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calypsoff · 4 years ago

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Sixty Two.

Today is Grammy’s day, and I am feeling the full throttle of being lost in a room full of designers, I am just here confused as hell. I am so glad Rorrey is here with me, I asked him to stay longer but also Robyn’ family have come and it’s nice to have them; they are currently keeping me sane because this home is busy. We have had people coming in and out for Robyn, her dress is too tight so Mel had to rush out and now his partner Adam I think, he’s using my office to come up with a backup plan, he was supposed to be dressing me, but it’s been scrapped, and they are rushing around Robyn, me on the other hand. I am waiting for JC to cut this shit off my head “Hi everyone, where is she?” Looking behind me at Jen “upstairs in our bedroom, she’s not happy. Tell her that I will bring her some food up, it’s coming” Jen pointed at me “good, I will go up then. Wish me luck” she walked off, I got to make sure my babies are fed now, I got to take care of my wife “is it always like this busy?” I asked Rorrey “bro, it’s bad. But not as bad as the fact Robyn doesn’t fit in her dress so I can only imagine how annoyed she is, usually it flows so yeah. How you feeling? You’re going to be there with Robyn, in the limelight. Her husband, you know what. Embrace it, you’re out there winning. Fuck what anyone says because we know your heart bro, we know you so whatever they say means nothing. Enjoy yourself, get in there. You smile too, there will be a lot of flashing lights, but you be there for my little sister and my nephew or niece, it’s y’all day. It ain’t even Grammy’s night, it’s y’all night. Trust me” I chuckled “makes me feel nervous when you say that I know that people won’t be expecting Robyn pregnant, they going to see it now officially” rubbing my chest grinning “Boys, Chris” looking behind me “food” Frank held it out, we have Frank at the door because the door is open, so you never know “oh yeah thank you” getting up from the couch, taking the bag from him “hey family!” Noella walked in with my favorite princess “oh wow, forget Robyn. Look at Majesty” walking around the couch towards her “hey” hugging Noella “hey you, big day for you. I’m excited, you not going to take your fave?” Shaking my head “duty calls, got to feed Robyn” I know she’s going to be so hungry “oh yeah, you do that” walking around Noella to go upstairs.

Knocking on the door lightly and pushed it open, my eyes widened. Luckily it’s just women in here because I would have blown a fuse and the three men are gay because she’s naked, I dislike that “let me put my robe on then, the fuck!? Why didn’t any of you tell me to try these dresses on beforehand!? My body shape has fucking changed, how stupid! How fucking stupid!” Closing the door behind me “why isn’t your hair cut!? You’re not going like that” oh she’s spotted me “soon, I bought you food” Robyn finally put her robe on, well she needed too. She’s a little stressed out, she looks so stressed “come, let’s go and sit in the corner” Robyn shook her head “I don’t have time” pulling a face at her “you don’t have time for me” she put her head down as her smile grew “maybe a couple of minutes then” I chuckled “I’ll take that, come. Let’s just, actually let’s just sit in the spare room. The room I never took all the stuff out of” walking back out of our bedroom “yes Chris, we need to decorate the baby room” I had to start her off “I know” opening the bedroom door and walking inside the room “I will do it, I promise” sitting on the edge of the bed “if you can” opening the bag for Robyn, I got her a chicken salad because if I get her anytime fried she would say I’m adding weight onto her “you really got me food” placing the bag at the side of me “of course I did, you just need to relax. You’re really stressing out, nobody is more stressed out then the people around you that want to make you perfect” opening the box “true, just that I want to be perfect and it’s like I can’t be” stabbing my fork in the salad and chicken and holding it up too “what, don’t cry” placing the fork in the box, placing my arm around her, I was going to ask what is it but I didn’t, let her just cry it out and then I will.

Rubbing Robyn’ back, she laughed to herself “I’m just hormonal, sorry” shaking my head laughing “don’t be, just eat. Here” lifting the fork up to her mouth “I just got overwhelmed, it’s nothing bad” she said before eating from the fork “it’s ok, I got you. It’s a lot happening, yes you are the superstar but it’s a big event where you are for one pregnant so there is a lot of emotions in that but you’re revealing something that is very close to you and letting the public in, it’s a lot on your shoulders too. You may think you don’t feel good and stuff, but you do. You’re actually the most beautiful pregnant woman I have ever seen” holding the fork up to Robyn’ mouth and looking at her, Robyn is so teary eyed “I don’t deserve you” she sobbed out, she did that and a bit of chicken came out of her mouth and onto my arm “sorry” she laughed wiping my arm “anything else? Stop crying, you’re going to look amazing. I can’t wait to see you all dressed up” using the back of my hand to wipe her tears “I have my foundation on, you wiped it” letting out an oh laughing seeing my hand full of it “just eat, you need too” she ate finally, she is feeling emotional “it’s not about me, I will be there for you. This is your day Robyn, it really is. And I will be there with you, you don’t need to speak to anyone when walking that carpet either” Robyn rested her head on my shoulder “I think when the dress didn’t fit over my bump I just had a meltdown, but they will fix it for me. I know it, thank you for being a good husband to me. I should be the one prepping you, this is a big thing for you” eating the salad myself because she ain’t eating and I’m hungry “we got each other, you will be fine” feeling my phone ringing “I think JC is here, I need to go down. But eat this ok, you need to keep the baby fed now” Robyn moved her head back from me “love you” pecking her lips “love you too, I’ll come and check on you later” passing the food to Robyn.

I swear I have a soft spot for Majesty, she is the cutest little thing “look up for me bro” JC said, majesty is nosey, she is like what the hell is happening. Lifting my head up as he finished my line up “you going to look the cleanest in that bitch bro, trust me. The thing is I have had many phone calls about haircuts but then you messaged me, I was like ok I need to go to him. You’re a good man so I had to come out here for you” I grinned “all done” looking back down at Majesty “you ain’t scared are you?” She smiled at me “let me take a video bro” fixing Majesty in my lap “cool, you know I appreciate you coming out. I know you had a lot going on, you had many other clients so good looking out” I can’t believe he did come out for me “not a problem, just look down for me” looking down smiling at Majesty, I just went for a clean cut. Nothing special, JC walked around me “looking good brother” looking up smiling “shoutout my nigga JC for lining me up” Majesty yelped out “with my niece, she is giving you a shoutout” I chuckled, she is here trying to be involved “thank you” I said again, I appreciate him so much for this. He didn’t need to do all that, but he did come out here for me “have a good one out there though bro, big hype for you” I chuckled shaking my head, I don’t know about that shit.

The press is going wild for Rihanna, like every headline about the Grammys is about Rihanna coming. Tapping on the video “Rihanna will be performing but will she be pregnant, she has teased the world and hasn’t been seen in public for what could be months. She’s hidden behind her Instagram so I think this even will be Fenty’ day, it is I don’t care what you say. The pictures she posts could be old for all we know, I am interested to see if she is and if she is, you can catch me on the flip side going crazy. Her husband has been seen out on several occasions with her brother. One thing about him and I’ve read people talk about him because we don’t know him besides he’s just a regular guy, they say he’s always kind and always there to say hi and has never denied a picture with fans and always spoke if they ask and we really, we honestly hope that we get to see what Rihanna is doing” this E news discussion thing is deep “you reading up huh?” Rorrey said laughing at me “erm not really, it was on my timeline on my Instagram so I just thought I would look. But I get it, I get that Robyn is feeling the pressure. Why do people care so much? I really didn’t care for celebrities like that, I don’t’ anyways now but people really care” it is so weird to me “people are obsessed with my sister, at times I am like why? But she sells” he has a point, but I don’t like the obsession, the way they are counting down on her.

It's nice that Rorrey and Noella are here, I mean all of her team are here in this house, they are here supporting Robyn, but she has been upstairs forever, she is taking her damn time up there. I hope she is ok with everything; I know there is a lot going on with the Grammys “so are you both going to be there? At the Grammys?” I asked “how does it work? Do I just follow Robyn? I am not even sure what the fuck I am doing” I asked either Noella or Rorrey to answer “so you walk the red carpet, different for you because you’re her husband so like at first you just let her ahead and then usually once done we go but with you I think it will work like she goes ahead first and then they may shout you or Robyn will wave you over, stand with her. Just look around and let the photographers take the pictures, once that is done you walk further along. There may or may not be interviews if so you will just wait there with her. Then you walk in, someone will show you to your seats, with it being Robyn it will be front row. You sit with her, she will at some point be asked to go to get ready to perform. Either me or Noella will come out and sit in her place while she performs so we can watch it, we are going to be there but backstage. Then she will come back to her seat, but you will just remain where you are. Just let it flow Chris, that is how I say it” nodding my head, I think I will be ok “Chris, hey. Come with me” Adam said to me “follow me” he laughed, getting up from the couch “be nice with him!” Rorrey shouted, following out of the room and following Adam “sorry, just behind but we had to change your suit colour too so yes. I am in the office, so we needed to match with your wife, we had to change this last minute, but we got there so you are wearing white please do not dirty it” walking into the office “this is so nice, yeah. I think it will match my new cut. Sharp as hell” I chuckled.

Fixing my belt on my white pants, these are crisp white, so I need to be extra careful with myself “are you done? I am coming in Chris” Adam said and opened the door “you look perfect, so I have some accessories for you, I picked out the watch” turning to Adam “watch? Really?” Adam opened the box “this is Richard Mille, white gold. This costs around seven hundred and fifty thousand, but you will be wearing this for the night, celebrities don’t keep many jewellery, companies give them things to wear to show off their rand and I got you this” my eyes widened, I am in shock “bro, this is expensive. And it’s on my wrist, this is making me nervous” I chuckled, watching him put the watch on my wrist “wow, I am shook. Amazing, this is dope bro” I am so excited “so I just give this back to you at the end of the night” he nodded his head “yes you do, and we have this gold ring, just put it on any finger your like and that is it. You just need to put your suit jacket on” I grinned wide, taking in a deep breath “I am so excited, I am wearing a watch this expensive “come here” Adam grabbed the suit jacket, holding it open for me. He is rushing me “your wife is down; she is glammed up. Are excited” putting my jacket on, he pressed his hands down on my shoulders “I feel like I am getting married all over again, is she happy? That is all I want, is her happiness” turning to Adam “she is, we have made her happy” that is all I care about.

Pressing my suit down as I made my way out “looking good Chris” Mel winked at me “thank you, your man got me good” making my way to the living room “your groom is here, oh wow Chris. You look so nice. Ready for your big day” Noella complimented me “thank you” I chuckled, I cheesed seeing the back of Robyn. I know the back of my wife, she is wearing red “let’s see then, I am here to see you” I said, Robyn looked behind her and I swear she looks so perfect, her eyes just glistening bright “wow” I breathed “oh my god, Chris you look so handsome” she turned to me, the red gown elegantly showing her bump, her bump look so perfect, the gown has a little trail to it but not too long for her “I love this dress twin, you look so good. Oh wow Robyn, I love it. From your face to your body, your makeup is perfect, wow” Robyn chuckled “you like it, you look in love again” she doesn’t even realise how amazing she looks “but everyone please, how amazing does she look, the boys did an amazing job. I know today was a little messy, but you did it, all of you. The Grammys aren’t ready for you Robyn, wow. I would kiss you, but I don’t want ot mess your makeup, beautiful Robyn. I am like so lucky to have you” Robyn put her head down “you’re make me shy, god. I am getting nervous just thinking about getting out of the car, we need to leave now by the way, we are going to be late” nodding my head, I guess this is it.

I can’t stress this enough, Robyn looks amazing. Her bump looks so good, she looks good. She is glowing, she is happy. I love it, this makes me happy. We have her team here in the car with us, just so they can go over Robyn that she looks perfect “so are we late?” I questioned, she seemed to have made it seem like we are “not late, on time for me. Only the losers go early Chris, but once I get out of the car, Tina is going to be there and so is Jay Brown. I will be walking, and Chris please keep up, I need you there with me. Tina will be telling me where to go and stand, she will have this information, anything you hear from the paparazzi you ignore. Fuck them, I am not answering any questions, for now I am saying this, but things can change but just stay close to me. But most of all, have fun. Big day for you too Chris, you are the most handsome man Chris” so she says when she looks like that “you look like a whole meal, I look like nothing compared to you. Robyn you look amazing, you’re glowing. I am so lucky to have you” everyone in the car cooed out “isn’t Chris so cute” Adam said, I wish they wouldn’t do that.

#chrianna fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #chriannaff #chrianna ff #chrianna

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years ago

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Mayor Buckman x Fem!Reader || Drabble

Plot: (This is set right after the events of the last drabble, Bisexual!Granny Boone x Lesbian!Reader except this is a completely different reader and we follow Buckman after he left that drabble) You multitask running a bar on a Friday night, fending off Hank (An OC I guess?) who’s self-proclaimed love for you can be a real hassle, and comforting the mayor on a bad night.

Warnings: Reader gets harassed, but its not a threatening kind of harassment. Hank’s just annoying and you can handle it.

~~~

“Hank, go home.”

“But love! - love, stop wiping down the tables. St- Stop it. I- I’m trying to profess my love to you baby!” The man falters, as you continue to finish wiping off a table and move on to the next empty one to take the empty glasses. “Come, come on… “

“No time, Hank.” You roll your eyes, getting back behind the bench, putting the glasses by the sink and, just as the man raises his finger as if asking to talk again you drop down to your knees to grab a new rag. “Very busy!”

“Honey, I love you!”

“So, so, busy!” For god’s sake, Hank! Get the hint!

“But! -“

“Excuse me Hank, thank you. Y/N, rum if you please?”

Hank looks unsure, stepping back and letting Mayor Buckman sit down in the stool he was blocking as you get up and flash the harasser a ‘Oh, what can I do???’ kind of smile and shrug combo. Hank looks at the mayor, looking almost defeated. He’s been up to this business all day, it’s about time he gives up! “Mayor!”

“Coming right up, Mr Mayor.” Quickly turning to get the bottle off the shelf and a clean glass, you ignore whatever Hank’s now doing for a moment. You’re sure he’s looking wounded again and mopey but that’s not really your problem, now is it? Finishing up pouring a nice big pint for the mayor, you turn around and see both men doing the exact same thing- the picture of vanquishment. Two sad sacks sitting side by side with their elbows on the bench. Hank, holding his pounding head and Buckman rubbing his eyes.

It honestly makes you want to laugh a little bit; But, you’re a professional. And as bartender, you are also the town therapist.

“Your rum.” You set down the drink in front of Buckman and he quickly wraps his hands around it, dragging it towards him. Staying busy, you start washing the dirty glasses from before with no need to plan your next movements table-wise. You’ve been doing this for years, so you have a system. In a moment, you’ll hit tables 2, 4 and 6 to ask if the parties there need refills, then see off tables 7 and 5 who were just having dinner and then have nothing much to do since all the parties are going to need are refills from then on.

So plenty of drunk therapy time.

Drying the glasses, you turn around back to the bar to see Hank drop his face into the wooden bench and Buckman finish his drink and push the glass back, tapping the rim for more. Well, I know whats wrong with Hank… Sighing, you tilt your head at him. “What’s up, Mr Mayor? Paperwork getting you down again?”

“No… “He rubs under his nose. “Just… ah… women troubles, I suppose… “Buckman rolls his eyes

Hanks sits up straight, pouts with a splinter in his nose and hits the bench. “Talk to me about it, brother.”

“Calm down there Hank.” You deadpan, before tapping your nose and looking meaningfully at him and returning to your mayor as Hank finds for the splinter and winces. Your furrow your eyebrows sympathetically to Buckman as you put down the glass you were drying and pour him more rum. “Sorry to hear that sir. Granny Boone and you are having trouble?”

“Nothing that we haven’t always had.”

… Oh.

OH. Oh.

You clear your throat, trying not to give anything away to Hank who’s listening. You know all about Boones lover; you should have known it was about her. The lady comes in here every now and then to drink and she let slip once about what’s going on between the 3 of them, and it was big news for you to hear - still is, actually, -, your jaw nearly hit the floor when she said it, but you moved on. Such is your creed as a barkeep; Besides, that was definitely not the craziest, and most certainly not the most horrible secret, that you’ve ever had the misfortune of hearing about in this post.

“Uhm, you mean, the other woman?” Buckman’s eyes blow open and he opens his mouth to shut you up as Hank raises an eyebrow in surprise and curiosity. You wink and smirk when Hank is looking at Buckman instead of you, leaning on the bench and hoping he gets the hint. “Theodosia? Your perfect purebread? Gorgeous, silky black main?”

Hank makes an ‘Oh’ face and nods; That makes more sense, doesn’t it? A horse. Horses are always getting between wives and their husbands. And its not a surprise at all that, with a horse like Theodosia, Buckman would show favouritism. Right?

Hm. I’m so clever.

Feeling Hank calm down beside him, Buckman relaxes also and looks at your cautiously, cradling his glass again. “Yeah, Boone just doesn’t get a man’s relationship with his horse. There ain’t nothin’ I can say to explain it to her.”

You shrug, getting out a glass and holding it out to Hank, raising your eyebrows. He nods and smiles widely at you, so you pour him some rum as well and slide it over to him. “Well, I myself don’t understand your predicament truly- I mean, I’m not involved. But I am sorry for it.” What do you say in a situation like this? ‘Tough break, bro’? “Sucky, truly, ah…” Nope, that’s worse. “Sucky… “Don’t say it again! “Uhm, I mean… Tough… tough break, bro?”

Oh my god.

You take a deep breath and compose yourself, holding the bar. When you open your eyes to give Buckman a half smile so he knows its okay to laugh at you, you’re surprised to see he doesn’t look ready to make fun of you at all. He’s looking at you rather kindly, actually- maybe not like he feels much better about his situation because of your words, but maybe like the effort you made was cute.

Smiling, he pats your hand. “I appreciate the effort, Y/N.”

You grin brightly back. “No problem!”

Hank looks between the two of you a couple times, mouth setting in a firm frown and a look of displeasure deeply creases his forehead. Leaning forward, he sticks himself right close to Buckman so their arms touch and he’s definitely within the little bubble you the Mayor found yourselves in. Buckman doesn’t move. “Hey Y/N.”

“Yes Frank?”

“Hank!”

Oh right! Rats. Back to life. Wake up, Y/N! That breaks you out of the moment. You turn and smile apologetically at Hank, pouting and just all around looking completely mopey about the situation. “Oh! Sorry Hank, haha. Another drink, is it?”

Damn the mayor and his cuteness- Because that’s all that was. A moment of appreciation.

You blow air out of your cheeks as you turn for the rum again without an answer from Hank, widening your eyes at the same time. Better be, at least…

“Uh, yeah, sure darlin’! And, to remind you sweetheart! -Of our date! Tomorrow! I made us plans I did, at Granny Boone’s bed and breakfast! We’ll have brunch- all fancy like. OH! Sorry, Mr Mayor, should I not talk about her?” You roll your eyes, laughing just enough that air puffs out of your mouth and your shoulders jump once at Hank’s lack of subtlety. Turning around, you even catch the boy looking wide eyed, with high concerned eyebrows at Buckman, grabbing his arm. Buckman’s giving him a pinched smile, peeling his hand off of him and assuring him its absolutely fine.

At least, you think. He’s not on Buckman’s lap anymore.

Or pulled the mayor up onto his lap. You make a sudden sour face, pouring rum yet again, and shudder. Ugh, you’ve been there, unfortunately. Its not the most pleasant place to be. Or maybe that extra lump was just for me… God almighty Y/N, stop thinking about Hank’s lump, it’ll give you nightmares.

“Here you go, Hank.” Crossing your arms on the bench on leaning on them, you wink. “And don’t you worry; There’s no need to get all to get all bent outta shape over George- I’m just, appreciating the view.”

Hank’s mouth drops open and at your use of the mayor’s first name, jumping to conclusions that you knew he would, making you start to laugh. But you grin and have to look away to protect your face - your blush, -, at Buckman’s reaction to your words. Your, what could be, possibly, if you s q u i n t, flirt. His eyebrows have risen in surprise, but there is nothing innocent about how he’s smirking. “’George’?!-“

Immediately you sober up, cutting off the flirty attitude before you lose yourself, or say something you, and Buckman would regret. You take a deep breath, yank your rag off your shoulder with a finesse the practise of something unbelievably mundane over and over gets you and head towards tables 2, 4 and 6. “And we’re not going on any brunch tomorrow Hank, Jesus. Get it together.”

#Mayor Buckman x Reader Drabble #Mayor Buckman x Reader #Drabble #Mayor Buckman #Granny Boone

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royallyprincesslilly · 5 years ago

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Title: Bet You Can’t {1}

Chris Evans x Uriah & Chris Hemsworth x Summer

Crossover-Collab Four-Part Miniseries

Warning: Cursing, Plot, Fun, and Games, Mild Raunchy Talk

Words: 2.2K

Summary: Uriah and Chris are happily married. A night of relaxing with your best friends Chris and Summer Hemsworth brings up “No Nut November.” Once you hear it, you know where it’s leading. IT was all jokes until somehow it turned serious. The Chris’ strike a full-on bet while dragging their better halves into the madness. The rules are simple, for the entire month of November none of you will have sex, none of you will get that nut in any way. Whichever couple makes it get bragging rights, and the 10k pool bet money. Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal and go on IG live to announce their failure. The bet is rigged though when Uriah and Summer decide to sabotage their husbands and make a side bet on who could make their husband fail quicker. All’s fair in love and war, and this is war.

Note: Got this idea from a group conversation with my friends, where a debate broke out about women being stronger and more able to survive NNN than men. It got me thinking, hmmm we know Chris has a dirty mind, dirty mind has to equal freak and always wanting to fool around.

It was too much fun working with @oceanscorazon a while back for her part one to out first collab titled Rumors & Waves. Look out for part two coming soon. I had to do it again. Thank you to the beautiful and phenomenal Amber @oceanscorazon for agreeing to this!!!

This will be a four part story to be posted one chapter a week to show what November is like for Chris and Uriah. @oceanscorazon will also write four parts to show that November is like for Chris and Summer.

***So for Chris and Uriah’s timeline, this is before the events of Rumor Has It.

🍁 🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁

“Oh my god, you guys are so dumb. I cannot even deal right now!”

You couldn’t contain your laughter. Perhaps it was you being at your utmost comfort level, or the fact you were genuinely having a great time or the insane amount of alcohol you’d consumed. Whatever it was, your ugly dork laugh had come out of hiding.

“Oh my god, the dork laugh has returned,” Chris teased, pointing at you from across the huge firepit. Everyone laughed louder as you narrowed your eyes at your husband.

“Oh shut up, you know you love my dork laugh.”

“I do, you’re right. I kinda have to though right, we’re married.”

“What are you saying?”

“Nothing, sweetheart, just it’s very suspect this laugh of yours didn’t emerge until we’d been married for a week.”

You all laughed harder, fully getting the meaning of his words.

“Oh, mate, are you really implying that you’d have had second thoughts marrying her if you’d heard the laugh before?”

Chris shrugged his shoulders with a smirk on his face before he finished his drink. Summer and Hemsworth roared out with “ohs.” You rolled your eyes at him.

“I’m kidding. I’m kidding. I don’t think anything could have stopped me from marrying her. It was inevitable,” Chris clarified, shooting an enamored smile your way.

“It was inevitable. From the night you got between these thighs, your fate was sealed,” you gibed. Again, you all laughed heartily.

“I agree with Riah; everyone saw how captivated you were once you met. We all placed bets on how long it would be until you married her,” Summer announced.

“Yeah, it was record-breaking time too,” Hemsworth slipped in.

You smiled at Chris, making your way around the firepit to sit on his lap. Chris wrapped his muscular arms around you and placed a kiss on your jawline. “When you know you know,” he finished.

“Aww, baby.”

Your lips met his in a sweet kiss, then turned passionate. Chris pulled you closer, and before anything could turn dirty you pulled back. You heard the low grunt that caught in his throat as he gave you a look that spoke of desire. You knew what was in store for you when you got home.

“You guys are so stinking cute. Five years and still acting like newlyweds,” Summer broke in as Hemsworth leaned over to kiss her temple as the words left her mouth. She smiled and turned to her husband and kissed him softly.

“Look who’s talking,” Chris quipped.

“Oh, can’t believe it’s the last of October already,” Hemsworth lamented with a groan.

You all knew what the end of October meant. It meant that you all were now just two months away from getting back to work from your vacations from filming. Hemsworth and Summer were set to get back into superhero mode with Marvel. You’d been signed to two new roles that were set to shoot back to back while you worked on your debut album in between all of it. Chris, on the other hand, was exploring and filming a few new roles since his departure from Captain America. The silence stretched as the threat of work hung in the air between the four of you.

“I saw something funny on Twitter the other day. There are a bunch of people posting about starting and participating in something called “No Nut November,” Chris began.

You and Summer groaned in unison as your eyes met. You knew what your best friend was thinking without a word.

Hemsworth cleared his throat in true Chris Hemsworth exaggerated jokester fashion then began. “Ah, I know this one. It’s when in November, people commit to not having sex.”

“It’s stupid. I never understood why anyone would do that?” Eyes went to you as you finished your bottle of beer. When you realized it you looked at the three of them “What? Sex is a natural, healthy and fun part of being human. Why would anyone want to get rid of it?”

Summer and Hemsworth laughed again.

“Guess we know what goes on behind closed doors now, huh Mrs. Evans,” Summer joked as her husband snickered with her.

“Hey, we’re adults, and we won’t be shamed,” Chris said coming to your defense.

“No shame at all, boo,” Summer piped up.

“I don’t’ see the big deal. I’d be able to handle it easy,” Summer’s husband added as she nodded right beside him.

You felt Chris’ grip tighten around your waist while his other hand dropped to squeeze the flesh where your upper thigh and ass met. His giant hand was blazing hot. Chris only got this hot when he’d gotten some drinks in him, and his body was turning the alcohol into fuel—but fuel for something else entirely. Your eyes locked onto his to see his teeth sink into his bottom lip. You smiled and mouthed, “behave.” He smiled and buried his face into your neck and teased the sensitive flesh there.

“Eh-em!” You turned to find Summer and co looking at you.

“Hm?”

“Guess we got our answer, you and Evans definitely wouldn’t make it. You’re both too weak,” Summer teased.

“Woah, woah, are we forgetting who was the one playing Captain America, the first strongest avenger?”

Everyone rolled their eyes. “Bro, you’re like an old quarterback who just won’t let go of his glory days. We get it sport, you were the best or one of them, but let’s not forget about who the actual god of thunder is,” Hemsworth gloated while flexing his muscle. You noticed Summer’s broad smile as she stared at her husband’s arm.

“I just don’t appreciate being called weak. My wife and I would more than be able to make it because we’re physically and mentally strong,” Chris professed, sitting up in his Adirondack chair. Your eyes dropped to him, trying to give him the signal to abort what he was saying because you saw where this was heading.

“Oh, so you think you’d be able to win this thing?” Hemsworth added.

The two of them always loved to goad each other. One time, Chris had goaded Hemsworth into a beer drinking match while you and Summer were left as the innocent bystanders watching your husbands act like children, then you had to be the ones to take care of them after they’d both surpassed their limits. It ended in vomit, and neither of you were happy, which finished with both of them being in the doghouse for several weeks. Another time Hemsworth goaded Chris into a surfing challenge knowing full well Chris was not a surfer. He grew up in Boston. That resulted in Chris getting stung by a jellyfish and Hemsworth having to pee on him. You and summer laughed your asses off but never heard the end of it from either of your husbands.

Then there was that time they both tricked each other into some whacky challenge to drive for an hour completely naked. That ended up with both of them getting pulled over by the cops who found it amusing and let them go, but they were then spotted by TMZ and ended up being on the show with the headline “Fast and Furious Streaking Chris’.” It was hilarious, but neither of them lived it down for several months. You and Summer knew this was about to get out of hand.

“Guys,” you began, but neither of them batted an eye to your but in into the conversation. They simply continued debating the issue of who had the mental strength to do it.

“Hello! We the wives have something to say,” Summer attempted. Her husband briefly looked to her then back to Chris.

“Hold on, baby, the men--husbands are in the middle of something.”

Summer’s jaw dropped, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You knew when they got like this, neither you or Summer would get a word in. You stood from Chris’ lap and walked over to the cooler where the drinks were with Summer following behind you. They didn’t even seem to notice.

The two of you stood there and watched your husbands, and loves of your lives continue on as if you weren’t even there. “This won’t end well,” Summer began.

“Oh, girl, I know.”

“Why must they always try to do this one up game?”

You shrugged because you honestly didn’t know what it was. It wasn’t a male thing because sometimes women got into it as well, but with men, it was on a whole different level.

“Remember when Chris dared Evans to hold that rattlesnake saying he’d held them hundreds of times?”

You and Summer snickered at the memory. Hemsworth hadn’t touched it but lied his ass off, and Chris fell for it and held it with no problem only when it was Hemsworth’s turn he chickened out, then Chris chased him around with it.

“For a man who lives in Australia, you’d think him, and the rattlers would be best buds,” Summer joked.

“Remember the time they got into a literal race on Sunset?”

Summer rolled her eyes. The four of you were going to dinner together. After leaving your house, Chris and Hemsworth got into a pissing match over who could run the fastest. It went on and on for the whole eight-mile car drive. When you’d gotten to Sunset both of them got out the car and raced down to the restaurant, leaving you and Summer to drive the vehicles there. When you arrived, it was decided that they’d tied, which led to talks of a rematch.

It was exhausting having them together, but it sure was great comedy. Suddenly both of them stood.

“It’s settled then,” Hemsworth said.

“Damn right it is,” Chris repeated. Both of them looked to you with huge smiles on their faces.

“We’ve decided that we’re participating in this No Nut November, and we’re going to win,” Hemsworth began.

You and Summer quickly spat out your mouthfuls of beer and gaped at your husbands. When neither of their smiles faltered, and neither spoke you and Summer looked to each other clearly thinking the same thing.

“What the fuck!?” It came out at the same time, and the confusion and shock you both felt clearly and precisely came across.

“No Nut November, for the entire month of November,” Chris began before you cut him off.

“I know what the hell No Nut November is Christopher. I’m not an idiot! What the hell do you mean we’re participating? Who decided that?”

“We did,” he informed, motioning between him and Chris.

“Oh, so you two are fucking each other?”

“Really, Summer?”

“That is the only way you two could come up and decide something that involves your wives as well,” Summer continued.

“Babe, we’ve got this. We’ve been married longer and have way more self-control than these two noobs,” Hemsworth slid in as he approached her.

“Hey! We have self-control!” Your outburst was not to defend this stupid idea; it was to defend you and Chris as a couple.

“Sure you do,” Hemsworth added with a snort. “Summer, it’ll be easy, like taking candy from a baby.”

“Whatever, you two are the ones who couldn’t keep your hands off each other during filming. Our godchildren were conceived because you couldn’t practice professionalism and control,” Chris dropped in. Your eyes bugged as did Summers.

“Wow, you went there, Evans? Really?” Chris shrugged his shoulders so matter of factly that you had no choice but to laugh.

“Really, Riah!”

“I’m sorry, I really am. You have to admit though, that was the perfect slide in. He read you both.” You did your best to stop smiling, but it was difficult.

“I say we take this bet and show them what winners look like,” Hemsworth added.

“Not a good idea,” Summer finished.

“We already have a bet Summer. The Evans’ will bring this home!”

“Whatever mate, the Hemsworths are going to claim this victory.”

“Rules are simple. For the entire month of November, neither of us will have sex. None of us will get any nut,” Chris explained as his eyes went from Summer to Hemsworth and then to you.

You and Summer were just stunned as to how this happened, especially with them completely ignoring what the two of you had to say about it.

“Whichever couple makes it gets bragging rights, and the pool bet money. I’m putting down five grand Summer, and I have this.”

“Well, I’m putting down five grand Riah, and I more than have this,” Chris countered.

You rolled your eyes and looked to Summer. She was still frozen, just watching her husband speak.

“Whichever couple doesn’t make it has to change their social media name to “Failed NNN” for a week and post/tweet as normal.”

“Easy. I’m gonna raise that bet, on top of changing your name you have to go on IG live and announce that you failed and lost to us,” Chris raised.

“Oh ho, deal!” Hemsworth and Chris shook hands and looked to the two of you. Again, neither you or Summer spoke. Your husbands walked off together, throwing themselves back into conversation as if they hadn’t just committed to a month of torture without consulting either of you.

“What just happened?”

“Girl, we just got fitted for and shackled with our chastity belts for November,” you informed.

“Ain’t that a--.” Summer started, as the two of you just stood there looking at the men you loved who’d just started yet another war with each other, which had the two of you dealing with the fallout.

“Bitch,” you finished.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

***If you want to be tagged please SEND AN ASK SO IT WILL BE EASIER FOR ME TO KEEP TRACK OF. Thank you for reading!!!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

TagList:

@chrisgalore @chaneajoyyy @rynabarnesrogers @disneysdarlingdiva @bellaamor88 @ab-baybay @sonjashuterbugjohnson @caramara3 @patzammit

#bet you can't fic #Chris Evans #Chris Hemsworth #chris evans fanfiction #chris hemsworth fanfiction #Chris Evans X black reader #chris hemsworth x black reader #chris evans x you #chris hemsworth x you #chris evans x reader #chris hemsworth x reader #no nut november

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vernonfielding · 5 years ago

Text

No pain no gain

Missing scene fic from Jimmy Jabs 2! This is shameless hurt/comfort (and some mild Jake/Amy Being Serious). Thank you to the lovely and super smart @fezzle and @feeisamarshmallow for the fantastic beta!! Title is more Bash Brothers (from Let’s Bash).

Read on AO3.

First, Amy runs up to Jake and throws her arms around his neck and kisses him soundly, right in front of the entire squad and the staff and the civilians mingling all around the bullpen. She kisses him until he’s breathless and she can feel the too-fast flutter of his pulse in his neck (which could be from the kiss or the adrenaline, impossible to know).

Second, Amy pulls back and grabs his hand and drags him up, arm circling his waist when he stumbles a little. She takes him straight down the garage, to their sensible and very boring Champagne-colored sedan, and drives him to the closest emergency room.

It’s busy for a weekday afternoon. Every seat is taken, mostly by people coughing behind surgical masks or clutching barf bags and sweating in a way that makes Amy’s own stomach turn a little. A woman in a chair just behind them is pressing a bloody towel into the palm of one hand. A little boy two chairs over has an icepack pressed to his nose and blood all over his white T-shirt.

The nurse at the registration desk glances up as Amy approaches with Jake. The nurse’s eyes flit down to the NYPD logo on their matching shirts and she says, “Injured in the line of duty?”

She’s holding a pen in one hand, poised over a clipboard, and Amy knows her answer now will determine the rest of their day: If Jake was hurt on duty they get a free pass back to the ER. If she says Jake was competing in the Nine-Nine’s version of American Gladiators-

“Yes,” Amy says. “My husband was on duty. He fell.” It’s not really a lie.

The nurse hits a buzzer, and five minutes later Jake’s in a bed, plastic wristband on one arm and blood pressure cuff on the other. The adrenaline’s fully kicked in and he’s gone all pale and sweaty, his blood pressure is alarmingly high, and he can’t stop fidgeting when the nurse tries to put an oximeter clip on one finger. Amy feels a twist of guilt in her gut and chews on a thumbnail.

+++

Amy loves Jake. Full stop. No reservations, no conditions, no exceptions. She loves every part of him -- his kind and generous heart, his ridiculous curls and goofball grin, his exceptional detective brain and his remarkably robust digestive system (given his eating habits). She loves his recent addiction to corn nuts, and she loves that his new favorite beverage is boba tea from the shop around the corner from their apartment. She loves that he didn’t learn the months of the year until he was 12 and that he activates his animatronic fish at least once a week, just to make sure it’s still “alive.”

She loves that he’s going to be the father of her child. She knows he’ll be incredible -- she feels it in her heart and her bones and her blood and and her brain and all the spaces in between.

(And she still really, really loves his butt.)

But damnit if the man isn’t absolutely infuriating sometimes.

“So, what happened here?” says the doctor, pushing aside the curtain at the foot of Jake’s bed. The doctor is very tall and her hair is pulled into a tight braid that falls halfway down her back. Amy’s glad she prepared for this moment.

“My husband fell out of a ceiling,” she says, throwing just the right amount of sheepishness into her tone. “Also, I used an EpiPen on him.”

The thing is, this is almost too easy, striking the right balance between telling the truth and fudging the embarrassing details in these situations. Amy smiles pleasantly at the doctor when she raises a questioning eyebrow.

“What is he allergic to?” the doctor says, looking between Amy and Jake.

“Bees,” Amy says, “but he wasn’t stung. I had to give him the adrenaline so he could break down a door.”

“I see,” the doctor says, though clearly she doesn’t. But she refrains from asking follow-up questions, which is all that matters. “You know that’s not really how EpiPens work.”

Amy does not tell the doctor that, in fact, the EpiPen worked exactly as they’d hoped. Instead she shrugs and says, “We didn’t have a lot of other options.”

“Well.” The doctor frowns and looks Jake up and down, and makes a note on the tablet she’s carried in with her. “Let’s take a look.”

The nurse who got him settled took off Jake’s sweatshirt, but he’s otherwise still in his tactical uniform, boots and all. Amy notices there’s a bruise blossoming along his jawline and another high up on his forehead. It’s amazing that he didn’t get any cuts or badly broken bones when he fell, but she suspects his ribs are bruised, at least. She hopes it’s nothing more serious, and she recalls one morning years ago, when he came to work the day after hurting himself so badly after chasing a perp through traffic and falling through the open sunroof of a car. He’d insisted to everyone that he was fine, when he clearly wasn’t; at the time, Amy had brushed it off as typical Jake: brash, impulsive, foolish and still weirdly endearing.

She would have said earlier today that Jake wasn’t like that anymore -- that he wouldn’t participate in the Jimmy Jabs, of all things, if he was truly injured. But after everything that he’s said and done today, she’s not sure that’s the case. And anyway, she was pushing him, telling him they couldn’t lose their ridiculous (boring) car to a ridiculous bet in a ridiculous game.

Jake hisses when the doctor bends over and prods gently at his left side. She lifts his T-shirt and Amy winces at the mottled blue and purple bruising. His shoulder is similarly bruised, and swollen, and Jake can’t reach his arm up over his head when the doctor asks.

“I’d like to get some X-rays,” the doctor says. “How’s your head?”

“Hurts,” Jake says. He’s gritting his teeth and has wrapped an arm around his middle.

“Did you hit it in the fall?” the doctor says, taking a penlight out of her coat pocket.

“I don’t think so,” Jake says. The doctor shines the light in his eyes and Jake frowns but endures it. She asks his name, if he knows where he is and what year it is -- all the usual stuff.

“The headache is probably from the EpiPen,” the doctor says. “But we’ll keep an eye on it.”

+++

The doctor leaves and a nurse returns with a gown and offers to help Jake change. Amy says she’s got it.

“You’re a mess,” she says, quietly, as she takes off his shoes.

She helps him strip off his pants and they both pause to look over the bruised bumps on his legs. A particularly angry-looking lump the size of a baseball is forming on his right thigh, and when Amy brushes the spot with a finger the skin feels hot. Her eyes fill with tears and she blinks and looks away, tugging the pants off his feet when they get stuck.

“I’m sorry,” Jake says, so soft she hardly catches it.

Amy sighs and helps him sit up. She peels off the blood pressure cuff, and slides his T-shirt as carefully as she can over his stiff arms, up and over his head. She unfolds the gown the nurse left them and helps him pull it on, then takes a seat on the bed, at his hip.

“I’m not mad at you for getting hurt,” she says.

“I know I was being reckless-”

“Jake, last month you climbed onto an overturned wastebasket on top of a skateboard so you could hang the new curtains in our bedroom,” Amy says. “And you know what my first thought was, when I saw you up there like two seconds from falling through the window?”

“That you married a moron?” Jake says glumly.

“No -- I thought you were right, that the teal stripes match our bedspread really well,” Amy says. “Don’t get me wrong, I also wondered why you hadn’t just climbed on a chair like a normal person. But I wasn’t mad about it, and I’m not mad about this now.”

Jake looks so relieved, his face going soft and smiley, that she almost feels bad when she takes his hand in hers and adds, “But I’m still pretty pissed that you bet the car. Our car.”

+++

Amy hated Jake for the first two weeks after she started at the Nine-Nine. After everything she’d been through at the Six-Four, Jake came across as just another fucking bro-cop, with his dumb, disarming smile and flirting with witnesses and constant boasting about his detective skillz-with-a-Z. He never crossed any lines with her, but she didn’t peg him as an ally, either.

Then he’d said something, something that should have been totally ordinary but wasn’t.

A man in a suit had walked up to Jake’s desk in the middle of a quiet afternoon, just Jake and Amy and Rosa in the bullpen, and he’d said, “What’s up with all the chicks working here, dude?”

Jake, who’d been leaning far back in his chair, feet up on his desk, eating a microwave burrito for lunch, had said without pause, “Dude, they’re women, and they’re detectives. Now go away.”

They’d never found out if the man was a witness or a lawyer or there to report a crime -- he’d just stared at Jake for a moment, cheeks turned bright red, and walked right out. After that, everything sort of tilted a few degrees for Amy. Jake was still immature and boorish and flaky, but he also became someone she thought she could trust.

In the emergency room, Jake’s palm in her hand is clammy, and when she presses her thumb into his wrist she can feel his pulse still racing from the adrenaline shot, but maybe also because she’s made him anxious.

“I know, the bet was dumb,” Jake says, but Amy can tell by the edge of exasperation in his tone that he’s thinking they’ve been through this already and he thought they were good.

“Yeah, but you know what really pissed me off?” Amy says. “Hitchcock.”

“Hitchcock? You’re mad about Hitchcock?” Jake says. “But he’s always an ass.”

Amy sighs and pulls Jake’s hand into her lap. “I know, but this time you were kind of an ass too, babe. He was so dismissive toward me, and whatever, it’s Hitchcock. But you went right along with it, and that hurt. It really sucked.”

She can feel Jake’s gaze on her face, and Amy looks up to find him wide-eyed and appalled. She debated all day whether she should say something about how that had felt, because honestly, Jake is good. She doesn’t believe he needs to be reminded that women -- and especially his own wife -- should be treated with respect. But at the same time, she thinks he’d be pissed if he knew she was annoyed and not telling him.

It’s obvious that this particular hit has landed. He looks away from Amy and bites his lower lip, and she knows he’s feeling devastated. Literally nothing wounds Jake more than knowing he’s hurt or let down someone he cares about.

“Jake-”

“I am so sorry, Ames,” he says, eyes locked on the hand that Amy isn’t holding. “God, I’m such a jerk.”

“You’re not,” Amy says, and when Jake shakes his head, she adds, “I mean, okay, you were jerk-ish. But look, you were freaking out a little and not thinking clearly and it probably didn’t even occur to you how rude that whole conversation was.”

“That just makes it worse!” Jake says.

Amy frowns to herself, because- yeah, it kind of does. “Fine. You were a jerk.”

“And then you had to spend the whole day helping me win,” Jake says, “when you totally could’ve won the whole thing.”

“Well, obviously,” Amy says. “It should be noted that I had fun today, babe. I don’t get to goof around like that as much as I used to, and you know how much I love a competition.

“It’s just- I would have preferred to skip the Jimmy Jabs entirely and go to my seminar.”

Jake winces. “Yeah, I’m the worst.”

Amy laughs at that, because it’s so far from the truth. “Jake, I love you, so much. But you’re not perfect. You’re allowed to make mistakes, even kind of shitty ones.”

“Ames-”

“Also,” she says, talking over him, “I stabbed you with an EpiPen so you could win the world’s dumbest obstacle race. I think that makes us even.”

Which is exactly when their nurse reappears.

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear any of that,” she says, and helps Jake into a wheelchair to take him for X-rays.

+++

Nothing is broken, and Jake’s head is fine.

The doctor makes them wait around awhile anyway, and after five hours in the ER the adrenaline is finally wearing off and the pain pills are kicking in and Jake is dozing. Amy sits in a chair one of the orderlies brought in, filling out crosswords, and secretly she’s loving all of the uninterrupted downtime.

It’s long past dark by the time they’re free. Jake shuffles to the car and it’s obvious he’s still in a lot of pain despite the Norco. He grunts as he falls into the passenger seat and Amy helps him with the seatbelt when he struggles to reach across his own chest.

Amy sends him straight to bed, and while the soup is heating up she texts Terry that Jake won’t be in the next day. She thinks he’ll be okay at home alone, but wonders if she should use a sick day too. Except they really should be saving those up now.

Jake’s passed out again when she carries dinner to the bedroom. She sets the bowl of soup and the glass of orange soda on his bedside table and nudges him awake. He’s still pale and his eyes are red with exhaustion, blinking up at her slowly, and she swears more bruises have bloomed on his face in the 15 minutes since she saw him.

“I’m a mess,” Jake says, and she thinks he’s deliberately echoing her words from earlier. He sounds tired and pathetic.

She sits beside him on the bed and runs a hand through his hair, nails scratching a little against his scalp. Jake’s eyes flutter closed, and she leans forward and kisses each eyebrow, and the outer corners of his eyes, and the tip of his nose. She kisses him on the mouth. His lips are chapped and the stubble on his cheeks tickles her own smooth skin.

Amy pulls back and Jake opens his eyes, looking up at her with something like wonder.

“You are,” she says. “But you’re my mess. And I wouldn’t change a thing.”

#b99 fic #missing scene #jimmy jabs 2 #jake peralta #amy santiago #jake/amy #hurt/comfort

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ollie-oxen-free · 5 years ago

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Can you write a shit post with twist? Or something fluffy and cute?

oh i ABSOLUTELY can ( @itsladykit for you, on your hiatus)

tags: fluff, twist’s knitting circle

________________

The house that had been on the invitation was small but well kept. There was a garden of flowers- hearty types from what he remembered from what his bro had told him over the years- about a dozen different colors lining the sidewalk that led to the porch. Twist heaved the bag over his shoulder higher, adjusting the strap as he glanced back down at the crumpled paper in his hands. The address matched, so he was certain it was the right place, especially since there were a few cars parked on this side of the street in front of the house.

The door was a pale yellow, set in the brick walls of the home, and he took in a deep breath before he rang the doorbell. The chime sounded through the house and he pulled his hand away, adjusting his bag once more. Footsteps came towards the door and there was the sound of a lock sliding out of place before the yellow door swung in on its hinges.

Standing in the doorway was an older woman, peering up at him through tortoiseshell glasses. She looked at him suspiciously, brow furrowed. “Can I help you, young man?”

Twist smiled at her, trying to make himself seem smaller, aware of how threatening he might seem to a senior whose head barely reached the bottom of his sternum. “Are ya... “ He pulled the paper out of his pocket, wishing he’d bothered to memorize the information better. “Sandra? Sandra Dashlend?”

She looked at the paper in his hands and her eyes widened. The lenses of her glasses, thick, made her eyes seem much larger than they really were. “Oh. Are you here for the group?”

There were crow’s feet beside her eyes, wrinkles fading into deeper lines as she smiled. Twist shifted his weight to his other foot. “If yer fine wit’ me comin’ in.”

She stepped to the side, opening the door wider. “Of course! We’re always happy to have more people join us!”

Twist waited to see if she would change her mind, but when she didn’t he stepped in, turning to watch her shut the door behind them. The house smelled faintly of vanilla and cheap perfume. Sandra hobbled past him, a slight limp in her gait. “Come this way, dear! Everyone else is in the other room.”

Twist followed, gaze flicking around the room. On one wall a large dresser stood, the glass doors closed, displaying fine china behind the shelves. When he walked into the room behind her, all eyes turned to him. He smiled and waved, gently. Despite the curious stares and shocked looks, there was no real hostility. Even if there was, Twist wasn’t sure it would amount to much. He didn’t really get how humans themselves aged, but he was pretty sure that no one in the room was under 60.

Sandra walked around the circle of chairs, sitting down in one of the empty ones and picking up the knitting she had set to the side. “Feel free to sit anywhere, dear. We won’t bite! Most of our dentures aren’t that strong.”

A few of the women chuckled at that, the gentle clicks of their working filling the room. Twist looked at the chairs haphazardly set in a circle, deciding to pick the one closest to Sandra. He set his bag down and pulled out his yarn, just some cheap stuff he’d bought at the store when he decided to pick up the habit at the other’s prompting.

(“Something that keeps your hands busy helps, something repetitive and calming,” they’d said, though he was certain they didn’t exactly have knitting in mind. Then again, he enjoyed doing the exact opposite of what most expected.)

“So,” one of the women said, “what’s your name?”

Twist glanced up at her as he set the craft he’d been working on- just a scarf, really, nothing too fancy- in his lap, taking up both of the needles. “‘S Twist.”

They went around the circle after that, stating their own names. Twist ended up forgetting most of them after they were done.

He took the needles, checking his last stitch before starting to loop a new one, continuing on with his threading. Chatter started back up again, chats about whose children were doing what or pets or recipes. When Twist heard his name he looked up at one of the women across from him, her knitting held up. A small sock was hanging from the needles as she worked, small enough for a child. “Yeah?”

“Where do you work? I doubt you’re old enough to be retired.”

He hummed, focusing on the turn of yarn before he answered her. “Uh. Odd jobs, I s’pose? Repairs n’ muscle work n’ all that.”

That sparked a conversation among the others, one of the women- Cathy, maybe? Or Joanne?- detailing a story that he reminded her of, about how her ex husband had tried to do their own electrical wiring and ended up having to call someone to fix it at twice the price it would have been otherwise. Twist snorted when she was done, turning onto the next row.

In the other room, a timer went off, and Sandra stood quickly. “The cookies are finished. Would anyone like some coffee?”

A few hands went up, and Twist raised his own.

By the time the club was over, Twist had finished his scarf and had a new pattern for another project.

#my writing #twist #fluff #500 followers #okay so heres what happens:#twist is driving one day and sees one of the ladies broken down on the side of the road #and he fixes her car for her #and the story gets around and then all of a sudden twist is the adopted grandchild of a bunch of old women #he gets freshly baked goods and knitted items all the time #kit i will give him love since you are incapable of doing so

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otherluces · 5 years ago

Text

Luces’ 2019 Fanfic Round-up

I might do an end-of-the-year thing reflecting on the year in my personal life and Tumblr life, too, but first I’m going to do a masterpost of the stuff I wrote this year because I’m all about that shilling your creative works life. I suppose this is kind of a writing version of those year-end posts that artists do, giving their favorite or best pieces from each month.

March 2019: I ran the first annual @clenny-week from March 25-31, 2019, and although I wasn’t able to do a fic for each day, I managed to complete 4/7 prompts. I thank everyone who participated in that week, and I hope to see you for Clenny Week 2020. ^^

Santa Daddy - Clyde/Kenny - Rated M - The main four are back in town for winter break and Cartman challenges Kenny to sit on the mall Santa’s lap (and ask for a dirty gift). The mall Santa happens to be Clyde, who had a crush on Kenny in high school.

Pinot Noir - Clyde/Kenny - Rated T - Clyde is nervous as he and Kenny go out on their fifth date, as he's decided to finally confess that he has a ten year old daughter.

The Princess of Mischief - Clyde/Kenny - Rated T - Princess Kenny has been captured by the Dark Lord Clyde. Everything was going according to plan...until an unexpected visitor makes Clyde break character.

I’ll Always Be Here - Clyde/Kenny - Rated M - It's the one year anniversary of Kenny's death, and Clyde is not coping well. Meanwhile, in Hell, Kenny is given a special Deathday wish candle by Satan, allowing him to make a wish that is guaranteed to come true. He wishes to spend one more day with his husband.

August 2019: This year, the South Park fandom on Tumblr really blew up with theme weeks! The upside to this is that people are taking charge of their favorite ships/characters, especially underrated ones, and using the platform to try to bring together others who enjoy those. The downside is that the more weeks there are, the more overlap there is, and people have to pick and choose which to do. Also, there can be burn-out. I felt a lot of writing burn out after Clenny Week, and I didn’t really write anything publicly for the majority of the spring/summer. (I’ll get into what I mean by “publicly” later.) @tweekweek and @clydeweekis-canon both got me out of my writing funk a little bit, as I managed to write two one-shots that allowed me to explore concepts/characters that I don’t use often.

Tweek’s New Project - Tweek/Craig (but NOT the focus) - Rated T -When the stress of life and work get to be too much, Tweek likes to retreat to his den where he can work on arts and crafts and practice mindfulness and meditation. He is particularly excited about this new project, and waiting all day to work on it is torture.

Tell Me I’m Pretty - Bebe/Clyde - Rated T - Bebe Stevens always presents herself with confidence and style, but even the strongest of women can break sometimes. Clyde thinks she’s perfect, no matter what.

October 2019: In October, I finally published the fic I wrote for the first zine I participated in, South Park: Growing Up. I wrote this story at the very beginning of 2019, the zine was sold digitally in March 2019, and then I didn’t write or Tumblr much after that. ^^()

Snow Is Hell - General - Rated G - Snow. Poets and artists and songwriters of Christmas songs may try to convince people that it's always pure, fluffy, and delightful, but those who live where snow is commonplace know the truth. A field of freshly fallen snow is not “a marshmallow world”. It's a battlefield. At least it is for the children of South Park, Colorado. A Saturday morning of peacefully playing in the snow, making snowmen and sledding, can quickly devolve into a battle for school yard supremacy.

December 2019: December means the holiday season, which means holiday themed fanfiction. This year, I was able to finish a WIP from 2018 that I had started for @cryde-week, and I participated in @craigandthoseguys-week Secret Santa event, writing a D&D themed one-shot for @nokoikoi-draws.

Your Voice - Clyde/Craig - Rated M - At his company Christmas party, Craig watches Clyde's co-workers surprise him by showing him they've learned ASL so they can better communicate with him. Feeling ashamed (and a little jealous) that he's never learned ASL despite having a mute boyfriend who uses it, Craig decides to spend the year taking classes so that he can surprise Clyde with it next Christmas.

Dungeons and Flagons (of Cocoa) - Craig/Tweek (but not the focus) - Rated T - It's Christmas Eve and the adults are all out at some boring Christmas party. Clyde is bored, so he invites his best bros over for a Christmas-themed D&D one-shot campaign.

Ongoing fics: Sooo...this year wasn’t great for my ongoing fics. ^^() Back at the end of January, it had been one year since I had started Dumb Boys, I had 12 chapters completed, and I stated that I wanted to focus on it more so that I could do better than a one-chapter a month average. That didn’t happen. ^^() Also I had started a multi-chapter Creek band AU at the end of 2018, but then didn’t update for months. So in 2019, I managed to update two new chapters to the band AU over the summer, and three chapters to Dumb Boys. Needless to say, I neglected my children. =/

Dumb Boys - Clyde/Kenny - Rated E - It's senior year at Park County High and Clyde Donovan is ready to cement his legacy as the number one guy in the school. He's already one of the school's football stars so it shouldn't be difficult, except that Kenny McCormick, the lead snare drummer for the marching band, seems to be taking that spot without even trying. In order to determine once and for all who is the top guy, Clyde decides to challenge Kenny to a contest of who can have sex with the most people in a semester.

He’s With the Band - Tweek/Craig - Rated E - Tweek is the lead singer for the up-and-coming band Humble Folx, but when he's not performing on stage, he's somewhat reclusive, and he always refuses to join his bandmates in interviews. Craig Tucker is a 23 year old music journalist who can't quite catch a break. He's hung up on his ex and his career at Treble and Bass magazine isn't headed in any real direction. That is until he's offered the chance to go on tour with Humble Folx and get the exclusive interview with Tweek.

Unpublished fics (aka fics for fanzines): In addition to “Snow Is Hell”, I also wrote fics for two other fanzines over the summer. (I had to focus what little writing energy I had on them, which is why my ongoing fics were so neglected.) I wrote “Duality” for the Creek zine @adealandadevilzine, which if anyone has the digital copy and has read the fic, I hope you enjoyed my attempt at writing high fantasy. Hard copies should be going out in the spring, so once we get the okay, I’ll be putting it on AO3, so expect a lot more shilling then. I also wrote two fics for the upcoming @crennynationzine (follow for more info!), a sfw story called “The Games We Play” and a nsfw follow-up/sequel called “A Two Player Game”.

WIPs: Finally, I’m going to mention a handful of fics I started this year and will hopefully finish at some point in my lifetime. ^^() “Getting His Just Desserts” is a fic I started for @bottomcraigweek with like 5 Craig ships involved. “The Long Haul” is a Twyde fic where Clyde is a truck driver and Tweek is a server at a roadside diner. “Chicken Soup for the Eldritch Soul” is a Clenny fic where Clyde makes chicken soup for a sick Kenny...but doesn’t notice the body horror going on in the background. “Dr. Craig’s Miracle Tonic” is a nsfw crackfic where Dr. Craig is able to cure his patients with the power of his penis. Finally, I wrote like 300 words for “Born to Run”, the Natural Born Killers AU Creek fic I’ve waxed poetic about for two years.

Total words written in 2019 (not including unpublished works): 53,901

#writing stuff #2019 fanfiction #end of year #my writing #south park #south park fanfiction

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lilacmoon83 · 5 years ago

Text

Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 203: A Grand Deception

David parked the car and hurried out toward the field. He was slightly late, but fortunately their was still a lot of game left and he spotted his wife and daughter in the stands. He watched Margaret's eyes light up upon seeing him and felt his heart flutter. It always did when he saw her and she was near. She had confessed that hers did the same and it was the most remarkable feeling either of them had ever experienced.

"Hey...sorry I'm late," he said, as he leaned down and kissed her.

"You're just in time," she replied, as he sat down beside her and pulled her into his arms. They smiled at each other and shared another kiss. They got a few side eyes from other parents, but that was nothing unusual.

They had always known they were different from many other couples and the honeymoon faze had never ended for them. She rested her head against his shoulder, as they watched the game.

"Oh...he's got the ball…" Summer called, as they watched their son with bated breath. Bobby made his move toward the goal, weaving through the other players and took his shot. The ball sailed passed the goalie and into the net. They were on their feet, cheering loudly and the game went along, with their son dominating, quickly impressing his coach with clear, athletic prodigy.

Soon, they were down to the final seconds of the game and Bobby was making his way down the field with some more incredible footwork.

"He's amazing…" Margaret gushed.

"Well...he is ours," David agreed, as they held each other and cheered, as their son stunned the crowd, fellow players, and his coach by making another goal with a fancy flip shot to kick the ball into the goal. The ball sailed passed the goalie again and this time, actually made a hole in the net.

"Wow...what a kick!" David cheered for their son.

"Oh...he's amazing. I guess our daughter isn't the only one with athletic ability," Margaret gushed, as she put her arm around their daughter. Summer looked down shyly. Her parents never missed an opportunity to brag about either of them.

"Someone should really tell baby bro that he's not actually supposed to put a hole in the net though," she joked.

"My my...that was quite the goal, I believe it is? I'm afraid I'm not much on sports," a new voice said, as Margaret turned to find Dr. Jenkins there, observing the game.

"Oh...Dr. Jenkins, what a surprise," Margaret said. He smiled.

"I know, I thought I should finally take the advice of my other colleagues and get out of the lab for a bit for some fresh air and see what all the fuss is about. These sports functions certainly draw quite the crowd, which translates to funding for the school, after all," he said. She nodded.

"So...that is your boy there?" he asked. She nodded proudly, as her son had the ball again, causing her daughter and husband to start cheering for him. He scored again in the final seconds and they cheered loudly together. Dr. Jenkins watched the man with his new colleague pick her up and spin her around, as they cheered. He felt a stab of jealousy, as he stared at the raven haired beauty. He had found her to be simply remarkable in both beauty and skills as an educator. He did not find that often and had been simply enthralled by her ever since their earlier introduction.

"He is killing it!" David cheered and she chuckled at his enthusiasm, before noticing the doctor again.

"Oh baby...this is the head of the science department here, Dr. Jenkins," Margaret introduced, as David shook his hand.

"Dr...this is my husband, David," she said.

"Nice to meet you," David said.

"Likewise…" the doctor said in a tight voice.

"But you can call me Ian," he corrected. David nodded, as his attention went back to their son

"My...he has quite a grip. Is your husband an athlete as well?" Ian asked.

"No...but that is definitely where our children get their athletic ability. I can barely run in a straight line," she joked.

"But actually David is with the Federal Bureau of Investigation," Margaret replied.

"That's...impressive and explains the muscles," he muttered, but fortunately Margaret took his comment as a joke and chuckled.

"He's my hero," she said, glancing at him with a dreamy stare, which gave the doctor another pulse of envy. He knew he wasn't much to look at and had never been one to have women falling all over him. But his intellect had drawn a few his way, more than some might think, as some women found his brains to be very attractive. But it never worked out. While it was his genius that drew them to him, it was also his genius that eventually drove them away. He was obsessive, in both work and relationships, and eventually poisoned any romance. Usually once the newness died down, his obsessiveness with work left anyone else in his life neglected and the few that had been able to keep his attention were eventually driven away by his same obsessiveness when it was directed upon them.

Margaret seemed to be different though. She was not only incredibly fair, quite possibly the most beautiful woman he had ever set eyes on, but her intellect put her on a tier above any others he had ever known. He was surprised she didn't have her own doctorate and suspected that the man next to her was responsible for holding her back. With any luck, working together would make her realize how much potential she was wasting on "family life".

Bobby sprinted over to them finally, having been smothered with accolades by his teammates for basically winning the game for them and Margaret hugged him excitedly.

"Oh honey...you were so great!" she gushed, as she kissed his cheek.

"Mom…" he complained in embarrassment, as his father put his hands on his shoulders and congratulated him as well.

"We're so proud of you," David said.

"Yeah...but you do know that you're just supposed to get the ball in the net and not through it," Summer teased. He shrugged.

"Guess I don't know my own strength," he joked back and then looked at his parents.

"I guess some of the parents are taking their kids out for pizza and they asked us if we want to go. Can we?" Bobby asked. They smiled at each other and then back at him.

"Sure...that sounds fun and you're probably starved," Margaret said, as she noticed her colleague still loitering awkwardly. She kind of felt bad for him, for he seemed so lonely and awkward in social situations. But if she was being honest, he kind of unnerved her too. He seemed kind and interested in working with her, so she naturally chided herself for those feelings. Still...something in the back of her mind told her to keep this man at arm's length.

"Well...I suppose I will see you tomorrow, Margaret. Have a lovely evening," he said, as he walked away.

"Ready?" David asked, as he put his arm around her. She smiled at him and they walked to the car with their kids, unaware of the doctor's gaze on them.

~*~

Fandral walked through the portal and it closed behind him. They had concealed a chamber behind a bookcase in the library to use as their secret way of transporting to Bald Mountain when needed. In his considerable years, Fandral had seen rulers like Seth before and perhaps if he wasn't so childlike at times, they would have had a harder time building their resistance under his nose.

His power was nothing to balk at, as he could break bones and turn minds to mush with just a thought. But he was petulant, impulsive, and easily distracted. Though he may have been thousands of years old, he seemed stunted with a teenage mentality.

In many ways, it made him more dangerous than a wiser tyrant might be. But these character flaws had become of much use to them in their manipulations. Charming took full advantage of Seth's shortsightedness and Fandral's tactical genius in the art of war had become invaluable as well.

Charming easily distracted the supreme ruler with flashy shows of power, almost daily faux executions that were always a grand show, and a multitude of other distractions. Still, the subterfuge was taxing and weighed heavily on them both, especially since they knew Mephisto was getting increasingly suspicious of them and knew he would blow them all out of the water if he could. They had discussed neutralizing him, but did not yet have a plan to do so yet. They both knew though that it was their beloved wives that truly kept them from losing their minds and their hope in all this.

As the bookcase slid aside and allowed him to exit the small chamber, a genuine smile came to his face. As usual, she was an absolute vision. She sat in a comfy chair, her hair in a messy braid and draped over her shoulder. She was buried in a book, as he often found her, with her shoeless feet folded up beneath her skirt.

"You're staring again," she cooed playfully to him without looking up from her book.

"How can I not when the most beautiful woman in all the realms is before me?" he retorted, as he leaned down and she tugged him down by the collar until their lips met in a tender, passionate kiss.

"You seem a bit stressed, my love. More than usual," she mentioned, as she shifted so he could sit with her in the oversized chair. He pulled her into his lap and kissed her again.

"Midas has joined the ranks of the resistance," he mentioned.

"And his loud mouth has given you quite the headache," she said knowingly.

"Abigail must be beside herself. Is there no way we can tell her what's really going on?" Rose asked.

"Charming thinks it's too risky. Having Midas there is almost too risky, but it was better than the alternative and letting Mephisto actually kill him," Fandral answered.

"He is a boisterous fool, but I think if he realizes the dangers to Abigail if he doesn't cooperate, then I'm sure he'll watch himself," Rose reasoned. He nodded.

"We think so too," he agreed, as he pressed a kiss to her hair.

"I'm just happy that we remember everything...or that you do and woke me up," she mentioned, as she looked at him fondly.

Once the curse had hit, Fandral discovered that he had retained his memories and though they had no idea why, they chalked it up to him being Asgardian. When Charming realized he was still awake, he quickly clued Fandral in on his and Winter's plan for everything. It had given them an extra pair of allies they didn't know they were going to have. Fandral had worried that he wouldn't be able to let Rose in on the ruse, but since Seth was such a monumentally evil being, an entire field of pink poppies had sprouted around the base of Mount Olympus. Rumpelstiltskin had informed him that the poppies only grew in the presence of great evil and had the power to return memories.

So he had presented a bouquet to her that first morning after the curse was cast, kissed her, and awakened her to a world cursed. But he was glad he had her to take solace in.

"I worry about you so much, my love…" she expressed.

"I'm okay, my angel," he assured.

"If Seth were to discover what we are doing prematurely...I could lose you," she said.

"You will not lose me and Charming said that it might not be long now," he replied. She lifted her head from his shoulder to look at him.

"Really?" she asked. He nodded.

"Apparently, the doctor has found his way to Snow and we know his madness will create havoc," he replied.

"Once Snow and David awaken...they'll return and it will be time to break the curse and take Seth down," Rose said. He nodded.

"It will not be easy...if I'm honest, I'd rather you not be near the coming battle, but I know I also need you next to me," he confessed. She smiled and kissed him tenderly.

"I shall never be anywhere else," she said, as they got up and joined hands.

"Let's go tuck the twins in and go to bed," she suggested.

"Sleepy?" he asked in a teasing tone.

"Not yet...but I'm sure I'll be exhausted when you're done with me," she replied coyly.

"Oh I assure you...we both will be," he agreed, as they left the library for the evening.

~*~

Winter cuddled her granddaughter and the toddler cooed at her. It had been a wonderful day, at least after they had dealt with the messiness that required her husband to appear to be someone ruthless and evil. But that was not her husband. While he may have been the darker half of David Nolan Charming, he was not evil and she knew his duties for Seth often weighed heavily on him. He hid it well and his genuine smiles for their children and grandchildren kept them in the dark mostly about their dilemma. But their grown children and adult grandchild in Henry knew the alternative for their grandfather was frightening too and they did not have their true memories. In this life, no one refused the will of Seth. He ruled with an unrelenting iron fist, even if he was prone to childish tantrums and a sadistic whim. Charming knew how to handle him, appease him, and save most of their people from a much grizzlier fate than any of them knew.

For their children, they knew that their father was a good man, despite the things he had to do for Seth. They knew that he did those things for them and that they all had good and fairly peaceful lives, because of his dedication to protect them all.

Emma did not know she was the Savior anymore. They had used the curse to remove that burden from her and Winter knew it was one burden that her husband was happy to shoulder for her, even if it would only be for the duration of the curse. But she prayed it was almost over now. Rumpelstiltskin had informed them that Jekyll, though not yet awake, had managed to find his way to her counterpart's cursed self, Margaret Nolan. And she knew that in no time, his madness would awaken Snow and David. Then the battle for their very existence would begin.

She worried about him, so to see him smile with their children did much for her troubled heart. And she couldn't wait for the moment that Seth would pay for all of this. While her lighter half still would never advocate for revenge, Winter wanted it so badly on Seth that she could taste it. She wanted him to be turned to ash, which seemed impossible for a supreme Titan God like him, but she had been doing her research and had enlisted Rose and Belle's help in it as well. That's why she was reading this incredible boring old Tome about the ancient beings that existed around the time that Seth had been birthed into the world by his mother Rhea as the giant serpent Typhon. She was trying to find more clues on how to kill him versus simply just banishing him as Apollo and Artemis had done. So far though, she had nothing. Nothing except her youngest son using his star seed, but she absolutely refused to risk that. She was not losing Bobby. It was hard enough to be without him here, but at least she knew he was safe out there and happy in the Land Without Magic, free of any burden he would have with this on his shoulders.

Rumpelstiltskin was telling her continuously that her children were destined to face great evil, but Winter was intent on finding another way and Charming was insistent on shouldering the burden of taking Seth down from the inside, if possible. But for now, she had pushed the dusty old book aside and doted on her baby granddaughter.

Hope giggled and smiled up at her, making her cold heart melt and the tiny one played with her apple pendant. She didn't worry, for the pure power of the chalice inside her necklace would never harm such pure innocence and someone of their bloodline.

"Yes...you're Nana's sweet girl, aren't you?" She cooed.

"Are you sure you and Daddy don't mind watching her for the evening?" Emma asked.

"Are you kidding? You know we love it," Winter assured her, as Charming put his arm around her and the little girl cooed up at him.

"Yeah...there's Papa…" she cooed, as her husband took the baby in his arms.

"Okay, thanks...we shouldn't be too late," Emma said, as she and Killian left. They would probably go to dinner and then for a short ride on the Jolly Roger for a nice evening out.

"Come on sweetie...let's go to the nursery so you can see what Nana and Papa got you," Winter cooed and Emma rolled her eyes.

"They've gone and spoiled her rotten again," she pretended to complain. Killian chuckled.

"Aye love, but I believe that is what grandparents do," he reminded, as they left together for their date night.

~*~

Chemicals boiled at a full roar in the beaker and the glass clinked together, as Dr. Jenkins worked painstakingly through another experiment. He was certain he had the right formula this time, especially since he had managed to borrow a laboratory at Boston University from an acquaintance. He was using it during the wee hours of the morning so as to not be seen, in case this one went badly too. His experimentation would be considered madness, but he was certain that if he was successful, he could be on the cusp of a monumental breakthrough that would change the face to the mental health industry.

From an early time, Ian could remember dark and impure thoughts impeding his life. While he had always been brilliant and focused on his work, these dark and impure thoughts had negative consequences. He had left Great Britain shortly after he finished getting his first doctorate out of necessity.

At the school he had attended, he had fallen in love with the daughter of the dean in charge of the science department, but she had wanted nothing to do with him. After enough rejection to his pursuit of her, he had given into those dark and impure thoughts by assaulting her one evening. When he had come to his senses and realized what he had done, he had fled the country and changed his name to avoid being found.

He settled into America with his new identity and went onto complete his education with two more doctorates, but what had happened that night still haunted him.

The worst part was that he didn't really regret what he had done. He viewed her rejection as unfair and unjust. So many others found love, but never him and he didn't think that was right. He deserved love too and wanted to have it no matter what.

He was a smart man though and knew those dangerous thoughts would only lead to his incarceration, so he started experimenting on a way to rid himself of those bad impulses by experimenting with a serum that would be considered wildly unethical and dangerous by not only the scientific community, but the medical community as well. Still, if he could prove it could be done, he could purport a solution to violent criminals and mentally ill people, in theory anyhow.

So far though, his four experiments had been epic failures, resulting in some very unfortunate circumstances for the objects of his experimentation. They had, so far, all been students that had well known drug habits, which was lucky for him since he expected all the deaths to be ruled as accidental overdoses, but things were getting very risky, so he had decided to change his victim pool. Student deaths, though each one had been from a different college, was getting too suspicious.

Instead, he decided to resort to using transient people to experiment on. They were often known to be drug users and he surmised that no one would miss a homeless person. He was certain that he was close though and if he succeeded, then he would no longer be imbued with these monstrous thoughts and finally be liberated from the darkness. And he only hoped he could do it soon, for the thoughts in his head since he had met Margaret Nolan had been very lewd and inappropriate.

The fantasies were becoming very prominent in his mind. He kept imaging himself in a classroom with her and grabbing her arms. He imagined the fear in her eyes, as he forced her down onto her desk and took what he desired from her. He imagined her fear and her tears and it excited him. It was sick and twisted and if he were to avoid eventual incarceration for acting on any of these dark thoughts, he had to rid himself of these thoughts.

That didn't mean he wouldn't pursue Margaret in the meantime though. No, he only hoped that in absence of those dark thoughts, he would be able to seduce her away from her husband and claim her for his own. He knew it was a tall order. He wasn't a stupid man and had seen her husband, after all. He only hoped to appeal to her intellect. He didn't even know her husband, but he already loathed him. He knew the type. Handsome, charming, very fit and aesthetically pleasing. Probably treated her like a princess and righteously served the his agency in the pursuit of justice. The type to solve problems with his might rather than brain, or so he assumed.

Margaret was a rare woman though and he wanted her; he had to have her so that was why this experiment had to work.

He siphoned the serum into a vial and then filled a syringe, before leaving the lab to find the guinea pig he had set up for that evening's experiment. That required him to venture outside the science building and walk through the campus. Fortunately, that time of night, even most of the students were asleep and campus security thought nothing of seeing him, as he was here from time to time. He rounded the corner and found the man in the alleyway. He had given him food and water before and then promised that if he waited there, he would have a new drug that, while experimental, would give him a high like none other. And he was pleased to find the man still there.

"You...you have it?" the addict questioned. He was almost in full withdraw by now and shaking horribly.

"I do...it's your lucky night," the doctor said, as the man rolled his sleeve up. Dr. Jenkins was appalled by all the needle marks in the dirty man's arm. If it didn't work, he doubted anyone would miss such a cretin. He injected the man and waited with bated breath, as he began to convulse violently.

"This...this doesn't feel right…" he uttered, as he started seizing and then was holding his head in agony. He started screaming and stumbled away, as he fell and flailed wildly.

"The...the voices…" he screamed, as he held his head and climbed to his feet. He stumbled toward the street and right in front of a bus. Dr. Jenkins had watched the whole spectacle in a fury of disappointment and once the man was ended, he slipped away before the authorities could get there. He had failed once again and he was livid, but tomorrow was another day. Transient people were a dime a dozen and he was certain no one would bother with a deranged homeless drug addict. Tomorrow, he would find another test subject and he would keep doing so until he had success.

~*~

A vague chirping pulled him from a blissful sleep, as he held his beloved wife in his arms and he reluctantly rolled away from her to grab the offending device. Through bleary eyes, he managed to read the text from his boss and sighed, as he blinked to wake up. It was four in the morning, they had another body and he had to go.

"Mmm...baby?" Margaret cooed, as she noticed the absence of his warmth against her.

"Sorry...didn't mean to wake you, my darling," he whispered, as he kissed her hair.

"You have to go?" she asked.

"Afraid so," he replied, as he pecked her on the lips and got up to start getting dressed.

"Okay...please be careful," she pleaded. He smiled and leaned down to kiss her again.

"I will...go back to sleep. I'll call you when I can," he promised, as she drifted off to sleep again and he quietly left.

~*~

Nephilim

Mephisto angrily tromped around his realm. Since the curse, Seth had rebuilt his own palace on Olympus. It was large and golden, with statues of himself everywhere in true narcissistic fashion. That left Nephilim mostly barren, except for the souls of the dead and a few of his own demonic minions that were loyal to him. But Mephisto was not feared by mortals and heroes, nor was he regarded highly by the villainous. He had been thoroughly usurped by Prince Charming, Seth's Executioner and warrior of darkness, as well as his fair, little upstart of a wife, Winter. They were aptly feared, yet respected by most in the realms and regarded in high esteem.

When Seth threw a tantrum or wanted something, his right hand was there to appease his every whim and give their Lord what he wanted. But Mephisto knew manipulation when he saw it. He was a master of himself, after all.

He hated Prince Charming with a passion. He had always been a being full of malice and hatred, but none had pissed him off on a personal level quite so much as Prince Charming had. Not since Johnny Blaze anyway, whom he had cursed and been defied by time and again. Blaze had defeated him spectacularly and used the powers given to him by Mephisto for good, as sickening as it was. He had also killed Mephisto's unruly son as well, but all of that seemed to pale in comparison to the humiliation dealt to him by Prince Charming.

He was supposed to be Seth's right hand; his executioner. His realm was supposed to be filled with the souls of the dead and there had been many Charming had killed for Seth in the last two years. He used the chalice to do so and when Mephisto had confronted him about why none of the souls occupied Nephilim, Charming gave him the simple and plausible explanation that the chalice naturally sent those souls to the Underworld for their final judgement. Seth easily bought it, because it was how death worked in this realm, but something about it still seemed off for Mephisto. He usually was able to see the souls of the dead if they lingered after death, but he had never seen any. Every single soul had apparently moved on immediately to the Underworld with no trace of their astral presence in this realm, post execution. He found that very strange and suspect. But Seth never listened to anything he had to say. Charming had convinced the childish God that he was a fool and could not be trusted to carry out any important duties. Charming had charmed their Lord quite thoroughly and blatantly manipulated him right in front of everyone's faces. He was making a fool out of the supreme God and Seth was too blinded by his own arrogance and narcissism to see it. But Mephisto could and he yearned to prove it. He wanted to expose whatever nefarious plot that the Charmings were involved in and then make them pay. The tortures he had in mind for that smug prince were devious and he wanted nothing more than to realize them. But that meant he had to prove Charming's betrayal and that was not going to be easy.

The Charmings were careful and already wary of him. They made sure their movements couldn't be tracked and they were never followed. Which meant he had to find a way around those protections. If he could prove that they were frauds to Seth, then he would regain the respect and power he had once enjoyed.

But he needed help to expose them. That wouldn't be easy. Most of their enemies were either dead or didn't remember. And some weren't even a worthy threat anymore. They were far too powerful with that damn chalice in their possession. Each of them had half of it, his sword and her pendant. They had cast their lighter halves out into the Land Without Magic without their half of the chalice or so he thought. But there were ways around their power, he knew. They had shielded their entire castle with the chalice magic to keep prying eyes out and Seth was foolish enough to think nothing of it. But they had three grown children, two grandchildren, one being very small, and a great grandchild in young Lucy. Threatening one of the brats would force their compliance, but doing so without Seth finding out was another matter. The Charmings had him completely under their spell and were practically his puppet master. It made Mephisto sick. Even dark, they were everyone's darlings. But it was time to change the tides and figure out a way to dethrone them.

Fortunately, there was one man that everyone had forgotten. One that would be willing to be his pawn if it meant the promise of revenge on the ones that had taken everything from him and regain his stolen Throne. One that could do real damage if he had the necessary power.

He approached the forgotten cell in the prison and peered in on the occupant. This man had once been destined to be a great King, prophesied by Merlin himself. But his obsession with making Excalibur whole had led him down a dark path and forever disgraced him in history. But the promise of regaining his former glory would make him the perfect pawn to help him take down the Charmings.

"Who the hell are you?" the haggard man drawled. Mephisto's hand began to smoke and the tendrils of black smoke drifted into the cell. The man inhaled the smoke and recognition returned to his glazed, cursed eyes.

"Welcome back...King Arthur," Mephisto drawled.

"What...what's going on?" he asked, as he looked at his hands. He was dirty and disheveled, but he now remembered everything.

"There is a new curse and I have just returned your memories," Mephisto stated.

"Why?" the former King asked suspiciously.

"I need your help...to take down the Charmings," he responded. Arthur gritted his teeth and his eyes filled with fury.

"You must have a lot of magic if you think you can stand against them," he surmised. Mephisto smirked.

"I do...and I can give you powers too," he tempted.

"I am no amateur, demon...what is the price for this power?" he questioned. Mephisto chuckled.

"You are wise...and correct. There is a price and I will not deceive you, though that is my usual nature," he stated.

"The price is steep...but you would have a hand in a grand revenge and I promise I can seat you back upon the Throne of Camelot...your destiny," Mephisto promised.

"And my price for this?" Arthur questioned again.

"Your soul," Mephisto stated.

"A bit vague...what exactly does the price of my soul entail?" Arthur demanded to know. Mephisto smirked. Oh yes, this one would do nicely as a pawn. Smart, but willing to do whatever it took for power and revenge.

"I own you...for eternity. But the power you'll receive in return will give you everything you want. You will feed me with the damned souls I require to rebuild my empire and in return, you will have your Throne," Mephisto promised.

"And the Charmings?" he questioned.

"Oh...we will make them pay and you will be essential to help me do so," Mephisto tempted.

"I want you to offer the same to my most trusted Knight...Gawain. He is loyal to me, but will serve you well also," Arthur said.

"Offering me another man's soul without asking him first?" Mephisto asked deviously. This guy really was the worst and would be much more reliable than that stupid doctor, though he had returned to killing lately, which was mildly pleasing to him as he had those souls now as well.

"Gawain hates the Charmings as much as me...trust me, he'll want in," Arthur offered.

"It's a deal then, Your Majesty," Mephisto said, as he offered his glowing hand through the bars. Arthur looked at it and then took it and his agonized cries filled the prison, as he experienced the consequences of the deal he made. He felt his soul be pulled from his body briefly and watched in amazement, as his ethereal form was fitted with golden shackles, before it was thrust back inside his body. The magic and dark power he now possessed washed over his body and he gazed at the flames in his hand with a mad delight.

"You'll want to clean yourself up and trim that disgusting beard. You need to look the part of a King again," Mephisto said, as he moved to the next cell to offer the same deal to Sir Gawain…

~*~

David got out of his car, as he arrived at the scene, just outside the Boston University campus boundaries. It made him really nervous now that there was a murder so close to the same college his daughter attended and he hoped his boss had a few more answers now than she had yesterday.

He flashed his badge to the guarding officer and slipped under the crime scene tape. Onlookers, including many students, were starting to gather and he knew that meant they weren't going to be able to keep this under wraps much longer. He was a bit surprised when he got to the scene where the body was though. He was expecting another student, but as he pulled back the tarp, he noticed this man didn't look at all like a student. It was a gruesome scene, as the man had been hit by a bus and he put the tarp back down.

"Okay...I'm a bit confused. Your text said that we had another body, as in connected to the first four. But this guy...is different," he said.

"Initially...I thought so too," she said, as she showed him photos of his arm, which was littered with needle pricks.

"He's a homeless drug addict. He was probably high as a kite and wandered into traffic," Pat said.

"Sounds pretty open and shut," David replied.

"Oh, that's what we're meant to think. But witnesses say they heard someone screaming in agony just before this happened within the vicinity. What they described hearing matches a lot of what was happening to the last victim of this new drug we're seeing," she said.

"Wait...you think someone dosed this guy with the same stuff?" David asked.

"We won't know for sure until the toxicology report comes back, but my gut says so," she replied. His brow furrowed in confusion.

"Okay...but why change victimology? I mean, most serial killers don't change their victim pool, even when it gets too risky," David said.

"Unless we're wrong on that and this isn't really a serial killer," she replied, as she led him to the tent they had set up nearby with a table inside. She had the previous four victim files spread out.

"The only common denominator that these four have is that they were students with a known drug abuse history. Other than that, their races and genders are all over the place," she told him.

"Okay...so if it's not about students, then our perp looks for drug abusers?" David asked. She nodded.

"It would make sense in the change of victimology. Students are getting too risky and too many dead students is going to start attracting all kinds of attention. But dead homeless people? No one cares," she said. He sighed. It was sad and callous, but true.

"Okay...so if it's not about killing for this guy, then what is it?" David asked, as she flipped open another file folder.

"Possibly experimentation," she offered.

"We just got the analysis of the drug found in all four students back and I suspect we'll find the same one in the homeless man," she said, as she showed him the specs.

"It's unlike anything our analysts have seen before. The hallucinogen properties are off the charts. We've never seen a drug that causes such a rapid mental breakdown with only one dose, especially in such a miniscule amount," she said.

"Wait...one tiny dose? If this happened with one dose, then how can they be ruling these deaths as accidental overdoses?" David asked.

"That ruling has changed now. One dose has caused complete mental breakdown and so much physical strain on the organs that these first three died of heart failure. These last two would have probably suffered the same if our last student hadn't jumped off a building first and this man hadn't wandered into traffic. We're reclassifying all these deaths as homicides," Pat replied. He sighed and looked at all the victims.

"So...he's looking for guinea pigs to test his drug on. Student drug abusers are getting too risky, so he's moved onto homeless people," David surmised.

"It's our running theory," she agreed.

"So...what is he expecting this drug to do that it's obviously not doing without killing these people?" David questioned.

"That's the million dollar question and if he's getting desperate, we may soon see more and more victims, willing or not," she replied. He sighed.

"We need to find this guy," he said, as he looked at her.

"I know this isn't about students, but do you think we can put a couple agents on duty to watch this campus?" he asked. She smiled.

"Summer will be fine...but I've already assigned two agents to this campus," she replied. He smiled.

"Thanks...I know I shouldn't ask for favors like that," he said, but she put her hand on his arm.

"Hey...I love them too," she assured, as they turned back to the files on the table.

"So...the person experimenting is obviously very smart," she said.

"Yeah...like a scientist or something," he replied, as his eyes widened and she read his expression, as she dialed the Boston office.

"I need an analyst to pull the names of all science department employees from MIT, Boston University, Harvard, and Bay State. Include any consultants or guest lecturers as well from the past two years. Top priority," she said.

~*~

Elsa's hands shook slightly, as they waited to receive their guest that morning. Seth made regular visits to all the Kingdoms and it was actually a rare occurrence in what had happened in Midas' Kingdom. The old King had refused to keep complying and pleasing their Lord and had been swiftly dealt with, as a result. But Seth was known to be prone to fits of rage out of no where. As she felt her husband take her hand, she calmed a bit.

"Everything will be fine, my love. We have prepared a grand offering to him and your ice sculpture in his likeness is impressive," Leo assured.

"I hope so...Arendelle enjoys such peace. I only hope we can continue to give that our people," she said, as the gates opened and they straightened, before approaching arm in arm to greet their visitors.

They bowed deeply to Seth, as he entered, with Mephisto flanking him on one side and Leo's parents on the other side.

"The ice sculpture in my likeness is quite impressive. Perhaps you will make more of them," Seth said.

"Of course, my Lord...I can make as many as you like," Elsa replied.

"We have had a grand feast prepared in your honor, my Lord. All of Arendelle's finest delicacies," Leo added, as they bowed deeply to him.

"Good...a much better reception than I received yesterday in Midas' Kingdom. That shall bode well for Arendelle and its rulers," Seth said, as he moved toward the center of the room. All the staff and citizens bowed to him and began to cater to his every whim.

"Don't worry...he has no qualm with Arendelle and he enjoyed the ice sculpture. Feed and entertain him and this will be a peaceful visit," Charming assured them, as he put a hand on his son's shoulder. Leo nodded and the music and festivities, all in honor and dedication to Seth, began.

~*~

Fandral sheathed his sword in the scabbard on his hip and felt a pair of arms wrap around his midsection. He smiled and turned in the arms of the petite beauty that was his wife.

"Must you go?" she purred, as she kissed his cheek. Oh, how he wished he could just stay in bed with her all day, for he could never get enough of his sweet Rose.

"You know I would love nothing more, my angel...but training must resume. The Dark One thinks we are close to the end now. We must be ready when the resistance is revealed and we engage a war with Seth," he said. She nodded. She knew he was right and wondered if it was too much to hope to not only win, but to yearn for peace if they did defeat him. True peace and not the farce they were among now.

"We will have our happy ending, my Rose...and it shall only be a beginning," he promised, sensing her thoughts. She smiled up at him.

"I am happy, as long as I have you, my love...no matter what calamity we must face," she assured him, as he kissed her passionately.

"I'll return soon, my angel," he promised.

"And as always, I will be waiting. Your place is training our warriors and mine is researching ways to ensure our victory. I will do my part as you do yours," she promised in return. He kissed her again and then stepped into the secret chamber they had designed behind the bookcase, before portaling to Bald Mountain.

"You're late…" Grumpy complained, as the warrior strode beside him and they entered the training arena.

"Bout time you showed up. I'm not sure who is worse...you or Charming when it comes to pulling yourselves away," Regina griped, as she stood waiting with Robin at her side. When the curse hit, it had not taken Regina's memories or given her any cursed life, probably due to the fact that she had once been a caster of the curse. At Rumpelstiltskin's insistence, she had rebelled to stage her own execution and been one of the first exiled to Bald Mountain and changed it from a volcanic death trap to the training arena and barracks that it was. Robin had been devastated and tried to fight Charming for "killing" her, thus resulting in his own faux execution. Upon arrival, his memories were returned and he joined the efforts in training all their initiates in archery combat. Fandral smirked.

"True love...you know how it is. Besides, it would seem that those two are just as bad," Fandral commented, as James and Aphrodite scurried in, looking a bit hurried and disheveled. The former Queen rolled her eyes.

"The children were a bit clingy this morning," Aphrodite said, making James chuckle to which she elbowed him.

"Right...blame it on your kids," Regina deadpanned, as they began training the various people that had come to be executed under Seth's rule. Aphrodite had not lasted long either and was one of the first. Seth hated his fellow Gods, so she, Hermes, and Athena all fell victim to his wrath quite early. Thankfully, it was Charming who carried out their sentences and they arrived here with memories restored. Naturally, James had nearly lost his mind when he thought Aphrodite had been taken from him and his brother had carried out his sentence as well, exiling him here.

"Let's just get to it," James said, as he unsheathed his sword. Archery, sword fighting, hand to hand combat training, and magical training then commenced...

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #OC Charmings #AU #original season 8 storyline #Rumbelle #OQ #Fandral the Dashing #Rose Red #Dashing Rose #Prince James #Aphrodite #Prince Goddess #romance #adventure #family #finding you always #the epic continues

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eye-raq · 6 years ago

Text

Let’s Unwind

Adonis x Bianca

Summary: Adonis and Bianca haven’t experienced any time to themselves lately because of their busy schedules. But tonight is the night for them to unwind with drinks, food, and good sex.

This was a fic request! I hope it’s just as fluffy as the person wanted it to be.

“Hey, Adonis?”

Bianca walked into their wide open living room, Adonis seated on the couch in front of their 86” LED Smart TV, watching Sports Illustrated. They were discussing the big fight he had just two days ago, the one where he came out on top, yet again. They all celebrated as a group with his team and his family. Rocky couldn’t make it, but he gave his congratulations and promised to visit soon.

Bianca held a sleeping Amara as she tucked herself in a comfortable spot on the couch. Amara cooed, stirring in her sleep before gripping one of Bianca’s fingers tightly, causing Bianca to smile before looking up at her husband.

“Donnie?”

“Yeah.” He turns down the TV, giving B his undivided attention now.

“I’ve been thinking.”

Adonis blinked twice before raising his brows in question.

“Thinking what B?”

“Well, we’ve both been pretty tied up with work and I’ve been thinking that we should make it a priority to do husband and wife things.”

Adonis chuckles.

“We don’t do that shit now?” He had a confused expression that made B want to mush his face.

“Married couples don’t just come home late at night from studio sessions or work out sessions to take separate showers and get in a quickie.” She says with sarcasm.

“So what you saying, that’s all we are?” He points an accusatory finger between them both.

“Stop it, D. What I’m saying is I want us to be more romantic. Let’s go on Friday night dinner dates, have picnics on the hood of your car, pop up at each other's work places with gifts or small talk, have risky sex, have family dinner, TRAVEL THE WORLD. Anything…”

Bianca has Adonis’s attention now, causing him to flick the TV off on a scene of him K.O.’ing a famous Mexican boxer.

“I’m listening B. I want all those things too, I want to keep our relationship romantic, fun, passionate, all that.” He was having trouble expressing himself. Bianca grips his hand, running a thumb over the scarring on his knuckles.

“Since we are both on the same page, why don’t you get dressed in something nice and make us a dinner reservation.” Adonis gives her a half smirk, before gripping her chin to kiss her soft lips. He loved the little humming sounds that escaped her mouth each time he would kiss her, her soft delicate hands running over his face, the rings on her fingers adding temperature to his skin that caused him to shiver pleasantly.

“I called your mom, and she said she would be more than happy to take Amara for the night while we enjoy ourselves. She said she’s a phone call away when we need time alone.”

Both Adonis and Bianca stared down at their sleeping beauty, Adonis leaning in to kiss her tiny feet causing Bianca to smile. Finally lifted from the couch, Bianca places Amara in her crib to get ready, while Adonis went to take a quick shower. He figured B would want to do a fancy steak house dinner, so he booked a reservation at The Capital Grille. Bianca wanted them both to dress nice for the occasion, so Adonis put on a tailored suit of his in a navy blue color with gold cufflinks and a white dress shirt underneath, not completely buttoned. He sat on his bed to tie up the laces on his dress shoes, watching his woman at her vanity applying some makeup. She went for a red lip, using the Fenty Beauty Stunna Lip Paint, her eyes smokey to bring out the big brown irises she had, her hair pressed straight, the strands clinging to the beautiful creamy skin of her back. She had on a backless black cocktail dress with a slit on the side to give a teasing view of her killer legs. Her feet were covered in Saint Laurent heels.

Adonis couldn’t wait to get back to their place so he could properly dissect his women with his tongue, and stroke her surface with his fingers. Bianca caught him staring, a goofy grin on her face.

“You like what you see?”

“Hell yeah, you lucky we have dinner first because I’d rather skip that and eat you.”

“So you’re a cannibal now?”

They both shared a laugh.

“Hurry up beautiful so we can drop Amara off.”

Bianca put on her last Tiffany diamond earring before grabbing her black clutch, smoothing her dress over her hips.

“Okay, so I think I have everything Amara needs. Her bottle cleaner, I packed extra breast milk just in case, her favorite pacifier, those new booties that keeps her feet warm, extra pampers…”

“Babe. It’s cool, aight? My mom will be fine she can handle it B.” Bianca squeezes her eyes shut, letting out a nervous laugh.

“Okay...I’m overreacting. You ready?”

“You look so damn sexy tonight.”

Adonis drinks from the bottle of Champagne sitting on ice, watching Bianca sip her wine in a sexy manner, her eyes low and fluttery.

“You look just as good yourself Mr. Creed.” She pulls out a tiny mirror to check her lips, smacking them together.

“Keep doing that to your lips they’ll be staining this dick in a minute.”

Bianca couldn’t lie, she wanted Adonis to do the things he talked big about, but her stomach rumbled and she needed some food.

“Let me eat first I’m STARVING.”

Right on cue, the waiter comes over with their tray of food. Bianca ordered a prime rib with Parmesan cheese crust, creamed spinach, and a baked sweet potato with brown sugar maple glaze and butter. Adonis had a ribeye with caramelized mushrooms and onions, garlic butter mashed potatoes, and roasted broccoli with green peppers and onions. It was tender, savory, and juicy, each bite getting better than the last. Both of them could eat, and that’s all they did too, Bianca getting thicker all over. Donnie definitely took notice when she would walk out of the bathroom in her naked glory, rubbing herself down with her homemade whipped body butter. The voice inside his head begged him to calm the heat that began to brew deep within his skin, deciding on ignoring the erection that attempted to grow and ask his women about her music.

“Tell me about the studio sessions lately, how have they been going for you?” Bianca removed her napkin from her lap, dabbing her mouth delicately, before clearing her throat to speak.

“I’m not gonna lie, I may have hit a snag.” Bianca finally spoke with a sound of defeat in her tone.

“A snag? Where exactly?” Adonis ran his tongue over his teeth, his eyes focused on his women as her shoulders slouched, reaching to pour a generous amount of champagne into her glass.

“Well...for one I haven’t had the motivation. Every time I feel like I have a lyric, just a SPARK, something, it just falls flat.” Her silky tresses from the right side of her face slipped over her shoulder, causing her to stroke it back, exposing her creamy skin over her protruding clavicles.

“I’ve been thinking about Amara a lot lately, and the hearing tests, the pressure from everyone expecting more from me now that I’ve given them this gift, my music.” She lets out a breath that sounded strained.

“B. This is what I want you to do.”

Adonis took her hand in his, rubbing the surface with his thumb.

“When you walk in that studio, I want you to close those beautiful eyes of yours. Then, I want you to do what I see you do at home, just hum to yourself. Let that pretty little hum coarse through you like it’s awakening you. Stay still, and let the melody, whichever melody you decide to create, let it cloud your brain and let it get you into the zone.”

Adonis watched the downcast of her eyes, reaching across the table with his other hand to grip her chin softly, lifting her head, and making her look him in the eyes.

“Hey, like you always tell me before a fight, YOU GOT THIS. My girl did not get a record deal and become internet famous in less than a year for nothing.” Adonis playfully jabbed her chin, causing her to perk up more, taking that same hand to kiss it, leaving a matte red lip stain along his almond skin.

“You are the epitome of a man. I don’t know where I would be if I didn’t have you.” Adonis gives her a soft smile, a light chuckle escaping his throat.

“I should say that about you, girl. You and Mara, and my mom are the light in my life. After the entire Drago thing, I’ve grown and… I needed that.”

Bianca’s bright smile could have swoon the entire restaurant, her hand bashfully coming up to cover her face, her eyes on Adonis unwavering.

“You are something, you beautiful human.” She loved the allure in his eyes, she loved the way he softly smiled at her like she was the only one in that room. She loved how his fingers would caress her hand gently and without pause, making her woozy.

“Adonis Creed?”

Adonis’ eyes looked up and over at a young man who looked to be about 18 years of age, an excited gleam in his eyes and a broad smile.

“Yeah, how you doing man.” Adonis put his hand out to shake the teenage boys, watching as he reluctantly shook his hand with a nervous gleam in his eyes.

“I recognized you from my graduation dinner party and I figured why not take a chance and say hi.” The young boy reminded Adonis of himself when he was 18.

“Not a problem bro, you box?”

“Yeah! I’ve been doing it since I was 7.”

“You love it? Like enough to want to pursue it?”

The boy nodded his head rapidly, causing Bianca to laugh lightly.

“That’s wassup, what’s your name?”

“Calvin.” He stuttered.

“Listen, Calvin.” Adonis pulled out his phone, handing it over to the boy.

“Why don’t you put your cell number in there, and I’ll contact you about private boxing sessions with me, hows that sound to you?” Bianca looked at Adonis as if he were something to cherish as if he were a piece of heaven.

“For real?! MAN of course definitely. I would really appreciate that.” Calvin couldn’t stop giving his thanks, his smile still plastered and his head shaking back and forth in astonishment.

After he entered his number, Calvin said his final goodbyes to Bianca and Adonis, retiring to his family with more pep in his step.

Adonis took a sip from his glass, eyes gazing out into the street of LA, watching people cruise by and the palm trees sway. He could feel the eyes of his wife on him then, so he looked up to find Bianca with glossy eyes and a genuine smile on her lips.

“That was really fucking nice of you D.” She wiped at her eye quick, grabbing both of his hands.

“Thanks, baby, I saw something in him that reminded me of how I was. And plus, I love seeing young black boys involved in other things besides what’s happening on the block.”

Not wanting to let their food go to waste, the both of them continued to eat, silence hanging between them as the silverware clashed with the plates of food. Nothing needed to be said, just his presence was enough for Bianca and the same for Adonis. Peeking at each other, and the bare skin of Bianca’s leg rubbing against Adonis was just enough to spark heat.

—-

Her body stood in front of the ceiling to floor mirrors of their luxury loft, her hand pressed to the glass as one of her new singles, Midnight, played softly in the background. The song drummed through her, causing Bianca to sway her hips, eyes closed as she took in the lull of the sensual instrumental and her soft voice singing about losing control to a man.

Creeping up behind her with unheard footsteps was her husband, both of his hands running up the length of her arms, up and over her shoulders, and then down her exposed back before resting at her hips. Bianca lets out a soft chuckle, her breath hitching softly as Adonis’ body pressed firmly against hers.

“What was going through your mind when you wrote this?” The drag of his voice when he asked her that had her body pressing further against him, her eyes closing against the cityscape of LA.

“I was thinking...of how close I wish you were with me. How being away from you, even for a second, has me itching for your hands.”

Adonis strokes his lips over her ear.

“Just my hands?”

Bianca quirks a brow, leaning her head back to look him in his eyes.

“And your mouth.” Adonis took no time to press his lips to her divine lips. Bianca melted against the moist cushion of his lips, her body automatically turning to face him as their tongues crashed like dangerous waves.

“Keep kissing me like that and watch what happens.” Adonis teases.

“You started it D. Now you gotta finish it. I’m horny husband. I want you to fuck me.”

Adonis’ lips paused over Bianca’s his eyes searching hers, taking in the heat that began to flare behind her pretty brown irises. He was certain that the heat looked just the same within his.

Adonis and Bianca kissed further, practically sucking each other's faces, the back of Bianca’s legs crashing with the arm of their black leather couch, falling crimson her back causing her dress to hike up. She giggles from the surprise change in position, causing Adonis to clamp a fist to his mouth, snorting laughter.

“Oh god, we couldn’t even make it to the bed.” She shakes her head, watching Adonis remove his jacket and shirt.

“Doesn’t matter what surface I fuck you on, just as long as I feel that good pussy I’m straight.”

Adonis took no time to rest his body over hers, kissing her further while his hands roamed. She moaned sweetly into his mouth, her heart drumming against his solid chest frantically, and her hands rubbing over the waves on his head.

The intense passion that they both still felt for each other was mind blowing and gratifying. This is what they both wanted, a marriage where even the slightest gesture makes them erupt in pleasure.

Adonis began kissing from Bianca’s temple, down her face, and to her neck, taking his tongue to trail spit after every kiss. She whispered a repeated yes into his ear like a soft echo, her back arching into his solid frame, causing him to take his hands, removing the fabric of her dress inch by inch until it pooled around her waist.

“I can’t get enough of you ma, I need you ma.” Adonis nibbles on her clavicles, his eyes staring up at her extended head, her eyes low and lustful up at the ceiling.

“Keep going, don't stop.” His mouth finally found one of her caramel nipples, taking his lips to latch around one, savoring the sweet skin. He noticed how her skin shimmers with glitter, his other hand coming up to cup her breast. She chokes on that home groan, her fingers itching to grip the leather of the couch.

One of her smooth legs runs up Adonis’ side, her toes trying to push his black slacks down his hips.

“Skin Adonis, I wanna feel more skin.” Donnie kisses in between her breasts, giving her a lazy lopsided grin.

“Okay, wifey.” Adonis lifts up, approach Bianca at the head of the couch, watching as she takes her dainty fingers, undoing his pants, allowing them to fall loosely, her fingertips taking no time to pull his Calvin Klein briefs down, revealing a smooth veiny shaft, that hung with a throbbing erection. Bianca lifts her head to kiss him on the tip, before licking him there slow, her eyes watching every move. Adonis brings a hand to her head, running his fingers through her pressed hair, gripping the silky strands as he rubbed them between his fingertips.

Head from Bianca was something Adonis could never get over. It always brought him back to the first time he experienced it, that look in her eyes and the way her mouth did tantalizing things had him hooked, even before he had sex with her. She gripped him tightly, wetting him up with her spit and squeezing him good with her lips. Adonis hisses, his eyebrows worrying and his lips attacked by his teeth. Bianca could stare at that list filled face for hours, causing her to bob her head quicker over his length, earning a low but slow fuckkkkk to escape him. She was addicted to her husband's dick, and with every suck, she felt him quiver or twitch.

“Shit B, damn B….fuckkk baby.” His head falls back, hand coming down hard to the back of her head as he came, a low cry escaping his mouth.

Adonis was on his knees now, gazing into the pretty peach that Bianca had nestled between her legs, the wet fruit begging to be licked and many other things. Adonis could never forget the way she tasted; like a sweet piece of fruit dipped in fresh honey from a honeycomb. Bianca had an obsession with eating honeycombs too, the taste was overly sweet and the texture sticky, like how her pussy was now. Adonis trailed his tongue flat against her, liking from her hole all the way to her clit. No more quiet moans escaped her mouth, her heeled feet pointed to the sky and her ring-covered fingers rubbing over his head. Bianca tilts her head, watching the light from the city and the moon reflect off of his face and that shiny tongue that battled to get a taste.

Her legs drew back further, and her face contorted in bewilderment, her man's eyes never leaving hers, the undeniable attraction so clear and so pure. He took those lips and latched onto her clit, sucking deep without retracting, obscene noises loud between them and her creamy thighs shaking.

“Ah, take it.” She moans. Adonis was proud that he still made her feel this way. He opened up wide, attempting to kiss her inner folds, his lips brushing over every surface with persistent need, her legs never clamping around his head. She wanted, needed, craved him.

“Keep that up and watch I cum.” The innocent way she spoke that had the primal nature within him growl.

“I guess I gotta keep going right?” He spoke into her pussy with a low voice.

He kept going and going with the same motions, now adding two fingers, curling them over her g spot. The leather grew sweaty from her perspiration, a repeated gasp escaping her mouth like a melody, causing her belly to tremble, and her legs to shake as she orgasmed without warning. Adonis chased her cum, still sucking her through it until he felt she had enough.

——-

“I love you.” She whispered into his ear before sucking on his earlobe. They were on their second position that night, Adonis sinking back into her tight pussy, Bianca’s hips bringing him closer, her face was buried into the carpet, and her body was arched off of the ground, her pussy quivering around him with each deep pound. His strokes weren’t rushed, it felt like he was trying to remember her this way like he wanted to map out how her pussy felt around him.

“I love you, I love this pussy.” Adonis ran his fingers through her head before gripping tight, his eyes enjoying the way her back looked. Her arch was deep, and her spin dipped in the middle, making him trail his thumb there, catching up the sweat.

“Fuck me, harder.” Whatever she wanted, Adonis would give her, his hips slapped into her ass swiftly, her fingers rubbing into the carpet with a tremble.

“Touch me more.” She could feel the palms of his hand's jiggle and pinch her ass, before trailing both hands up her slim waist, digging his fingers into her flesh. Adonis buries himself deeper, bending over to kiss her spine.

“Throw that ass back,” Adonis slapped her ass, watching as B, began grinding her hips back over him slowly, a moan leaving her mouth after every stroke.

“Look at you. So damn beautiful with this dick in you. Such a beautiful sight baby.” His eyes couldn’t leave the nasty way her pussy swallowed him repeatedly. He felt her clench him, a hiss escaping his mouth.

“I felt that too, cum on this dick B.” Adonis began thrusting to meet her strokes, her ass bouncing and her cries muffled by the carpet.

“AHHHHH.” Adonis lets out a growl so deep Bianca could feel it vibrating through her flesh. She couldn’t even warn him, her words jumbled as she came on him for the third time that night.

LA received a beautiful view that evening, Adonis pressing Bianca’s body into the glass window, her legs around his waist as she bounced over him with a slow, forceful jerk of her body. She had her arms hanging loosely around his neck, and her eyes closed in bliss, head smashed against the thick glass. Adonis loves the image of his wife on him, her skin flushed, lipstick smeared, hair curling in the roots, her eyes wet in the corners. She was so precious, the vision of her made him want to fuck her harder.

“Yes, Donnie, yes give it to me, fuck me, I miss this!” She brought a hand to the back of his head, her nails grazing his head.

“You feel so good, you always feel so good.” He whispers, bringing both of his hands around her to hold her up, bouncing her rough over him. His wife, his beloved, his beautiful black women, she was a sight to see.

“B, fuck…”

“Cum in me, give it to me.”

“Imma give it to you baby, I promise.”

“Yeah, ohmygod ohmygod.”

“Take it, girl, take this dick…”

“FUCK D!” She clenched around him, her head falling back.

“Damn girl.” Adonis smacked her ass, his body shivering from how sensitive he was. He walked back to the couch with her still around him, falling back against it while his women bounced on him, leaning forward to kiss and nibble on his lips with her his grinding deep and his hands buried into the flesh of her ass. Her hands crashed with the couch on either side of his head, her back arching and rolling. Adonis lay there stunned, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth hanging open. Bianca arched deeper before lifting from him with a swing of her head, her hair crashing with her face, bringing Adonis hands to grip her breasts.

“I’m fucking this dick D, this is my dick.”

She began bouncing, earning a slap to her ass, and a string of moans from him.

“This fucking pussy, GOT DAMN.” His head extended, eyes squeezed shut.

“This pussy is straight fire.” He couldn’t hold back anymore, his hips meeting hers, slapping skin loud. Bianca practically clawed his chest, her body shaking over him in another orgasm, drawing him on further.

“SHITTTTT!!” Adonis lifts from the couch, wrapping his arms around her waist, his hips snapping up into her rough before finally, with a shake, cumming within her deep, shooting his cum against her cervix spurt after spurt. His lips latched to her neck, soft mumbling vibrating against her flesh. The hold he had on her was tight, and the loud thumping of his heart against her chest made her squeeze him tighter.

“If I told you, that this felt like the first time we had sex, would you believe me?” Bianca rubbed her nose into Adonis’s sweaty shoulder.

“I would, but what if I told you that it was EVEN BETTER than the first time we had sex?” Adonis kisses her hairline, enjoying the way her body bounced in his lap from laughter.

“It’s probably because of how freaky I’ve grown to be with you.” Adonis hummed in agreement.

“I’m glad we did this B, it just goes to show how much we still care for each other.” His fingertips rubbed at her back, making her eyes close.

“Just keep loving me like you do, it’s the best feeling in the world.”

@panthergoddessbast @whoramilaje @allhailnjadaka @vikkidc @erikismybitch @eriknutinthispoosy @hearteyes-for-killmonger @blackpantherismyish @trevantesbrat @bakaris-shorty @wifin-niggaz @killmonger-dolan @killmongersaidheyauntie @killmongersgurl @killmongerdispussy @killmongerthirst @killmongersmistress @princessstevens @princesskillmonger @bartierbakarimobisson @wawakanda-btch @wakanda-inspired @vibranium-chakra @muse-of-mbaku @thiccdaddy-mbaku @madamslayyy @chaneajoyyy @bidibidibombaclaat @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @laketaj24 @supersizemeplz @abeautifulmindexposed @blxckquiescent @thehomierobbstark @thehonorablekingerik @missmohnique @missumuch1918 @unfriendly-blk-hottie @blue-sunflowerr @youreadthatright @youcantkillamutant @marvelpotterlove @drsunshine97 @iamrheaspeaks @loosewindmill @janelledarling @purple-apricots @softnani @forbeautyandlife @deja-r @calitexastrillgoddess @wakandawinning @jozigrrl @halcyonscry @shesakillerkween @raysunshine78 @forgottenthoughtsandmemories @shookmcgookqueen @teheeboo @disneysdarlingdiva @hidden-treasures21 @alexundefined @thadelightfulone

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naille714 · 6 years ago

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A Million Little Things Recap: Run For Your Life — Plus, Jon's Secret Revealed!

On your mark, get set, GO… ahead and wonder about whether you can ever really know a person and/or whether loving someone makes any sense, given the fragility of life! Make sure to grab some Gatorade and a bagel at the end!

This week’s A Million Little Things uses a community 5k for suicide prevention as a backdrop for the gang’s ongoing search for meaning in Jon’s death. There are some heavy-handed bits (so many references to getting people “over the finish line,” both metaphorically and literally!), but we also get more concrete answers to what the heck Ashley has been up to every time she’s acting squirrelly. And that, alone, is worth a victory lap.

Read on for the highlights of “Secrets and Lies.”

FAKEOUT! | The hour opens with a video that Jon shot of himself, and it looks like he might be in the apartment he showed Ashley at the end of Episode 10. “Let me just start by saying, I’m sorry. I abandoned you. I know for a long time, I’ve owed you some answers. There’s probably nothing I can say that can make this make sense, except just, I’m sorry, Barbara,” he says. Wait, what?

LIFE AS AN ENDURANCE SPORT | While Delilah is out for a run with her kids, she thinks about running to Katherine for help with the bank’s foreclosure on the house. Apparently Jon leveraged his family’s home against a larger commercial loan, and Delilah signed off on it — though she says she often signed papers Jon told her to, and she had no idea what she was approving. Katherine reassures her she’ll figure it out.

A Million Little Things Recap Season 1 Episode 11The gang is prepping to run a road race to benefit suicide-prevention efforts, but Gary thinks Maggie should sit it out, given that she’s got a chemo round the day before. But she’s determined to complete the run, explaining that among the chemotherapy’s side effects, lacing up her sneakers and pounding the pavement is the only thing that makes her still feel like her. At this point, she’s lost her hair and is wearing a wig; Gary gets a glimpse of her bald head when she doesn’t know he’s looking, and he’s visibly affected by the visual. Soon after, he changes his mind and becomes Running Maggie Superfan #1.

THE TRUTH ABOUT JON | Meanwhile, Katherine lets Delilah know that they’ve gotten a 60-day extension on the foreclosure, and that the commercial loan Jon took out “was for some properties he was underwater on,” Katherine says gently. The amount? $18 million (!), which Delilah now owes, because he used her personal assets to secure the loan. And the bank will take everything, she adds, including the life-insurance payout Delilah was relying on to reclaim her home.

Gary doesn’t believe that Jon would’ve left his family stranded like that. “He had a plan for everything!” he emphatically points out. But Delilah gets very angry very quickly as she notes that she’s been crushed by the weight of her guilt over the affair, thinking it had led Jon to end things, but it turned out he’d created his own mess. She then ejects Gary from the meeting at Katherine’s office.

Gary flashes back to the elevator breakdown that doubled as his first meeting with Rome, Jon and Eddie. Given that Jon is in full corporate d-bag swagger mode, I’m not sure why any of the others would’ve wanted to pursue a conversation with him, much less a lifelong bro-hood. When Gary starts to freak, Jon distracts him by asking who each of their dream dinner companion would be. Eddie says his old music teacher. Rome says filmmaker Lawrence Kasdan. Gary says T. Rutledge, then off the guys’ quizzical looks, points to the certificate posted inside their car: “the guy who inspected this stupid elevator, or failed to,” he notes. Jon sadly says he’d only want to have dinner with his wife and kids, because he works so much, he usually doesn’t get home in time.

WHAT IS ASHLEY UP TO? | Later, Delilah and Katherine are at a bank, trying to get more information on Winthrop Holdings, the shell company that Jon set up. While they wait for copies of documents, Ashley is at the front desk, closing out “the Rutledge account” and taking the money in the form of a cashier’s check made out to her. (Side note: I froze the frame and tried to see how much she was pocketing, but couldn’t see it precisely. It looked like multiple hundreds of thousands of dollars.) As Katherine and Delilah depart, Ashley sees them, but they don’t see her.

By the time the two women return to Delilah’s, it’s almost like they’ve forgotten that one was sleeping with the other one’s husband. But that illusion is shattered when Eddie, who has come home on an off night during the tour to surprise Theo, pops up and demands to know what’s going on with all of the Jon revelations, which he’s heard secondhand from the kids.

Speaking of the kids: Now that Sophie knows what her father was up to, she’s no longer interested in running the race.

DESPERATE TIMES | Faced with the news that Gina’s restaurant may never open, thanks to the financial woes attached to the property, a newly off-his-meds Rome offers to go back to making commercials. But rather than have her husband re-engage with the career that crushed his soul, she asks her mother to be an investor in the eatery. This is a terrible idea, but sure!

RACE ON! | The next morning, Gary picks up Maggie, who forces him to face the fact that Jon was human and therefore flawed. The perks of having a therapist for a girlfriend! They go to Delilah’s, where Danny comes out to his mom and sister, telling them that he hadn’t said anything earlier because he didn’t want to disappoint them. “Maybe that’s why Dad kept things from us, too, because he was just trying to be the person we thought he was,” the boy says. Everyone hugs, and eventually, a less-angry Sophie agrees to run the race.

Everything starts off fine. But then Maggie, who took off quickly and left Gary in the dust, starts to falter and has to sit down on the side of the course. She cries. Once everyone else has finished, Gary realizes that his lady is nowhere to be seen. He panics and runs back along the course, finding her exactly where she stopped. She sobs that she’s angry about how her body is betraying her. “You are strong. You are powerful. You are brilliant. You are also human,” he tells her, taking her by the arm and walking the remainder of the route with her. With everyone’s help, Maggie crosses the finish line after dark.

NOT-SO-PLEASED TO MEET YOU? | Katherine calls Delilah with the news that Ashley has been making payments on Jon’s loan since he died, under the name Rutledge Trust. Gary recognizes the name from the elevator; it became a kind of shorthand for “take care of my family” among the guys. He tells Delilah he can take her to Ashley’s apartment to get some answers, and the show’s camerawork and editing it seems like they arrive just as she’s shredding documents… including the envelope marked “Delilah” that Ash has been hiding since the pilot. But they’re at her actual apartment, and she’s shredded at the one where she kissed Jon.

Later, Ashley waits outside a building. A woman emerges, and we recognize her as the mystery woman from Jon’s funeral. “We need to talk,” Ashley says. “No, Ashley, we don’t,” the woman says, continuing to walk by her. “You owe this to him!” Ashley cries. Might I guess that we’ve just met Ms. Barbara Morgan?

#a million little things #ashley #trailer #tv series

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symphonic-scream · 6 years ago

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Turning Point (150 follower Special)

It's been maybe eight years since they all graduated together. Eight years since they took down the League of Villains. Eight years since since they all stood arm in arm as they left UA campus for the last time as 3A.

Its surreal, to Hitoshi. He may not have been in 1A from the start, but he considers the others his family; almost moreso than his foster parents. He'd met his husband, his best friends, and even his mentor there. And it's been over for eight years.

Of course, they see each other all the time. A month after graduation, they were all dancing and drinking the night away in a hotel ballroom, celebrating the wedding of Katsuki and Eijirou. A few weeks, and Izuku and Shouto. Then Tsuyu and Ochako.

Hitoshi could list them all, but there were so many weddings. He himself had married the love of his life, Mashirao, just less then a year after graduating. It wasn't just weddings. Every three months, they'd host a big dinner and sleepover, and the whole class would (schedules permitting) spend the night with their UA family.

It was one such night. It was going to be the first one since graduation that they'd all be there for the entire night, which made it special. Tenya had even handed planning over to Mina and Tooru, despite being present at their first rager in their third year.

And Hitoshi couldn't wait.

He and Mashirao were a little late, coming from the next city over, but still managed to get in before Momo, Kyouka, Katsuki and Eijirou. It seemed as if the most punctual couples were dead last, which of course led to tons of small jokes once they showed up ten minutes later.

The first portion was a free area, for catching up. Hitoshi found himself engrossed in a conversation with Denki, who was waving his arms wildly as he explained why Hanta was wrong, and he should definitely grow a super rad soul patch.

"It'll be legendary, bro!" The sparkster grinned, showing another picture of some movie star with the facial feature. "I'll look like a model! My fans will go wild!"

Kyouka, who had been sitting and listening in, snorted, lightly digging her fist into his arm. "As if, Pikachu. You'll just look like a pervert."

He whined, turning his full attention on the punk lesbian. "Kyo! No! I'll look hot as hell!"

"Then why is Hanta so against it?" Hitoshi added his two cents. If the man's husband was against it, there had to be a reason.

Denki froze, before stumbling through a rushed response. "He's just jealous cause he knows I'll be the hot one! He knows he'll never let me leave our bed!"

Kyouka's nose scrunched up, making a sound of disgust. "Dude, too much. And I can guarantee it's because he knows you'll look like a pedophile."

Hitoshi snuck away as Denki practically weaped his defense out, as he already knew the result. He'd look like everyone on the sex offender list. He passed by Yuuga, Mina, and Mashirao on his way to the kitchen of their rented beach house, hoping to find a drink, and maybe someone who he hadn't seen in the last few months.

He was successful on both fronts, running into Ochako and Katsuki, who were cracking open beers after their reunion sparring. Both were glimmering with sweat, but had matching grins on their faces.

"Mind Fucker." Katsuki greeted, taking a sip of his alcohol. That was his 'fun' nickname for Hitoshi, and despite being a little harsh, it was far better than 'Dopey', or 'Half-and-half bastard', both of which had survived the tests of time.

"Murder Bitch." He responded in kind, causing the blond to smirk in approval. "So, who won this time?"

Ochako grinned wider, nudging her partner in the ribs. "I got the best of him this time. Katsuki here got distracted, and I knocked him down easily."

Katsuki just grunted in response, running a hand roughly through her once presentable hair. "Yeah, and if I hadn't, it would've been me acting all smug."

The pair laugh, and Hitoshi marvels in how far Katsuki has come. From an angry, arrogant, mean ass hat to this. It was impressive.

"So, Hitoshi." Ochako began, turning the attention of the conversation on him. "How's life been treating you?"

"Pretty well, actually." And it was the truth. "Mashiro and I just made a down payment on a house, and we're thinking of maybe adopting one day."

Katsuki's eyebrows drew inwards, as Ochako gasped. "Oh! Hitoshi, that's so exciting!"

He rubbed the back of his neck, chuckling lightly. "Yeah, we actually started talking because we heard Neijire and Yuuyu announced the birth of their daughter in May."

Their once seniors had gone public about their second child, but had yet to go into further details with the press. As an old friend, Hitoshi knew both children were biological, due to long term successionn planning on Yuuyu's part.

"The same for me and Tsu!" Ochako giggled, holding her hands to her cheeks. "Except, well, we're her godparents, and we thought about having our own!"

Hitoshi smiled, although the look Katsuki was giving them was off-putting. "What about you, K.E.M., have you and Ei talked about having kids?"

Katsuki, sticking to his favourite form of communication, grunted. "None of your damn business."

Huh. Well, that was one way to answer.

Soon, they were all called together for group games, which usually started as Never Have I Ever and ended with drunken screaming. Last year at their April meeting, Fumikage had gotten drunk far too quickly, and watched the rest of the game perched on the fridge, throwing individual Fruit Loops at the group.

Tooru, ever the enthusiastic hostess, had everyone's choice drink ready, even providing Momo with a non-alcoholic fruit juice. Strange. Momo hadn't opted out of alcohol during these games since Kyouka introduced her to the idea of mixing it into fruit juices.

"Never have I ever," Tooru began, curling into her wife's side, a bottle of tequila sitting on the coffee table between their matching glasses. "Cheated on my Significant Other."

No one drank of course, but Mina did have a cheesy grin on her face as she gave her wife a kiss. She cleared her throat, obviously ready for her turn. "Never have I ever had an elemental quirk."

Shouto, Denki, Katsuki, and Momo all took a shot, although Momo had to defend her claim.

"I create matter, which requires the elements." She explained, folding her hands into her lap.

It went like that for a couple more turns, with very few actually having to drink, except for when Katsuki pulled the "never have I ever not been Bakugou Katsuki" move.

Now it was Kyouka's turn, and the most tipsy person in the room was Denki. Kyouka whispered something to her wife, who nodded at her before taking her hand.

"Never have I ever been pregnant."

The whole room watched in shock and amazement as Momo straight up took a swig from her bottle of watermelon juice. It was silent for a few moments, everyone's dazed minds stumbling towards a connection.

"Yaomomo!" Kouji gasped, excitement pouring out of him in waves. Then it clicked for Hitoshi. Momo was pregnant.

"No way!" Mina cried, rocketing forwards in her seat. "You guys!"

Kyouka and Momo flushed, grinning as they folded into each other. Momo was practically glowing, half to tears.

Izuku's eyes were comically wide as he leaned over Shouto to get a better look at the apparent mothers-to-be. "How far along?"

"About three months." Kyouka stated with pride, placing one of her hand protectively over her wife's belly. "Our due date's in March."

Excited chatter erupted throughout the room, until in was shut down by Katsuki standing up, and stalking towards the couple. He shook his head, before pointing a finger directly at Momo. "Thought you could steal the spotlight, did you?"

Momo laughed, pushing his hand back. "Be thankful, we gave you an opportunity. Now you won't have to start any awkward interruptions."

Okay, now Hitoshi was confused. What on Earth could that mean?

Katsuki pulled Eijirou up from his spot on on of the beanbag chairs Denki had dragged in. "We're expecting too. Same program."

"Program?" Ochako squeaked, torn between confusion and happiness.

"The new research about gays, quirks and kids." Eijirou explained, taking his husband's hand nervously. "We all volunteered to be the first cases, and, well, it worked!"

Hanta cheered, spilling his drink over Denki as he careened sideways. "I can't believe it!"

Both sets of parents-to-be beamed, before the questions came up again.

The game was at the back of everyone's mind, as the remaining of their group congratulated the expecting parents. Hitoshi waited for the group to dissipate more before making his way over to Kyouka and Momo.

"Congrats to you, ladies." He greeted, smiling softly.

Kyouka grinned as Momo giggled. "Why, thank you, Hitoshi."

"Yeah, wicked thanks, dude."

Hitoshi let his eyes drift to the small photo in Kyouka's hand. "Is that an ultrasound image?"

Momo's eyes lit up, coaxing her wife into lifting the photo to allow Hitoshi to see it. It was black and white, as ultrasounds are, but the vaguely human shaped spot in the centre is what truly made his heart skip a beat.

"Wow," he muttered, in awe of the small form. "Do you, I mean, know? The sex?"

Kyouka nodded, tucking the photo back into her wallet. "We're going to be having a son."

"Oh my." Hitoshi was, for once, without words. Nothing could describe the feeling bubbling in his chest. He raised his eyes back to his friends, the women who were going to be having a son in March. "You're going to be wonderful parents. He's a very lucky boy."

Momo teared right up, offering a watery smile. "Thank you, Hitoshi, thank you so-"

Mina slammed into the couple at that point, squealing up a storm. "You guys, you guys, you guys!" Tooru, Tsuyu, and Ochako quickly followed, crowding their fellow women.

Leaving the women to be swarmed by the other four, Hitoshi turned his attention on the men of the hour. He's overheard them mention they we're in the early weeks, and it was 50/50 whether it would stick or not.

It was a lot to take in. Momo and Kyouka, and Katsuki and Eijirou were going to be parents in less than a year. It felt like they had graduated just yesterday, but the news struck the firm number of eight years into his mind. How had the time flown right past him?

Hitoshi shook his head. No, it had crept. Every moment without them was awful. But, he had a suspicion it wouldn't be that way for long. With two legacy babies on the way and multiple couples planning, Hitoshi knew they were going to get closer once more.

And, later, when he's carrying a young, sleeping Kazuya back home after a particularly exhausting playdate, Hitoshi muses that he had been right. Their children were strengthening the bonds between them once more.

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on-cliffhanger-universe · 3 years ago

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[MF] The night I almost cheated

This happened many years ago. I was a 23 year old married construction worker assigned to a project out of town. Our crew only went home on weekends. After work we usually went to a local bar, and one night my friend Josh and I found two older women there. We got to talking and learned that they were friends on vacation. I later discovered that they would take a trip every year to get away from their husbands and try to find some willing young guys to have fun with. They were both in their early forties.

As the night went on and we had more drinks, I found myself very attracted to Annette. She was petite, gorgeous, and utterly sexy, and I could tell that she was into me too. We danced several times, and there was plenty of fire between us. At one point, sitting at a table between dances, she pointed to my ring and frowned. I explained that I was happily married and just enjoying the evening. She responded that she was having fun too and would respect that.

At closing time Annette invited Josh and I back to her and her friend's condo. I declined until she told me that there would be a lot of people there, and a lot of champagne. Not one to turn down free drinks, I accepted. She was true to her word, there were probably 30 people there, the music was loud, and the champagne was flowing. My friend and I really enjoyed mingling with a lot of rich older people. We drank too much champagne. Suddenly, In a moment of clarity, I looked around and realized that everyone else had left and it was just the four of us there. The fireplace was turned down low and the music was soft jazz. I was pretty drunk and a little uncomfortable. Annette was sitting on the couch next to me, talking about her life.

Josh got up and excused himself, saying he had to go to the restroom. Annette's friend followed him down the hall, leaving the two of us alone. Annette moved over, straddled me, sat in my lap, and began kissing me. At some point she had changed into pajama bottoms and a tiny top with no bra. I could feel that she wasn't wearing panties and I could see her hard nipples poking through her shirt. She was urgent and irresistibly sexual. I wanted her so bad I thought I might come in my pants. I've rarely been so turned on by a woman. I'm sure there was a deep chemical attraction between us. I kissed her back, passionately. With my hands on her hips I pulled her down on to me, feeling her pussy press into my throbbing cock through our pants.

Suddenly I stopped. I couldn't do this. I held her arms at her side, looked her in the eye and told her so. I watched her face go through a range of emotions, from angry to accepting. With one last kiss, she climbed off and sat next to me. At that moment Josh came running out of the hall with his shirt untucked and halfway unbuttoned, his hair a mess. He exclaimed, " I can't hang, bro, I've got to split! Are you cool?" He was married too, and was barely able to escape Annette's friend. I told him I was fine and he ran out the door.

Annette promised she would be good and asked me if I would stay. I did, and we talked until the sun came up. She was an absolutely beautiful person, and commended me for being such a good man. Later that year I received an anonymous Christmas card from her, and to this day it remains one of my sweetest gifts. I will never forget that night.

submitted by /u/MidLyfeCrisys [link] [comments] from Gonewild Stories https://ift.tt/3FQBJVP

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makerof150papermasks · 6 years ago

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Hamlet Mariofied Act 3 Scene 2

Bolded names refer to the Mario characters playing the roles. The character role names remain the same in the context of the play and its dialogue.

Mario = Hamlet

Birdo = First Player

Diddy Kong, Dixie Kong = Other Players

Kamek = Polonius

Wario = Rosencrantz

Waluigi = Guildenstern

Luigi = Horatio

Bowser = Claudius

Peach = Gertrude

Wendy = Ophelia

Amazing Flyin’ Hammer Bro, Buster Beetle, Whimp = Lords Attendant

Terrapin, Hammer Bro, Fire Bro, Ice Bro, Boomerang Bro, Sledge Bro, Armored Koopa (Koopatrol), Terra Cotta = Guards

Mouser, Fryguy = Trumpeters

Clawgrip, Tryclyde = Drummers

Gooper Blooper, King Bob-omb, Eyerok, Boss Wiggler = Hautboys

Wart = Player King

Rosalina = Player Queen

Mallow = Lucianus Player

Morton, Roy, Ludwig, Booster = Mutes

Act III, Scene 2

Elsinore. Hall in the Castle.

Enter Mario and three of the Players [Birdo, Diddy Kong, and Dixie Kong]. Tune to Overworld Theme from Super Mario Bros 2

Mario. Speak the speech, I pray you, as I pronounc'd it to you,

trippingly on the tongue. But if you mouth it, as many of our

players do, I had as live the town crier spoke my lines. Nor do

not saw the air too much with your hand, thus, but use all

gently; for in the very torrent, tempest, and (as I may say)

whirlwind of your passion, you must acquire and beget a

temperance that may give it smoothness. O, it offends me to the

soul to hear a robustious periwig-pated fellow tear a passion to

tatters, to very rags, to split the cars of the groundlings, who

(for the most part) are capable of nothing but inexplicable dumb

shows and noise. I would have such a fellow whipp'd for o'erdoing

Termagant. It out-herods Herod. Pray you avoid it.

Birdo. I warrant your honour.

Mario. Be not too tame neither; but let your own discretion be your

tutor. Suit the action to the word, the word to the action; with

this special observance, that you o'erstep not the modesty of

nature: for anything so overdone is from the purpose of playing,

whose end, both at the first and now, was and is, to hold, as

'twere, the mirror up to nature; to show Virtue her own feature,

scorn her own image, and the very age and body of the time his

form and pressure. Now this overdone, or come tardy off, though

it make the unskilful laugh, cannot but make the judicious

grieve; the censure of the which one must in your allowance

o'erweigh a whole theatre of others. O, there be players that I

have seen play, and heard others praise, and that highly (not to

speak it profanely), that, neither having the accent of

Christians, nor the gait of Christian, pagan, nor man, have so

strutted and bellowed that I have thought some of Nature's

journeymen had made men, and not made them well, they imitated

humanity so abominably.

Birdo. I hope we have reform'd that indifferently with us, sir.

Mario. O, reform it altogether! And let those that play your clowns

speak no more than is set down for them. For there be of them

that will themselves laugh, to set on some quantity of barren

spectators to laugh too, though in the mean time some necessary

question of the play be then to be considered. That's villanous

and shows a most pitiful ambition in the fool that uses it. Go

make you ready.

[Exeunt Players.]

Enter Kamek, Wario, and Waluigi. Music of Muda Kingdom from Super Mario Land.

How now, my lord? Will the King hear this piece of work?

Kamek. And the Queen too, and that presently.

Mario. Bid the players make haste, [Exit Kamek.] Will you two

help to hasten them?

Wario. [with Waluigi] We will, my lord.

Exeunt they two.

Mario. What, ho, Horatio!

Enter Luigi.

Luigi. Here, sweet lord, at your service.

Mario. Horatio, thou art e'en as just a man

As e'er my conversation cop'd withal.

Luigi. O, my dear lord!

Mario. Nay, do not think I flatter;

For what advancement may I hope from thee,

That no revenue hast but thy good spirits

To feed and clothe thee? Why should the poor be flatter'd?

No, let the candied tongue lick absurd pomp,

And crook the pregnant hinges of the knee

Where thrift may follow fawning. Dost thou hear?

Since my dear soul was mistress of her choice

And could of men distinguish, her election

Hath seal'd thee for herself. For thou hast been

As one, in suff'ring all, that suffers nothing;

A man that Fortune's buffets and rewards

Hast ta'en with equal thanks; and blest are those

Whose blood and judgment are so well commingled

That they are not a pipe for Fortune's finger

To sound what stop she please. Give me that man

That is not passion's slave, and I will wear him

In my heart's core, ay, in my heart of heart,

As I do thee. Something too much of this I

There is a play to-night before the King.

One scene of it comes near the circumstance,

Which I have told thee, of my father's death.

I prithee, when thou seest that act afoot,

Even with the very comment of thy soul

Observe my uncle. If his occulted guilt

Do not itself unkennel in one speech,

It is a damned ghost that we have seen,

And my imaginations are as foul

As Vulcan's stithy. Give him heedful note;

For I mine eyes will rivet to his face,

And after we will both our judgments join

In censure of his seeming.

Luigi. Well, my lord.

If he steal aught the whilst this play is playing,

And scape detecting, I will pay the theft.

Sound a flourish. Enter Trumpets and Kettledrums. Danish

march. [nter Bowser, Peach, Wendy, Wario, Waluigi,

and other Lords attendant, with the Guard carrying torches. Commence character select screen from Super Mario Bros 2

Mario. They are coming to the play. I must be idle.

Get you a place.

Bowser. How fares our cousin Hamlet?

Mario. Excellent, i' faith; of the chameleon's dish. I eat the air,

promise-cramm'd. You cannot feed capons so.

Bowser. I have nothing with this answer, Hamlet. These words are not

mine.

Mario. No, nor mine now. [To Kamek] My lord, you play'd once

i' th' university, you say?

Kamek. That did I, my lord, and was accounted a good actor.

Mario. What did you enact?

Kamek. I did enact Julius Caesar; I was kill'd i' th' Capitol; Brutus

kill'd me.

Mario. It was a brute part of him to kill so capital a calf there. Be

the players ready.

Wario. Ay, my lord. They stay upon your patience.

Peach. Come hither, my dear Hamlet, sit by me.

Mario. No, good mother. Here's metal more attractive.

Kamek. [to the King] O, ho! do you mark that?

Mario. Lady, shall I lie in your lap?

[Sits down at Wendy’s feet.]

Wendy. No, my lord.

Mario. I mean, my head upon your lap?

Wendy. Ay, my lord.

Mario. Do you think I meant country matters?

Wendy. I think nothing, my lord.

Mario. That's a fair thought to lie between maids' legs.

Wendy. What is, my lord?

Mario. Nothing.

Wendy. You are merry, my lord.

Mario. Who, I?

Wendy. Ay, my lord.

Mario. O God, your only jig-maker! What should a man do but be merry?

For look you how cheerfully my mother looks, and my father died

within 's two hours.

Wendy. Nay 'tis twice two months, my lord.

Mario. So long? Nay then, let the devil wear black, for I'll have a

suit of sables. O heavens! die two months ago, and not forgotten

yet? Then there's hope a great man's memory may outlive his life

half a year. But, by'r Lady, he must build churches then; or else

shall he suffer not thinking on, with the hobby-horse, whose

epitaph is 'For O, for O, the hobby-horse is forgot!'

[Hautboys play. The dumb show enters.]

Enter Wart and Rosalina very lovingly; Rosalina embracing

him and he her. She kneels, and makes show of protestation

unto him. He takes her up, and declines his head upon her

neck. He lays him down upon a bank of flowers. She, seeing

him asleep, leaves him. Anon comes in a fellow, takes off his

crown, kisses it, pours poison in the sleeper's ears, and

leaves him. Rosalina returns, finds Wart dead, and makes

passionate action. Mallow with some three or four Mutes,

comes in again, seem to condole with her. The dead body is

carried away. Mallow wooes the Queen with gifts; she

seems harsh and unwilling awhile, but in the end accepts

his love.

Exeunt.

Wendy. What means this, my lord?

Mario. Marry, this is miching malhecho; it means mischief.

Wendy. Belike this show imports the argument of the play.

Enter Prologue. Cue Delfino Airstrip.

Mario. We shall know by this fellow. The players cannot keep counsel;

they'll tell all.

Wendy. Will he tell us what this show meant?

Mario. Ay, or any show that you'll show him. Be not you asham'd to

show, he'll not shame to tell you what it means.

Wendy. You are naught, you are naught! I'll mark the play.

Pro. For us, and for our tragedy,

Here stooping to your clemency,

We beg your hearing patiently. [Exit.]

Mario. Is this a prologue, or the posy of a ring?

Wendy. 'Tis brief, my lord.

Mario. As woman's love.

Enter Wart and Rosalina

Wart. Full thirty times hath Phoebus' cart gone round

Neptune's salt wash and Tellus' orbed ground,

And thirty dozen moons with borrowed sheen

About the world have times twelve thirties been,

Since love our hearts, and Hymen did our hands,

Unite comutual in most sacred bands.

Rosalina. So many journeys may the sun and moon

Make us again count o'er ere love be done!

But woe is me! you are so sick of late,

So far from cheer and from your former state.

That I distrust you. Yet, though I distrust,

Discomfort you, my lord, it nothing must;

For women's fear and love holds quantity,

In neither aught, or in extremity.

Now what my love is, proof hath made you know;

And as my love is siz'd, my fear is so.

Where love is great, the littlest doubts are fear;

Where little fears grow great, great love grows there.

Wart. Faith, I must leave thee, love, and shortly too;

My operant powers their functions leave to do.

And thou shalt live in this fair world behind,

Honour'd, belov'd, and haply one as kind

For husband shalt thou-

Rosalina. O, confound the rest!

Such love must needs be treason in my breast.

When second husband let me be accurst!

None wed the second but who killed the first.

Mario. [aside] Wormwood, wormwood!

Peach. The instances that second marriage move

Are base respects of thrift, but none of love.

A second time I kill my husband dead

When second husband kisses me in bed.

Wart. I do believe you think what now you speak;

But what we do determine oft we break.

Purpose is but the slave to memory,

Of violent birth, but poor validity;

Which now, like fruit unripe, sticks on the tree,

But fall unshaken when they mellow be.

Most necessary 'tis that we forget

To pay ourselves what to ourselves is debt.

What to ourselves in passion we propose,

The passion ending, doth the purpose lose.

The violence of either grief or joy

Their own enactures with themselves destroy.

Where joy most revels, grief doth most lament;

Grief joys, joy grieves, on slender accident.

This world is not for aye, nor 'tis not strange

That even our loves should with our fortunes change;

For 'tis a question left us yet to prove,

Whether love lead fortune, or else fortune love.

The great man down, you mark his favourite flies,

The poor advanc'd makes friends of enemies;

And hitherto doth love on fortune tend,

For who not needs shall never lack a friend,

And who in want a hollow friend doth try,

Directly seasons him his enemy.

But, orderly to end where I begun,

Our wills and fates do so contrary run

That our devices still are overthrown;

Our thoughts are ours, their ends none of our own.

So think thou wilt no second husband wed;

But die thy thoughts when thy first lord is dead.

Rosalina. Nor earth to me give food, nor heaven light,

Sport and repose lock from me day and night,

To desperation turn my trust and hope,

An anchor's cheer in prison be my scope,

Each opposite that blanks the face of joy

Meet what I would have well, and it destroy,

Both here and hence pursue me lasting strife,

If, once a widow, ever I be wife!

Mario. If she should break it now!

Wart. 'Tis deeply sworn. Sweet, leave me here awhile.

My spirits grow dull, and fain I would beguile

The tedious day with sleep.

Rosalina. Sleep rock thy brain,

[He sleeps.]

Rosalina. And never come mischance between us twain!

Exit.

Mario. Madam, how like you this play?

Peach. The lady doth protest too much, methinks.

Mario. O, but she'll keep her word.

Bowser. Have you heard the argument? Is there no offence in't?

Mario. No, no! They do but jest, poison in jest; no offence i' th'

world.

Bowser. What do you call the play?

Mario. 'The Mousetrap.' Marry, how? Tropically. This play is the

image of a murther done in Vienna. Gonzago is the duke's name;

his wife, Baptista. You shall see anon. 'Tis a knavish piece of

work; but what o' that? Your Majesty, and we that have free

souls, it touches us not. Let the gall'd jade winch; our withers

are unwrung. Enter Mallow.

This is one Lucianus, nephew to the King.

Wendy. You are as good as a chorus, my lord.

Hamlet. I could interpret between you and your love, if I could see

the puppets dallying.

Wendy. You are keen, my lord, you are keen.

Mario. It would cost you a groaning to take off my edge.

Wendy. Still better, and worse.

Mario. So you must take your husbands.- Begin, murtherer. Pox, leave

thy damnable faces, and begin! Come, the croaking raven doth

bellow for revenge.

Mallow. Thoughts black, hands apt, drugs fit, and time agreeing; Confederate season, else no creature seeing; Thou mixture rank, of midnight weeds collected, With Hecate's ban thrice blasted, thrice infected, Thy natural magic and dire property On wholesome life usurp immediately.

Pours the poison in his ears. Play The Sword Descends and The Stars Scatter from Super Mario RPG: Legend of the Seven Stars

Mario. He poisons him i' th' garden for's estate. His name's Gonzago.

The story is extant, and written in very choice Italian. You

shall see anon how the murtherer gets the love of Gonzago's wife.

Peach. The King rises.

Mario. What, frighted with false fire?

Peach. How fares my lord?

Kamek. Give o'er the play.

Bowser. Give me some light! Away!

All. Lights, lights, lights!

Exeunt all but Mario and Luigi. Cue underground music from Super Mario World 2: Yoshi’s Island.

Mario. Why, let the strucken deer go weep,

The hart ungalled play;

For some must watch, while some must sleep:

Thus runs the world away.

Would not this, sir, and a forest of feathers- if the rest of my

fortunes turn Turk with me-with two Provincial roses on my raz'd

shoes, get me a fellowship in a cry of players, sir?

Luigi. Half a share.

Mario. A whole one I!

For thou dost know, O Damon dear,

This realm dismantled was

Of Jove himself; and now reigns here

A very, very- pajock.

Luigi. You might have rhym'd.

Mario. O good Horatio, I'll take the ghost's word for a thousand

pound! Didst perceive?

Luigi. Very well, my lord.

Mario. Upon the talk of the poisoning?

Luigi. I did very well note him.

Mario. Aha! Come, some music! Come, the recorders!

For if the King like not the comedy,

Why then, belike he likes it not, perdy.

Come, some music!

Enter Wario and Waluigi.

Waluigi. Good my lord, vouchsafe me a word with you.

Mario. Sir, a whole history.

Waluigi. The King, sir-

Mario. Ay, sir, what of him?

Waluigi. Is in his retirement, marvellous distemper'd.

Mario. With drink, sir?

Waluigi. No, my lord; rather with choler.

Mario. Your wisdom should show itself more richer to signify this to

the doctor; for me to put him to his purgation would perhaps

plunge him into far more choler.

Waluigi. Good my lord, put your discourse into some frame, and start

not so wildly from my affair.

Mario. I am tame, sir; pronounce.

Waluigi. The Queen, your mother, in most great affliction of spirit

hath sent me to you.

Mario. You are welcome.

Waluigi. Nay, good my lord, this courtesy is not of the right breed.

If it shall please you to make me a wholesome answer, I will do

your mother's commandment; if not, your pardon and my return

shall be the end of my business.

Mario. Sir, I cannot.

Waluigi. What, my lord?

Mario. Make you a wholesome answer; my wit's diseas'd. But, sir, such

answer as I can make, you shall command; or rather, as you say,

my mother. Therefore no more, but to the matter! My mother, you

say-

Wario. Then thus she says: your behaviour hath struck her into

amazement and admiration.

Mario. O wonderful son, that can so stonish a mother! But is there no

sequel at the heels of this mother's admiration? Impart.

Wario. She desires to speak with you in her closet ere you go to bed.

Hamlet. We shall obey, were she ten times our mother. Have you any

further trade with us?

Wario. My lord, you once did love me.

Mario. And do still, by these pickers and stealers!

Wario. Good my lord, what is your cause of distemper? You do surely

bar the door upon your own liberty, if you deny your griefs to

your friend.

Mario. Sir, I lack advancement.

Wario. How can that be, when you have the voice of the King himself

for your succession in Denmark?

Mario. Ay, sir, but 'while the grass grows'- the proverb is something

musty.

[Enter Diddy Kong and Dixie Kong with recorders. ]

O, the recorders! Let me see one. To withdraw with you- why do

you go about to recover the wind of me, as if you would drive me

into a toil?

Guildenstern. O my lord, if my duty be too bold, my love is too unmannerly.

Mario. I do not well understand that. Will you play upon this pipe?

Waluigi. My lord, I cannot.

Mario. I pray you.

Waluigi. Believe me, I cannot.

Mario. I do beseech you.

Waluigi. I know, no touch of it, my lord.

Mario. It is as easy as lying. Govern these ventages with your

fingers and thumbs, give it breath with your mouth, and it will

discourse most eloquent music. Look you, these are the stops.

Waluigi. But these cannot I command to any utt'rance of harmony. I

have not the skill.

Mario. Why, look you now, how unworthy a thing you make of me! You

would play upon me; you would seem to know my stops; you would

pluck out the heart of my mystery; you would sound me from my

lowest note to the top of my compass; and there is much music,

excellent voice, in this little organ, yet cannot you make it

speak. 'Sblood, do you think I am easier to be play'd on than a

pipe? Call me what instrument you will, though you can fret me,

you cannot play upon me.

[Enter Kamek.]

God bless you, sir!

Kamek. My lord, the Queen would speak with you, and presently.

Mario. Do you see yonder cloud that's almost in shape of a camel?

Kamek. By th' mass, and 'tis like a camel indeed.

Mario. Methinks it is like a weasel.

Kamek. It is back'd like a weasel.

Mario. Or like a whale.

Kamek. Very like a whale.

Mario. Then will I come to my mother by-and-by.- They fool me to the

top of my bent.- I will come by-and-by.

Kamek. I will say so. Exit.

Mario. 'By-and-by' is easily said.- Leave me, friends.

Exeunt all but Mario. Tune from Corona Mountain reverberates.

'Tis now the very witching time of night,

When churchyards yawn, and hell itself breathes out

Contagion to this world. Now could I drink hot blood

And do such bitter business as the day

Would quake to look on. Soft! now to my mother!

O heart, lose not thy nature; let not ever

The soul of Nero enter this firm bosom.

Let me be cruel, not unnatural;

I will speak daggers to her, but use none.

My tongue and soul in this be hypocrites-

How in my words somever she be shent,

To give them seals never, my soul, consent! Exit.

#Super Mario #Shakespeare #Hamlet #Play within a play #Wart #Rosalina #Mallow from Super Mario RPG

1 note · View note

victorianoir · 7 years ago

Text

“The Tech Guy’s Promise”

Welcome back to The Detective and the Tech Guy. As we dive back into the world of Sarah Walker, P.I. and her ultra-rich tech mogul boyfriend, remember that a lot has happened to get them here. If this is your first foray into DATG, I’ve put together an entire Master Post. You can catch up there! Or, if you’d rather, check out the fanfiction.net version HERE.

Enjoy, CHUCK fans. ;)

XOXOXOXOXOXO

Chuck made a face as he swiped at Sarah’s sweater with a wet cloth, trying his best to clean the mess without smearing.

“Sorry,” he heard Ellie chime in from over his shoulder. “Sometimes she misses the burping cloth.”

Sarah just giggled, shaking her head. “It’s okay. I said I didn’t mind holding her after she just ate so I sort of asked for it, didn’t I?” Chuck didn’t entirely feel like she did ask for it. It was like Clara had aimed for anything but the cloth. But he couldn’t blame her; she was so damn cute and had so much of her mom’s personality already. “Though I will say, I didn’t expect to be wiping baby barf off of my shirt today when I put it on this morning,” she added good-naturedly.

Ellie snorted, walking around them to grab a few paper towels from the nearby roll and handing them to Chuck. “That’s not something I can say.”

Sarah giggled again and took the towels from Chuck as he inexpertly continued trying to help her. “It’s okay, I got it.” She moved over to the sink and cleaned it herself, dabbing with wet towels until there was a wet splotch on her sweater and no trace of Clara’s spit-up.

“How are my ladies doin’?” Devon asked, walking around into the kitchen.

“Oh, we’re great, Devon, thanks,” Chuck drawled.

“Oh. Sorry, bro,” the surgeon chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

Chuck rolled his eyes teasingly as Ellie looked up from making faces at her squirming daughter. “Sarah took one for the team.”

“Aw man! Barf jet made its landing, huh? She likes bright colors.”

Ellie rolled her eyes. “Devon. Stop.”

“What? It’s a good theory!” he said defensively, holding his hands out. “She’s only ever barfed on us when we’re wearing bright colors. Never when we’re in darks and pastels. I think she hates pink the most.”

“Remind me not to wear pink, huh, Chuck?” Sarah said.

“Don’t play into my husband’s weird-ass theories, Sarah,” Chuck’s sister said, switching Clara’s weight to her other arm. “Wear whatever color you want to wear.”

“How does she feel about stripes?” Chuck asked, and Ellie rushed over to clamp her hand over Devon’s mouth as he made to answer.

She glared over her shoulder at her brother. “I hate you.”

Chuck laughed and shoved his hands in his pockets, leaning back against the counter in his kitchen. He watched as Devon pulled Ellie’s hand away from his mouth and beamed at her in that charming way of his. “Well, whether my little bumblebee nugget hates certain colors or not, she’s definitely tuckered out. Big time.”

They all looked and, indeed, Clara was out cold against her mom’s chest, her little fists curled up under her chin like little pink rosebuds. Everyone let out quiet little “awwww”s and stared for a bit.

Devon moved first. “Think it’s time to get her in her carseat. While she’s this far gone. Or she’ll fight us like a demon and it’ll take a half hour to get her in.”

“Plus insane screaming for an entire car ride,” Ellie whispered, rocking Clara a little to keep her asleep.

“I’ll get our things,” Devon chirped, rushing out of the kitchen to scrounge up their belongings. Chuck felt a little bereft at the thought of them leaving so soon, but with Clara here now, the two of them had much less time to visit. Their lives revolved around her eating and sleeping. It made sense. They needed to find some way to sleep themselves between all of that.

He just didn’t know how much longer Ellie and Devon would stay in Los Angeles before going back home to San Francisco. Ellie mentioned how rough it would be, driving with their newborn for seven hours straight. Was it even safe?

“I have to pee. Who gets the little bundle of joy?”

“ME!” both he and Sarah rushed out. Chuck reached out his arms first, though, and sent Sarah a pout he was relatively sure had some power with his girlfriend. She relented and crossed her arms with a bit of a glare. “In my defense, you’ve gotten to hold her all day, Sarah Walker, P.I. Let the tech guy have a turn with his niece, hm?”

“Fiiiiine,” she drawled, and he saw the mirth beneath her own pout.

He reached out with grabby hands as his sister handed him her daughter. “Yaaaay,” he whispered, pulling his niece in and cradling her close against his chest. She curled into more of a ball against him and drooled a bit on his nice button-up and he didn’t care even a bit.

As Ellie moved out of the kitchen to visit Chuck’s bathroom, Sarah sidled up to him and pressed her cheek into his shoulder. “I always thought people were such freaking liars when they talked about how cute babies are, but your niece is so cute it almost hurts.”

“I know. She makes me feel like my soul is made out of ice cream, sunshine, and fluffy clouds of happiness. I realize clouds and sunshine are contradictory, but it’s just how I feel.”

Sarah giggled and turned her face a little to nuzzle his shoulder over his shirt. “She almost looks like you. The little bit at the end of her nose that goes bwoop.”

“I have a little bit at the end of my nose that goes bwoop?”

She looked up at him and nodded.

“Huh. Didn’t realize that. Hey, I have a little mini-me, then. But, like, a girl version. This is quite a gig, you know? I get to cuddle, swaddle, and snuggle…with a few poopy diaper changes in the middle…but none of the really awful stuff like not sleeping, hearing all of the angry crying.”

“Not ready for all of the responsibility type things, then?” she teased.

“Uhhhhh, no.”

“So…then…you’re not going to do that shitty romcom trope where the guy goes around with someone else’s baby to attract chicks?” She was flirting hard. The way her eyes flashed as she peered up at him through her lashes, pursing her lips and twisting them to the side.

Chuck scoffed. “Okay. One? I don’t need no chick magnet. Case in point…” He dragged his gaze down Sarah’s body and back up again. She snorted and tilted her head, wordlessly granting him that one. “Two? That doesn’t even work in real life. Most women aren’t that easy. Nor are they idiots. And three? Ellie already banned Morgan from being alone with Clara for even suggesting he might do that, and he was joking. So…”

Sarah laughed quietly and stepped back as Ellie came back in the room.

“Dear God, please tell me she’s still asleep,” she said with a wince.

“Like a baby.” He opened his mouth and gave both of them a ta daaaa grin and didn’t get even a bit of the reaction he’d wanted. Instead they merely gave one another flat looks.

“Just for that, give me my daughter back.”

Sarah laughed as he pouted and handed Clara back to her mother.

Minutes later, the Woodcombs were gone, practically tiptoeing away to keep Clara from waking up before they got her to the car, and leaving Chuck and Sarah alone in his condo.

He let out a long breath and smiled to himself, going into the kitchen to start drying the dishes they’d left in the rack next to the sink. He hummed to himself, mopping at the plates with a towel. He’d half-expected Sarah to join him, the way she usually did…sidle up behind him, grab the towel out of his hand to tease him or grab another towel and help…

And after a few minutes, Chuck set everything down and wandered out of his kitchen, stepping into the living room. He found her on the couch, sitting upright, staring down at her laptop that was propped on her knees.

Her face was set in concentration, her eyes flicking back and forth on the screen. And then he saw a flicker of annoyance on her face, disappointment. And she cursed under her breath, slamming the laptop shut with an emphatic click.

She looked up then and saw he was watching. Immediately, a smile swept over her face but it was forced. Very forced. And it frustrated him that she even attempted it.

“Dishes all done?” she asked, setting her laptop on the coffee table in front of her and folding her hands in her lap.

“Nah, just gonna let them dry on their own. That’s what this rack thingy is for, right? Sarah, are you okay?” He wasn’t going to let her deflect this time.

“What do you mean? Do I not seem okay?”

He shoved his hands in his pockets and wandered closer. “I mean, for the most part, yeah.” He shrugged. “But you’ve been a little… I don’t know…like something’s bothering you. Pretty much all day.”

When she came over in the afternoon to help him cook for Ellie and Devon, she’d been completely fine at first. But then he’d noticed she kept checking her phone for something. Or she’d pull out her laptop and look at it, then snap it shut like she’d just done again a minute ago, an annoyed look on her face. And then he’d caught her wringing her hands at least twice, though he hadn’t said anything about it. Then there was the fiddling of her fingers…like she did when she was worried.

Maybe she was worried…Or impatient? He closed the distance between them a bit more.

“Is it the agency? Everything okay over there?”

She snorted and gave him a flat look. “Same thing as always. Still trying to get clients. You know that.” With a shrug, she pushed herself to her feet and reached out to take his hand, pulling him the rest of the way so that she could drape her arms over his shoulders and look up at him.

He met her soft gaze and smiled with a short nod. Then he pulled his lips between his teeth and narrowed his eyes thoughtfully. “You seem…I don’t know…almost worried. More than usual.”

She shook her head with a sigh. “Chuck, there’s nothing going on. Just typical adulting stuff. Seriously. I’m good.”

“There’s nothing going on you say. Then in the very next sentence: ‘Just typical adulting stuff.’ Sarah, I’m an adult. I have to deal with adulting as well. You wanna get it off your chest, I might be sympathetic.” He gave her a crooked smile and bumped her nose with his.

“I’m f—”

“Don’t you dare say you’re fine. You’re obsessed with Clara’s pudgy little legs and tonight I saw you were so distracted you didn’t pinch ‘em once and that seems like a big deal to me. More than just regular adult stuff. So out with it.”

Sarah rolled her eyes and tried to pull away but he held fast.

“Sarah—”

“I’m late.”

Chuck blinked, and he felt himself pale. The blood rushed in his ears. And all he could do was stare. “Y—You’re … wha—?”

Sarah furrowed her brow for a moment, and then she paled as well, her eyes widening. “No!” A nervous huff came out of her. “That’s not—No, I’m—Not that. No!”

“Oh!” A harsh breath came out of him and he shook his head, swallowing thickly. Relief swam through him. “I—I—Oh.” He swallowed again. “Oh.”

“How is that the first thing you jumped to?” she asked, just barely regaining some of her color.

“THERE WAS JUST A BABY HERE, SARAH.” He heard his voice getting a little high pitched, a little hysterical, but that had been a major shock to his system.

“Let’s go ahead and move away from that subject completely,” she interjected and he nodded.

“God, yes. Please.”

“My rent,” she amended. “I’m late paying my rent. And…And I guess I’m just nervous. Frustrated.” She looked to still be composing herself a little. Apparently he hadn’t been the only one to get a shock to his system. But why the hell had she phrased it like that?

And then what she said sunk in, and he did a bit of a double take. “Wait. Wait, wait. Your rent?” He stepped in closer, holding her by her elbows. “Why didn’t you tell me this earlier? Does your apartment still have electricity? Heat?”

“No! I mean yes. Yes, it does. But no, it isn’t my apartment, Chuck. It’s the agency. I’m late with the rent for my office space. I have to pay the apartment rent…I mean, it’s where I live. But the office…I can maybe let that one go for a little while without it being too much of an issue.”

He didn’t like the way she said that, how she shrugged—putting on a nonchalant act when he could see beneath the facade that this bothered her quite a bit.

“How long?” he asked, frowning.

“Um…” She gnawed on her bottom lip. “Tomorrow will be two weeks.”

“What?!”

“I just have to wait for—” She stopped, her eyes darted to the side, and she shut her mouth, her lips thinning. Then she continued again, this time sounding a bit more controlled, the way she sometimes had spoken to him back when she was the lead detective for B.E.C.’s case over a year and a half ago. “I’ve got some money I’m waiting on, something coming in. Then I can pay Jorge and I’ll be totally caught up.”

“You’ve got money you’re waiting on? From where? One of your clients not paying you?” He would send her to their doorstep with his company’s attorney in tow.

“No, not a client. Just, uh…Someone owes me money and they’re sending it to me. Soon.”

Chuck felt that she wanted this particular strain of discussion to end, but he didn’t want it to. He had so many questions. He wanted to know who owed her money. Who the hell was this person she was relying on to be able to pay her rent for her office space? Whomever it was, Chuck absolutely didn’t trust them. Not when having that space was so incredibly important. If she lost that, she’d be forced backwards in making her dream agency a reality, and he’d be damned if he’d let that happen.

For the moment, he decided to push his questions to the side, table them for later. Instead, he said, “Well, just let me give Jorge the money for now—”

“No.” She said it in a very emphatic voice, her tone almost a little hard, even.

“What d’you mean, no? I can—”

“No.”

He blinked. “Sarah—”

“No!” She grabbed his face in her hands, still gentle, imploring. “Chuck, you’re not paying my rent.”

Letting out a huff, the tech guy shrugged and set his hands on her hips, pulling her in closer. “Fine, then. I can give him the rent money, you can pay me back when the—whoever it is pays you back.”

It seemed incredibly simple to him. It was just like a placeholder. Jorge would have the rent and he’d get off of Sarah’s back. It was the perfect solution.

“No, Chuck, I’m not gonna have my boyfriend be my own personal loan agency. That isn’t how this is gonna work. No.”

“Sarah, I’m not a loan agency. I’m just the guy who loves you and wants you to keep your office.” Then he pulled a silly face and smoldered for her, the way he knew she liked. “I’ve got plenty of money, after all,” he teased.

But none of it did what he’d hoped, and she merely sighed and shut her eyes tiredly. “That’s just it, Chuck. I’ll be no better than…” she paused, “people think I am.”

He knew inherently that she was referring to his mom. His own mother was making the woman he loved doubt herself, her business, and worst of all, their relationship. And it hurt him that Sarah was so conscious of it, that it bothered her enough she brought it up this often.

Chuck nodded then, and held his hands up in surrender. “Alright. I give in.”

“You’re not gonna push me on this anymore?” she asked, tilting her head. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Do you promise to let me take care of this? I will take care of it. It’s important and I’m handling it as such. I’ve got it.”

He nodded.

“You promise?” she probed.

“Yes.” He paused and leaned in to kiss her warmly and her body melted into his, her arms sliding around his neck. As they pulled back a moment later, lips still brushing, he murmured an extra “I promise” and reveled in the feeling of her mouth smiling against his.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

She’d seen it one thousand times before. And in many different forms.

How many promises had her father made to her that he hadn’t kept? At this point in her life, Sarah Walker estimated it was nearing a couple hundred. Maybe more than that even. Promises he hadn’t kept that she didn’t know about.

This was just another promise of his and she was unendingly angry with herself for falling into what was undoubtedly just another lie, another trap, another let down. That was how it ended, nine times out of ten. With her pissed and shattered, vowing to never talk to him again. …And then she’d accept his call again, open his email, read his text, and it’d be a vicious cycle. Like it always was. She always came out the worse for the wear.

Her life was different now, though. She had more riding on her decisions than just her own well-being. She had a path, a challenge ahead of her. Nothing was concrete like it had been with Pinkerton. She was secure there, knew what she was getting into every single day, even on the most dangerous cases. Now her future was up in the air, things were changing…but she had a path to follow. And in spite of it being her path, and hers alone, Chuck Bartowski was still there.

This wasn’t just about her anymore.

She had someone else to protect from all of this.

He’d made her a promise, too. Only, unlike her father, he would keep his. He always did. Unfailingly.

And maybe that was part of what drew her to him. Chuck was the most dependable person she’d ever had in her life, and she thought he was maybe the most dependable person anyone who knew him had in their lives.

It wasn’t about his money. Of course a man who had pockets as deep as his were wouldn’t have trouble being dependable. With all of that money at his disposal, he could afford to be that way.

It was just him, the way he was. Inherently. From the time she’d spent with Ellie in the last year or so, she’d discovered a lot about Chuck’s past, and who he was then. Even Morgan had been a good source. The stories of Chuck stepping in when Morgan needed a champion as a smaller kid on the playground being pushed around by bullies. Her boyfriend had gotten himself a black eye in seventh grade after refusing to leave his best friend alone in the hallway with a couple of asshole eighth graders.

Chuck had dependability already in him when he was born. It was a trait that set the tech genius far, far apart from her father, the only other man who’d been important in her life. He’d been a pillar in her life until…well, until he hadn’t been.

Sarah didn’t like the idea of that being why she’d fallen for Chuck so hard and so quickly—that he was the total opposite from her father. It felt almost dysfunctional, in a weird way. And she knew that wasn’t it, at least not completely. Because her attraction to him had been immediate, before she’d even known about him, before she’d gotten to know what he was like, what drove him. The moment he’d met her eyes, something had been there. Maybe not love—love at first sight was a sappy, paltry sentiment that only existed in movies. But it was a powerful attraction all the same.

Something had pulled at her, making her want to do more than just read the dossier on him. Her walls had come down so fast that she’d flirted with him, on the tape recorded, in her very first interview with him about the case. It was ridiculous and unprofessional and so unlike her.

And it was a testament to how singular this was, this relationship, them as a couple.

It had little to nothing to do with her problems with her father. And everything to do with the way they fit so well together. Her relationship with Chuck Bartowski was seamless. It wasn’t without its flaws, it certainly wasn’t perfect, but it was seamless.

So when Chuck made a promise, she believed him. In spite of how often others had broken their promises to her, in spite of how often those others had hurt her.

But that didn’t make her any less of an idiot for trusting her father again.

He said the money would be in the mail. And by that, she figured he meant a check. He owed it to her. He owed more than that to her…but that went so deep, she couldn’t even begin working all of it out, so instead she focused on the money.

His words had felt so meaningless at the time: “I’ll never be able to pay all of this back to you.”

And his “thank you, darlin’” meant even less. But she’d done it anyway.

And still…She was doing this…trusting him.

No, she wasn’t trusting him. She didn’t trust him. She never would again. But she was desperate enough now. She needed this. And she thought that if she’d never helped her dad in the first place, she wouldn’t be in the current predicament she was in, because she’d have more than enough to pay her rent, both her home and her agency.

So she would accept this blasted check, if it ever came like he’d promised her it would.

Before she’d hung up on him.

She would cash it. And she would pay everything off. And then she’d be back on track and Chuck wouldn’t have to worry about her anymore like she knew he was.

She knew how hard it was for him to understand and accept her choices. And she didn’t feel like she needed to explain everything for him to get why she was so adamant. It filled her with relief the other night when he’d promised her he would step back and let her handle all of this on her own. And he’d promised twice.

He was trustworthy.

She trusted him to keep his word.

Because he always had before.

XOXOXOXOXOXOXOXO

He switched his gaze from the picture on the left to that on the right. Then back again. Chuck finally groaned and pushed his hands through his hair. “This sucks. I hate making decisions.”

Adisa huffed and set the plans he’d been holding up for his boss on the desk, one on top of the other. “Well, you have time with those. I think the issue that’s the most pressing is whether or not you can get both Neil and Bill on the same stage…at the same time. If you can promise that, people won’t care whether the rest of STEMCon is a complete failure.”

Chuck slid his droll gaze up to his assistant. “Thank you, Adisa.”

“Sorry.” He fixed his glasses and cleared his throat, folding his hands together in front of him. “My point, really, is that I think there are a few things that will really sell this convention if you get them right, whether everything else is perfect or not.”

Chuck let out a long sigh and nodded. “No, you’re right. You’re right. Definitely. And I think the Techosaurus Rex would probably be best for the main lobby, when pass holders are first walking in. Robotic dinosaur versus a giant brain? I mean, come on.”

“Always go with the dinosaur. I absolutely agree.”

“Great. Well…that’s one thing we’ve got settled. TAGBot’s got the job. Hopefully it doesn’t cost an arm and a leg…”

“Or a brain. That would be kind of ironic.”

“Ha!” Chuck pointed at his assistant. “I see what you did there. Get me TAGBot on the phone. Gah, what was the guy’s name I was talking to…? Get h—”

He was interrupted by his office door being opened.

His mother pushed right on in, stopping in the middle of the room. “Sorry, was I interrupting? Still planning that convention, sweetie?”

“Uh, yeah, still planning it. Hi, Mom. That was…uh, abrupt.”

“Well, I’m your mother. And technically my husband is your boss.” She sent him a teasing smile to let him know she wasn’t serious, but it still irked him a little.

“Uh, thanks Adisa. I’ll call ‘em later to let them know what we’ll need from them.”

“Of course, Ch—er, Mr. Bartowski.” He started to move out of the room, but Chuck grabbed the plans and held them up towards him. “Oh. Yes! I’ll take these out of your way.” As he hurried past Mary Bartowski, he grinned. “Mrs. Bartowski, very nice to see you again, ma’am.”

“Good to see you, too, Adisa. How’s your mom and your sister?”

“Oh, they’re great. Tambara is looking into grants for college, so she’s been busy.”

“Well, if she needs help with that, Chuck would be the perfect candidate. He had to apply for every grant in the book, and Tambara having been born in Nigeria will definitely open quite a few doors there. My advice: take advantage of every opportunity.”

“Thank you, Mrs. Bartowski. I will surely pass that on to my sister,” he said good-naturedly. Chuck tried to keep the wince off of his face. “Let me know if you need me for anything else,” were the young man’s parting words, and then he went out to his own desk, shutting the door behind him.

“Mom, can you maybe cool it telling my assistant that his sister somehow has a leg up in applying for college because his family had to flee from their home country when they were kids?”

“That is not what I said.”

“Keep telling yourself that, Mom.”

“The Obafemi’s are a good family and they deserve good things. I hope you’re offering your help to his sister, though. Seriously.”

“Adisa went to MIT, Mom. I think Tambara has a pretty good resource in her brother. But anyway, what’s going on? I thought you were with dad in Encino for that recruitment meeting.”

“Mmm yes, we just got back.”

There was a long pause then. “Oooookaaaay, annndd…? Like, I’m not trying to be rude, I’m never rude to you, Mom,” she gave him a dubious look at that, “but you just seem like there’s something on your mind.”

“There’s nothing on my mind. I just feel like I haven’t seen you at all since Clara was born and I thought I could have some one on one time with my son.” She held her hands out defensively. “What’s so wrong with that?”

He chuckled. “Nothing wrong with that, Mom. I actually need to stretch my legs a bit and give my brain a rest. It’s kind of cloudy and brisk out there, but would you want to take a quick walk to the park?”

Mary Bartowski’s warm smile was all the answer he needed.

They eventually made their way to the nearby park, a block north from B.E.C.’s headquarters, walking in comfortable silence. And it wasn’t until they actually made their way onto the path that Chuck felt something else start to enter the comfortable silence—something slightly less comfortable.

He’d fallen for her game again. And damn him, but he’d helped it along by suggesting they leave the office. At least in his office he could text Adisa and ask him to pretend an important patron was on the line for him or something.

“You know, your father told me you didn’t even leave the office the other night. He said you were there when he left and there when he got in the next morning, and wearing the same suit. He’s worried about you,” she finally said, wrapping a hand around his arm. “So am I if that’s what you’ve been doing. It isn’t even safe to be in the building all alone like that.”

“It’s perfectly safe, Mom.”

“Charles, don’t ‘it’s perfectly safe’ me. You do remember that a man was murdered almost two years ago. Right near here. And the man who did it thought he was murdering your father. And the bomb in your cell phone? Oh, and the drive by attempt on your life?”

“That last one was actually an attempt on Sarah’s life. I just happened to be—Sorry,” he rushed out when she glared at him. “I know, I know. But there’s a guard in the building.”

“Mhm. One guard. That’s not the point, anyway. You need to get proper sleep or you’ll be of no use to anyone.”

Chuck let out a soft huff in amusement, having just heard that same thing from someone else the other day.

His mom squeezed his arm. “What’s that smile for?”

“Huh?”

“You just smiled and laughed a little.”

“Oh. Nah, nothing.”

“What?”

“It’s just that Sarah said the exact same thing you did, word for word, the other day. About me needing to sleep or I’ll be of no use to anyone.” He paused. “I mean, she said it more teasingly than you did, but she said it all the same.”

He watched his mom out of the corner of his eye, and saw the way her features became pinched—in annoyance, perhaps, at the reminder that Sarah was still here, that his relationship with the private investigator who’d saved his life a handful of times a year and a half ago was still a thing.

It made his chest hurt and it made him angry all at once.

“How is Sarah?” Mary asked then, lifting her chin, her voice brittle in the cold air.

“Oh, she’s fine. She’s good,” he amended, not wanting his mom to read into anything. “Focusing on getting the agency off the ground, picking up clients…”

“Is that so? Your father told me the clients just don’t seem to be biting. Not in those words. He was assuming. Said he bumped into her on her way down from your office and she seemed quiet and fatigued—you know, emotionally. Must not be going so well…”

Chuck took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “She just needs to get her name out there. She gets a few good references, and they’ll practically be kicking her door down.” His smile was a little too bright, he knew, and his mother was a smart woman. People oftentimes underestimated just how smart she was.

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Has she asked you for help yet?”

“What—?” He dropped the act and stopped walking, turning to face her. “No, she hasn’t asked me for help. Oh, do you mean how I’m paying for her lavish lifestyle?” he said sarcastically. “Funding her high society parties? Buying her a Maserati? Building her a chateau with stables up in the mountains? What do you think this is, Mom? Seriously.”

“I didn’t say any of those things. You did. I just asked if she asked for help yet. She obviously is hard for cash if she isn’t getting any clients. And her apartment is close enough to yours that I’m sure it costs her a small fortune, especially since she lives alone. Who’s paying for that?”

“She is,” he said, clenching his jaw. “No, you know what? I’m not answering any of your questions. Not anymore. Because my relationship with my girlfriend is none of your business.”

“What you do with the money your father’s company pays you is my business, Chuck. But most importantly, you’re my son. I love you. I don’t want to see you used and heartbroken.”

“She isn’t using me. And she has no intention of breaking anything of mine.”

“How do you even know that for sure?”

“Because we’re in love. Because I spend so much time with her that I know her, Mom. Because I trust her, the way you trust someone when you’re in a serious relationship. The way you trusted Dad when things were bleaker than they are now.” She looked away at that. “Money is nowhere in my relationship with Sarah. She goes out of her way to make sure I don’t help her. With anything. Even when I know she needs it. We’ve gotten into arguments about it. I try to help her all the time and she flat out refuses, contrary to what you might think of her. Trust me, I’ve tried to give her everything and she’s taken none of my offers. It’s almost infuriating. It is infuriating. It makes me feel crazy.” He huffed, annoyed he let his mom needle him enough to let that much out.

He pushed a hand through his hair, then smoothed down his tie. “Look, this family…” He licked his lips and shook his head, meeting her eyes. “This family has more money than we know what to do with. That’s just the truth. I’m so rich, I’m sure whatever money I die with will be enough for the next handful of generations that come after me to never work a day in their lives. What’s the point, though? What’s the point of having all of this if I can’t make the people I love comfortable? If I can’t help them to achieve their dreams?”

“Why can’t you just let her achieve her own dreams? Can she not get comfortable through her own hard work?”

“Don’t.” He shook his head, his jaw clenched. “Stop right there. If B.E.C. were my company back when Ellie was starting med school and shifting into neuroscience and surgery, would you have ranted and raved if I’d paid for Ellie’s education the way Dad did when the company was starting to pick up steam?”

She was silent for a few seconds. And then she looked up at him. “She’s your sister. It’s different.”

“It isn’t different.”

“Families help each other. Families stick together. Families help with things like that. Just like we did for your father. And look at how much we’ve all benefited. But family—”

“Sarah’s family.”

“She’s your girlfriend.”

“I love her, Mom. She’s the best thing to ever happen to me. She is family. When she needs help, when she needs a boost, it’s up to me to give it to her. I’m supposed to be supporting her.”

“Where’s her own family?”

He didn’t know. He didn’t know if she even had her own family. It didn’t matter, though. He was her family. And in spite of anything he might’ve told her before, it was his duty to protect her, to help her achieve her goals, and to make sure there were no roadblocks between her and her dreams.

Even if it was in spite of his mother.

“I mean, Charles, honestly…” She grabbed his arm and made him look at her. “I’m not saying this to hurt you. And I’m not saying this to give you doubts. I genuinely want to know what it is that is keeping her here. She can’t get that business off the ground. She’d probably have better luck in another city, like New York or something. Back to Chicago, maybe, where Pinkerton is. You know that’s in the back of her mind, always there in her head. She might be in love with you. In fact, she probably is. I don’t doubt that. I’m a woman and I know other women better than you could ever understand, and I’ve seen how she looks at you. But being with you has added benefits that have to come into play as she plans all of this. You’re rich, Charles. You are a pretty big safety net, in case that agency of hers falls apart. What happens if she never gets a client? You don’t think she’ll eventually let it all go, live off of your earnings? It’d be so easy. I wouldn’t even blame her for it. It’s a very tempting prospect, living without a care in the world, knowing you have someone to pay your bills, buy your food, house and clothe you…”

“No,” he said, knowing beyond all doubt that he was right. “She’ll never let it go. It’s her dream. It’s what she was born to do. And she’ll never be satisfied living off of my earnings. You don’t know her the way I do. She’d…” His voice drifted off. She’d leave first, had been what he was going to say. She’d build her agency somewhere else before she’d ever just give up and live off of him.

His mother had gotten deep under his skin without him even realizing it was happening.

So much so that even when they’d finished the walk and she’d excused herself with a kiss to his cheek as though the entire argument had never even happened in the first place, he’d found himself sitting at his desk, still thinking about the things she’d made him realize.

She was bitter and judgmental and overprotective and paranoid. The Bartowski’s success and fortune had done that to her.

There was no way in hell he’d ever think Sarah was with him for his money, no matter what his mom did or said. She could show him a picture of Sarah in a bath full of his money as proof and he’d laugh it off. … Or he’d think it was hot; that was also a possibility.

But all of her harping on the money issue had him wondering if things were worse than Sarah was leading on. She was struggling. He knew she was. And she would be kicked out of her office space, have no home for her agency, if she went much further along without paying the rent to the landlord. She’d be devastated, and he had no idea what she’d do about it. Would she try again? Find some other space in Los Angeles? Or would she see it as such a catastrophic failure that she’d decide she couldn’t make it in LA, and needed to build the business elsewhere, in some other city? Back in Chicago? Or New York? San Francisco? Somewhere far away from here, where he was rooted, stuck, trapped. He’d never be able to follow her, wherever she went. And the way their relationship had gotten so hard with the distance between them, could he do it again? Would she even want to? Or would all of this be over, after everything they meant to each other?

By the time he’d spiraled to the point where he wondered if he’d lose her altogether were she to get kicked out of the office space, he was already putting his jacket back on and grabbing his car keys. This wasn’t just about not wanting to lose her. It was about her dreams.

It was such a small thing in the grand scheme of her business. But it would help her so much.

And it was so easy for him to do it.

So he would.

Sarah wasn’t losing that office, even if it meant he had to do things his own way.

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