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princessphilly · 4 years

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All Bets Are Off: Chapter 1

Word Count: 2068

CW: not yet, except for some bad language

Note: I don’t always write long chapters. Some may be closer to 2000, some closer to 5000, it depends on the chapter and what is going on.

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Chapter 1

“Look at my girl, moving up in the world!”

Nina could hear her mother’s voice in her head as she moved around in her office in the Lemieux Training Complex. Today was her first day working not just as a physical therapist for UPMC but as a physical therapist for the Pittsburgh Penguins and Nina felt like she was going to burst from nervousness. ‘Not bad for a girl from Clairton,’ Nina thought as she went through her schedule.

Nina had pledged never to come back to Western PA when she graduated from Clairton High. Now, almost eight years later, she was back and working with the hometown hockey team. After doing undergrad at Penn State, aka grades 13-16 with everyone from the area usually going there, Nina went down south to the University of Florida for her Doctor’s in Physical Therapy after getting her B.S. in Kinesiology. The warm weather was so much better than the fucking snow of Western PA but UPMC was offering the most money out of all of Nina’s job offers. After thinking about her student loans, UPMC was a no fucking brainer.

Taking a centering breath, Nina pasted her best professional smile on her face and got ready to go meet her first client. Before she could do that, her door opened and three men stepped in.

“Here is our newest physical therapist. Unlike Mike and Trent, Nina is a DPT,” Rick Dvorak, the head physical therapist explained to the two men with him.

Nina smiled and reached out her hand. “Good morning, my name is Nina Jackson, nice to meet you.”

Of course, she knew who the two other men were. One was Super Mario, Mario Lemieux, Pittsburgh legend and co-owner of the Pens. Next to him was Sidney Crosby, superstar who had just won his third Stanley Cup. Mario had a friendly professional smile but Sidney was looking at her like she… Nina didn’t quite know how to place that look. She kept her professional smile on her face while inwardly grimacing. Of course, the star of the team would feel some way about a black physical therapist.

“Sid looks a little starstruck,” Mario joked.

Sidney laughed self-consciously, his cheeks reddening adorably. Nina kept a straight face, thinking, ‘I hope I never have to treat him.’

Sidney smiled and his whiskey-brown eyes brightened. “Just a natural reaction to a pretty girl.”

Nina rolled her eyes inwardly, her professional smile getting strained. Sidney wanted to give himself a bag skate as he could tell that she was turned off. He felt awkward as hell and he wanted to curse but this wasn’t the time. He laughed, wishing that he wasn’t anywhere but here. Nina replied, “I’m used to turning heads but I didn’t quite expect to do that here,” with a laugh.

Sidney had met his fair share of gorgeous women, probably more than his fair share. Yet, his breath was taken away when he first saw her. Clear brown skin, dimples when she smiled, and dark brown hair pulled into a bun, nothing unique. But when Nina smiled, all Sidney wanted to do was drown in her smile and see what he could do to keep her smiling like that forever. Then, he got a look at the rest of her body and Sidney wanted to not only keep her smiling forever, he also wanted to find out what would get her to scream his name.

Then he faltered and realized that he really had goofed. Nina’s hand was still outstretched and he forgot to shake it. Sidney gave Nina an apologetic look and took her hand.

Nina didn’t know what happened when Sidney took her hand but she felt something electric, hot, and intense as hell. It was scary and she carefully pulled her hand back as soon as she could. Whatever it was, Nina was sure it was just another omen that today was going to be the worst day on earth.

Sidney gave Nina his best smile when she let go. He never felt such a connection when he had met a woman before but fuck, he had to change her mind about him.

Nina spent the next five minutes mentally willing the team owner, the captain, and her boss out of her office while making small talk. Luckily, the men left pretty quickly after wishing her luck on her first day working with the team. Sidney Crosby was the last to leave and Nina busied herself with arranging her papers. She could feel his eyes on her and Nina had no desire to interact with him. Then he finally left and she sighed deeply. Nina took several deep breaths before refocusing herself on her day ahead.

“Nina Latreice Jackson, now you know I ain’t raise no fool!”

Nina let out a low groan as she thought about another thing her mother loved to say. As much as it seemed like Crosby didn’t like her, Nina decided that she would be completely professional in every way. It wasn’t that hard; athletes were pretty much the same no matter where they were. Just like the Florida Gators players she worked on while in school, the Pens players fell under several categories. There were the jokers, the serious ones, the ones who lived to flirt, and players who fell under all of the categories.

For her first weeks, Nina worked at creating a professional boundary with the players she was working with. For the majority of the time, they were decently behaved. It was mid-season so there were all kinds of lingering issues, some more serious than others. Nina figured out pretty quickly that some of the players were going to follow directions while others were going to slack off until their issue made it impossible for them to ignore it.

However, today was her first day working with Sidney Crosby after her first day. Like she expected, it was a little awkward and his teammates didn’t help. The leader of the chirping was Geno Malkin. The guys kept walking by, sending suggestive looks and comments. Sidney’s cheeks were a dull red midway through the session. After a while, Nina got annoyed.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Geno and Jake came by for the third time, making kissing noises. Nina snapped, “Unless you need treatment, I don’t understand why you are in here.”

“Ouch,” Geno replied as Jake laughed. “She mean.”

Sidney rolled his eyes as he gave his teammates a warning look. As Nina wrapped his ankle, Sidney tried to take several deep breaths. He had rolled it a bit during practice. It wasn’t major but with the other trainers unavailable, Nina had decided to look at it.

“Why are you so stiff?”

Sidney looked up at Nina. She was checking out his ankle with pursed lips but when her eyes met his, Sidney sucked in a breath. Nina was really… words failed.

“I’m waiting,” Nina prodded with a sarcastic chuckle. This was making her feel really uncomfortable. All of the others players were relatively easygoing but the captain, he was so stoic around her. It made her feel like he didn’t really want her and Nina had observed enough over the last weeks that whatever Sidney wanted, he got. If he said one thing, she would lose the extra money from working with the team and Nina couldn’t afford that.

Sidney gulped before deciding just to admit the truth. “It’s a bit hard to be around such a beautiful woman like you.”

Nina laughed before giving Sidney a sardonic smile. Sidney felt his heart break into two. He didn’t even get a chance to ask her out before fucking it up. “It’s true,” he whispered.

Nina swallowed before focusing back on his ankle. “You should be good, Mr. Crosby. I don’t diagnose injuries; I just help treat them but you should be good to go for the next practice and everything.”

“Call me Sidney.”

Her eyes met his again and Sidney was looking at Nina with the most earnest expression she had ever seen.

“Ok, Sidney,” Nina forced out with a fake smile.

Sidney groaned before getting off the table and sliding his feet into his crocs. Nina took a deep breath and rolled her eyes after he left.

Gretchen, one of the athletic trainers, came in and snickered. “I’m surprised he made it without self-combusting.”

“What?”

“Yinz don’t know? He likes you, Nina,” Gretchen explained.

Nina shrugged. “Yeah, right.”

“He’s always staring-“

Nina interrupted Gretchen as she said, “I’d rather go and get lunch. Panera Bread sound good?”

Nina counted herself lucky that she was able to avoid Sidney after that day. Her luck ran out in the worst way. Nina was rushing out to make it to a dentist appointment when she ran into a hard chest. Tripping over her feet, Nina fell on her butt.

“Owww!”

“Are you okay?”

Nina looked up and it was Sidney Crosby, of course, holding out a hand. She cautiously grabbed it and let him pull her up off the floor. Like the first time they met, Nina felt the electricity when their hands touched. This time, Sidney held her hand even after she was off the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay,” Sidney pressed.

Nina felt her cheek feel hot as she replied, “Seriously, I’m fine. It was an accident.”

“I mean, I don’t want to give you more reasons to hate me.”

For the first time, Nina noticed that Sidney looked vulnerable. Pulling her hand out of his grasp, she murmured, “I don’t hate you. I think you’re the one who may hate me.”

Sidney blinked in surprise. “I don’t hate you! But I would love to take you out for dinner sometime.”

Something made Nina feel instantly happy at his words that he didn’t hate her and wanted to take her out but it couldn’t work. “Nice to know that you don’t hate me but dinner isn’t going to happen. I gotta go, I’m going to be late!”

Sidney watched Nina race out of the building to her car. He was losing and he wasn’t used to losing. Gritting his teeth, Sidney vowed to himself that he would get Nina to warm up to him, sooner or later.

“Hey girl, how was your appointment?”

Nina smiled as she FaceTime with her best friend Lauren. “Not bad, no new cavities or anything. I talked with Dr. Smith about maybe getting adult braces and she said I don’t really need them.”

“Sounds good for someone who was freaking out,” Lauren teased. “So, what’s going on at work? Meet any hot players? Anyone you’d hook me up with?”

“Girl, no. I keep it strictly professional with them. I don’t even want them thinking anything is going to happen,” Nina replied. She half considered sharing her interactions with Sidney Crosby with Lauren but her BFF had a bad case of loose lips when drinking. So, Nina kept that to herself.

“Is Sid hotter in person than he is on TV? You know I love my Steelers but I gotta know.”

Nina snorted before saying, “Meh. He’s alright.”

“He’s alright,’ Lauren said in disbelief. “Oh, there’s a story here.”

“There’s nothing because I deal with him at work now and then.” Nina rolled her eyes as Terrible Tess, her cat jumped in her lap. Steely, her dog, was at her feet. “Anyway, did you get the tickets for the game yet?”

Lauren was a lawyer and one of the perks was tickets to Steelers games, usually either in a box or on the 50-yard line. As diehard fans, Lauren and Nina tried to take advantage of that perk as much as possible. Lauren stated, “Oh yes, we got tickets. And there’s this guy…”

Nina listened to Lauren talk about her newest guy she was interested in as she petted Terrible Tess. As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but think of the look on Sidney’s face when she basically told him thanks but no thanks. He actually looked hurt; not an egotistical hurt that most men got when they were told that they aren't as great as they thought they were. But it was like an honest hurt. It didn’t matter though; past heartbreak taught Nina that getting involved with anyone even affiliated with work was the worst idea ever.

#drabbles #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #sidney crosby #Crosby imagines #penguin imagine #penguins imagines #penguins #all bets are off #blurbs #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey rpf

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ludi-ling · 5 years

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Crazy Eights

Well, here it is, a little treat for my followers - the first chapter of Crazy 8′s, the sequel to 52 Pickup. I’m sharing since it’s Day 7 (AU) of Rogue/Gambit Week 2020. I don’t know if I’ll ever finish this story, even though I got a fair way through it, since I wrote myself into a corner, and I’m not sure I like it very much. But I hope you like it anyway. Enjoy!

Crazy Eights

Chapter 1

Thieving 101.

Simplest rule in the book.

Don’t get caught.

I can hear pere’s voice in my head, clear as day, literally beatin’ the words into all of us, his snotty-nosed, grass-stain-scuffed li’l Fagin’s gang.

Don’t. Get. Caught.

And then his face, leaning in towards mine, grinning, saying:

Unless, o’ course, you have a reason t’get caught.

Yeah, that was mon pere, full of good, subtle ideas. He’d usually direct them at me cos he knew I was like the worst kind of sponge. I’d be soakin’ all that shit up, swimmin’ in it like a gator swims in swamp water. As a kid, I’d always figured he was just picking on me. As an adult, I realise all he was doing was laying down challenges, cos he knew this punk-ass kid would rise to the bait every time, pushing every damn boundary he could along the way.

You got potential, boy. But you got no discipline. Always halfway t’ bein’ in a rage, t’ ventin’ it out on some poor trash. You play de con, kid, you live de con. No heart-on-your-sleeve shit. Dat stays inside. Cos y’know what? Folks can read dat crap a mile away.

“C’mon, pretty boy,” the man to my right grunts, as the alarms I’ve set off still scream all around us. “Getcha arse in gear. The boss don’t take kindly to waitin’.”

He prods me in the back with the barrel of his gun, a little too sharply than is strictly necessary; but I get it, he has a job to do, and actin’ mean is part of it.

“Yeah, well, that’s what bosses are like, mon ami,” I answer with a smirk. “Never got time for nothin’. Mebbe you should think about goin’ freelance, neh? It has its advantages. No calls at unsociable hours… Don’t gotta do all the dirty work y’self… Get t’ have a couple of pretty femmes hangin’ on your every word… Still. I reckon mebbe you two ain’t smart ’nuff yet t’ graduate from the ol’ ‘Crime Boss 101’ course, am I right?”

“Hey!” The guy to my left gives me a crack on the back of the head with what I assume is also the barrel of a gun. “Shut the fuck up!”

See? Boring, predictable, run-of-the-mill flunkies. These couyons ain’t never gon’ make it past mid-tier bodyguard material.

And those alarms are still screaming. Ain’t some asshole gon’ shut it off already? It’s givin’ me a headache.

Whatever. I do as I’m told and shut the fuck up. Mostly because I’m busy scanning the décor of this corridor we appear to be walking down. The walls are lined with paintings, a mess of eras and styles that could tell anyone with an ounce of taste that whoever’s collecting this shit has none. Taste, that is. All it tells me is that this guy has cash, and he don’t mind throwin’ it ’round. We walk past a Cezanne, and I grimace.

Hang on in there, li’l guy, I say to myself as we sweep right by it. One o’these days I’m gonna free you. Soon.

Cos let’s face it.

You think I’m gonna leave a Cezanne to rot in Cain Marko’s fuckin’ playboy mansion when it could be on my wall?

I think not.

We get to the end of the corridor and, thankfully, as soon as we do, someone finally finds the off switch to the alarms. My lovely escorts throw open the burnished oak doors that I can only assume lead to Marko’s private hidey-hole; and before I have a chance to admire the woodwork, I’m being pushed inside in yet another unnecessary show of who’s boss. I stumble a little over the threshold, and there he is. Cain Marko, kingpin of London town. A big, ugly, concrete slab of a man with a mat of red hair and a jaw like a foot. He’s sitting on a burgundy-red velvet sofa that looks to be late Victorian. Possibly a Chippendale? Something to research later. True to form, he has a girl on each knee.

Crimes bosses. I toldja so. Predictably borin’. Boringly predictable.

“Well, well,” Marko greets me with a menacing grimace and a Cockney rasp. “Robert Lord. Your reputation precedes you. Finally, we get to meet face ta face.”

It’s at that point that Jake decides to kick in, a harassed voice in my earpiece, hissing: “Remy? Remy, where the fuck are you? Is everything okay?”

I jerk my head to one side and Jake’s panicked questioning cuts out.

“Yeah,” I address the man on the sofa. “Coulda been under better circumstances, though. Don’t much care for bein’ kicked around and chained up.” I clink the restraints at my wrists and ankles meaningfully. “Unless, o’ course, it’s consensual and there’s a woman involved.”

An ugly grin crosses Marko’s face. He shifts a little and pats each girl on the ass; they get the message and get to their feet, tottering out on stilettos that take a certain art to walk in – neither of them have it.

“Well,” Marko says with mock disappointment as he, too, gets to his feet. “If ya wanted to meet under better circumstances, you coulda made a less shitty attempt to rob me, Mr. Lord. I’d heard you were supposed to be some thief extraordinaire, but you ask me? You, breakin’ into my safe? That was pretty fuckin’ amateurish.”

“Hey,” I banter back good-naturedly as I watch him walk over to the bar and pour himself a drink. “I got through most of your li’l traps jes’ fine, mon ami. You wanna talk amateurish, let’s talk ‘bout your alarms. They’re more fuckin’ painful than Tante Mattie boxin’ me onna ears. And it takes too long to shut ‘em off. Either that, or your flunkies are too stupid to figure out how.”

Marko, who’d looked half-amused up to this point, lets his mouth drop into a disdainful sneer.

“Y’know somethin’, yank?” he growls at me, turning back from the bar. “You talk too fuckin’ much.”

I raise a wounded eyebrow at him.

“Yank? Hey, now you’re just insultin’ me.”

“Oh really?” He laughs; and I take back the comment about his alarm system. This is worse. “Mr. Lord, insults are gonna be the least of your problems tonight. No one steals from Cain Marko and gets to just walk out again. You picked the wrong house to rob, mate. This is one job you ain’t walkin’ out of.”

He lifts his chin slightly and calls out:

“Klein?!”

There’s no answer, and he gives an irate little pause, looks over his shoulder and says again:

“Klein?! Where the fuck are you?”

“I’m here,” a woman’s voice replies from a darkened corner, her presence so unexpected it even causes me to jump.

“Fuck me, woman,” Marko rasps at her. “How long you been standin’ there?”

The woman says nothing, simply stepping out from her corner. I realise there’s a door there. It’s impossible to say whether she’d just walked through, or whether she’d been there all along. Marko ain’t big on lighting. Which is a shame, ‘cos Klein is a woman to be looked at. Mile long legs and a figure to get all wrapped up in. Brunette hair scraped back into a bun that begs to be loosened. A glance like wildfire.

“Sorry,” she says with a small twist of humour, all delivered in a perfectly delicious and proper English accent. I feel some sorta expression begin to form on my face; an appreciative little smile begins to shift round my lips.

Forget pretty girls tottering around in sexy stilettos they can’t walk in. This is a woman.

She glances over at me, then back at her boss with an expectant expression.

“This shit thief stole me old lady’s engagement ring.” He takes a cellphone out his back pocket and stares at it. “Lesse how fast you can find it for me.”

Klein don’t waste time mincing words. Unlike the two couyons behind me, she’s calm, quiet, efficient. She marches on up with a roll of the hips that’s entirely unconscious. When she’s finally in front of me, I catch a whiff of her perfume – a barely-there scent that’s not quite fruity and not quite flowery.

I cock my head to one side and hitch her a smile.

She doesn’t take the bait. Her expression is composed as she sizes me up, wondering where to start. It’s as if she hasn’t even noticed my smile at all.

“Be gentle, chere,” I quip.

That’s when she raises her eyes and gives me a look – part disinterested, part unimpressed. Her facade is almost frosty, but it don’t fool me. Beneath the cargo pants and the bomber jacket and the unadorned face, there’s a something to this woman. It’s in the sway of her hips and the sensuousness of her scent. It’s in a whole lot more besides.

She frisks me in all the usual places, and, Goddamn, her hands alone are enough to set me on fire. Her movements are precise, clinical... yet as insinuating as the touch of a lover.

Did I mention yet I haven't had sex in 8 fucking weeks?

She gets on her knees and runs her palms down my legs, and it’s almost more than I can take.

“While you’re down there, chere...” I can’t help but say; and she pauses, looks up at me with steely eyes and says... Nothing.

Her gaze fixes on my fly like it’s the only option left, and now we’re talkin’.

She holds eye contact as she raises both hands, and thumbs open the button of my pants. Her look is impassive; but there’s an undercurrent there, a something that’s signalling to me loud and clear. She unzips my fly slow as a strip tease, and that’s when the shadow of a smile flickers across her face – a brief split second of something more, something to work with.

Jesus Christ, I’m holding my breath.

She knows what I’m thinking. She rises to full height and this time she doesn’t bother to hide the smile. She knows exactly what she’s doing to me.

“Thought you were s’pposed t’be lookin’ for contraband, p’tite,” I can't help but drawl. The comment wipes the smile from her lips and her gaze drops. She yanks open my fly and within a few short seconds she’s found the fob pocket hidden inside the waistband of my pants. Another split second later and she’s found the ring.

She turns and flashes it triumphantly at Marko.

“You made record time, Klein,” he observes approvingly, glancing up from his phone. “Twelve seconds. I’m impressed.”

Twelve seconds? I swear it coulda been a lifetime...

She throws the ring to her boss and I watch on, with a wistful sense of loss, as it arcs across the room and into his hand. Oh well. Next time, maybe.

“If you’re done, chere,” I pipe up behind her, “mebbe you could zip me up again? O’ course, if you ain’t, we can always take dis somewhere a li’l more private... ...”

I hadn’t exactly been expecting an answer, so I’m doubly taken off guard when she whips round and socks me hard with a fist to the face.

I totter a bit, tasting blood and seeing stars.

Damn, this woman packs a punch!

In the background, Marko’s laughing raucously.

“Looks like you chose the wrong woman t’ try and charm, yank.”

Seriously? Enough with the ‘yank’ thing already!

I grit my teeth and scowl as he continues:

“Zip ’im up, Klein. I can afford to be charitable to trespassers. I think we can let him leave here with his dignity, if not his life. He has taste after all. Me old ma’s engagement ring,” and he grins sardonically over at me, “is my favourite piece outta my entire collection.”

Klein obediently turns around and zips me up with more force than necessary. No more smiles and subtle flirtation. She doesn’t even look at me.

“Sentimental value,” Marko is saying, turning the ring between thumb and forefinger as he approaches me. “That’s what this ring has, Mr. Lord. Me old ma woulda been turnin’ in her grave if I lost it. Specially to some shitty low-feeder like you.”

I lick the blood from my lip slowly. Low-feeder, huh? This guy is really throwing out them punches tonight.

“Yeah, I getcha,” I retort with a sarcastic grin. “Momma woulda slapped ya t’ kingdom come if you ever messed wit’ her jewellery. Beat you wit’ a belt, prob’ly, told ya you were a good f’nothin’ piece o’ shit, I’m willin’ t’bet. Sure, I can read a mommy complex a mile away, homme, and you got it bad.”

I dunno what’s gotten inta me tonight. Or maybe I do. Frustration is a thing and a half. I'm fuckin’ wired, and I can’t stop running my damn mouth off. I ain’t usually this lippy. Honestly.

Anyways, I’m steeling myself for a beating from my End-of-Level-Boss, but surprisingly he don’t take the bait. Judging from his get-up, he’s ready for a night out, and he don’t want my blood soiling his purple Savile Row suit. Which is good for me, ‘cos the rings on his fingers look like they could double up for some pretty nasty knuckle dusters.

“I take it back,” he sneers down his nose at me. “This bloody yank don’t deserve jack.”

He sweeps away and grabs his jacket.

“You’ve been lookin’ t’prove yerself, ain’t’cha, Klein,” he throws over his shoulder at the woman still standing beside me. “Take care of Mr. Lord for me, and consider yerself one of the gang.” He walks over to a side table, pulls open a draw and takes out a gun. When he throws it to her, she catches it like she doesn’t even have to think about it. “Just make sure you keep some suitably gory keepsake for me to remember ’im by. I’m thinkin’ his teeth. He’s got them pearly whites you can only get in ’Murica. It'll remind me of ’is charmin’ smile.”

He laughs to himself, throws the ring up in the air, catches it, and deposits it into his pocket.

“Sorry, Mr. Lord,” he addresses me, “but I have places to go and people to kill. Don’t worry. Klein’ll entertain you in the playpen.” He waves absently at a door to the right. “I’m sure she’s just itchin’ to get her hands on you.”

He chuckles and heads for the door, followed by one of his henchmen, leaving with a final, gleeful, “So long!”

The door bangs shut and now it’s just me, Klein, and Henchman #1.

Wise strategy on Marko’s part, if Ms. Klein is basically untried and untested. I might break her little heart, and Henchman #1 might have to put me down instead.

I suppress a laugh at the thought.

Klein says nothing. She turns abruptly and sticks the barrel of the gun into the small of my back.

“Move,” she says. Her voice is deadpan – nothing to work with.

“Y’know, chere,” I venture conversationally, as I start shuffling over to the door, “I could speed up some if you’d jes’ untie these chains… Then we could get t’ playtime in the playpen a whole lot faster…”

“Hey, shut up will ya!” Henchmen #1 barks at me, punctuated by a sharp poke in the back by Klein’s gun. All right, all right, already. I get the message. They hustle me up to the door and next thing I know, I’m being shoved inside. Henchman #1 shuts the door behind me and I hear the locks thunk shut. Now it’s just me, and Klein.

It turns out the playpen could give H. H. Holmes’ hotel of horrors a run for its money. It’s a pokey little room, and someone’s done gone and painted the walls in a nice shade of red and crusty brown. Blood, gore and brain matter. The whole place stinks of death. Merde. The light-hearted mood I’ve managed to maintain so far immediately takes a dive.

“I take it housekeepin’ don't come round often,” I quip in an undertone – hardly as insolent as it could've been, but it earns me a kick up the ass anyway. I stagger forward under the momentum, turning to face my would-be executioner as I do so.

She has the gun pointed at me.

“Chere, I’d put my hands up if they weren’t tied behind my—”

The gun fires.

And the bullet hits the wall over my shoulder.

The crazy femme don’t give me a moment to recover.

In a flash she’s lowered the gun and is marching right over to me, grabbing the front of my shirt and jerking me down into a hungry kiss.

“It’s okay,” she whispers when she sees I’m too shocked to respond. “There aren’t any cameras in here.”

The words are barely out of her mouth and she’s kissing me again. This time I slip easily out of the chains that I’ve been working on ever since they were clapped on me, and as soon as they hit the ground, I let my palms slide up over her cheeks, pulling her closer, deeper into our kiss. Her fingers wind into my hair, tugging lightly; her body presses against mine, reminding me exactly what I’ve been without the past couple of months. I grab handfuls of her perfect ass and pull her in closer.

God, I’d fuck her right here, right now, if we weren’t in this shithole and this wasn’t a very important job.

We kiss until we have no air left to breathe.

“Lord, I’ve missed ya, Remy,” she murmurs against my lips.

“Mmm, not as much as I’ve missed you,” I answer sincerely, stealing another kiss before adding heatedly, “Eight whole weeks without you, chere... It’s enough t’ drive a man certifiably insane.”

She laughs, soft and sexy, her fingers combing lightly through my hair as she backs up a bit and regards me.

“Darlin’,” she murmurs with a smile, “you were the one who said no contact...”

“Didn’t wanna risk breakin’ your cover, Anna,” I reply, bridging the slight gap between us and feathering light kisses along her jawline. “Cain Marko’s gang don’t got a real nice reputation, sweet.”

“Pfft,” she scoffs. “I can handle myself.”

“For sure,” I agree. “But I’d prefer it if we didn’t tank this mission ‘cos we couldn’t keep our hands offa each other.”

She hums with vague agreement and runs her thumb across my bottom lip.

“Sorry about the fist to the face, babe,” she apologises. “Hope I didn’t hurt you too much."

“Peh.” I wave it off absently – I'd pretty much forgotten it already. “You do what you gotta. Speaking of...”

But she’s already way ahead of me, rooting around in her utility belt and taking out the small mem-chip case.

“Nice distraction, by the way,” she congratulates me wryly as she hands me the goods.

“Didja like it?” I ask her, pocketing the small case.

“In theory. Thought you had more style, though, Cajun. You managed to set off every alarm in the fucking building.”

“Heh. Just wanted to make sure you had enough time to pull the heist, cherie.”

She rolls her eyes expressively.

“You thought it was funny pissing everyone off, admit it. And what was all that business with the fob pocket?”

“Chere,” I answer with mock sincerity. “Eight weeks of celibacy and you think I’m gonna pass up the chance to have you feel me up? C’mon.”

The punch she lands on my bicep is enough to hurt.

“You are such a troll!” she shoots at me with more affection than ire, I’m happy to say.

“You love it,” I mutter, grabbing her helplessly and kissing her mouth soundly. We end up wasting a few more precious seconds making out again.

“So what we gonna do, huh?” I ask her once we break apart. “Henchman #1 is waitin’ outside, and I figure we could both take him out pretty easy...”

“Nuh-uh,” she cuts me off with a mischievous grin. “That’ll break our cover for sure. You, sweetheart, are taking the back door out.”

Her gaze slides over my shoulder, and when I look back, I see that the back door is actually a chute in the wall. From the amount of gore it’s covered in, it’s pretty obvious it's a disposal chute – for corpses.

“You have got to be fuckin’ kiddin’ me, p’tite,” I groan under my breath.

“Think of it as payback for kicking me down that garbage chute back at the Plaza hotel,” she banters back lightly, clearly enjoying this.

“Anna, after this, we’re even and then some,” I say dolefully.

“Yup,” she replies cheerfully. She swoops in for another quick kiss before saying: “I’ll be waiting for you by the East gate in about 30. Got some stuff to finish up here, otherwise they’ll get suspicious.”

“All right.” My response is half-hearted. I ain’t relishing goin’ down that chute, that’s for sure. Anna, however, is completely indifferent to my plight. She’s almost at the door already when I stop her.

“Uhh… Anna?”

She stops, turns.

“What?”

I point down at my chained-up ankles.

“Li’l help, please?”

She gives a theatrical sigh; but she comes back anyway, dropping to her knees and undoing the chains round my ankles.

“I’m pretty sure you could do this yourself faster than I ever could, Cajun,” she says pointedly, to which I shrug and reply:

“Sure. But havin’ you down on your knees in front of me brings back all sorts of happy mem’ries I’ve been denied the past couple of months.”

The chains clatter to the floor and she quirks an unimpressed look at me.

“Jesus. You’re puttin’ out more pheromones than a skunk puts out spray.”

“Chere, I been insulted ’nuff today, bein’ called a ‘yank’ an’ all. You reckon you could find an analogy a little more flatterin’ than a skunk?”

She gets to her feet and plants her hands on her hips.

“Swamp boy, there ain’t enough analogies in the world for the dirty things I wanna call you right now,” she declares in her gorgeously titillating and rarely-bestowed native Mississippi accent.

“Oooh,” I banter back. “Dirty, huh? Beb, when I get you home tonight, you can call me all the dirty things under the sun. I can’t wait.”

She chooses to ignore the statement, walking over to the chute instead and pulling it open. When she looks back at me, she’s smiling sweetly.

“Sugar, when we get home tonight, the first thing you’re gonna do is take a shower. Cos once you’ve gone down this here chute, you’re gonna be dirty as hell, and not in a good way.”

Trust her to kill the mood. I peer down the hole gingerly. The miasma wafting up from down below is worse than any skunk’s.

“Chere, you wanna rethink this? Only I get the feelin’ one shower ain’t gon’ be enough t’ get the stench out...”

“Quit being such a baby!” She’s smiling way too hard for my liking at this point. “The sooner you get this over with, the sooner we can wrap up this job.”

I step reluctantly up to the edge of the hole, and she leans in over my shoulder, murmurs in my ear: “And the sooner I can get my hands on you again.” She lets that suggestion linger. And, Dieu, does it linger.

“Now buckle up and hold onto the railings,” she warns me.

“What railings?” I manage to get out, before her boot heel connects with my ass, and I’m suddenly tumbling through the filth and mire down, down into the depths of the Marko mansion.

-oOo-

[Chapter 2 now here!]

#rogue/gambitweek2020 #rogue/remyweek2020 #Romy fanfic #Romy #Rogue #Gambit #Rogue and Gambit #52 Pickup #crazy 8's #crazy eights

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mind-reader1 · 6 years

Text

The Twins of La Huerta (Ch.3)

A/N: This is a collaborative fic from myself, @bbaba-yagaa, @brightpinkpeppercorn and @roonarific. It is DIFFERENT than the one posted by @sceptilemasterr over the past few months. That being said, this story doesn’t strictly follow canon, it’s got crack-fic moments, serious moments, NSFW moments. A bit of everything and so we really hope you enjoy! Not for the faint of heart. (This is the last time this warning will be posted.) It’s also come to my attention some tags aren’t working, please let me know if that’s the case!

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,920

Catch up with Chapters 1 and 2 here!

Last Time: The group decides to celebrate having the hotel to themselves with a pool party. Estela and Tyler had a little heart to heart under the stars, and Taylor saw something strange in the jungle that Jake tried to help her forget.

Chapter 3: Trails and Tails

She woke up the next morning, Jake was gone. Slipping into some clothes she found the group downstairs, chaos reigning. Raj had made everyone his famous 'hangover cure’ breakfast, no one had time to eat it though because Lila came in with big news, she had figured out what happened to the guests. They were at some emergency shelter, only no one knew where exactly that shelter was.

“I'm in.” Jake said, everyone looking at him confused.

“You said you were going to look for the shelter. I was supposed to be on a beach in Mexico by now, everyday I spend here is money lost.”

“Me too! I'd love to see the island.” Quinn giggled turning to Tyler who was looking for Estela. This kind of thing seemed right up her alley.

“Are you going to come Tyler?” She rested her hand gently on his arm, but he ignored her.

“Whaddya say Princess? Are you coming?” She could feel everyone's eyes on her, she couldn't stop thinking about the tiger, the way it stalked her in the bushes. Her hands were getting sweaty, Tyler watched her closely, worried about her.

“I...uh.” Jake grinned.

“It's okay if you're too scared. You can stay here with the rest of the goof troop.”

“We should stay Tay.” Tyler leaned over to whisper. She scowled at both of them, she wasn't some scared little kid.

“Wait! I'm coming.”

“Why?” Diego asked.

“Aren't you at least a little curious as to why no one came back from the shelter yet?”

“Yeah, but that doesn't mean we need to go looking. It's horror movie 101, but I'll go just so I can say I told you so when something attacks us.”

“I’m going too then.” Tyler jumped up as the rest of the group was getting ready to leave.

“I think we've got enough Boy Scout.” Jake grinned.

“Tyler can protect me!” Quinn giggled grabbing his arm.

“Who are we to stand in the way of love Jake?” Taylor teased her brother. Strolling through the forest, Quinn began to admire the brightly colored flowers, they seemed to be glowing unnaturally. She leaned in to smell them while Jake took a step back, something about overhearing stories in the right dive bars and not trusting anyone after running secret government missions. Taylor took a step back from the flowers wary, Jake pulled her closer to him.

“Good call Princess.” His arm snaked around her waist as they walked together. Tyler's hands balled into fists as they walked, catching glances of Jake's hand sliding a little lower, as Diego grilled him about Estela.

“Oh no! This doesn't make any sense.” Lila frowned looking around.

“What doesn't make sense?” Taylor asked.

“The shelter should be right here according to the signs!” Aleister rolled his eyes annoyed.

“Great. The tour guide is lost. What do they even pay you for anyways?”

“Tactical scouting 101 kids. Get to high ground. See that rocky cliff over there? I'm checking it out.”

“Ooh that sounds like a waterfall nearby. I'll bet the shelter is near it.” Quinn piped up.

“I really think we should stick to the trail, the shelter should be just up ahead.” Everyone was bickering about why their idea was better and it was getting old.

“Why don't we split up!” Taylor suggested.

“I'm staying here on the trail.” Diego said, Aleister plopped down indicating that he wasn't going anywhere.

“Want to keep me company Princess?” Jake winked. Tyler jumped up to interject but didn't have time.

“That'd be fun.” They ran off and Tyler tried to chase after them, but Quinn stepped in his path smiling at him.

“Want to come with me? Keep me safe?” Quinn giggled. Tyler rolled his eyes and let her drag him off.

****

Jake deftly leaped and ducked as they combed through the forest to the mountain.

“You do this alot? Hiking through the forest that is. You seem pretty confident in the outdoors.” Jake turned to look back at Taylor and smiled, make sure she was keeping up.

“I grew up in a Louisiana town that was so rural it wasn't even on the map. When it comes down to it, the swamp and the jungle ain't so different.

“Probably less gators though.”

“Less gators, more jaguars, I'd call it even. How about you Princess? This your kinda scene?”

“I love the outdoors. Blue skies, fresh air, a soft sea breeze...it's perfect. I mean I should be more freaked out by...whatever that thing was I saw last night, but being out here? I can't help but feel happy,” she saw Jake watching her intently as she spoke a twinkle in his eye, “the company doesn't hurt either.” She winked but Jake had turned away and didn't seem to hear her.

“That why you come with? Wanted a nature hike?”

“It’s not a nature hike unless we're au natural. I came for the company.” Taylor tried again and this time he heard her.

“Oh!” She could tell she caught him off guard.

“You're not like the others here Jake. You're confident and capable, and you seem like you know what you're doing. I don't know what it is, but...I want to be near you. I feel safe with you, is that weird?”

“Naw, not weird. Just classic Princess.”

“Are you ever gonna use my real name?” She playfully crossed her arms.

“Only when you've earned it.” He winked.

“And how do I do that Top Gun?” They emerged at the base of the cliff they needed to climb.

“Well how's your rock climbing?”

“Let's find out.” She sauntered off in front of him, shaking her hips, knowing that Jake was watching her. They began climbing the cliff using small handholds to pull themselves up. Breathing hard, Jake crested the cliff first, Taylor just about to follow when the rock she had hold of crumbled beneath her grip.

“Ahh!” She grabbed the edge of the cliff, before Jake could even react she was pulling herself up.

“Nice moves Princess.” Jake walked over and looked out over the forest, it was an incredible view. The forest went on for miles in different shades of green, blue water just barely visible on the horizon. She sidled up beside him, but he wasn't paying any attention to her, so she decided to have some fun. She peeled her shirt off.

“It's soooo hot.” She fanned herself and Jake turned around, his eyes widening as they raked over her body with desire.

“This place never stops taking my breath away.”

“It's one hell of a sight.” Jake grinned and forced himself to look away.

“Hey Top Gun, that look like a shelter to you?” She pointed out to a small grey building by the river.

“Hot damn Taylor, nice eye.”

“So, I earned it?” She grinned.

“Don't get ahead of yourself Princess. Maybe before I leave we can go on another climb.” There was a genuineness to his voice that made Taylor smile.

“I'd like that.”

“Let's get back to the others.”

****

Tyler and Quinn walked in silence until she turned to him.

“Thanks for coming with me.” She grabbed his arm and smiled at him.

“I just wanted some space from Jake…” she trailed off, tears welling in her eyes.

“Not your favorite person?”

“No. He made me feel dumb earlier… calling me Pippi Longstocking and throwing pumpkin spice lattes in my face. He has me pinned as a spoiled, sheltered college student which isn't true at all. I just wanted to enjoy the flowers! This is my first time ever enjoying the outdoors, I didn't have a normal childhood.” Tyler did feel bad for Quinn, Jake's comment had been harsh and demeaning, he didn't know what his sister saw in that low life.

“Yeah, that was pretty messed up. I'm sorry he said that to you, I don't think you're dumb.”

“Thanks,” she giggled, “is this your kind of vacation?” Tyler nodded.

“I really enjoy the outdoors, everything about it. It's just... peaceful.”

“Maybe Jake just doesn't understand that. He seems like he's seen some scary stuff.” They heard the sound of rushing water getting closer.

“I just think he's a dick. Don't worry about what he thinks Quinn.” She smiled just as they emerged through the trees and into a beautiful lagoon with a waterfall. Quinn quickly peeled off her clothes, wading into the water. Tyler hung back on the beach, a pang in his chest, he wished that he was here with Estela. They could be bitching about Jake, maybe swimming together, he could finally disarm her of the stupid pencil. He snickered to himself and hung his head between his knees as he sat in the sand. He was pining for a girl who threatened to kill him with a dull pencil, not once but twice, and told him to stay away. There was just something about her that drew him in, like a moth to the flame.

“Tyler come swimming!” He sighed and peeled his shirt off headed towards the water when a glint caught his eye. He bent down to pick it up and it was a pirate doubloon.

“What'd you find?” Quinn wadded out of the water, resigning herself to the fact that she wasn't going to convince him to go swimming. He showed her the piece of pirate gold and her eyes widened in surprise.

“Do you think it's real?” Tyler shrugged.

“We've seen lots of crazy stuff on this island. Wouldn't surprise me much.” he snatched it back and stuck it in his pocket, Quinn frowned.

“I guess we should go back then.” Tyler nodded and started the trek back.

****

Jake and Taylor had found the shelter, it was a short walk from the where everyone had split up, off the path.

“Why are we celebrating? Is this place not giving anyone else 28 Days Later vibes?”

“Shelters are made to keep you safe, not look pretty. C'mon.” Jake led the way into the dilapidated shelter only to find it was empty and worn down on the inside as well.

“Maybe pop culture Petey was right. This place is giving me the creeps.”

“I don't like this Tay.” Tyler appeared at her side.

“Anyone else want to go back to the jungle with pretty flowers? Anybody?” Quinn's voice was shaky.

“Lots of muddy shoe prints. They seem recent, someone was here.” Jake knelt down. Tyler uneasy feeling began to grow.

“Tay. We should get out of here.” He grabbed her arm.

“I'm not leaving our friends Tyler!” everyone jumped as they heard a skittering noise, like rats, but it was something much larger. They followed the source of the noise to a large black hole where the concrete wall had collapsed, the flowers from outside growing out of it.

“I think it came from in there.” Diego pointed. Tyler took a deep breath and stepped up to look.

“Something's definitely alive in there.” before anyone could process, a small figure came bounding out of the darkness. It was a small, blue, fox looking creature, ice clinging to the wall behind it. It seemed afraid, no one knew why until they heard the low, deep growl behind them. Turning they came face to face with the creature Taylor had seen the night before.

“Jake! What do we do?” Taylor looked at him and it was the first time she had ever seen him look scared, he grabbed her hand, she grabbed Tyler's with her other one.

Perma-Tag: @brightpinkpeppercorn @sleepwalkingelite @ooo-barff-ooo @endlessly-searching-for-you @agent-bossypants @roonarific @likethetailofacomet @zaffrenotes @mysteli @vickypoochoices @kayann93 @jlouise88 @zigortega4life @findingdrake @bbaba-yagaa

Jake Tag: @endlesstaylormckenzie @sophie-summer @darley1101 @emomoustache @xo-endlessmayhem-xo

Twin Tag: @sceptilemasterr @queerchoicesblog

#Jake McKenzie #estela montoya #endless summer #choices stories you play #jake x mc #jake mckenzie x mc #estela x mc #estela montoya x mc #choices endless summer #twinfic #the twins of la huerta

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junker-town · 6 years

Text

THIS WEEK IN SCHADENFREUDE, Texas is just hopping mad

Texas leads a wide-ranging tour of the angry college football internet after Week 9.

Welcome back to THIS WEEK IN SCHADENFREUDE, your weekly rocket ship ride through the most infuriated regions of the college football galaxy. Last week, this page focused exclusively on Ohio State, because that was the only logical choice. This week, we’re taking a journey around a small handful of furious fanbases on the internet.

Texas lost to Oklahoma State, knocking the Longhorns out of the top 10.

Though they remain in the thick of a chaotic Big 12 race, it’s a disappointing moment for Tom Herman’s bunch. Said one Longhorn fan afterward:

I don’t want to watch football anymore

That was the title of a message board thread. This was the profound body:

And there you have it.

A former Texas linebacker got into a fast-escalating online beef with a current Texas cornerback, who’d been suspended for the first quarter.

Ex-Horn Emmanuel Acho initially defended the suspended Kris Boyd, because Texas sitting down a starting cornerback had the side effect of helping OSU get lots of yards:

I understand all the, “teach your players a lesson” tweets, but YALL understand, if Saban benched players everytime they violated team or American laws, Bama might not have a single national title.

— Emmanuel Acho (@thEMANacho) October 28, 2018

But then Acho — who’s now an ESPN analyst — got rougher.

Bruh, you can’t be late to meetings THEN come out here and get mossed. Your team needs you. #Texas #OkState

— Emmanuel Acho (@thEMANacho) October 28, 2018

And then he used the “trash” word ...

I can’t watch this dude play defense anymore. It’s actually trash. If you know. You know. #Texas

— Emmanuel Acho (@thEMANacho) October 28, 2018

... and said he wasn’t talking specifically about Boyd, but, uh:

Naw I feel u, and I didn’t say I was talking about Kris, I would never put nobody on front street like that... but anybody who feels that tweet applies to them should probably step up. I played hella trash games in my day lol. U grow and move on u feel me

— Emmanuel Acho (@thEMANacho) October 28, 2018

How’d Boyd respond? Aggressively.

Boyd going straight after Acho on Instagram. Smart. pic.twitter.com/0LuqqMGzl4

— Burnt Orange Nation (@BON_SBNation) October 28, 2018

Fortunately for Boyd, INSTAGRAM ASSAULT is not a violation of team rules.

One fan had a spicy take about what should be done to the game’s officiating crew: They should all be handed over to the mob.

Refs are screwing us again

The offsides on that 4th down was f%<*¥ing criminal. Somebody send the mafia to threaten the refs to pay these dickheads back for 2015.

Texas fans were livid at the officiating in 2015’s OSU-UT game, when a few apparent officiating errors went against the Horns. Every other Big 12 fan in the universe thought it was deeply ironic to see Texas fans upset about refs.

(Texas actually had a legit beef about that offside call, yeah. Oklahoma State sent a bunch of guys in a “motion” that looked a lot like emulating live play, and refs didn’t call a false start, but instead penalized the Horns for jumping off. The Horns also probably got away with a penalty in their end zone later in the game. Either way, Sicilian crime families must get involved.)

This Horns fan was MAD and only got MADDER when nobody wanted to join in being EXTREMELY MAD.

User TexasHorn started this thread on the team’s 247Sports message board before Texas’ body was even cold, while it was still the second half:

A COMPLETE JOKE

Dan Neil, we have our answer, NO, Texas is not mature enough to handle success

Being destroyed on national television - not sure if the Horns can recover before next week because wvu has a better team than osu

Nobody responded, so they added:

Sorry for being honest - where am I wrong guys, seriously?

Any one thrilled with this performance?

Still, nobody responded, so they added again:

Explain the off sides guys - want to argue the complete joke comment?

So tired or posting without any response - gutless!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Finally, someone replied:

We’re playing scared like a bunch of pussies. Coaches and players.

Persistence always pays off.

THIS WEEK IN SCHADENFREUDE is usually about fans, but Tom Herman is now the second head coach to make an appearance, thanks to the end of the game.

This is the sort of sprinting velocity that can only be generated by pure anger.

Recap of Tom Herman & Mike Gundy in the late scrap, their postgame handshake and Gundy's interview explanation pic.twitter.com/CMzJpKwzpw

— CJ Fogler (@cjzer0) October 28, 2018

(Herman and Mike Gundy are fine.)

Herman joins Jeremy Pruitt, who kicked a whiteboard and was thus included by rule:

Hey Knoxville... how's it going? #UFvsUT pic.twitter.com/HxplOn0uRQ

— Mike Gillespie (@MikeABCColumbia) September 23, 2018

Washington lost to Cal as a disappointing season became a total failure.

The Huskies are not even making a New Year’s Six bowl in Jake Browning’s senior year, two years after getting to the Playoff with him as a sophomore.

In some corners of the web, faith’s running short in Chris Petersen.

At HardcoreHusky.com, someone started a thread: People you have more faith in than CP, reflecting the fanbase’s growing impatience with Petersen, whose job titles are head coach, Guy Who Won a Million Games at Boise State, and Guy Who Got Washington to the College Football Playoff.

This was the only thing there:

Photo by Stephen Chernin/Getty Images

This was another fan’s measured response:

FUCK THSI PROGRUM IM FUCKING OUT

WE SUCK SND SHOULDNT LOSE TO CAL. WE ARE A LOSER PROGRUM. UPPER CAMPUS DGAF ABOUT WINNING. FIRE PEENERMAN. END TNIS FUCKING TEAM.I WANT DONG JAMES BACK. I WANT TO FUCKING WIN. NO JUAN IN THIS FANBASE HAS DTANDARS EXCEPT FOR THOS SITE. YOU GUYS GET ITZ PETERMAM DOES NOT. FUCK EVERYTHING.

Someone urged this poster to say calm:

Stay positive! Fuck Petersen!

But this blunt response to the loss pretty much summed it up:

We lost to cal

Lol I’m done. Fuck Husky football. Fuck Petersen. Fuck Browning. Fuck Haener. Fuck everything. Roll tide.

Maybe that sounds harsh, but UW fans have wanted Bama since early in 2016:

Settle down, Washington pic.twitter.com/4lnFCfcJ4i

— College Football by SB Nation (@SBNationCFB) September 3, 2016

Miami lost to Boston College, which means it’s time to look at how Hurricanes fans responded to the team’s official Twitter account in real time.

When Miami loses, checking Twitter’s important, because Canes fans are always the most direct in college football. The classic of this genre:

I’m gonna jump off a building

— Heat 3x (@Jbazo5D) September 3, 2018

As Boston College put a thumping on the Canes, fans responded well. Just follow along with various score updates and quarter breaks.

1. After the first Boston College score:

Already with the bs

— Howard Webster (@TbearCane17) October 26, 2018

2. After, um, a Miami score:

Right...embarrassing.

— Carlos Marante (@ItsACanesThing5) October 27, 2018

3. After another BC score:

Is this a retweet?

— Tucker McFall (@RealTuckMcFall) October 26, 2018

4. End of the first quarter!

pic.twitter.com/UqrP2scamn

— Brandon English (@BEnglish007) October 26, 2018

5. After some ostensibly good news?

Way to look at the bright side.

— Brandon English (@BEnglish007) October 27, 2018

6. After an actual good play:

Throw the ball in front of the receiver and it could've been 6

— Christopher Gray (@Barclayallday26) October 27, 2018

7. After a touchdown by Miami:

How on Gods green earth do you have a -5 yard punt return, inside the 10-yard line, with not one but TWO blocks in the back on the return? That's piss poor

— Tucker McFall (@RealTuckMcFall) October 27, 2018

8. After a defensive stop by Miami:

We must be trying to run the clock out....ridiculous

— umcane (@umcane26) October 27, 2018

9. Halftime!

Yes a dogfight with BC! Proud day for the Canes.

— Bryant Jensen (@Bjensen630) October 27, 2018

10. After another good play by Miami’s defense:

BC knows our QB can’t hit the side of a barn further than ten yards so they playing up on the line

— solidlifefitness (@solidlifefitnes) October 27, 2018

11. A little later:

This guy is worse than Jacory Harris

— The Bad Hombre (@jbjammin34) October 27, 2018

12. Things getting desperate:

Get Jimmy Johnson out of retirement

— John Bennett (@DirtyBirdz19) October 27, 2018

13. The Turnover Chain is out! This is good for Miami!

This is the most remedial offense I've ever seen

— The Bad Hombre (@jbjammin34) October 27, 2018

14. End of the third quarter!

Social Media dude.. let Coach know Malik ain't it. Thanks boss.

— Joey Inza (@JoeyInza) October 27, 2018

15. Game over.

Joke.

— Nick Alvarez (@NicksTake22) October 27, 2018

I’ve said it before, but Miami fans are the overprotective relative who will roast you all day but threaten to burn down the house of anyone else who criticizes you.

I respect and fear them in equal measure.

Ultimately, it was best to just step away.

recap, 3 stars, good, bad, and ugly up on https://t.co/W9gmsOyW7d i have nothing else to say. i'm going to play #RDR2 bye.

— StateOfTheU.com (@TheStateOfTheU) October 27, 2018

Florida lost to Georgia, ending the Gators’ dreams of winning the SEC East.

Gators fans were actually pretty reasonable about it. I don’t have jokes. I’m just making the note here so that you know I was as disappointed to learn this as you were. I checked.

In all kinds of weather, y'all, and go Gators pic.twitter.com/jTaaNcXnvS

— BUM CHILLUPS (@edsbs) October 27, 2018

And TCU lost to Kansas, thus earning automatic inclusion as the last team on this list.

Things are dark in Fort Worth.

Is this how Baylor Feels?

For the first time I am embarrassed to wear my TCU gear in public.

The last spot in this list is now just tradition, devoted to any team that might lose to Kansas in a given week.

In Week 3, a Rutgers fan asked after losing to KU: “What stage of grief are you in?”

They have grinded me down into not caring about college football at all just like the Knicks and the Mets have done in basketball and baseball respectively. In a way it’s good. I can enjoy my kids without having to give a hoot about the scores on Saturdays.

Before that, in Week 2, a fan of the MAC’s Central Michigan wrote this:

Fire Bonamego

I know I’ll hear a lot of the usual “it’s too soon in the season” and “MAC play hasn’t even started”, but I’ve been a die-hard supporter of the football program and I EXPECT us to compete against the power teams every year. There’s no reason that we can’t be like Boise State or better. We need to strive to be better and we shouldn’t settle for mediocracy.

Again, that was a MAC fan distraught about losing to a Big 12 team.

Congrats to the Horned Frogs and their fans on joining this prestigious club.

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