamba? So he started to command them.

The Papythons were astonished with gratitude (in other words they had no idea how to deal with the little bossy snake and its smiling baby), staring at him paralyzed as he wandered around the kitchen inspecting and giving tips and orders (some half-senseless. They were not cooking no veal and it was certainly celery and not turnips) until the gigantic King appeared, with a grumpy puppy under each arm, and seeing the Papythons' desperate face (who absolutely did not want to be rude to someone who was obviously trying to help) came to the rescue.

Depositing the puppies on the table and helping his son to climb, he leaned over to pick up a bowl with leftover cake dough and whisper to one of the orange lamias that they just worked normally and when Mamba gave an order they just shouted “Yes Chef!". Straightening up, he took the bowl to the chicks and gave each one a spoon.

After that, things flowed like water. Syrup rose to the top of Waffle's skull and with a privileged view began to dictate more and more orders. The Papytons just shouted their agreement and continued to work normally (although some of the commands like: “Stir this soup more willingly!” and “Watch the egg point!” were really followed) little Mamba was swelling with pride when see everyone working so diligently under your command.

Waffle just delighted in the pleasure of his little love and the contentment of his son and puppies with his makeshift snack.

Vex watched in amusement for a few minutes. Syrup when he noticed Vex, shouted that the food would be ready in 5 minutes, while a Papython in the background made a movement with his hand indicating that it would take longer than the five minutes predicted by Mamba. She left them after that and went back to the reception, just in time to take a call about an old adopter wanting to pay a visit later and maybe get a new mate.

Before long, she would go to the back garden and give a "cease fire" when announcing lunch. The fighters would go through the car wash to get in and eat.

Edgar would collect the babys (letting the Kraits babies enter the car wash accompanied by adult Kraits. Not that they needed it, but it would be a good experience for the little ones to see what kinds of things they would be able to do, and more, as adults) and also would enter.

The Chains would enter, or the Papythons would take the lunches to them and the Honeys Bo and take the opportunity to have lunch under the sky, forming in a mixture of various warm and inviting shades of orangein front of the store.

The Mambas will take a break from their show and the Cornys... well they will continue to sleep, but they will still eat (somehow) their meals. Papython "cook" will remove the FireRings from the bottom of the grill and they will have lunch by the pool with the Kraits while these tell how their newest invention works.

Later on, there will be new visitors and potential adopters. The Corals will polish their new treasures and perhaps some will find their way, unconsciously, to the nest of some other lamia (and hopefully, the hands of some adopter).

When the afternoon progresses, and the weather gets a little cool, the Honeys Bo and the Chains will come in and seek the warmth of their nests or a companion for an afternoon nap. It may be that new Chains appear and others leave, being attracted by a mysterious and insistent pull on their souls.

The Pygmys will play with their hunting toys and may be able to convince some Mambas and even some Kings to join together (the Kings throwing the toys for the Pygmys to catch and the Mambas to attack).

The Commanders will gather in their nest, plotting new battle plans while Cherry takes inventory of their spoils of war (a toy mouse washed but still stained with mud, 2 snail shells, several helmets half shattered and already withering, a bag of seeds, some candy wrappers and several paper clips that they picked up on the way back to the nest).

The Cornys will return under the anti-poison refrigerator (or more precisely, they will be replaced by the helpful Papython who had taken them out that morning) where the Grillbitty (who had spent the day at the bottom of the kitchen oven, sleeping in perfect peace and quiet thanks to the comfortable and soothing noise from the oven flames. He loves his companions Corny, he really does, but even he needs a break from all the snoring, puns and fart pads every now and then and with everyone trapped in the same space for the past few days, he more that he needed some time alone and in silence) awaits you with his warm welcome.

Perhaps more at night, when the last visitor leaves and the store closes, Vex will go to the recreation room and put on a movie to watch. Honey and Poff will curl up on each side, while the Papythons distribute soft blankets and hot chocolate to the lamias who decide to join them.

Or maybe she reads a little while the wind is blowing outside. The Kings curled around her listening intently, their hoods vibrating softly to suppress the excitement with the story or the new word learned.

Edgar, with Quetzl wrapped around his neck, can bring the babies, who will sleep before the end of the story, but until then they will hear ecstatic and thirsty to absorb more about the world, real or imagined, contained in the pages.

Regardless of what she chooses, Waffle will sit with your baby in your arms and your love around and enjoy the peaceful night and the pure happiness of being with those she loves. He and Syrup will watch the baby Butter coo for colorful figures on TV or let out occasional “Mwah!” at strategic moments in history.

But this is later, for now Vex welcomes a new adopter, listening carefully to be able to help them find the best lamia companion possible.

It's just another day like so many others in the store. The sun is shining outside, birds are singing, flowers are blooming and bittys are up and having fun. On days like this, Vex is sure that many of his dear noodles will find a good home and a happy family, and even those who not (by choice or because it was not yet time), they will always have a safe place in the store and good friends to share.

A welcoming home and a loving family was what Vex's Lamia Bittybones Adoption Center and Clinic really was.

*

Comments, questions and criticisms are welcome and thank you for reading!

[renwritesstuff]

we are family

Day 4: we are family.

Describe or draw a familiar moment. Are they close, or estranged? Are they blood relatives, or family found with friends?

Two Traynors stared each other down, hands hovering over a small box. There were 5 empty shot glasses in a semicircle around them, flanking the pristine chess board between the pair.

Wiping her hands with a dish towel, Priya Suresh-Traynor pleaded with her family. “Dessert is almost ready, do you two have to do this now?”

“The fate of the galaxy depends on it, mum,” Samantha Traynor mumbled back, not breaking eye contact with her father.

“You heard the kid,” Geoffrey Traynor seconded with a lazy smile. “I need to know my little sprog‘s mind hasn’t gotten soft since she’s been away.”

“Soft?? Did you miss the part where I kicked Polgara T’Suza’s arse across the Citadel?”

“Vid or it didn’t happen.”

What are you, five??

...God, I wish I had a vid. Are there vids? I wonder if I can ask for one...

“I have a trophy proving it happened. And a witness.” Sam’s eyes flitted over to the witness in question, her gaze narrowing.

Commander Annelise Shepard held her glass of red wine in surrender. Her voice came out wet and shaky from her fresh sip. “She’s—” Shepard patted her chest from the cough. “—She’s correct. She electrocuted that asari good.” 

And got a shower as a prize.

That narrow challenge in her eyes switched to panic as Sam glanced back at her father, who was tsking in disapproval. “Neuro-feedback chess? ...Sammy. You didn’t.”

The Comms Specialist scowled. “I didn’t choose it, it was part of the tourney rules. Usually, yes, I have slightly more integrity.” Unless I really want to win, that is. “It was just a lark, father.”

“Well as long as it was on a lark you buried that smug asari, I guess you’re forgiven. ...still can’t top your Dad at 5-Shot Speed Chess though, I bet.” The older man blew on his knuckles theatrically and gave them a wiggle before resuming his position at the worn speed clock.

Oh, you’re on.

“Oh, you’re on.”

Priya gave an apologetic smile at Shepard, who had taken up perch at the kitchen counter partition. The bar seat next to her was empty, waiting for Sam to return from her tense game. The matriarch of the Traynor family was busy at the stove stirring the simmering pot of kheer on one burner while checking a boiling sugary syrup on another. The warm kitchen filled with the scent of Indian spices and jasmine rice bled over into the prefab living room area.

“I wish I could lie and say something like ‘they aren’t usually like this,’ but…” Priya shrugged and smiled fondly at her husband as the game began. The speed clock snapped with each hit as the older and younger Traynor dove into an intense exchange of pieces. “It’s actually a tradition when Sammy comes home.” She paused before clarifying. “A tradition since Sammy was proper drinking age, mind you.”

Annelise smiled and raised an eyebrow. “Is that right?”

Sighing, Priya tapped away her Omni-tool where a reverse countdown timer could be seen by Shepard. “I think it was One-Shot Speed Chess back then,” she admitted. “I swear we were a classy family at some point. ...I can’t recall when, precisely, but I assumed we had to have bumbled into it somewhere in the last 25 years.”

“I’m 26, mum,” Sam reminded loudly as she slapped the clock once more.

“We were definitely classy when you were one, sprog,” Priya snarked back. “I mean, you weren’t because you just ate and shat all day, but Geoffrey and I were newlyweds and still extremely classy.”

“Muuuuuuum!” 

Oh my God do we have to talk about me shitting my diaper in front of Shepard???

Annelise failed to hide a staccato of exhale-laughs behind her wine glass, amused by the exchange.

Oh my God why did we come here?

...Oh shit Dad almost had me there.

Oh shit are they doing this on purpose? Working together against me??

Betrayed by my own flesh and blood!

Sam had to do a few lazy blinks to push back the swimming in her head and vision. Those shots were creeping in fast aided by a full stomach of naan and saag paneer. But she resumed focus on the game at hand, giving the clock another slap as she nudged her white bishop in an offensive position.

“So, Comm—Annelise,” Priya fumbled slightly. “What are your parents like?”

Mum. Did you not watch any ANN profiles? 

Shepard’s sip of wine was casual, unruffled by the question. “Couldn’t tell you. Both gone. Mom when I was four from eezo poisoning, Dad when I was thirteen. Fire in our apartment building.”

What could have been a very awkward silence was instead filled with Priya’s empathetic tongue cluck (honed from years of practice as a registered nurse). “You poor thing. Too much life experience forced onto someone so young.” Her vigorous stirring motion never wavered. “Not to mention the life of a marine on top of all that. What a hand this universe deals us, hm?”

“Indeed,” Annelise agreed. She smiled sadly, her eyes inward as though weighing something. “This reminds me of the dinners I had with my brother and dad.”

Oh? Samantha’s head tilted so she could hear better. Her father was closing in on one corner of the board, but her queen sprang into a hole in his defenses.

“Oh?” Priya asked, echoing Sam’s own curiosity.

Nodding, Annelise rotating the now empty wine glass in her hand. “Dad wasn’t much for cooking, but John loved it. He loved grilling and barbecue. He’d usually save some of his courier paycheck for a good cut of meat at the store and try out different seasonings.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “I bet he would have loved your cooking.”

“I fear I know the answer, but where is ...John?” At Shepard’s nod, Priya continued. “Where is John now?”

Oh no.

Should have given your folks some notes, Traynor.

I didn’t think it was my tale to tell!

How are you this bad at relationships, Traynor??

“Also gone, right before Dad. Car accident.” Annelise chewed her cheek a moment. “You know, before the Skyllian Blitz, I thought I was pretty unlucky based on all that.”

“And now?”

“Well, everything’s kind of a shit show, so jury’s out on that.” Annelise looked over at Sam, who was getting louder and more erratic with her clock taps. “But lucky in other ways.”

“Oh good answer, love!” Priya crowed, snapping the towel in Annelise’s direction. “A for effort, superbly charming response.” Her Omni-tool started beeping, signaling the woman to pull the pot of rice milk off the burner and set it aside to cool before turning her attention to the syrup. “What were three favorite things your brother cooked?”

An exhale deep through Shepard’s nose as she held her chin in her hand. “Oh God, I haven’t thought about that in ages.” She nodded at Priya’s silent pantomime offer to refill her wine glass. “He loved ribeye steak. Kind of fatty for me, and too damn expensive, but… I dunno, I liked it because he liked it so much.”

Aw. Sam felt a pang of longing for Shepard. There was a fondness to the woman’s tone that didn’t come up often. 

How often does Commander Bloody Shepard have a moment to think about her family? Or talk about them?

We should work on that, Traynor.

Geoffrey piped up regarding one of his favorite subjects. “Good man! Good cut of beef. What temperature?” He pointed a finger at Annelise as though calling on a student in one of his classes.

“Medium rare.”

“Good man indeed,” Geoffrey agreed as he slapped the timer one more time. White and black sides pieces were dwindling as lines of attack thinned out.

“Let’s see, what else… He actually did a spiced mutton I really liked. Sometimes lamb. Both were dirt cheap for awhile in Seattle before the drought, so he made a lot of it.” Annelise smiled as she accepted a small round poor of kheer, a sprinkling of ground nuts on top. “Oh, and his ribs were to die for. John had this dry rub mixture he spent months tinkering with. Took damn near eight hours to cook, but worth it.”

Geoffrey exchanged a look with his wife before cutting back to the game. Priya nodded.“Oh we love lamb in this house. One of the many reasons we applied for colony life. No more ration stamps from those artificial trade wars with the Volus, and all our farming sustainable and available direct to the colony first.” Priya fired up her Omni-tool. “I have a lot of great lamb recipes if you’re—goodness! I haven’t asked how your cooking chops fare?”

Nudging a pawn over to take Sam’s knight, Geoffrey jibed. “A loaded question, dear. We all know our Sammy is completely dependent on Alliance-provided cafeteria food. How she survived four years at Oxford is a complete mystery. She should have either ended up three hundred pounds from eating rubbish or died of scurvy.”

Hey!

“You talk a lot of shit, old man, for someone who just got checked. And it’s called a dormitory meal plan, I’ll have you know. I had three square meals.”

I just probably didn’t drink water the entire time. All booze or energy drinks.

“Of cafeteria food, further proving my point. Also, check.”

Ugh. Also, what?

That exhale-laugh from Annelise almost pulled Sam away from her last ditch strategy. The Commander extended her own Omni-tool. “I’d love the help. While I can survive on a remote moon with just a knife and a canteen, I don’t prefer to. I did undercover work for a year after graduating N7, so we had to learn how to be human again. Cooking included. Some of it even some fancy five course meals meant to impress targets.”

“So you know where all the forks go and what they do?” Samantha asked, slapping the timer. “Check.”

“I definitely do.” Those green eyes glittered with mirth.

“Oooh, be still my heart.” Sam shot a finger-gun at her girlfriend.

Priya made some flicking motions with her fingers before an answering ping from Shepard’s wrist. “Well, here are some of Sammy’s favorites. Someone should have them, since the pride of my life can’t make toast.” 

“Hey!”

“I also made note of some of the ones with Sammy’s allergies.”

Annelise flicked through the holo screen, studying the recipes. “Curry, shellfish, and peanuts, right?”

You forgot public speaking and losing at chess to my father.

Sam’s mother clutched her heart theatrically. “You know! Oh Geoffrey, did you hear? Sammy trusted her with shellfish, darling!” Priya poured a ladle full of the syrup over a small pyramid of large cake-like balls that had been chilling in a dish. She brought the dish over to the pair of competitors whose game was nearing completion.

“Check! And I did, love! It seems our Samantha is serious about this one! ...or her commanding officer looked at her file.” He grinned at his daughter before reaching for one of the gulab jamun.

Scowling, Sam slapped his hand away from the bowl before slapping the speed clock again. She could feel a heat rising in her neck and jaw (hopefully it was just the alcohol). “No dessert til we finish the game! And check!” 

After a tentative bite, Annelise dug into the bowl of sweet kheer with enthusiasm. “I mean, you’re not wrong, sir. But I had the decency to act surprised when she finally told me. How was that again, Samantha?” 

Oh sonabitch.

“When we went out on a date in public for the first time and I stole a bite of your lobster roll and my throat closed and we had to go to the med center.”

Both of her parents barked her name at the same time. “Samantha Karuna Traynor!” Her father added, “You always were a sucker for lobster despite never learning your lesson. And check.”

“It was worth it!” Sam squawked. “It was delicious! Also: check mate!” The pawn she’d been nudging forward that her father ignored got promoted to a rook and was now perfectly positioned to box in his king. 

Geoffrey stared at the change of fortune, dismayed and swaying a little in his chair. The shots were clearly taking hold. He tipped his king over in surrender, bowed his head at his daughter, and grabbed the topmost gulab jamun. 

Samantha joined him with a second ball, the syrup coating dripping slightly. They raised their desserts in salute before taking a big bite.

Mouth full, Sam grinned up at Shepard who was standing next to her chair. “I had you there to rescue me, darling. I knew I’d be all right.”

“I hope that’s always the case,” Annelise smiled back as she kissed Sam’s forehead. 

Before she slowly dropped down to one knee.

[marvel-lous-things]

Promises

AN: reposting because tungle.hell is a little bitch that messed up the read more link on this and doesn’t deserve rights.

Words: 

Relationships: Family fluff, Pepperony, mentions of Peter’s crush on Harley

Prompt: “Every month everyone has a get together at the pepperony cabin and they have dinner together. Happy grills cheeseburgers for the kids (Morgan, Clint’s boys, Peter, Lila, Cassie, Harley) and they play outside until it gets dark, the older kids giving the younger ones piggy back rides and everyone eating juice pops. Steve is inside, bantering with Bucky and Sam, like the old times. Pepper wishes Tony would be here to see it all.”

—-

It was tradition, at this point, for everyone to meet up in Pepper’s old cabin (she had since moved to New York) on the first Sunday of each month. 

It had begun with a miscommunication. Steve had texted Bruce that he’d be visiting Pepper to check on her and Morgan, on that fateful day a little over a year ago. Somehow, Bruce had interpreted that as “Gather the whole gang, we’re gonna collectively show up at Pepper’s cabin with 35 assorted presents.”

It was a little odd the first time round, what with Bruce apologizing profusely for goofing up, and the cabin being too small to hold everyone while also allowing them some personal space. But she’d decided she liked having them all around. Might as well do it again.

14 months and 14 barbecue meet ups later, everyone looked forward to driving out there for a nice evening of grilled food and banter. And the occasional explosion. To be fair, when you throw two brilliant, reckless, science-loving teenagers and an equally brilliant, reckless, science-loving little girl together, explosions can (and will) occur.

Which is why Happy was very loudly arguing with Harley over using his “new and improved” grill rather than the usual one from Happy’s garage, which was decidedly safer and less daunting to use. To top it off, the damn thing was shaped like a nuke.

Elsewhere, the younger kids were having their own argument, except theirs had a little less to do with barbecue grills.

“Morgan,” Pepper called out, noticing the commotion, “it’s Cooper’s turn now, sweetheart.”

 “But mom-”

“Give it to him.”

“Just a minute!”

“Morgan.”

The 6 year old turned around, gave her mom the most heart-achingly adorable pout, and begrudgingly handed her brand new nerf gun to the older boy (a very well received gift from May). They’d been going at it all evening, shooting empty soda cans off rocks, tree branches, and at one point, Peter’s head.

Steve smiled, watching Barton’s kid shoot a can off Harley’s bike from 10 meters away. And then immediately panicking after realizing the can was actually full. And probably belonged to Harley.

“Kid’s good with a gun, Clint,” Steve noted.

“Scared he won’t take after his dad?”

The glare he received from the arrow enthusiast was borderline terrifying.

“We’ve just got killer aim, Rogers, it ain’t about the weapon. Hand me a gun, stand across the lake, and I’ll show you.”

Pepper laughed, throwing Clint a grape flavored juice pop (his favorite kind). 

“Nobody’s murdering anybody in my house, alright?”

Just before Clint could catch his dessert, though, a web shot out from behind the couch and snatched the sugar infused stick of ice right out of mid air. The web then proceeded to disappear as quickly as it came.

“Well, actually, Pepper,” said a youthful voice, no doubt belonging to the pop thief, 

“the murder would happen outside the house, so technically-”

“Peter Benjamin Parker, you give that back right now or you’re grounded for a month.”

Peter winced. Busted.

“He can get himself another one, May!” He tried (in vain).

“There’s a whole freezer full of em right outside-”

“Peter.” 

May raised her eyebrow at him. Ah, there it was. The look of devastating disapproval. A look nobody could stand to receive, let alone Peter “I cried watching Big Hero 6″ Parker.

“Alright, alright.” He sighed, back flipping over the armrest; a completely extravagant and unnecessary move that was only carried out in case Harley was watching. Peter had been trying his absolute best to get Harley’s attention off late. He told May that it was because he wanted to prove that “he’s the alpha” (May thought her disaster of a son simply wanted to impress his crush. She was right).

20 lazy footsteps and an annoyed huff later, the juice pop was slid across the kitchen counter, right into Clint’s open hand. 

When it was, regrettably, immediately snatched away by Lila.

Clint blinked. “Can’t catch a damn break, can I?”

Laura laughed, planting a reassuring kiss on her husband’s cheek. She’d learned over the past year that Clint had turned to vigilante justice to deal with his feelings of anger and helplessness. She couldn’t have him hunting down members of the Ukrainian mafia over popsicles.

“Calm down, drama queen, I’m sure there’s more in the ice box-”

“WHO TOOK ALL THE DAMN GRAPE JUICE POPS?” Captain America yelled from outside. A sound that was immediately followed by a very ungraceful pterodactyl-like screech, and Clint putting his head in his hands.

“…or maybe not.” She winced.

That was the exact moment Bucky took to walk down the stairs. a sticky purple mess gracing his face. He stopped abruptly when he noticed everyone’s eyes were on him, and just this once, he was sure it wasn’t because they were admiring his beauty. 

His eyes darted around the room, making note of Clint’s deep resignation, Pepper’s terrible poker face, May’s grimace, and Steve nearly falling off his chair in sheer amusement.

He wasn’t fully sure how to proceed.

“Uh…”

He looked around the room again, hoping it would give him answers. 

It didn’t.

“…what’s up?”

Steve actually did fall over at this point, prompting Peter to scream something about senior citizen needing help, followed by Cassie dialing 911 on Morgan’s old toy telephone. Neither of which helped him make sense of what was going on. Although, he had to admit, it was a little funny.

Bucky’s question, however, was answered when Sam entered the kitchen with the force of a very disgruntled wildebeest. He looked around wildly, until his eyes fell on Bucky and his incredibly purple grin.

“You,” Sam glowered.

“Me,” Bucky replied sweetly, slowly wiping the purple dye off his mouth with his sleeve. Which, of course, only served to drive Sam further up the wall.

“YOU DON’T EVEN LIKE GRAPE!”

“True, true.” Bucky shrugged.

“I do love pissing you off, though.”

What followed after was Sam chasing Bucky out into the woods, brandishing his shield and yelling something about how “this shield ain’t only for defending, I’ll star spangle whoop your ass you dick, come back here.”

Clint followed a minute later, on a quest to avenge his stolen popsicle

(This was after they were pointedly told by Pepper to take their battle outside, they’d lost enough vases over the year to the kids’ antics as it were).

Steve eventually found the strength to get back on his chair, and throw an apple in Harley’s general direction. Which was warranted, because the kid kept yelling “I’ve fallen and I can’t get up” in this ridiculous (and frankly, offensive) “old man voice” while Steve did, in fact, struggle to get up.

He briefly wondered how pleased Tony would be to see Captain Perfect struggling with real, human issues, like achy joints and a sore back. Almost as if she’d read his mind, Pepper voiced his thoughts. 

“Tony would’ve loved to see you dealing with elderly-man problems, you know.” She laughed. “The number of times he’d complain that ‘Steve goddamn Rogers’ doesn’t suffer from a single grey hair even at the age of 100, while he did even though he was only 50.” 

She made air quotes around the “only.”

“Took a lot of convincing for him to let it grow out, you know, instead of hiding it behind dye after dye,” she rolled her eyes, “he looked at me like I’d told him to give Morgan up for adoption.”

Steve laughed softly. “A herculean effort, I��m sure.”

“Oh, you don’t know the half of it.”

Pepper remembered that conversation clear as day, like it had happened just days ago. Partly because she’d never had to convince someone who was once labelled “Sexiest Man Alive” by Times magazine that he would still be attractive with grey hair, until that strange, strange day, and partly because the method of convincing she’d opted for was… unusual, a little unexpected. But not unwelcome, for sure 

(He’d told her as much the next morning, wearing a stupidly lopsided grin, but no shirt)

Washing the dye off her fingers had been a pain in the ass though. She couldn’t believe he’d actually agreed to letting her color his hair grey. Morgan had shrieked seeing her daddy with “weird hair” (her words), which was not good for the case Pepper was making. But she had eventually warmed up to the new look. She even told Tony he looked nice, of her own accord. After which Pepper had walked in on Tony hugging his daughter and her struggling to get out of the death grip he had on her.

Pepper was snapped out of her reverie when Steve spoke up again.

“Who’s to say he isn’t seeing it, though?” 

Pepper blinked. She wasn’t one to space out often, but when she did, she was disturbingly thorough. 

“Sorry?”

“Tony, watching us,” Steve took a deep breath, “laughing at me struggling with weak hipbones, watching over you, Morgan, Peter…” He looked down at his mug of coffee, that had long since gone empty

“You never know.”

Pepper couldn’t quite place the look on his face just then. Somewhere between sad and hopeful, she supposed.

“You never know,” she repeated under her breath, more to herself than to him.

Steve heard it anyway, and smiled softly at her, before turning to look at the picture Pepper had framed on the living room wall. A picture of her, Tony, and Morgan, taken at the beach. Morgan was on his shoulders, maybe 3, 4 years old then. His right arm was wrapped around Pepper’s shoulder, her left arm around his waist. All three wore contented smiles, Tony’s and Morgan’s achingly similar.

No Iron Man, no arc reactor, no intense, murderous stare, like the hundreds of pictures that had graced every magazine in existence, for a month after his death.

Just plain, good old Tony Stark. The part of him he kept hidden from the world, reserved only for the people he loved.

It was the only picture that did him justice, Steve thought.

“I wish he could see you now, Pepper,” he turned back to her, half his mouth upturned in a small smile, “see how well his two favorite girls are doing.”

Pepper chuckled, gently placing her hand on Steve’s. 

“Oh, he knows,” she nodded, twirling the ring that still adorned her finger.

“I promised him we’d be fine.”

xxxxx

my adhd ass jumping from prompt to prompt: parkour

anyway, thanks for reading

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

OT3FIC: American Eskimo Dog

28 -  summer pineapple delude quirky astound greasy moonlight bait

The dogs had had the most excitable day and were all laid about, panting heavily and relaxing after all the excitement across the dry grass of the backyard under the dappled shade of the tree above on the hot summer evening. Will felt an innate wish to be just like them and lay out there as dusk started and the group surrounding the barbecue and smoker drank their beers, and those flitting about the outdoor table put the final place settings and salads out. It had been almost as exhausting keeping up with the conversation of the last two hours as the constant running and spinning the dogs had done.

It wasn’t like any Fourth of July that the empath had ever participated in recently.  Usually he spent the day doing work around the property, maybe a trip to the only open takeaway for Chinese food and trying not to let the dogs go too crazy at the fireworks on the other side of the forest. This year though, Will had found himself surrounded by some of the FBI’s most wanted as well as some others that would have been beyond his belief if someone had told him before he met the blonde that they existed.  It wasn’t even like any of the strange ‘holidays’ that had cropped up in his life.

Since Jo and Grey had moved in, Will’s concept of what constituted a family event had changed and broadened significantly.

Will now found that there were days called Death Days which called for celebration - or rather copious amounts of alcohol and tight hugs that he had thus far managed to avoid being a part of. There were three of them still living that celebrated these - Jo’s usually involving a visit from the brother’s and grumpy surrogate dad; Dean’s was usually one where Jo would be from home and not back for a few days where she would practically fold in on herself in tears in the threshold upon getting home; Sam’s seemingly was a little more joyous an occasion where the tall hunter and his brother would bring fireworks and dubbed it more affectionately Apocalypse Aversion Day (though Will had learned through a hushed conversation with the blonde while she was very intoxicated that this was his second Death Day date but none of them wanted to ever think about the original one and the wheels that put in motion) - and then there were the ones in memoriam. There was one for Jo’s father but that was always her own private day where Will would be lucky to see her at all before sunset, and then it would be straight to bed with warm arms circling her. There was another for a man called John, who so far as Will could tell was the overbearing and controlling, estranged father for the other two hunters, but Jo seemed to spend those talking to the boys on the phone and lighting a pyre in the field for some reason or other. He’d learned there was a date for the older hunter’s wife too, where Jo would visit for a week and come home exhausted and needing sleep more than others.

There were happier seeming occasions and more normal holidays as well like Christmas (which always had a funny story about pagans and an evil witch), and birthday’s. But there was also more obscure ones - like how Jo would go to New Orleans every year for Mardi Gras and only ever explained the rationale as “I’ve got a friend I need to keep honest on the tips. And maybe a patron to see”; and a date that Will had dubbed Monster Day in his mind which always had Grey’s siblings suddenly inundating the farm, or at least the ones in bodies which was still strange to wrap his head around, and Jo scurrying out to the forest away from them after a warm greeting. There was Samhain not Halloween, there was other pagan-based reflections that Jo claimed it was “just smart” to stay in favor of, and there was a date Grey called Love Day not long before Valentine’s Day itself where he would suddenly lavish Jo with gifts. There was also another Love Day which was much the same but to himself, and Will still blushed every time when he realized it was the anniversary of their first time and just how much effort Grey put into being a calm and nurturing presence around him that day.

But that they were doing something particularly normal, particularly average and particularly mundane like Fourth of July was more unusual than normal in the grand scheme of things.

“Comin’ through!” The loud call came from the back door as Will turned his head to the noise to spout Jo spinning about blindly with an entire crate of beers held in her arms with another case on top blocking her face from her path as two of the shadows quickly disperses from her path between the door and the cooler.

“Jo, you shouldn’t-” “I was a freakin’ bartender for longer than you’ve been topside. I can handle some beers.” “Really Cupcake, that’s uncalled for.” “Oh whatever, out of m’ way!”

Will watched in amusement from against the oak’s trunk as Jo bouldered her way across the grass and sat the cartons down as the quirky strangest of the shadow’s ran over to help her unload them and begin filling the coolers. Shada who had objected to the idea of so much manual labor sniffed and turned back to setting out flower vases, candles, salad bowls and other elements along the long picnic table with the tall blonde shadow-girl following her pointed demands with a constant bobbing of her head. The fourth shadow, the dark haired one who always seemed up to causing trouble rolled his eyes watching his siblings and the blonde huntress before turning his attention back to the slightly taller, gangly looking hunter that had been nursing a single beer for four hours and counting but was somehow still wobbling on his feet.

He’d not thought much other than embarrassment upon meeting the eldest of the siblings - or who he perceived to be such, Grey had once tried to explain the concept of age against terminology but it had been a struggle and he had been much more interested in him using his mouth for something other than the explanation at the time - when she appeared during one of their chore days, but since then Shada had grown on him. Especially when he realized that the shadow was just as fiercely protective of her brother as he himself was. The tall blonde - Ombre - had been the next one he’d met, and while she’d been sweet and quiet and demure, Will couldn’t help but think she was trouble waiting to happen one day, like a young child not yet learning to throw her temper tantrums in the terrible twos. Mail had been next, though he’d been accompanied at the time by the fourth one who still hadn’t quite decided or settled on a name for himself (cycling through generic names including the awkward visit he demanded to be called Consuela Banana Hammock), and Will had found both brother’s almost as equally strange in their own ways as one another. Mail’s inability to sit correctly was almost as weird as the way the other would delude himself into thinking he had struck on gold in a conversation when he just made everything odd.

“Did you need anything else for the barbecue?” Grey called out from the back door towards the group of hunters around the charcoal grill, his head poking out from the back door before he started his own passage towards the dining table with yet another salad for the meal. “More tongs or-”

“Don’t worry, we’ve got it Grey.” “More beers would be good though-” “Dean, Jo just brought out more, get one yourself you lazy asshole.” “Bitch.”

“You idjits better shut up and get me a new beer by the time you’re done arguing.” Bobby’s voice cut over whatever Sam might have said in response along with the metal ting of the tongs against the edge of the grill as he growled back at them. There was a laugh from the table and near the drinks as the two girls, closest and strangely good friends from what Will had learned, so different but so similar laughed in response to the hunter’s grumpiness as Dean kicked at the dried clumps of grass under foot.

Looking over at the trio of hunters to that side, joined quickly by the fourth male hunter at the gathering as the shadow currently going by Ben Dover for the day moved towards annoying one of his siblings and Garth Fitzgerald IV moved to the rest of his own group; Will knew that if Jack had any inkling of who was currently flipping steaks, burgers and smoking a pork butt at his house, it would be the most tempting bait to drive the FBI director towards madness.

Of the four hunters, Will had found himself connecting far more to the older hunter than either of the three closer to his own age. A man living alone a large plot of land far away from town, who preferred the company of his canine companion and the solitude of providing for ones self, was definitely someone that Will could always get along with. The gangly hunter, that Jo and Grey alike swore was a werewolf, was probably his second favorite of Jo’s little side to the family - though he had freaked Will out on their first meeting by pulling him into an exceptionally tight hug; the fact that upon releasing Will, Garth had looked shocked, asked if he was a “touch aversion type” and apologized profusely before never doing the same despite the generous bear hugs Jo and Grey alike would get upon greeting had made a soft spot in the agent’s heart for him. Sam and Dean fell somewhere together, inseparable really the same way they were in all ways that Will had seen, but the more he saw the pair and also saw them around Jo and Grey, the more he liked the pair. Dean was gruff and politically incorrect to Sam’s quiet and sass, and Will had been astounded to realize that he appreciated the both for what they had to offer.

“Alright alright, this lot is done, someone get me the fuckin’ fruit.” “Right here, Bobby!” “Well then bring it over, ya brat, I can’t cook it from over there!”

Will shook his head a little, watching as the older hunter piled one of the foil trays that Grey had brought out high with beef and chicken and even some fish burger patties before the shadow covered the tray with more tin foil and moved it towards the table while Bobby scraped off the surface. They moved in tandem that pair, as if synchronized dancers even though Will knew it was more an innate knowledge of cooking that they shared more than experience or practice.

“Girlie, where-” “Here, you old grump!” “ ‘Bout time.”

The blonde hunter had bounded over after a small amount of rummaging with a few air-tight containers at Bobby’s insistence, setting the containers down before hurrying back towards the table to help guide Mail into the correct way to set out cutlery. Will could tell the second that the first slice went down that it was that glorious sticky, spicy pineapple slices recipe that Grey had been developing and that made Will’s mouth tingle with a mix of the acid of the fruit itself, the slight heat of the spice and the natural sweetness as well as the slight crunch of the demerera sugar included that formed the best crystals of crunchy caramel when they were cooked just right. There were also fresh peaches cut and quartered that he knew were for Jo’s favorite salad and that if Hannibal was there he would have had to concede the grilled peach, mozzarella and prosciutto salad worked fantastically well on a balmy summer’s evening like this when the sun was just crossing the horizon and would finally give way to the night. He even figured there might be some watermelon for the feta and rocket salad he’d suggested they try the next time that Shada was visiting from what one of the spectacularly boring looking salads on the table looked like.

“I’ve got to say, the amount of salad is great this year, Jo.” “Oh yes, Sam, Cupcake definitely made the right choices this year!” “I’m excited to try some of them-” “Of course you are, Ombre. At least there’s no Ambrosia salad-” “What salad?!” “It’s bits of canned fruit! In marshmallow!” “Ewwwww!”

The cries from the two female shadows, their voices loud and high pitched in their disgust perking the ears of the dogs that lay about tired and nearby, curiously cocking toward the noise before all of them besides Zoe decided it wasn’t worth investigating. The small dog snuffed her way around, giving a wide berth to the shadows but looking at them curiously until she was picked up in the loving hold of the werewolf with a scratch under her chin as the group of hunter’s shook their heads at the girls’ antics.

Will found himself shaking his head with the same bemusement as he watched the pair go back and forth over why that “isn’t a salad” or “isn’t food” and then further onto the real question of “why is human food so weird sometimes” which he thought was a valid question, as the eldest hunter began to slowly take the remaining steaks and sausages, chicken strips and the vegetarian options off of the grill into respective foil packages that Sam, Dean or Grey would ferry to the dining table while Jo wrangled the lid of the smoker off with the help of Garth to pull the pork butt out; as if the greasy and somewhat unhealthy but altogether delicious meats might prove the girls’ perceptions wrong without much trouble.

“You know, this is a very old tree.” “Yes it is.” “It had deep roots.” “Yep.” “You will weather any storm with roots this deep.”

The empath wasn’t even surprise to hear the gravelly voice beside himself all of a sudden. The final member of their party for the night was always a late comer according to his best friend; and that the angel had popped in from his busy schedule to simply enjoy a barbecue with friends was touching enough. That, as Will turned slightly to look out the corner of his eye, he could see the angel staring at him in return rather than the knotted roots of the tree they were metaphorically discussing was even more touching. Of all the family, he’d been the one Will automatically connected too even more than Bobby - and giving a small smile, the empath waved a hand towards the table as the moonlight started to rise to shine over them all.

“Ready for some dinner, Cas?” “Thank you for the invitation, Will. You and yours are very accommodating.” “We try to be.”

“It is very good. You are all very good, and you should feel blessed.” Cas’ voice was somewhat tighter than usual and as Will patted a hand on the surprisingly small shoulder under his grip, the other nodded in agreement looking out as their dogs dozed, and both sides of his favorite people’s families merged and mingled together in a mass of smiles and laughter, Will knew that the words were entirely true. It was very good, they were all very good and he sure as heck felt blessed as he caught the eye of his love’s and the way their smiles both widened for him.

[welcometophu]

Into the Split: Reconstruction 3

Twinned Book 3: Into the Split

Reconstruction 3

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For a little while, it’s fun just to be alive.

Nikita and Heather show up mid-morning on Saturday, ringing the doorbell of Pawel’s house, then knocking for good measure. Seth answers because with only sweats on, he’s more dressed than Nikolai, who has to drag on a pair of jeans in order to leave the bedroom. Nikolai makes it to the stairs just as Nikita and Heather are coming inside.

Seth scratches at the hair on his chest. “We were asleep,” he says.

“Dozing,” Nikolai corrects. They’d gotten up earlier, had some breakfast, then climbed back into bed to lie down. It seems decadent to lie around and do nothing, but he’s also sure that eventually they won’t have this luxury and he wants to enjoy it while he can. “Pawel is actually still asleep.”

“Was,” Pawel calls out through his door. “Waking up now. Who’s here?”

“We’ve come to take Nikolai and Seth to the barbecue,” Heather calls out. “OPT and SigPsiE are hosting the barbecue part of today’s lawn party, so we’re going to be grilling and eating from now until after sundown. Phoenix Rising has a set as part of the live music during the afternoon, and we just thought it’d be fun.”

“This is the big spring weekend here at PHU, and I’m really excited that we get to enjoy it without the end of the world hanging over our head.” Nikita mimes something dropping down on her own head. “You’ll love it. Just be ready for some crowds. This makes the sugaring festival look like there was no one really there.”

Heather makes a shooing motion with her hands. “Go. Get ready. Let’s get out of here so Pawel can spend his day catching up on the grading he hasn’t made his TAs do. Or maybe meet with his TAs so he can figure out how to finish up his classes.”

“I heard that.” Pawel makes his way past Nikolai down the stairs. “She’s right, though. Go have fun today. I have work to do, and you deserve to have a little fun.” His hair sticks up in different directions all over, like he did just wake up, but his skin has more color than Nikolai has seen in a while, and the bags under his eyes are less pronounced. “I promise I will eat and take care of myself today if you leave me here on my own.”

Heather shoos them again. “Go,” she says. “Get dressed. Come on.”

It doesn’t take long before they’re on their way to campus. The music is audible even from a few blocks from campus, where Pawel lives, and gets louder the closer they get. The band playing as they walk has a heavy fiddle component, and strong drums.

Nikita and Heather walk hand in hand. As Nikita starts swinging their joined hands to the lively beat, Heather laughs and lifts her hand, twirling Nikita while they walk. Nikita swings back towards Heather, captures her and skips down the sidewalk, dancing along.

They wait at the corner, laughing.

Nikolai feels it in his heart, this light, airy sensation of being free.

It’s weird.

Seth catches his hand, twines their fingers together. “I could live here, if I had to,” he says softly.

The sky overhead is blue, and the air is warm enough to be out in just a t-shirt and jeans. Nikolai’s hair blows in his face, a little longer than it should be. He huffs to blow it away, then reaches up and threads his fingers through it, pushing it back.

“Want a ponytail holder?” Nikita stops dancing along beside them in order to offer a purple band held between pinched fingertips. She motions, and Nikolai turns so that he can pull his hair back into a twist at the back of his neck. Some of his bangs aren’t quite long enough and fall forward as he tilts his head. She pats the back of his shoulders. “Everyone’s going to love that bun.”

Seth leans close. “You know how you like it when my hair gets long, even though I hate the curls?” he asks quietly. When Nikolai nods, Seth grins. “I like the idea that I can play with your hair like this. It looks good on you.”

Maybe he won’t cut it right away.

Nikolai sees what Nikita meant about the crowds. Long before they reach the Quad where the stage and barbecue are, Nikolai sees people everywhere. It’s as if the entire population of the campus, plus more, is out on the various benches and spots of grass. People lie out on blankets, bathing in the warmth of the spring sun. It’s lazy and loud and absolutely different from anything he’s used to. He’s seen the students out in the warmth before, but not like this. Not with this buzz of celebration around them.

“They’re all so happy,” Seth says.

There’s a flush to Heather’s cheeks. “They always are this week,” she says, a spring in her step as she pulls Nikita forward. “They don’t even know what happened. This is just when we celebrate that spring is finally warming up, and finals are almost here. It’s a weekend to just let cares fall away and relax. It feels so, so good.”

Nikolai has a feeling that Heather might be high on leaked emotions. He suspects that Heather has a small problem with needing the feel of positive emotion, especially after conversations he’s had with her friends, but he can see the way it effects her. She’s light and excited in ways he hasn’t seen before. It’s obviously good for her.

The music ends and the singer talks to the audience. Nikolai can’t hear everything, but he thinks it’s a farewell and thank you and that the next band is coming up. The name of the band is swallowed by the roar of voices responding, and Nikita gives a small shout.

“Rory’s up,” she says. The only thing to do is hurry with her as she rushes through the crowds, heading between buildings.

The brick path opens up into an empty space ringed by at least eight buildings. The Quad consists of several grassy stretches, partly up a hill, split by walkways going every which direction. A stage has been built in front of one building that runs along half of one side of the Quad, and as musicians carry instruments off, Nikolai recognizes some of the people waiting to carry their own gear up.

“Rory!” Nikita yells out, and he turns, raising a hand in their direction with a confused expression. The expression eases when Nikita waves wildly, and he smiles and waves back.

Once the other band has cleared the stage, Alaric and Chris help carry up a drum kit, placing it according to Stormy’s directions. She’s barefoot, wearing only shorts and a tank top that doesn’t hide the sports bra under it. Nikolai thinks she should be cold, but she seems comfortable as she orders them around arranging things the way she likes. She pulls up a stool and settles in, running a little riff with her drumsticks while the others finish up.

Kit sits on one back corner of the stage with a woman Nikolai doesn’t recognize. There’s another man on stage as well, tuning his instrument with Rory and Thorne before Thorne breaks away to adjust mic stands: one down to his own height, one higher for Rory.

“I’m hungry,” Heather says. “We should eat while we listen, because we’re going to be working after this.”

As they head over to the grills, Thorne’s voice rings out. “Hey, PHU! I know you already know half of us, but we’re Phoenix Rising, and we’re really glad to be here today. Rory and I are a captive audience of course—” He cuts off as the crowd yells out Hi Thorne! He pauses long enough to blow kisses. “Thanks, guys. We’ve also got the rest of our band here with us today. Andy,” he points to the guy at the back, who raises one hand, “and Stormy.” She runs a long riff that settles into a low rolling beat in the background as Thorne speaks.

“We’ve only got a half hour, so I’m going to stop talking—” Again he cuts off as the crowd yells. Behind him, the band shifts into the intro of something that sounds quick and rambunctious, and Thorne backs up, raising one hand as he yells out, “Let’s make some noise!”

Nikolai doesn’t know the music, and it’s not quite drowned out by the crowd singing along with Thorne, but he gets the idea of it. It’s loud and fun and the beat gets under his skin. He doesn’t know it, but he likes it.

He eats while Heather and Seth talk, trading Empathic and Dreamwalker tips in too-loud voices, shouting over the music to hear each other. Nikita gives Nikolai a small, fond smile, and he nods, agreeing. They can’t help but love them when they’re intense like this, earnest about their abilities and protective of their other halves.

“Here.” Nikita takes away the empty plate from Nikolai’s hand, and gives him another laden with potato salad, hot corn on the cob with a stick shoved into it, and a sausage also on a stick. A fork sticks straight up from the potatoes, and he starts with that, while steam rises from the others which are fresh from the grill.

It’s all good. The sausage has a smoky spicy bite to it, and the corn is sprinkled with a sweet/salty/spicy seasoning that sticks to the butter and char from the grill. Nikolai can’t quite finish the sausage, so he holds it out and Seth turns to him without Nikolai asking and takes a bite while Nikolai holds it for him.

When Seth kisses him, he tastes of smoke and sunshine, and Nikolai’s heart thumps loudly. There are times and places for hiding away, but this feels as if they are finally getting their celebration, so he frames Seth’s face with his hands and leans in, foreheads pressed together before he kisses him again several times.

He hears shouts and his name being called, but no one sounds angry. Everything about this day seems full of joy.

Nikolai wonders if this is what it’s like to be an Empath, to feel the emotion rolling off of everyone around them as if they’re shouting pleasure to the wind. Seth’s cheeks are flushed, and Nikolai knows he has to feel it. Seth exhales and smiles wide enough to crinkle his eyes.

“I need to help out here, but Nikita’s not actually a sister—”

“She lives in our room! She could still help,” Carolyn interrupts.

Heather gives her a dirty look. “Nikita’s not actually a sister,” she emphasizes, “so go have fun with her. She can show you around. There are games, and drinks, and Thorne and Rory will be finishing up soon if you want to see them.”

“Oooh, Twister!” Nikita grips Nikolai’s arm and pulls. “Come on! Lawn Twister is fun!”

“Lawn Twister?” Seth asks, but they let her pull them along in her wake.

The path twists and turns, taking them to the far side of the Quad, under a circle of trees where several mats have been set up. Brightly colored dots decorate the mats, and there are groups around each mat. As they approach, Nikita waves and points at a mat where only one person waits. “Can we join in?”

A man standing off to one side gestures in assent, and Nikita runs up to the mat. “Hi, I’m Nik, and I’m going to be your partner.”

“Be my guest,” the other girl says.

Nikita goes over the rules quickly, and Nikolai vaguely remembers having a game like this when he was very young. They’re playing with teams, so he and Seth will line up at one end of the mat, their feet covering the four dots across the end, while they face Nikita and her partner. Every time the referee spins and calls out a color and hand or foot, they’ll need to place that immediately. He and Seth can share a dot, but they can’t use a dot that Nikita and her partner are using. First person to fall means that team loses.

Sounds easy enough.

Nikolai sheds his shoes and socks and steps onto the mat. The referee calls out, “Right hand red!” and Seth immediately crouches down to put his right directly in front of his right foot.

Nikolai’s going to have to twist across Seth to do it, but it’s possible, and his height helps. He balances, and the game goes quickly after that.

Nikita’s partner is twisty, but Nikita’s height gives her an advantage. Nikolai and Seth end up hopelessly tangled up, but he thinks maybe it’s a little easier when you really don’t care where your partner touches you as you move. They press together closely, and don’t fall until Nikita’s foot slips and she pushes against Nikolai’s foot on her way down.

All four of them end up in a heap, laughing as the referee yells out that they are eliminated. Of the ten mats laid out, they are the eighth to fall, so they have a short chance to rest before the final team is declared the winner of the round.

Apparently the winner gets a tiny pair of stuffed animals, which the winning team raises high while they all cheer.

They play another few rounds before Nikolai is feeling overstretched and aching, and his ribs hurt from laughing. They don’t manage to win, but that’s okay. They’ve had fun, and it’s warm and nothing’s hanging over his head. The last time he ends up in a heap with Seth straddling him, and he reaches up to pull Seth down and kiss him while people cheer and egg them on.

It’s very much worth it.

Music continues to play in the background, changing every half hour or so as one band shuffles off and another on. At one point Trish takes the stage—just herself and a guitar—but it’s no less rollicking and fun once she starts to sing.

When someone presses a bucket into Nikolai’s hands and points him towards Nikita, he doesn’t ask questions. As she turns to face him, she has some kind of plastic gun in her hands, and he quickly fishes through his memory and realizes what he’s landed in. He manages to upend most of the bucket of water over her head as she sprays him in the face. She has better range, and he’s soaked by the time he reaches Seth and tries to hide behind him, laughing.

They end up shirtless, with their shirts over their shoulders to dry while they soak up the warm spring sun.

“I don’t think I’d mind walking miles on a day like today,” Nikolai comments as he stands to one side, breathing in deeply and resting finally. The water war rages on, but they’ve managed to get out of the way for the moment.

“We’ve eaten. We’ll eat again. We have a bed. A nomadic life’s easy with help like that,” Seth notes. He squeezes Nikolai’s hand, presses against him, shoulder to shoulder. “On the other hand, if we get stuck here, I think we could survive.”

“Me too.” Nikolai hates thinking like that, but as every hour goes by and every day, and they have no idea how to get home again, he has to let the thought creep in. And it does, like a not-so-gentle reminder that he’s not done yet.

He knows that it’s not always sun and laughter here, but right now the Quad is full of joy.

Seth shoulders Nikolai, then looks off to one side. Nikolai follows his gaze and spots Pels under a tree, arms crossed tightly and her head tilted as if she looks at invisible person nearby. She speaks in hushed tones, her expression angry.

Seth starts walking and Nikolai follows. “Hey,” Seth calls out.

Pels stops talking abruptly and turns to face them. “Hey….” She draws the word out uncertainly.

“Seth. Nikolai.” Seth taps his own chest, then nudges Nikolai. “We met at your Coven thing. You seemed pretty angry then, too.”

Her gaze narrows. “Empath?”

Seth nods.

Pels rolls her eyes, making a dismissive gesture. “Stay out of my head. I don’t need your help.”

Maybe not, but it feels like she needs something. “Why are you here?” Nikolai asks.

Pels glares and gestures to the space beside her. “Because I have to be. I’m not really into crowds.”

“Neither are we, really,” Nikolai admits. He edges a little closer, shifting so that they stand beside her, no longer blocking the view of the rest of the Quad. “We were on our own for long enough that this is a bit unsettling. We’re still enjoying it, though.”

“Good for you,” Pels mutters under her breath.

“Is it that you won’t enjoy it, or you don’t want to enjoy it?” Seth asks. “Or is the risk that you might enjoy it, and that would change how you see yourself?”

“What the hell?” Pels asks.

Nikolai thinks Seth has a point. When Pels flinches, stepping away from the empty space, though, he has to wonder what other influences are going on in her life. “You should seize the day,” he says quietly.

“Maybe I don’t want to seize anything, and maybe I’m tired of people telling me how to live my life because they think I need things I don’t necessarily need,” Pels spits out.

Nikolai can tell that she’s talking to the space next to her more than him. “Well, you never know when you’re going to be whisked away to another world entirely,” he says ruefully. “So if there’s ever anything you might regret, deal with it first. Because things change fast.”

“Don’t I know it.” She throws her arms up, and Nikolai gets a glimpse of darkness on her wrist. She moves too fast for him to see what it is, and she crosses her arms again quickly as if to hide it. “It’s well-meaning advice, fine, but sometimes, I’ve just got to—” She cuts off, swiveling to face the space on her other side. She jabs a finger into the air. “And you can just shut up, too,” she grumbles. “Look, I’ve got to....” Her voice trails off, hands uncrossing to hang loose by her side.

There’s a girl across the Quad, tall with auburn hair, talking to a guy who stands beside her. They’re heading for the barbecue.

“If you’re hungry, you should eat,” Seth says gently.

Pels jerks back, blinking like she forgot they were there. She sighs as she bows her head, hair falling into her face. “Yeah. Maybe I could eat,” she decides. She makes her way to the path slowly, hands shoved into the pockets of a light jacket she probably doesn’t need in this weather. Her shoulders are hunched but she’s staring at the pair like she’s going to intercept them.

Nikolai turns away to give her some privacy.

Seth’s brow is furrowed. “I can’t figure her out, but I hope that wasn’t too pushy.”

“I get the feeling that no matter what anyone says to her, it’s too pushy,” Nikolai observes. “Rory said she was working some things out, and I think some of that has to do with whatever—or whoever—she was yelling at.”

“Weird Talent,” Seth says, and Nikolai has to agree.

The afternoon passes by in a haze of summer sun and more food. There’s a break in music just as dusk falls, and Nikolai and Seth are pressed into helping at the grills where everyone seems to want dinner served by OPT and SigPsiE at the same time. They work as darkness falls, until everyone is sated and the grill is closing up while the headliners of the day take the stage.

Nikolai has no idea who they are, but the energy in the Quad is at an even higher level. People are screaming, calling out names, and on the stage, the band setting up is chatting back. Nikolai gets the impression they’re famous in some way, and not a local group like Rory and Thorne, or Trish. This is something big and unexpected.

They start to play, and the excitement reaches a crescendo, the screams almost deafening. Seth’s expression is alight with pleasure, and he sways as Nikolai wraps his arms around him, moving to the beginning of the music.

They are cast in shadows, only the lights from the stage remaining in the Quad and it’s strange not to be afraid of the darkness. They can enjoy the intimacy, the pleasure of being out in public with a crowd, but also cocooned in their own private space.

“Nikolai.”

A soft whisper from the darkness. Seth goes stiff in Nikolai’s arms, and they turn as one.

“Nikolai,” the whisper comes again, and the darkness moves, a shadowed figure moving out of the deepest darkness and into the faint light. She’s shaped like a person despite the darkness, and she reaches out before letting her hand drop. “I’m not starving,” she whispers. “I haven’t killed anyone. I promise.”

“Chelsea,” Nikolai says, and the shadowy head nods.

She’s alive. Which is great news for Pawel and possibly for them as well. Nikolai swallows hard, and with his hands around Seth he can feel the way Seth’s heart ratchets faster.

“Are you here for—”

“I’ve figured out how to take you home,” she whispers. “It’s not the same, but I can do it. If you help me first, then I can help you.”

“Of course,” Seth says quickly.

“Of course,” Nikolai echoes. Whatever she needs, because it’s time to finish this adventure and go home.

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