#i am a damn crow i love sparkly things

[transingthoseformers]

May i yet again love how formatted can be used in fics to enhance the experience

[traumxrei-archive]

【 glittering desires 】

author's note: here we go, this is the homage to the fact that fairy gala leona actually came home :'))) look this card is pretty but it was also pretty expensive haha- also we don't talk abt how fast i wrote this after i got the inspo... anyways. i hope you have fun reading this bc i sure had fun writing it !

characters: gn! prefect, leona kingscholar

word count: 1.6k

tags: leona is a bully /lh, your honor this man is madly in love, no bc he's so mushy and for what ??, he's 100% whipped, bc he's leona there's banter, he sees the prefect and he's like "wow sparkly...i love them..." that's it, that's the fic.

[ or read it on ao3 | the fairy gala collection ]

When he woke up from his nap, it was to the sound of their voice. At first, he thought it was his mind playing tricks on him; giving him dreams that were too far out of his reach. Dreams spun of laughter that were far too sweet to ever be fully his. Mere fantasies that Leona couldn't even believe in, let alone grasp.

And it was annoying how often he found himself dreaming of them lately. Especially after this stupid, annoying task that the damn crow assigned them. So he grunted, pressing his eyes shut further; hoping that the image of them would finally disappear.

That was until he felt the tug on his leg,  "Leo~na? Are you still asleep? Geez, how did you even make it up there?"

Ah. That was the real them, wasn't it?

Weighted eyelids eased open, watching as they clambered up the tree to get to him. He made no attempt to move; keeping his tail as still as he could. Instead, he watched— thoroughly amused— as they huffed, finally managing to haul themself onto a nearby branch.

He chose that moment to finally speak, "Crewel's gonna flip if you get that dirty."

Their shoulders jolted, " Sevens– How long have you been awake for?"

"Just now," Leona yawned, giving his neck a stretch. "What're you doing here?" He watched with unease as they situated themself on the branch. He reached for his magic pen, just in case.

"I was looking for you," They chuckled lightly. "Vil-senpai was flipping his lid over you escaping while he wasn't looking. He asked me to look for you."

"And?" Leona had to thank Vil for this opportunity. It wasn't often that he got time alone with them. "Did he think a herbivore like you could take me back there?"

"Stop being childish," They tutted, and the decorations on their clothes clinked as they moved. "You know Vil-senpai's only being harsh because we don't have much time. And besides, you're the centerpiece of our show."

"Damn right I am," Leona said, infusing his words with arrogance as a ploy. "And this star needs some rest from that guy's tyranny."

"C'mon, I'll accompany you back and watch your practice," They bargained, holding out a hand. And Leona considered it for a moment. Having them there would be better than not having them there. But that kind of deal was too easy.

He raised a brow, "You think that's gonna work?"

"Mmm, Ruggie-senpai told me to try it out," There was a foolish smile on their face. It made Leona look away; frustrated from how unaware they were. "Guess he was wrong."

"'Course he was."

"So then how will I get this great and mighty Leona-sama back to the practice rooms?" A hand was placed exaggeratedly on their chin.

Leona jumped down before they could say another word. It was better to let them trip over themselves to think of how to repay him. After all, the person who wants something is always at a disadvantage. They just had more to lose.

He brushed off his pants, untangling the sash before sparing them a glance, "You coming?"

"Wh- it took me five minutes to get up here-! Hey, don't leave without me!" Leona paused. His sharp eyes didn't miss a glint in the grass, pocketing the item as he waited. His ears twitched slightly, making sure that they didn't just face-plant on the ground.

A moment later and they were next to him, complaining all the while, "Why are you suddenly...no, this is a good thing. But–"

"Just changed my mind," The corner of his lips twitched at their blatant disbelief. "What? Even stubborn lions can change their minds sometimes."

They made it into the hallways of Pomefiore before they spoke again, "I'm still trying to figure out your angle."

"There's no angle," Leona said, and their eyes narrowed at him like he was crazy.

"Ah wait," They stopped in their tracks, patting down their front. "I almost forgot about this." In their hands were the...weeds that Leona had in his hair. Crewel and Vil had called it an "avant-garde masterpiece of a hair accessory" but really, it looked like a weed to Leona.

"Go and sit," They tilted their head towards the throne in the center of the Pomefiore lounge.

He scoffed, "No way. There's literally a normal chair right there."

And him? Sitting on that shiny excuse of a throne? The very one Vil sat on? Definitely not. Even if a small part of him longed for a throne of his own, that...thing was no throne. It was a toy for make-believe at best.

They tugged at his arm, "Come on, I bet everyone wants to sit in that at least once." Their eyes met his; twinkling mischievously, "Are you scared someone will see? Everyone's at their clubs right now."

"Fucking– just...do it quick," He grumbled, settling onto the velvet plushness of the so-called throne.

His mouth pressed into a firm line as they drew closer, trepidation crawling under his skin. Their fingers brushed through his hair lightly at first. Then gaining confidence, till they were combing through the brown strands thoroughly.

As they leaned in closer, he watched as they eclipsed the brightness of the chandelier; basking him in their shadow. They were close enough that Leona could smell the scent of flowery perfume clinging onto their clothes; no doubt courtesy of Vil.

They weren't looking at him. No, they were far too focused on his hair. It was a good thing, really. Because if they were looking at him...well, Leona wouldn't know how they would react.

Emerald eyes traced over their features: the concentrated crease of their brows, the curve of their cheek, and the length of their nose. The slightest part of their lips, the slow rise and fall of their shoulders almost lulling him into a sense of calm. He clutched at the chair, trying to ward off his observations to no avail.

Sevens, he wanted to kiss them. So badly. But he couldn't. Not here, and definitely not now. And not when he knew there was a big chance that they would never see him the same.

Instead, he reached a hand up, brushing firmly at their shoulder. That caused them to flinch in surprise, their gaze finally meeting his. His lips parted; throat feeling oddly dry, "There was somethin' there."

"Oh," Their eyes darted to his hand and back. "I think that might be glitter. Grim spilled a whole bunch of it on me earlier."

"Glitter," He repeated. "That's why you're so...shiny." He tried to ignore the halo of light that wrapped around the crown of their head, making them a monarch in their own right. Even if all they ruled over was his heart.

"You say that like you aren't shining yourself, Mr. Centerpiece," There was one last touch to their hair before they finally pulled back. Leona breathed out a long sigh of relief. "And done. Now it doesn't look like you rolled around in the bushes."

"Hah. As if that guy won't grill me anyway for disappearing," He stood up, trying to get the feeling back in his fingers from how hard he was gripping the chair. "C'mon, lead the way."

"You say that like you haven't been going there every day for this past week." They say that. They say that and yet they still held his sleeve as they lead the way.

"'M not a kid, herbivore," Leona said, though he made no move to brush them off. Rather, he enjoyed the sight of them leading him for once.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm trying to make sure you don't decide to slip away again," They said as they reached the room. "Now go and accept your fate. Running away is futile at this point." He stepped in front of them, reluctant to enter the room.

"Hey," He waited till they were finally looking at him again. He wanted to say a simple 'thank you'. That was what you said to people who you wanted to thank, right?

But what came out instead was, "You almost lost this." He pulled out the thing he had pocketed earlier. One of their bracelets. He could hazard a guess as to how they dropped it; probably during their earlier tree climbing.

They searched their wrists, eyes wide, "That's...one of my bracelets."

"Good of you to notice," Leona slipped it onto his own wrist. "Come find me after my practice is over 'n I'll give it back. You owe me, alright herbivore?"

"So there was a catch," He heard them mutter to themself. "Bastard."

His tail was high in the air as he lumbered into the practice room from hell. Kalim was in the corner doing squats, for some reason. And Vil was focused on Jamil. Though he was sure that Vil didn't miss his entrance. Leona took his place near one of the windows, heaving a sigh as he cast a spell to fill the vases with water.

Well, he had to say it was worth the trouble this time. After he finished his laps and tuned in for a lecturing by Vil, he had a, mm, meeting with the herbivore. Their bracelet made a light clink as he started his first lap. Leona felt a smile slowly suffuse his usually-indifferent expression. Ah, he really couldn't wait after all.

thank you for reading Leona Being Painfully In Love the musical fic !! i hope you enjoyed :DD if you did, go check out my masterlist or the rest of the fairy gala collection !

[yukinojou]

I already squeed quite a bit on Twitter, but turns out my Shadow and Bone thoughts demand longform. So that was a 40+ tweet thread or using my Tumblr for an original post for once.

I was wary about the Shadow and Bone adaptation the way I'm usually wary about good books being adapted onscreen. It was amplified because my actual favourites are the Six of Crows books, and because the American-based movie complex has a bad track record of doing anything based on Eastern Europe. 8 episodes in 3 days should tell you how much I loved it - the moment I finished, I wanted more.

First, the technical praise:

Damn but the plotting is tight. It took me a while to realised it's based on heist movie bones, where every little thing (The Freaking Bullet!) is important. The story fulfills its promises and manages not to bore at the same time - it delights by the way they're fulfilled. I called out a few plot developments moments before they happened, and I was happy about it. Such a joy after so many series where "not doing what viewers expect" led to plot holes and lack of sense. It might be an upside to the streaming model after all.

From a dramatic point of view I can tell all the reasons for all the changes, especially providing additional outsider points of view on Ravka (Crows) and letting viewers see Mal for themselves the way he only comes across in later books.

Speaking of which, this is a masterclass in rewriting a story draft. SaB was Bardugo's first, and having read later books you can really see where she didn't quite dare to break the YA rules yet, especially Single POV that necessitated a tight focus on Alina's often negative feelings rather than the big picture and a triangle that felt a bit forced. The world in the series is so much bigger, the way Bardugo could finally paint it when SaB success gave her more creative freedom, and some structural choices feel familiar too. It's a combination of various choices by crew and cast, but the end result meshes together so tightly and naturally.

Visuals! Especially the war parts because Every Soviet Movie Ever, but also the clothes (I would kill for Nina's blouse in the bar), the jewelry, the interiors. The stag was so very beautiful. And a deep commitment to a coherent aesthetic for each character and setting.

Look, you can do a serious fantasy series with colours! Both skin colours and bright sets and clothing! And all scenes were well lit enough to know what's going on, even in the Fold!

Representation (aka I Am Emotion)

To start with: I was born behind the Iron Curtain, in the last years of the Cold War. The Curtain was always permeable to some extent, and we have always been aware that while we have talented artists of our own, we never had the budgets and polish of the Anglosphere Entertainment Machine. So we watched a hell of a lot of American visual storytelling especially because yeah, you can tell we don't have the budgets. 90s and 2000s especially, it's getting better now.

In American stories, the BEST case scenario for Eastern European representation is the Big Dumb Pole, the ethnic stereotype Americans don't even notice they use, where the punchline is that his English is bad or that he grew up outside Anglo culture. Other than that, it's criminals, beggars, sex trafficking victims, refugees. Sure, we may look similar (except we really really don't, not if you're raised here and see the distinct lack of all those long-jawed Anglo faces), but we are not and have never been the West, never mind America. It's probably better for younger people now, but I was raised under rationing and passport bans. Star Trek and Beverly Hills 90210 were exactly as foreign to me.

The first ever character I really identified with was Susan Ivanova in Babylon 5 (written by J. Michael Straczynski, yay behind-camera representation). This was a Russian Jewish woman very much in charge, in the way of strong women I know so well, not taking any bullshit, not repressing her feminity. I recognised her bones, she could be my cousin. The sheer relief of it. There have been few such occasions since.

The reason I picked up Shadow and Bone in the first place was recommendations from other Polish people. I've had no problems finding representation in Eastern European books because wow our scene is strong in SFF especially, but it's always a treat to find a book in English that gets it. And Leigh gets it, the bones of our culture, and I could even look past the grammar issue (dear gods and Americans, Starkova for a woman, Morozov for a guy) that really irked me because of the love for the setting and the characters, the weaving in of religion/mysticism (we never laicisized the same way as the West, natch), the understanding of how deep are the scars left in a nation at war for centuries. The books are precious to me, they and Arden's Winternight and Novik's Spinning Silver.

To sum up: Shadow and Bone the Netflix series gets it. You can tell just how much they've immersed themselves in Eastern European culture and media, it comes across so well in visuals and writing and characters. Not just the obvious bits (though the WWII propaganda posters gave me a giggle), but the palaces, the additional plotlines and characters, the costumes, the attitudes. About the only thing missing in the soldier scenes was someone singing and/or quoting poetry.

I will blame the Apparat's lack of beard on filming in a non-Orthodox country. Poland's Catholic too, but I very much imagined him as an Orthodox patriarch, possibly because I read the books shortly after a visit to Pecherska Lavra in Kiev and the labyrinthine holy catacombs there. Small quibble, not my religion, not my place to speak.

(I've seen discussion on the issues with biracial representation in the show, which is visceral and apparently based on bad experiences of one of the show writers in a way that's caused pain to other Asian and biracial people. I'm not qualified to speak on those parts, other that Eastern Europe is... yeah. Racist in subtly different ways. If anything, the treatment of the Suli as explained in Six of Crows always read so very true of the way Roma are treated, and even sanitised.)

And now for the spoiler-filled bits:

Kaz and Inej. I mean... just THEM. So many props to the actors, the writers, the bloody goat.

I adore the fact the only people who get to have sex in the show are Jesper and a very lucky stablehand.

Ben Barnes needs either an award or a kick. The man's acting choices and puppy eyes are as epic as his hair.

So Much Love for Alina initiating the kiss. Her book characterisation makes sense, she's so trapped in her own head because she has no time to process everything that's happening, but grabbing life by the lapels is a much more active choice. Still not making the relationship equal, but closer to it.

Speaking of, Kaz's constant awareness of how unequal his relationship with Inej is, and attempts to give her agency. I'm really curious how his touch issues come across to someone who doesn't know the backstory there.

Feodor and his actor. He looks exactly like the pre-war heartthrob Adolf Dymsza, a specific upper-class Polish ethnic type that's much rarer now that, well, Nazis killed millions of Polish intellectuals in their attempt to reduce us to unskilled labour only. The faces he makes are the Best.

Nina!! Nina is perfect, those cheekbones, that cheek, I was giggling myself silly half the time. I cannot wait to see Danielle Galligan take on the challenge of Nina's plotline in Six of Crows and Crooked Kingdom, she'll kill us dead.

I already mentioned that the writers fixed Mal's absence from the first book, but Mal in general! The haircut gives him a kind of rugby charm, and Archie Renaux is outstanding at emoting without talking. Honestly, all the casting in this series is inspired, but him in particular.

Extra bonus: Howard Charles and Luke Pasqualino playing so very much against the type of the swaggering Musketeers I saw them play last. Arken dropping the mask at the end... Howard Charles is love.

I can't believe not only was Milo's bullet a plot point, but the fact Alina was wearing a particularly sparkly hair ornament in a long series of beautiful hair ornaments was a plot point.

In conclusion: so much love, and next three season NOW please. Okay, give me a week to reread the books, and an extra day because new Murderbot drops tomorrow...

[sophiamcdougall]

EXPLAINING SANREMO

(PART TWO) I am back. I have barely eaten or slept and Tumblr has tried to murder me and this post multiple times, but I have survived. Thank you for your patience.

Part One of my attempt to explain the seismic experience that is 2020 Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is here. 

Ready? I assure you, you are not, but let’s proceed. So Sanremo rages pitilessly on.  Now everyone knows what’s at stake, and everyone, including your humble recapper, is exhausted, but doing the gay/chaotic best they can.

As the final battle to save Amadeus, Rancore, Italy and THE WORLD approaches, Achille Lauro has a last message for the troops. And I’m not deducing this, he literally said it on Twitter. 

...Hold me I’m scared.

Meanwhile (sort of) (go with it) (time isn’t real at Sanremo)  a minor drama  has occurred offstage. Singer Tiziano Ferro made an ill-advised joke about Fiorello’s interminable comedy bits, some idiots on Twitter ran away with it, and poor Fiorello was upset! This is minuscule in Sanremo terms. But consider the flapping of a butterfly’s wings. Consider hurricanes. But who is Tiziano Ferro?

Hold on. We’ll get to it. For now ...

Fiorello is dancing seductively for an absolutely delighted Amadeus while dressed as a rabbit. And wearing a blonde wig. Is there a rational explanation for this? I mean, sort of. But also no.

And then he worries Amadeus might give him herpes, which causes Amadeus to freaking snap.

“No, no!” yells the mercurial Fiorello. Amadeus isn’t worthy of his kisses yet. He ricochets out of Amadeus’s arms and into the audience and “passes on” the kiss to a guy in the front row. 

“Incredible things are going to happen tonight!” yells Amadeus, who has no fucking idea. ”Beautiful things,” corrects Fiorello. 

But just because Fiorello is a mayhem elemental on a mission of love doesn’t mean he hasn’t got feelings. 

Enter Italy’s sweetheart, Tiziano Ferro.

Actually, Tiziano’s been there all along. He’s the specialest of special guests, singing through basically his entire back catalogue every night. Which why it really was unfair of him to pick on Fiorello -- �� it’s not his fault he’s literally got to stand there and babble nonsense for aeons on end, Tiziano! He’s just serving the hungry chthonic entity that is Sanremo, same as you.  

While the gay mayhem (the gayhem, if you will) surges around him, Tiziano  has been fighting the good gay fight in his own steadfast way, so far untouched. His mere presence is a message of hope in itself, he knows this, and is determined to make it count. Ten years ago he was closeted, convinced coming out would end his career, and suicidal. Now happily married and gloriously successful, he is here to demonstrate that “it gets better”. He radiates such wholesome joy and resilience that everyone loves him.

So anyway, Tiziano didn’t mean to hurt anybody because he would never, and now he wants to make things right. So will Fiorello forgive him?

Ah, what better gesture of reconciliation than to goofily sing a  love song written by Fiorello himself. Of course Fiorello forgives Tiziano, because Fiorello loves everyone, good and bad, (after all he loves Amadeus the most). But he is also a chaos being, and he is working harder than anyone else to channel the divine madness of this deranged Sanremo Festival into anyone who gets close. Tiziano, watch out!

Seems TIziano naively thought he could lean in for a staged, nearly kiss, but  Fiorello’s very soul is antithetical to “nearly” anything.

“My husband’s going to divorce me!”  wails poor Tiziano, but Fiorello has never felt so alive. This is Sanremo, bitches. Rules like “sixty-year-old men can’t be danger twinks, Fiorello,” have ceased to apply. He is an apostle of Achille Lauro, he has accepted the sermon of Benigni into his heart: it is time for PHYSICAL LOVE. While not quite ready (yet) to fuck everyone in the orchestra pit, he is throbbing with readiness, to frolic all over the theatre giving all the guys he can get his hands on THE KISSES OF HIS MOUTH.

Naturally this sparks further firestorms of chaos. “Do it again!” begs grizzled rocker and high-ranking competitor Piero Pelù. Electrified by the touch of Fiorello’s lips, he is later to be found running shirtless through the auditorium where he steals a handbag.

Everyone is kissing everyone, age and orientation be damned. Summoned by the gay sorcery unfolding, 65-year-old queer rock goddess Gianna Nanini manifests and is kissed worshipfully on the lips by 36-year-old duet partner Coez.

There’s also some kind of song competition going on I guess. 

This happens:

That’s Ghali, GUYS, IT’S NOT WORKING, rappers ARE DROPPING LIKE FLIES ALL OVER THIS STAGE, WE’VE GOT TO DO SOMETHING.

(...  it isn’t really Ghali and don’t worry. This is a gag? Which I still don’t really get? And nor does sweet anarchist cherub Fiorello whom we will later discover is currently being physically restrained from rushing onstage to tend to the fallen rapper’s wounds.)

The real Ghali raps in Arabic which among other things is a big old “me ne frego” of his own to Italian Trump-tribute act and failed wannabe prime minister Matteo Salvini. Then he gets close to Fiorello, which can only end one way.

All the boys are crazy for Fiorello’s kisses but Amadeus still can’t have any

It’s already a difficult night for Amadeus.  TV presenter Antonella Clerici enters and far from standing a step beside him, righteously rips the piss out of him, which to be fair he accepts with grace.

And as for Achille Lauro ... ...No.  Patience. The time to bear witness to the last stand of Achille Lauro is not yet come. There are other forces stirring at Sanremo.

Chaos has its dark side.

The gun on stage is cocked and loaded. This is it. ENTER MORGAN.

... and enter Bugo,  who trails in behind Morgan, looking dazed and haunted. But whatever, it’s a million o’clock in the morning, aren’t we all. 

They start to play.  Italian Tumblr dozes fitfully on its sofa, idly crackshipping Amadeus and Fiorello. Utterly unprepared.

So most of us don’t notice what’s happening ...

... until the music just stops.

No one’s paid attention to the Morgan and Bugo in days. As far as I’m concerned Fabrizio Moro has already been avenged and my bloodlust is slaked.  The song - apparently written wholly by Bugo - honestly, isn’t bad, but Morgan’s been tuneless throughout and their duet/cover last night was cringeable. There have been some major reversals in the rankings but at this point there’s almost no way they’re going to be one of them.  And Morgan is not happy.

So Morgan changed the lyrics (and this isn’t even last-minute improv, he fucking printed it) to attack the one person who still had faith in him, blaming Bugo and Bugo alone for their poor performance so far. On live TV. In front of millions. After screaming at Bugo backstage just minutes ago. And he expects Bugo to just stand there and take it.

"Me ne frego to that shit,” thinks Bugo, and becomes the unexpected self-care hero of Sanremo as he vanishes into the night.

And that’s how I learned the Italian word for pandemonium. 

Morgan has the absolute nerve to ask what’s going on. Amadeus breaks out in visible cold sweat. Fiorello is thrown bodily onstage to DO SOMETHING, ANYTHING, OH MY GOD.

It’s long past midnight and a bunch of worried middle-aged men in sparkly jackets are scampering around yelping “Bugo? Bugo! BUGO? BUGO!!!” and that, I am here to tell you, when you are already delirious from exhaustion and shitposting-induced hysteria, is more than enough to tip you right over the edge.

Italian Tumblr resigns itself to never sleeping again.The memes aren’t going to make themselves. 

Translation: ”Is Bugo there?” “What’s happening?” “Where’s Bugo gone?” “I have to go and see where Bugo is.” “Bugo left.” “BUGO!”

Morgan wants vengeance. Fiorello, adorably indifferent to the fact that he was shoved on stage to, you know, entertain the audience, wants to find the missing waif, wrap him in a blanket and feed him soup. So they both rush offstage and Amadeus is left alone in a living anxiety dream.

The audience are booing.  The 70th fucking Sanremo Festival of Italian Song is falling to pieces on his watch. For all he knows murder is going on backstage and he picked known powder-keg and scoundrel Morgan for the Festival. The buck stops with him. And he has no lines, no back-up, no idea what to do about it.

And then Fiorello, angel of misrule, avatar of lawlessness and love, strolls back onstage. He looks confident and relaxed, like a man with all the answers.  Which he is.

“Have you got Bugo?” Amadeus inquires desperately.

NO RULES, NO MASTERS, NO SPONSORSHIP MONEY. ME NE FREGO.

Everything is broken. And somehow everything is OK.

Everyone, Amadeus included, bursts into hysterical, cathartic laughter.

“Is this my fault?” Amadeus asks. “YES!” crows Fiorello, lovingly forcing Amadeus to face his sins and his nightmares in a healing atmosphere of radical acceptance and mass psychosis.

And that’s how Amadeus learned that the real Sanremo was inside us all along.  And what he needs in this glorious maelstrom was never a beautiful woman standing a step behind him. It’s a chaos pixie dream boy at his side.

It’s time to cast out toxic masculinity and become a better man.

So Amadeus wraps up the show as best he can and then out of pure human compassion, he and Fiorello personally wander the streets of Sanremo looking for Bugo until four in the morning.

Bugo and Morgan are automatically disqualified

And now let us witness the final passion of Achille Lauro. Who is this Achlle Lauro kid anyway? How intentional is all this? Is he the Messiah, or a very naughty boy?

SO YEAH. Anyway, everyone’s wondering what the fuck Achille and his producer/guitarist Boss Doms (yes, really) are going to do, and BE, next. Achille’s first three looks were inspired by St Francis of Assisi, David Bowie, and Marchesa Luisa Casati. 

So ... Freddie Mercury, maybe? Elizabeth I? Jesus Christ?  And after the flurry of kissing Fiorello whipped up .. 

Will they ... can they ... dare they...

Do you even need to ask?

I have no idea how the crazy bastards who guessed “Elizabeth I” did it. 

Achille thrusts his hips against Boss’s backside. Drops to his knees before him and lets the shape of the microphone speak for itself. Briefly chokes him. And throughout they are tender, elegant, and utterly, regally dignified.

And then, at last.

A  joyous chorus of maenad-like shrieks rings out across Europe. If you’re in the Greater London area and your ears are still sore, I’m sorry. That was me. 

That’s it. Achille Lauro and Boss Doms ascend into heaven and pass into history. 

Not even they can give more to Sanremo.

The dust settles. 

The dawn breaks.

WE FUCKING DID IT! RANCORE LIVES! WOUNDED (as are we all) BUT SMILING AT A WORLD TRANSFORMED! (Not only that but, after starting at the bottom of the leaderboard he’s been catapulted up into the top ten and wins the special prize for Best Lyrics!)

And Amadeus?

Well, let’s hear from him in his own words.

Because Fiorello asked him to, Amadeus is wearing a blonde wig to look like legendary TV host Maria de Filippi. Amadeus doesn’t normally sing, but because Fiorello asks him to, he joins him in song.“A WORLD OF LOVE! LOVE! LOVE!” they chorus. It’s the hymn of the new day. 

“He can make me do anything!” Amadeus sighs to the audience. So Fiorello asks him to slow-dance.  And they do.

The prophecy has been fulfilled. Amadeus has let love into his heart. He has surrendered to the holy power of gay chaos. He is a man reborn. 

He didn’t find Bugo on that long, gruelling dark night of the soul, because incredibly,  poor Bugo never left the theatre and spent the night literally hiding in a cupboard.

But he found something else. 

As Sanremo finally, mercifully approaches its end, Fiorello grapples him close and, all teasing cast aside, whispers fiercely in his ear:

And somehow it was.

And toxic masculinity?

To find out why don’t we - and I am sorry about this - check in on Matteo Salvini who would normally be rage-tweeting up a Trump-style storm by now. He loves bitching about Sanremo for being “rigged by the left”  or occasionally letting a non-lily-white performer win, and this year he even tried to organise a boycott. Let’s see how that’s going.

This, the gayest-ever Sanremo in history, is the most-watched Sanremo in 18 years, with an incredible 60% audience share.

“Me Ne Frego” flies to the top of the Spotify charts.  (And though the judges are still cowards and traitors who left Achille in 8th place, there is no doubt across the media who the real star of the festival was. ) And Salvini’s “boycott” just meant he effectively banned himself from making a peep about it.

So who won the festival?

ALL OF US.

Oh, you meant literally.

This guy. His name is Diodato and his song is called “Fai Rumore” (Make a Sound.) It’s fine.

And that was Sanremo. It wasn’t a dream, it was a place. And you, and you, and you were there.

[toomztoom]

All it takes is a drop of your blood and she can read your future.

I should be in my house right now... All cuddled up in bed under a nice, big, cozy blanket with my warm laptop in my lap. But instead, I'm out here in the forest, trying to find this so called fortune-teller who--allegedly--lives in a cabin in these woods.

Let's get one thing straight: I never believed in magic or any sort of ridiculous fortune telling in my entire life. However, my friend was someone who believed in this junk. She'd always spin these silly tales of how she "found this fairy who had an attitude in her backyard" or a "gnome colony who lived under the school", so it didn't surprise me when she pulled me aside one day, gushing about some other magical thing. This time, it was about a fortune-teller she had gone to, saying that everything the lady had told her came true. She urged me to go see her, shoving a crumpled piece of paper in my hand.

I brushed it off and said I was busy, shoving the paper in my pocket and pushing it into the back of my mind. That night, though, I couldn't get it out of my head. My curiosity, per usual, began to gnaw on me. As much as I was skeptical, I was also somewhat gullible. I had even gone far enough to go to the school and dig up that supposed gnome colony in the middle of the night. I kept thinking about it for weeks, before finally caving into my curiosity.

And now, here I am, trying to follow the smudged directions on the sheet of old paper. The woods were thick, and the fallen trees and heavy vines that hung off them were difficult to maneuver around. I squinted at the paper, trying to see in the dim light from the moon, before looking up hopelessly at my surroundings.

... I think I'm lost...

I checked it again, reading the useless instructions. "Go north until you fined a burned oak tree..."

My heart practically leaped out of my chest as a crow cawed, announcing his presence.

"Damn you and your mother, you scared the shit out of me." I muttered, putting a hand to my chest to calm my nerves. The forest was beyond creepy. Especially at night. Once again, I squinted at the paper before continuing on my way, trying to ignore the crow's watchful eyes drilling into my back. My shoes crunching the dried leaves and twigs under my feet was all that could be heard in the night. There was no animal to be heard, as if they were too scared to say anything. That is... If any animals were around. My palms began to sweat, soaking the paper that was in my fist.

As I walked deeper into the depths of the woods, the air around me grew colder and colder until I could see puffs of my own breath. The thin, summery clothes I was wearing did nothing to protect me from the weather. My breath hitched as I spotted a massive flock of crows staring down at me from their perch with their piercing, beady eyes. They all stood on an old, scraggly oak tree, which looked like it had caught on fire long ago. One of the birds cawed, flapping its wings, before diving down towards me. The others answered its call by screeching and swooping down with it, aiming their sharp beaks and claws at my neck.

I yelped in terror, before covering my head and running as fast as I could away from their beating wings. Some successfully scratched my arms and pulled my hair, while others tried pecking my shoulders and back. I cursed my curiosity.

Leaves began to crunch all around me, as if creatures were chasing me. My eyes started to play tricks on me, forming the trees into snarling monsters that reached out to grab me, and making shadows form into wandering devils. The caws grew louder the faster I ran, and the leaves above rustled while the trees moved back and forth. There wasn't even any wind.

A thick fog covered my feet as tears threatened to fall down my eyes, both elements making it difficult for me to see. This gave the thorns on the forest floor an opportunity to scratch at my dark skin, leaving streaks of blood on my legs. I begged quietly for this to be over; to go back home and pretend this never happened, for the sun to bathe my body in its glow, or even for my crazy friend who sent me on this journey in the first place.

I run into a clearing and stop, almost like some sort of force was holding me back from going further.

Everything was dead.

The trees had stopped swaying, the leaves weren't rustling, and the crows had all disappeared, like they were never even there. In the clearing stood a cozy little cabin, a swirl of smoke flowing out of the chimney and into the peaceful night. I watched the cabin as I took in gulps of air, realizing that it wasn't cold anymore. In fact, it was rather nice outside.

I walked carefully to the cabin, taking a critical look at the steps. They were so old, they seemed as if they would collapse right then and there. I put my right foot on the first step, adding a bit of pressure to it to make sure it was stable. It groaned from my weight, but felt like it would stand just a little longer. I walked up the rest and knocked three times on the door, listening to a wind chime quietly sing as it swayed in the breeze.

I jumped as the door opened, a lady who appeared to be in her forties standing behind it. She had tan skin and a long, brown dress, and dreadlocks fell all the way down to her hips. In her hair, sparkly jewels and various beads kept her dreads together.

Her face morphed from a skeptical frown to a warm, pleasant smile. "Ah! There you are. I was wondering when you'd finally get here. Come in, come in! Oh! But before you do, wipe your feet on that mat, would ya?" Her voice was coated in a thick Irish accent.

She shuffled away from the door, and like she had told me to, I wiped my feet on the mat before entering the cozy home. In all honesty, I imagined a table with red cloth and a goofy, crystal ball being the only thing inside, like in the movies. Instead, I was greeted by a very nice living room. The walls were covered by shelves, housing books older than time itself. Small antiques were keeping the books company, and a red carpet laid on the floor. Sadly, time was not merciful to it, and it certainly looked its age.

A couch and two love seats sat in front of a roaring fire, which found its home in the fireplace. A coffee table was placed in front of the couch, and on top of the table were two fancy, white tea cups with blue flower designs delicately painted onto them. Oddly enough, they were placed upside down.

"Sit with me, my dear." Said the lady, taking a seat herself and folding her aging hands in her lap. "Tell me why you have come here."

"I thought you knew, considering you're a fortune-teller." I told her as I sat in the seat opposite her.

"Ah, yes, of course, of course." She waved her hand. "Your friend came here a few weeks ago, I gave her her fortune, everything came true--obviously--and now you want your fortune told after she told you about this. Am I missing anything?"

I gaped, my eyes wider than saucers.

"Close your mouth, sweet heart, the flies are starting to come back now that it's spring."

I shut my jaw. "N-No. No, you're not missing anything..."

"Good." She smiled. "Your friend has a very bright future ahead of her, dear. She'll be very successful one day."

I nodded, not sure what to say.

"Now," she clapped her hands once, eyes widening as she beamed, "you came here to get your fortune told, so let's waste no more precious time." She picked up one of the cups, removing a pin from her hair. "May I see your hand, sweety?"

I held it out, assuming she was going to read my palm. She placed the cup in her lap and grabbed my wrist, aiming the pin at my finger. I yanked my hand away.

"Whoa! What are you doing?" I exclaimed.

"I'll explain when I'm done, deary. You humans tend to run away after I explain, so it's just easier if I do my thing before I tell you. Now please relax and give me your hand."

I swallowed nervously, but obeyed, holding my hand out once more. She held my hand again and pricked my middle finger with the pin, letting my blood drop into the cup. When she decided that it was enough, she let go of my hand and looked down into the delicate China.

The atmosphere in the room changed from warm to cold in a snap, the fire tuning blue and purple and sending cold sparks into the air. She began whispering something under her breath, her hands squeezing the precious cup. Her eyes moved around wildly as she stared down into my blood, looking at something I couldn't see. The fire began to roar, and everything in the room quaked, many books falling to the floor with a pile of dust following, and many antiques smashing on the ground.

The lady in front of me was in a seizure like state, gasping as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, her head itself falling back and hitting the seat hard. She dropped the cup, letting it shatter with the other items. Blood from inside the cup splattered with the shards. The lady began to shake as my blood became red mist, floating up to the ceiling and forming a picture above our heads.

People were huddled around each other, comforting themselves as their sobs rang out in a haunting way. Someone screamed in agony.

I yelped as the lady in front of me fell to her knees, glaring at me and whispering in a hoarse voice, "... Get out."

I cocked an eyebrow. "W-What?"

The lady snarled and stood, grabbing my shoulder in a fierce grip. "GET OUT! GET OUT OF HERE, AND NEVER RETURN!"

She shoved me out the door, making me fall down her old steps. I looked up at her, my arm bleeding from the fall.

"If you ever set foot near my cabin again, I will curse your entire family line!" She warned, before slamming the door with such a great force, the welcome mat shuttered.

I took a few deep breaths as I stood, trying to calm myself. I began to cry again, scared out of my wits. "I-I shouldn't have c-come here..." I sniffed.

The wind chimes sang as they danced in the breeze, being the only sound that could be heard besides my sobs. When I calmed down enough, I wiped my tears and looked at the trees...

Before I began to walk home on

thank you @character-prompts for the inspiring prompt 

[thefemalethatwrites]

Ra Al Ghul’s Granddaughter (Jason Todd)

Request: Nope.

Prompt: You’re Damian’s older half-sister and have been sent to Bruce with him to keep him safe.

Relationship: Jason x Reader, Brother!Damian x Sister!Reader

Warning: Smut is written in BOLD! Also cursing

Word Count: 4485

A/N: Feel free to request because I’m struggling with ideas, they don’t have to do with the batboys, they can be with any DC character.

~~~

(Y/N)’s POV

Look after your brother for me. He’s the future.

I watched as Dick and Damian trained, while Tim and Bruce were over at the computers along with Alfred, and Jason was brooding in the corner,

“If he’s the future, then we’re all doomed” I muttered as I left the cave and headed towards the kitchen, “You shouldn’t creep up on an assassin, especially me” I warned as I turned around to see Jason,

“Well, it’s a good thing I’ve already died then” He said, I raised an eyebrow and turned around again to grab the crisps,

“Why are you here again?” He asked gaining my attention, I sighed

“Mother’s orders” I say,

“Which were…?” He trailed off,

“To look after the devil child” I say, he hummed as we made our way back to the cave, “Why are you interested in me, all of a sudden?” I asked leaning against the railing

“Because everyone’s got a partner, Bruce has Alfred and Tim, Dick has Demon” He said making me smirk, “And we’re just outcasts” He said, I hummed and offered him some crisps, which he accepted,

“Outcasts, together?” I say, he smiled slightly and nodded

“(Y/N) you never share food! Are you feeling alright?!” Dick called over, I flipped him off “I’m hurt” He said making me roll my eyes,

“So, how’d you die?” I asked as I sat cross-legged on the railing,

“The Joker beat me with a crow-bar and then placed me in the same room as a bomb” he said.

“Oh damn, that sounds way more exciting than me” I say, he raised an eyebrow

“You’ve died?” He asked with disbelief,

“I know, it’s incredibly hard to believe because of how good I am now, but yeah. My Grandfather wanted to see how good I had gotten and demanded a duel, which he won but since I proved that I had potential I was brought back, after a year, by the Lazarus Pit, which heightened my senses making me the thing I am today” I say,

“Wow” He said, I nodded

“Exactly” I say,

“I don’t understand. How is she doing it?” I heard Dick asked making me turn to see him failing miserably to copy me, I smirked

“You don’t have my senses Dick! Give up!” I call over to him which made him fall on to his back, causing Jason and myself to chuckle.

***

“Hey (Y/N)! Jason’s wondering if you’d go on a date with him!” Dick yelled as he avoided Jason’s attacks, I chuckled at their childish behaviour,

“Pick me up at 8” I say as I walked upstairs making them both freeze in place and stare at me,

“Ha! I told you! Erm…Jay?” I heard Dick yell making me shake my head as I went into my room and fell on to my bed, they was a knock on my door making me sit up as Alfred entered,

“I’ve just been told by Master Dick, that you and Master Jason are going on a date tonight” He said,

“I see the news travels fast” I say as I stood up,

“Have you any idea, where he’s taking you?” he asked, I shook my head

“Not in the slightest, all I know is that he’s picking me up at 8” I replied, he smiled

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I came to you then. You go bathe yourself and your outfit will be out ready for you” He said, I nodded

“Thank you Alfred” I say as I entered my ensuite, after bathing I exited the ensuite in my robe and my hair in a towel,

“Would you care for me to do your hair?” He asked, I shook my head

“I think I’ll be fine on my own now” I say, he bowed and left my room, I dried my hair and pinned half of it back before putting on the dress and heels Alfred picked out, it was a red knee-length dress and 4 inch silver heels, along with a sparkly silver clutch purse, I went into the ensuite to apply my makeup, when I was putting the finishing touches on there was a knock at my door and Jason came in wearing a tuxedo,

“(Y/N)?” He called out,

“One second” I say as I put the makeup away and exited the ensuite, his jaw dropped,

“You look…” He trailed off

“Awkward?” I finished off, he shook his head,

“Beautiful” He finished off, I smiled

“Thank you, you look quite handsome” I complimented making him smirk as he straightened the suit jacket, he extended his arm to me which I took and we made our way downstairs,

“Don’t be out all night” Bruce warned, Jason groaned but nodded making me smile slightly,

“Have fun!” Dick called after us as we got into the limo as Alfred took us to the restaurant.

***

“(Y/N), Jason, you’ll be on patrol tonight” Bruce said, Jason and I smirked at each other,

“Bruce, are you sure about that one?” Tim asked before I covered his mouth,

“If you’re smart, you’ll keep quiet” I whispered,

“(Y/N), come on!” Jason called over, I let go of Tim and climbed on the back of the motorcycle, we arrived at the location of our vantage point, I got off the bike and looked up to the vantage point, “Race you up?” Jason asked, I raised an eyebrow,

“Think you can beat me?” I asked,

“I can try” He said making me chuckle as we raced up to the top, myself winning, I rested a hand on my hip as Jason got up,

“I win, what’s my prize?” I asked as he removed his mask coming towards me, he leaned down to kiss me but stopped due to an explosion making us sigh,

“Something always interrupts” I say, he nodded in agreement “I’ll give you your prize when we’ve dealt with that” He said making me smile before we made our way to the explosion.

***

“Jay, you’re wasted” I say as he latched on to me, hugging me from behind, we had just arrived at his apartment after we went to the bar on our night off,

“Give me one good reason, you should go” Jason slurred and hiccuped,

“I have ice-cream waiting at the manor for me” I smirked,

“I’m delicious too” He whined burying his face into my neck, I chuckled as I leaned against his chest before gasping as his right hand slid to the front of my leggings and sticking a finger between the folds and rubbing it.

“J-” I whined as he continued to rub but he suddenly stopped and turned me around to face him, to see that he was smirking,

“Now, if you don’t stay here tonight, you’ll miss out on all the fun…” He trailed snaking his arms around my waist, “But, should you stay, we can have as much fun as you want” He finished off as his hand brushed over my butt, unable to control myself I pulled him in for a passionate kiss by his shirt, without the need of lip biting we were engaged in an intense oral battle of dominance, Jason pushed me against the wall making me gasp allowing him to completely excavate my mouth with his tongue, claiming dominance, unknowingly, we both were pushing each other to his room, as soon as we had gotten in he kicked it shut while full on making out with me, he then pushed me on to the bed and leaned on top of me, attacking my neck, more importantly my sweet spot, at first it was a kiss, then he bit harder and harder until they was a noticeably large red mark there, during that process he had removed my shirt revealing my black lace bra, “Kinky” He breathed out, I smirked

“Wait until you see the matching underwear” I whispered.

“Your pussy’s gonna be destroyed tonight, darling” He cooed into my ear sending shivers down my spine, he unclasped the bra, leaving my breasts exposed for him to exploit, he grabbed one mass of flesh in one hand, pinching, twisting, and squeezing every which way, as the other one was being attended by his tongue, which wrapped itself around the bud, gently nibbling just to make me squirm and whimper, which greatly pleased him, he then switched breasts, keeping my reactions alive, kissing from the cleavage all the way to the garter of my leggings, Jason takes the cloth between his teeth and pulls it down, leaving me in nothing but some rather soaked black laced underwear, unfortunately for him, though, I quickly sat up, pushing him down, and became the dominant one, I began kissing him passionately, as I pulled his shirt over his head, revealing a well-toned chest, I kissed down, leaving marks here and there, claiming him as mine.

Then I yanked down his pants, a stiff bulge prominent as ever beneath a thin cloth, I smirked at him as I straddled him, he smiled back weakly, loving my dominant side, at an agonizingly slow pace, I pulled down his boxers, leaving him fully exposed, I spread his legs and leaned down slowly, and the lower I went, the more he blushed, I flicked the tip with my tongue, making him scream in pleasure taking a handful of bed sheets in each hand, then I began to take in more of him, my teeth grazing here and there as he continuously screamed out my name, and eventually released his bitter seed into my mouth.

"Mm.." I hummed licking the excess off my mouth. "You are delicious” I say,

"What did I tell you?" Jason winked, suddenly he pushed me hard and fast onto the mattress making the entire bed bounce, he yanked off my pants, no longer caring about teasing me as I could tell he just wanted more and more, he dove in, sticking his tongue inside, expanding my walls as much as his pink muscle could do, and just like him, I came into his mouth, "Yum," he remarked, getting up.

He then scanned me from my face, to my wide-open womanhood, to my feet, all of me, I could tell that was all he wanted to see, to feel, to be a part of, with full force, Jason plunged into me, leaving me to be a moaning, screaming mess, he did this continuously, at the same rate, going in harder and harder each time, my walls grew tight as he found my spot,

"Jason!”

“(Y/N)!" We screamed in unison, and with that, Jason collapsed next to me, his arm automatically around my waist, and the both of us grinning like the idiots, "Did I ever tell you that I love you?" Jason asked, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear,

“Not enough," I replied, grinning,

“I don't think there'll ever be an enough” He smiled, and with that the two of us drifted off to sleep.

***

I arrived to where the Heretic and Damian were battling only to see Damian get impaled, my eyes widened in horror

“No!” I screamed as I jumped down behind the Heretic, stabbing him with my hidden blades that had traces of poison on, I jumped in front of him and kicked him down before running to Damian’s lifeless body, “No. No, please” I cried as I cradled him in my arms,

“(Y/N)-No” Bruce said as he ran towards me, he collapsed to his knees I put Damian down and stood up

“(Y/N), where are you-?” I cut Dick off by barging past him and running back to the manor, I slammed the door open

“Miss (Y/N), are you alright?” Alfred asked as he emerged from the kitchen,

“He’s gone…” I trailed off as I dropped to my knees,

“Who’s gone, miss?” He asked coming over to me,

“Damian, I was too slow. The Heretic…” I sobbed,

“Master Jason” Alfred said as a shadow overcasted me, Jason just ignored us both and went up to his room.

***

Bruce threw himself down in the computer chair complaining about another criminal he was after didn’t give him any answers before he knocked him out, I let out a frustrated sigh and I grabbed him by the throat and picking him up, knocking the chair over,

“Perhaps, if you didn’t let your anger control you, you would be able to get some answers instead of blaming one of us!” I growled, he just glared at me “You may dress up as the Batman, but you’re just a shell” I spat as I dropped him,

“It’s your fault, I’m the shell” He said getting up,

“You’re blaming me for Damian’s death?! You may have lost your son, but I lost my brother, who I saw grow up in front of me!” I snapped,

“Enough! Damian wouldn’t want you fighting” Jason snapped gaining both of our attention, only to see him walk out of the cave, I sighed and went to follow him but Dick stopped me,

“Y’know, telling him about your little secret might brighten his mood” He said, I gave him a deadpan look before barging past him and went up to Jason’s room, I knocked on the door before opening it,

“Jason?” I called out, “Go away” He said from his bed, “Jay, please talk to me” I say,

“What do you want me to say?! My little brother is dead! And I can’t do sh*t about it!” He yelled standing up,

“I know exactly what you’re going through” I say,

“No you don’t!” He snapped coming closer to me, my eyes widened as I placed a protective hand on my small bump, backing away from him,

“Yes, I do! You weren’t related to him! He was my blood brother!” I yelled,

“Shut up!” He yelled punching the wall next to me causing me to flinch, “Just get out” He muttered, I wasted no time in doing so and retreated to my room, I leaned against my door holding back the tears then I just lost my sh*t and trashed my room before collapsing to my knees, curling up into a ball and crying, which eventually lead to me falling asleep.

***

I shot up in my bed, panting from a nightmare, I groaned running a hand over my face before getting up and making my way to the kitchen, on my way back to my room there was muffled shouting from Jason’s room,

“I don’t care, Jay! I found her on the floor asleep with a tear-stained face!” Dick yelled,

“Why are you telling me this?!” Jason snapped,

“Because she’s carrying your child, asshole!” Dick snapped making me mentally curse at him and returned to my room, I glanced towards the duffel-bag I’ve had packed for months, I sighed and picked up my phone calling someone,

“Hello” They answered,

“I’m in need of a favour” I say.

***

Selina stopped the car outside the Leagues gates, 

“You sure about this?” She asked, I nodded

“Positive. Thanks again” I say as I got out with my luggage,

“I owed you one, so now we’re even” She said, I walked through the gates and into the main part of the building, one of the guards tried to stop me making me kick them through the door where my mother was,

“I’m back” I sang as a smirk appeared on my face,

“(Y/N)? What are you doing back here?” she asked,

“To resurrect my brother” I say bluntly, her face turned dark

“You let him die?!” She yelled as she withdrew her sword and pointed it at me, I glared at her,

“I’ve brought his body, so put him in the Lazarus pit” I growled, she eyed me up suspiciously, “Now” I demanded, she sighed and put her sword away and mentioned for me to follow her,

“How long has he been dead?” She asked,

“4 months” I replied, she nodded and Damian’s body was lowered into the pit, it was a couple of minutes before he gasped loudly, re-surfacing from the pit, and seemed to not have any side-effects,

“Damian?” I asked stepping closer, he looked at me

“(Y/N)” He said, I nodded and mentioned him to come over to me, which he did and I gave him a hug.

“Now that the heir has been brought back to life, neither of you shall leave” Mother demanded as we were surrounded by assassins,

“Try and stop us” I smirked as Damian withdrew my sword and we stood back-to-back,

“Ensure that they’re in their designated rooms” She ordered as she disappeared somewhere, the group of assassins came to attack us making me chuckle darkly as drove my hidden blades into the neck of two of them before snapping another’s neck, after taking them all down I grabbed a hold of Damian’s hand and ran to where Selina was waiting,

“Welcome back from the dead” She said before flooring it.

***

After sneaking Damian into his room, I returned to my room to find it tidied from my tantrum, and someone asleep on my bed, I tilted my head as I approached it to see Jason hugging a pillow, that had tear stains on as he slept, I smiled as I laid down myself facing him, I moved his white tuff of hair from him face causing him to wake up,

“(Y/N)?” He groaned before his eyes shot opened and he stared at me, “(Y/N)!” he yelled hugging me, I chuckled as I hugged him back “I’m so sorry for being a huge asshole” He apologised as he pulled away and placed a hand on my bump, “I can’t believe I didn’t notice this” He said, I smiled

“I’ve been wearing looser tops for a reason, I mean it is small but it’s noticeable” I say,

“How far?” He asked,

“Five months” I answered,

“Five months?! And you’ve been going out?! What if you got shot?! What if you were kidnapped?! What if-” I cut him off with a kiss,

“I didn’t and I won’t go out anymore, alright?” I say, he just stared at me before nodding and pulling me on to his chest as he wrapped an arm around me and placed both hands on the bump.

***

“Argh! Damian’s come back to haunt me!” I heard Tim yell as I woke up, I wriggled myself from Jason’s grip and went out of my room to find Tim cowering behind a plant as Damian just stared at him with a deadpan look, I sighed

“Family meeting in the kitchen, now!” I yelled, I went down and found that Bruce and Alfred were already there, Dick ran in closely followed by Tim, “Stay here” I whisper to Damian, he nodded and I entered the kitchen, “So, last night, I may have gone back to the League of Assassins to bring Damian back” I confessed, they all stared at me with a blank look on their faces, “I’m not lying” I say as I pulled Damian into the kitchen, all their eyes widened before they all ran out of their seats and tackled him with a hug,

“Drake’s touching me” Damian whined making me chuckle and shaking my head

“Suck it up, demon-spawn” Jason said as he came into the kitchen and over to me, pecking my cheek, they all broke apart and regained their composure, “In other news, (Y/N)’s pregnant” Jason announced as he sipped his coffee, they all looked at me in shock, minus Dick,

“Gonna be an uncle!” Dick sang as he danced around the kitchen,

“This one’s not going to be another demon, is it?” Tim asked as he gave me a hug, I rolled my eyes and shook my head

“Not as I know of” I say making him smile as he pulled away and disappeared,

“I knew you were fatter when you hugged me last night” Damian said folding his arms, I raised an eyebrow

“Thanks Damian” I say, he nodded and left the kitchen, I turned to glare at Jason only to find him smiling at Dick’s dancing, Bruce cleared his throat,

“(Y/N), can I talk to you?” He asked, I nodded and followed him out of the kitchen,

“What’s-” I was cut off as he pulled me into a hug,

“Thank you” He said, I accepted his hug and then pulled away,

“Why?” I asked,

“For giving Jason happiness and bringing Damian back” He answered, I smiled “And I’m sorry for blaming Damian’s death on you” He apologised,

“I didn’t take it to heart” I reassured,

“Also, no more patrols or missions until the boy’s thirteen” He said, I groaned

“Why thirteen?” I asked,

“Because I said so” He said folding his arms,

“And he’s going to know his mother’s skills because Jason got jacksh*t” Dick commented as he exited the kitchen and avoided a pan being thrown at him.

“F*ck you!” Jason yelled as Dick ran away laughing, “He’s also going to need his mother by his side as his Dad, Uncle’s and Granddad are out cleaning the streets” Jason said as he wrapped his arms around my waist and rested his head on my shoulder,

“Why does everyone think it’s going to be a boy?” I asked,

“Have you seen the gender ratio here, it’s bound to be a boy” Tim stated from the staircase,

“Just because you’ve said that I hope it’s a girl to rub it in all your faces” I say, sticking my tongue at them

“What about you Alfred, boy or girl?” I asked looking at him,

“It would be nice for another woman in the house Miss (Y/N)” He smiled.

***

After the next four months, I gave birth to twin girls, we agreed to name one after Jason’s mother and the other after Bruce’s, I was currently taking them upstairs to bed when they was an explosion from the study making my eyes widened as the twins began to cry, I climbed up to the chandelier and hid on top of it as I calmed the girls down,

“Search the place!” Someone ordered, as a group of men ran up the stairs, I noticed Alfred on the phone in the kitchen

“Daddy’s going to be here soon, girls. Don’t worry” I whispered as I held them into my chest, Alfred noticed me with the girls and his face dropped before he gestured for me to get down as he created a distraction, I nodded and he disappeared, there was a loud collision from the living room making all the men run towards that area, I dropped off the chandelier and made no sound, I ran into the kitchen and was met by Alfred who took Martha off me,

“Are you okay?” He whispered, I nodded before the counter was shot at making me take cover sheltering Sheila, they stopped firing and I looked to Alfred, who shook his head “Not in the house, Miss (Y/N)” He pleaded as I handed him Sheila,

“No promises” I say as I got up and exited the kitchen,

“You know what’s worse that pissing off an assassin?” I asked, they all looked dumbfounded “Pissing off a mother who’s an assassin” I answered as I took down two of the men with my hidden blades, snapping a third one’s neck, then placing a single bullet in each off the remaining men’s head.

“(Y/N)!” Jason yelled as he ran into the manor only to me stood in the middle of the dead bodies,

“Welcome home” I greeted as the other four stood behind him, “Alfred, it’s safe to come out” I called out, he came out of the kitchen with the girls in his arms,

“I’ve got my work cut out for me” He commented on the dead bodies,

“I did say no promises” I smiled as I tossed the empty gun on the floor,

“I thought we promised no assassin life until the twins were thirteen?” Bruce asked, I gave him a deadpan look,

“You expected me to just chill on that chandelier until you got here?” I asked mentioning the chandelier above our heads.

“You took the girls up there?!” Jason asked,

“You should give her more credit, Master Jason. She managed to drop down from there without dropping the girls, or making them cry” Alfred complimented,

“Thank you Alfred. Now, it’s well past your bedtime” I say as I took Martha from Alfred’s arms and went for Sheila, but Jason picked her up and followed me up to our room, we placed them in their cribs before I sat on the bed removing the gauntlets that contained the hidden blades,

“You wear them when you’re with the girls?” He asked, I nodded

“They’re fascinated by them” I replied,

“What if you stabbed them?” He asked throwing his arms in the air, I sighed looking up at him,

“I wouldn’t stab them because in order for the blades to come out, I need to do a certain movement, they’re basically child proof” I say, he sighed running a hand over his face as I stood up, “Would you relax? They’re safe and are going to be fine” I say cupping his face,

“It’s not them I’m worried about” He said looking at me,

“Jason, I’m fine. I’m Ra Al Ghul’s granddaughter, for god sake, and I’ve died” I say reassuring him, he sighed before kissing me.

***

“Master Bruce, we have intruders…again” Alfred said through the com making my eyes widened as I glanced at Jason, he nodded and we jumped on his bike before racing to the manor, the girls have only just turned 13 and this was my first patrol since everyone found about me being pregnant, we arrived at the manor and burst through the door to find Martha and Sheila, stood back to back, in their Pjs, as a group of men laid unconscious around them,

“Hi Mum. Hi Dad” They said in unison as they smiled at us, Jason and myself just stared at them, while Alfred exited the kitchen and looked around at the bodies,

“At least they didn’t kill anyone” He said,

“See what I meant by them needing your skills” Dick said as he approached the left of me,

“I haven’t trained them” I replied,

“Then who did?” Jason asked,

“No one” Martha said,

“We observed you all training and used that” Sheila said, I sighed pulling them into a hug,

“So, you’re not mad?” They asked,

“At you knocking multiple men unconscious? No, but if you end up using these moves on a kid at school then, yes I will be” I replied pulling away from them, they high fived before Jason cleared his throat

“You two should be in bed” He said, they groaned rolling their eyes as they trudged up the stairs to their room,

“You’re such a buzzkill” I commented, he shrugged making me smile.

[artificialqueens]

gonna make em scream some day, gonna make it big 1/3 (shalaska) - rosetintedworld

AN: this was originally on ao3 (under the same name!) but ive decided to put it on here also because i love feedback and attention. some sugar mama sharon and sugar baby alaska tinder realness. 

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’tfancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbuckslocation when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

tags - alaska thunderfuck, sharon needles, shalaska, smut, lesbian au, sugar mama au, mommy kink

It wasn’t something she ever saw herself doing. Or even thought about doing until Violet mentioned it as a joke while scrolling through her Tinder and Alaska got a text from her manager saying she was booked for significantly fewer hours than before. She’d used dating apps before, yes, she was a Pisces. Alaska was a gentle lover. She was passionate and caring because love was fulfilling and completing. The second half of the circle that was her life. She’d been on Tinder and Bumble and any other “lesbian” dating app that had caught her eye. She’d even been on some dates, some successful, some not. None of them led to the romantic fantasy she dreamed of though, given her settings were to girls her age who most of the times were experimenting in their college days and didn’t want anything more than to drink and fuck and not talk again. Alaska was 21. She was a junior in college, she could go to bars and order booze herself, she could pay her bills (barely) in her run down apartment, and if she wanted to change up her online dating profile a little to target a slightly different audience, she damn well could.

So, that’s how her Tinder was back up and running, bio set to Alaska, 21, my names yours, whats alaska? performance major at pittsburgh u, starbucks barista extraordinaire, pisces (but im more of a snake than a fish), and yes i am naturally a platinum blonde and preferences set to woman ages 30-50. Her manager was left on delivered but her landlord was texted and asked about rent being a few days late. She sent a silent prayer to anyone who was listening before settling into bed on her stomach and opening the aforementioned app.

The glow of her iPhone screen illuminated her face in the now dark room. Pittsburgh was busy outside, which was typical for a Thursday night when you lived in the middle of the city. Not what some would say was the good middle of the city, but middle of the city nonetheless. Middle of the city enough that Alaska was living paycheck to paycheck trying to make rent while her building simultaneously was falling apart. What was good though, was the handful of woman Alaska was willing to swipe right on. Katya, 35, former Russian gymnast and now a hot blonde yoga instructor.  Bianca, 43, a seamstress with dimples for days. Raja, 45, a makeup artist who happened to be drop dead gorgeous too, which wasn’t quite fair in Alaska’s books.

Sharon, 42, writer of indie horror films. Busty, blonde with hints of silver, permanent bedroom eyes and velvet lips. Her Tinder pictures were her with a raggedy looking cat, her with her head thrown back in laughter and a bottle Pabst, her in a silk robe with tortoiseshell glasses perched on her nose and a glass of champagne in her hand. Alaska hovered on the profile for a moment. She tried to take in the tattoos and the dimple in her chin. The high cheekbones and her sultry glare and the way her clothes hung to her curves. Her thumbs hovered and she sucked in a deep breath before super liking and clicking her phone shut. From under her pillow, her phone buzzed but she ignored it and pulled her blanket up to her chin.

—

The first thing Alaska does after she wakes up is check her phone and have a minor heart attack over the messages on her screen. Well, that’s a lie. The first thing she does is de-tangle her hair from the elastic it was in, push herself up from her mattress on the floor and stretch until she can hear her back crack, make herself a coffee, and then almost spill the scalding liquid on herself when she clicks her phone open.

Sharon: Well, aren’t you a sweet little thing?

Sharon: What are you up to doll?

The hot horror babe double her age had super-liked her back and messaged her first.

Alaska: oh shit sorry, i fell asleep last night !

Sharon responds in nearly a minute and they fall into easy conversation. Alaska mentions she’s up to nothing, really, as she’s not booked for work and there was still a good two weeks before she had to start classes again. The other woman mentions just writing and sketching, working on concepts but other than that doing “fuck all”. The conversation turns shallow, as online dating conversations usually do, and Sharon mentions how Alaska’s gorgeous, how her smile could kill and how her hips are mesmerizing. She asks for a picture and Alaska doesn’t know why she’s blushing all the way up her chest. Or why she spends 5 minutes trying to fix herself up to send a photo to impress a woman she doesn’t know.

—

It was only two nights later when Alaska had agreed to meet Sharon for dinner.

She had scoured her closet for something to wear on a date. Going to bars and clubs, sure. She had clothes for that. Clothes for a date with a woman 21 years her senior who showered her in compliments, was extremely blunt, and had a charmingly crude sense of humour? Yeah, can’t say she’s had to dress for that before. But there’s always a first time for everything. She settles eventually on a sparkly black bralette that dips in slightly to show her cleavage and a black pencil skirt. The length of the pencil skirt cancels out the sexuality of the bralette and the way the skirt hugs her hips, obviously. For good measure, she pairs it with a floral blue kimono and what she hopes are her best pair of black fuck me heels.

The restaurant Sharon had picked out was a couple of blocks away. It was some fancy vegetarian place that Alaska had never heard of, but from a quick Google search she concluded that it was definitely out of her price range and somewhere she could never imagine herself stepping into. It’d be like a bull in a china shop, out of the ordinary and a very bad idea. She wasn’t fancy. Sure, one day, when she was a performer making millions maybe she would’ve returned to the city and ate at some fancy vegetarian restaurant. But now, a simple Starbucks barista who had a mattress in the corner of her room and wallpaper made of sketches and drawings? Nope.

It’s only when she got to the restaurant that she realized she was shaking. Why was she so nervous? She had thanked her Uber driver with a nervous smile and rated five stars, watching as he drove away while wringing her hands together nervously.

The inside was beautiful. All velvet upholstery. There was soft music playing and the walls were lined with paintings. It was classy and chic. And it smelt expensive. There was even a maître d who eyed her as she stood, nearly trembling in her heels like a deer caught in the headlights. It was embarrassing and she thought for a moment of just leaving. She was here to have a good night and hopefully get laid by an extremely hot woman and she was in it to win it but right now she wasn’t feeling like a winner.

“Alaska!” A woman called from a booth in the right corner, almost completely out of view and Alaska dipped away from the maître d with a shy smile and scurried over.

She was more gorgeous in person, somehow. Her blonde hair was clipped back from her face and the dim lighting didn’t reveal much, but Alaska could see the glimpses of silver where stray locks of hair fell around her face. Her cheekbones were high and her face was contoured and hollowed out. Her lips were pouty and plush. They’d be nice to kiss. Probably. Hopefully. Her tortoiseshell glasses were perched on her nose and Alaska could see from behind them where Sharon’s eyeshadow was creasing slightly where it fell into her crows feet. She wanted to brush it away, feel Sharon’s soft looking skin under her fingers.

Strong arms were hugging Alaska before she was able to process what was happening. Sharon was warm around her, rubbing her back and squeezing her waist. Her short sleeved blazer and pencil skirt was clinging to her body, the burnt orange contrasting with the black of Sharon’s bra that was spilling from where the buttons didn’t go quite high enough. Alaska trailed her eyes up the long leather gloves she was wearing and over the tattoo of a phone number just where the gloves ended above her elbow.

“Sit, sit! Hi darling, how are you?” Sharon’s eyes twinkled as she sat back down, pouring out two glasses of wine from the bottle already sitting on the table.

“I’m, uh, really well! Thank you! How about yourself?” Alaska smiled, graciously taking the wine. Maybe the alcohol would soothe her nerves. “Also sorry for running a bit late. Traffic. You know.”

“Don’t even worry about it!” Sharon shrugs and smiles before reaching out and resting her hand over Alaska’s on the table.

Sharon is touchy. Her heel clad foot is hooked around Alaska’s ankle and trailing up and down her calf slowly. Goosebumps raise on Alaska’s skin and she wonders if Sharon can feel them, or if she can sense when her breath catches in her throat and her cheeks flush. She’s always reaching across the table and taking Alaska’s hand in her own, bumping hands when passing a menu over or leaning across to grasp at her arm when Alaska says something funny enough to make Sharon throw her head back in laughter.

They talk and eat and drink. Sharon leans forward to feed Alaska bites of her risotto, claiming that her soup simply can’t be enough and she doesn’t care about the price. The waitress comes and goes with another bottle of wine and Alaska pours herself another glass, stains it with her lipstick and Sharon makes her laugh so hard red wine comes out of her nose much to her embarrassment.

Her eyes are bright and intense. Sharon’s asking Alaska about where she works, what she does. Alaska’s cheeks are pink from the attention but she doesn’t mind, really. Sharon listens when she talks about being a performance major, how she loves plays (especially musicals) and how she writes songs (but they’re mostly parodies, because they’re more fun) and how she really wants to make it big some day. She listens as Alaska talks about her brothers, who are either doctors or in the military and the wine talks about how sometimes she feels a little bit ashamed of herself for not being as successful as them. Sharon is intelligent yet ditzy, listening when it’s important, sniping in with comments and questions when necessary, sometimes distracting herself with a related story from her past or a pop-culture reference Alaska raises her eyebrow at. It’s nice.

Sharon’s gloved hands are on her arm and then in her purse to pay the bill and leave a very generous tip. Alaska’s eyes widen at the price but Sharon is already pulling her away and outside with an arm around her waist. Her grip is strong and steadies Alaska where she’s feeling tipsy and clumsy on her feet, heels clacking on the sidewalk. The flick of a lighter brings her back to her senses and she watches, hypnotized, as Sharon lights a cigarette and breathes deeply. Smoking has never been a turn on her for, really. But the way the smoke leaves Sharon’s soft lips and the way her eyes go hazy is enough for Alaska to press a kiss to her jaw so Sharon will hail a cab for the both of them.

The back of the cab is stuffy and hot. Sharon’s hands are on Alaska’s thighs and in her hair and Alaska’s eyes are dark. She shifts to wrap a hand around the back of Sharon’s neck and pull her in for a kiss. Their lips press together in a rush, teeth clinking. It feels so cliche and wrong, making out in the back of a taxi. Sharon’s hand is resting on her thigh and she’s nipping at Alaska’s lip so softly she has to hold back her moans. It’s dirty and wrong how much Alaska wants Sharon to take her right then and there, so luckily Sharon’s building is only a few blocks away and it’s not long until Sharon’s paying and tipping and pulling Alaska out of the vehicle.

They stumble past the doorman with a nod and Alaska forces herself not to think about how often Sharon must do this, stumble in drunkenly with a girl on her arm late at night. They press into the elevator and Sharon corners her as they go up the twenty-six flights to her apartment, peppering kisses on her skin and tugging at the hems of her clothes.

From the elevator down the hall to Sharon’s apartment is a blur. Inside, it’s all minimal decor and chandeliers and art on the walls. The floor is hardwood and the furniture is neat and tidy. In her drunken haze, Sharon manages to give a quick tour. Quick tour meaning pointing out the different rooms in the large apartment while stripping herself of her gloves and heels and Alaska following suit as Sharon drags her forward by the hand.

The master bedroom, somehow, exceeds Alaska’s expectations. But then again this woman was a mystery wrapped in an enigma and she wasn’t sure what to expect in the first place. The far wall is all window and she can see all the lights from the city flickering. A chandelier in front of the window from an apartment across the ways twinkles and Alaska can feel the wine in her bloodstream. The floors are dark, the walls are cream and the furniture is matte black. It’s elegant and chic. Alaska can feel Sharon’s eyes on her and wants the floor to swallow her whole. Against the wall is a king sized bed and the headboard is tall, the bars thin and simple and Alaska needs to be fucked and grasping onto them right now. There’s art on the walls and vintage movie posters and Alaska can spot an open sketchbook on the nightstand. Her eyes flicker back to the window when she hears a plane fly overhead.

“You like the view?” It’s more of a statement than a question. Alaska nods anyways. She can feel Sharon’s smile and flushes all up her chest.

Sharon presses her body up along Alaska’s back. She can feel the fabric of her dress and the softness of her breasts against her spine. Her hair brushes Alaska’s shoulders when it’s released from the clip and she has the urge to touch it. She wants to feel it through her fingers and sort out the greys from the blonds, hear Sharon sigh when she massages her scalp. Sharon’s warm against her and presses her forward softly until they’re standing in front of the window and Alaska can see people on the sidewalk. She wonders if they know what’s going on stories above them.

There’s a tug on the zipper of Alaska’s skirt then the cool air is hitting her thighs and Sharon’s helping her step out of it. The older woman hums. It’s low and soft and she can feel it against her shoulder when Sharon tucks her chin over it. She presses a kiss to Alaska’s neck and watches goosebumps rise where her lipstick leaves a mark.

Any other hook-ups Sharon would get the other girl to strip. Make her put on a show for her and work for it. Or it’d be fast and there’d be a trail of clothes from the front door to the bedroom. Like some X-rated drunken Hansel and Gretel. At least it served its purpose when Sharon pretended to be asleep and willed the other person to find their way out in the morning. But Alaska was different. Sharon undresses her slowly in attempt to take her all in. Her thighs were milky and soft. There were the slightest of pink stretch marks where her hips had filled out and the older woman took her time tracing them if only to feel Alaska shiver under her. The things she would do to keep the younger girl shivering under her hands. She slid her kimono off, followed by her bralette so she could cup her breasts and squeeze before pulling her underwear down her hips.

Sharon’s still humming. Completely nonchalant. Alaska has to wonder how many girls she takes home. How many of them she strips in front of the window. If she presses the pads of her thumbs into the underside of their breasts and pinches their nipples and hips just to hear them squeak. Sharon’s still fully dressed, save for her glasses, heels, and gloves that were shed earlier. She debated on keeping the gloves on, too. If only to see the way Alaska would shiver and blush when a cool leather finger would run through Alaska’s folds only to come out shiny and wet. Next time.

“Sharon…” Alaska’s voice is whiny and Sharon shushes her, tapping her finger on her lips until Alaska takes it into her mouth.

“What do you want, baby?” Sharon’s calm and collected. The opposite of Alaska, whose heart is beating against her ribcage so hard it may break. She groans in reply.

Sharon pinches at her nipple with on hand, slipping another finger from her other hand in Alaska’s mouth when she gasps in response. She stumbles forward slightly and presses her palms against the glass as Sharon wraps an arm around her waist to keep her steady. There’s people below bustling on the sidewalk and she can see the people in apartments over. Her breath comes out hot and the window fogs where it hits.

“I got you, it’s okay. Such a pretty baby.” Sharon pets her hair, it’s long and soft in her palm, “I bet everyone outside loves the view just as much as you do.”

Alaska’s thighs shake as Sharon removes her fingers from her mouth. They’re slick with spit and Alaska watches the trail of saliva between her lips and Sharon’s fingers, dips her tongue forward to lick it up. Suddenly, Sharon’s fingers press up against her clit and she groans. Her head falls back against Sharon’s shoulder and her fingers curl against the glass searching to find purchase. The window feels like ice against her skin. But it may just be from the way her skin is radiating heat and the sweat is sticking to her. Sharon rubs slow circles and watches how Alaska’s hip shakes. Her left thigh twitches when Sharon trails a single finger back and forth over the nerves and her hips jerk forward when she presses the heel of her hand against it in order to rub against her hole with her fingers.

“Tell me what you want. I just want to make you feel good.” Sharon’s voice is warm and she can feel the pout against her ear. She’s teasing. Her fingers skate past Alaska’s clit again and she presses the tip of a finger inside of her. It slips just past the muscle until the younger girl gasps and then it’s gone.

“Fuck me, please. Please mama. God.” Alaska’s whining high in her throat. Her throat catches on the mama and she flushes from embarrassment, all up her chest to her cheeks. Sharon kisses and smiles against her shoulder.

Alaska nearly cries when Sharon slips a finger inside her. Her pussy is warm and wet and Sharon fucks her slow. The sound echoes in the otherwise silent room and Alaska whimpers. Her centre is pink and swollen and Sharon relishes in the sound, slips another finger in without problem and scissors them just to hear Alaska’s embarrassed cry when she comments on how wet she is. Her fingers work slow and Alaska is squirming enough that Sharon has to wrap her arm back around her waist, pressing her naked form against Sharon’s clothed one to keep her still. Alaska’s trailing her hands backwards. Up into Sharon’s hair and down her side, around to her ass and thighs, then back down to try and intertwine their fingers and press Sharon deeper into her.

“Alaska baby, no. You’ll get there. I’ll take care of you.” Sharon tsked, her tone stern.

Alaska whines and curls her fingers into Sharon’s arm. Sharon digs her fingers deeper and crooks them. Alaska’s bowlegged knees buckle and she reaches out again to steady herself against the window and lean back against Sharon. Her eyes are glued shut and her lips are parted and Sharon works her so sweetly, pumping two fingers and swiping her thumb in soft circles around Alaska’s clit.

“You gonna cum? So beautiful. Cum for me baby girl.” Sharon murmurs. Her eyes are dark and downcast, shaded by her eyelashes.

Alaska finishes with a cry and her legs give out. Her small frame is shaking and Sharon holds her close, shifts them until they’re back onto the bed and Alaska is panting. The city light reflects on the sweat on Alaska’s chest. Her breasts are illuminated and Sharon leans down to nip at a nipple and Alaska gasps from the overstimulation.

Quickly, Sharon sheds her clothing, nearly ripping a button from her dress in the process. She shifts Alaska onto her back and moves to straddle her chest. Alaska’s panting. Her breasts fall when she exhales and Sharon watches how they shake, reaches out to pinch the skin around her nipple. Her thumb trails against Alaska’s lips and she opens her mouth for it, suckling it and groaning around the digit. A whine escapes her when Sharon pulls her thumb away and trails spit across her bottom lip to see how they glisten.

Sharon’s hips move of their own accord, shifting upwards until she’s against Alaska’s mouth. Her tongue laps out immediately. She presses the flat of her tongue against Sharon’s clit and hears her groan closed mouth. She prods more then, circling around the nub until Sharon is circling her hips above her and grinding against her mouth. Alaska moves her hands to Sharon’s thighs, gives them a squeeze and presses her nose against the groomed hairs. Her breath is cut off and she can feel herself flushing from the effort but she can’t find it in her to stop. The older woman is shaking above her and Alaska sucks hard on her clit. Wetness covers the bottom of Alaska’s face and Sharon whimpers before lifting herself off.

“So good. So, so good doll.” Sharon shifts until they’re both under the sheets and presses a kiss to Alaska’s lips, chin, jaw, cheek. She sighs out through her nose and pulls the girl close to her, nudging her knee between the other’s thighs and holding her head to her chest until Alaska’s breathing matches the beating of her heart.

—

When Alaska wakes, the spot in bed beside her is cold and there’s a dull ache deep in her skull. Sunlight filters in through the large window and Alaska has to squint to look around the room. The cream sheets are glowing pale yellow in the light. They’re soft against her skin where she feels sweaty and gross, and it takes a moment for Alaska to remember where she is. The framed poster for a campy 80s slasher films jerks her memory. Sharon.

She pads out of bed slowly, shifting over to the dresser where she finds last night’s clothes folded up neatly along with a pair of shorts and shirt that Sharon must’ve left out. It’s weird, almost domestic. Most hook ups don’t do this. But then again, most hook ups weren’t older goth women who spend over $100 at dinner without a blink of an eye then fuck Alaska in front of their gigantic window up on the 26th floor of a high class apartment. Alaska squeezes back into her pencil skirt and slips her bralette over her head while making her way out to the rest of the apartment.

There’s a note on the island in the kitchen, atop the granite.

I’m so sorry, I had to run before you woke up! You look gorgeous even in your sleep .. Is that weird to say?

Feel free to shower and help yourself to breakfast and coffee.

I would love to see you again, doll. <3

Sharon Needles

There’s a mug with little ghosts on it beside the note and it’s all too weird and too much. Alaska orders an Uber with the last of her phone battery, adds the number scribbled at the bottom of the paper into her contacts, then tucks the note into the back of her phone case. The doorman downstairs gives her a nod of acknowledgement when she eaves the building and as she got into her Uber she lets out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding.

The rest of the day went by in a haze. Alaska took a cold, cold shower and puttered around her apartment making shitty coffee and a bowl of cereal before going to work. Her afternoon shift was full of fake smiles and frappuccinos and she spilled hot coffee on herself in a distracted haze and cursed, her co-workers giving her concerned glances. It wasn’t her fault. It was purely coincidence how she kept getting distracted whenever she noticed the crows feet on a lady sitting in the corner or the grey-blue eyes of the young girl she was taking an order from.

She texted Sharon when she got home.  

—

The next time they meet up it’s during the day in a nice area downtown. It’s a very Liberal area. Rainbow crosswalk and all. It’s chalked full of vegan restaurants and nice little expensive shops and it’s another area that Alaska would love to be able to walk down on a random afternoon and not feel intimidated, but that’s not quite the case right now.

Alaska’s in a white shirt tucked into a black skater skirt with a flannel, and half her hair is pulled up into two buns. She feels cute. And gay. And she hopes Sharon thinks the same enough to like, hold her hand or something, or finger her in the washroom of some mom-and-pop restaurant. Maybe both. She tries not to think too much about it as her Uber parks just down the road from the diner Sharon told her to meet her at.

The restaurant is small and cute, not to mention far less intimidating from the last place. There’re plants hanging from the ceiling and a large fish tank. It’s earthy and warm. Scanning the room, there’s no sign of Sharon but before she goes and sits down to wait she hears a soft ‘boo!’ from behind her. Alaska flushes at how she jumped in response and Sharon laughs, pulling her into a hug. The booths are made of worn down leather and the floor creaks slightly as they make their way to a seat. She feels far more “in her element” here, yet her chest still feels tight as Sharon sits across from her.

Her hair is soft and curled, but her eyes are dark and blown out and her lips are plump and red. It’s a dramatic look for one o’clock on a Tuesday, but Alaska doesn’t mind. Her black mock neck shirt hugs her body and her pants are tight and match her lips. It’s modern and chic and Alaska feels underdressed. But Sharon’s gaze is smouldering and trails down her body with a smile. It feels oddly familiar. Oddly comforting.

Sharon asks the waiter if they have Pabst in bottles, not on tap, (they do), and Alaska orders a lemonade. The menu is handwritten and cute, with tacky pun names and illustrations. A foot brushes up against Alaska’s and Sharon’s hand is on her arm. She’s humming as she reads, her lips pursed. Her cool eyes are squinted slightly from her lack of glasses and her crows feet crease slightly. It’s endearing, really. Her fingers are tracing the blue veins under the skin and Alaska wonders if she can feel the goosebumps raising, or if she even realizes she’s doing it in the first place. She imagines Sharon can feel the blood pulsing under her skin. A steady rhythm. By the time the waiter comes back to take their order Alaska had barely read the menu and stumbles slightly, ordering a salad. Sharon shoots her a knowing smile, curling her fingers around Alaska’s small wrist.

“So what do you do, exactly?” Sharon raises her eyebrows at the question, letting her thumb rub at Alaska’s arm.

“Well…” She pauses to take a sip of her beer, “To put it simply I work on short films. They’re just independent projects, mostly horror. I’ve always loved the genre and I love creating and I had the money so I said fuck it, got a group together and we’ve been working together since. We have a pretty strong fan base too, fucked up if you ask me.” Sharon laughs, big and booming in the otherwise calm restaurant.

Alaska smiles and asks about her projects. Her eyes light up when she talks and Alaska can see how her cheekbones protrude when she smiles that wide. The older woman talks about horror movies she admires, how growing up the weird goth dyke made her truly admire the villains in films who got revenge on the preps and the jocks. Most other people would be terrified to hear how their date relates to the killers in these films, but with Sharon it makes sense. She throws herself entirely into her work. Throws herself into the scripts and the storyboards and all the inspirations. She’s always hovering around people on set and fucking with lighting and costumes then marathoning films she’s seen before and can probably quote word for word. This woman is intelligent and intense but spooky and stupid and Alaska doesn’t quite know what to make of her.  

They eat, and talk, and Sharon drinks a few more PBR. Alaska steals a fry from Sharon’s plate and dips it in the surprisingly good vegan milkshake Sharon had guilted her into ordering, just because she refused a lemonade refill and that just wasn’t happening in Sharon’s books. The older woman threw another fry at her for Alaska’s amusement. She was like a baby. A cute one, not an annoying crying one. She was one that you just wanted to keep cooing and giggling and happy. They ordered cheesecake to share and Sharon fed it to her across the table, watching as Alaska’s lips pursed around the fork.

When they go to pay, Alaska pulls her wallet out of her purse. Sharon tsks and gives her a warning look to put her wallet away, and Alaska tries to ignore the way heat pools in her stomach.

As they leave, Sharon snakes an arm around Alaska’s waist. It fits there, and Alaska doesn’t mind. Her hand dips into the curve of her small waist and settles on her hip. It’s a warm heaviness and Alaska has to walk a little closer to Sharon due to it.

“Y’know, I didn’t realize I was gay until my senior year of high school maybe.” Alaska looks down at the small ceramic ghost in her hand, thinks that Sharon might like it. Her voice startles Sharon from where she’s standing a few feet away looking at a similar ceramic cat.

“Really? You come across as the loud and proud type. Like head cheerleader that all the bi-curious girls go to behind the bleachers to get their lesbian cherry popped.”

“Okay fair enough. Let me guess, little goth bitch who punched out anyone who tried to cuss you out for being a dyke?” Alaska fires back, putting down the small ghost and patting its head.

“I’ve had my fair share of physical encounters . I’ll admit to that. No shame in punching someone’s teeth in when they disrespect you.” Sharon raises her eyebrows in question to Alaska, “Although it did take half of freshman year before I started fighting back. I don’t eat meat but I’ll use ‘em to nurse a black eye if I have to.”

The older woman laughs but Alaska can’t help but imagine her younger, smaller. 14 year old Sharon nursing her wounds because some asshole thought she was a good target. 14 year old Sharon reapplying black lipstick in an abandoned girls’ washroom. 14 year old Sharon being unapologetically herself despite her entire school seemingly working against her because she was a bit eccentric and queer. 14 year old Sharon going home and watching shitty horror movies as a distraction from the shit she had to deal with. It tugged on Alaska’s heart strings.

From antique shops to run down clubs to vintage boho chic clothing stores, they check them all out. Alaska tries on a dress that looks like it’s made of trash bags and spins, laughing as it floats up around her. Sharon hides behind a shelf in a costume store, popping out with fake teeth and a witch hat on to startle Alaska. Alaska tries on a horse mask at the back of the store, recalling how people in school used to call her horse face . It doesn’t bother her anymore though, and she neighs in the mask before ripping it off and laughing.

“If we ever get into a fight I’ll just buy us animal masks. You can’t be pissed off at someone when you’re a fucking horse and they’re a frog” Sharon shifts through the masks, laughing before pulling on Alaska’s arm back to the front of the store.

The next store they go into is pastel and airy. They sell lingerie and chiffon peignoirs, lace slip dresses and thigh high stockings with matching garters. It’s all out of Alaska’s price range. This isn’t just a store that you go to when going out with friends shopping. She knows this. And she knows Sharon knows this. Sharon walks in like she owns the place, one arm still wrapped around Alaska’s waist like she owns her and the other weaving through fabrics.

“What’s your size, baby?” Sharon presses a kiss to her cheek and Alaska can feel her throat close in.

Her fingers clench into a fist. She’s sweating. Why is she sweating?

“Uh, I’m a 36C. Medium for everything else, I guess.”

Sharon hums and shifts through the isles. The bags on her arm dig into the skin, making it pink and white. Alaska wants to kiss it. Sharon purchased some tacky looking Halloween knick-knacks, and anything Alaska looked at for over ten seconds and seemed interested in. It made her blush when Sharon insisted on buying it. They both drift around the store for a while, brushing off the sleepy looking girl who asked if they needed any help.

Eventually, they end up near the back by the empty changing rooms. Sharon pulls Alaska into one, pulling the pale pink door shut behind her and clicking the lock shut. It’s a roomy area, with a large mirror on the back wall. The two walls are lined with benches and there’s a small circle stool in the corner. Alaska can feel the air heating up. Or maybe it’s just her. Sharon’s hanging things up on the hooks and looking back at Alaska expectantly when minutes pass and she’s still fully dressed.

“Don’t be shy, baby.” Sharon’s voice is soft. Her thighs spill outwards from where she’s sitting on the stool and she crosses her legs, resting her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands.

Alaska sucks in a breath before stripping, gauging her actions based on Sharon’s face. She tries on all the pieces Sharon picked out, ranging from sheer bras and thongs to intricate high wasted panties with matching garters and stockings. She tries on all the robes and slips, lets Sharon run her hands over the silk dawning her thighs. She spins her finger and Alaska turns in each outfit to show how her ass peeks out of the underwear and how her hair runs soft down her back. Sharon’s making soft sounds.

When Alaska gets to the last set, black high waisted fucking crotchless panties with the bra and stockings to match, she feels her face go red hot. It was before, definitely, but this ensemble (if you will) was truly the cherry on top of this fucked up sexually frustrating sundae. She changes slowly, folding the last pieces and putting them back on their hangers on the wall.

“Can you be good for me?” Sharon’s voice comes as a surprise and Alaska nods, spinning around to face the woman.  “Sit down pumpkin. Spread your legs.”

Alaska’s head was spinning. She lowered herself onto the bench slowly and pulled at her knees to spread her legs. Sharon’s gaze was red hot and Alaska squirmed.

“You’re so wet.” Alaska could hear Sharon laugh and she twitched, moving her legs back together slightly. “No baby, you’re being so good. I wanna see you.”

Alaska’s lungs were collapsing. Her insides were burning and she felt so dirty and flustered and they were in a damn changing room . Sharon was fully dressed, legs crossed and lighting a cigarette even though it was against the rules because she just didn’t care. Smoke plumed upwards and she took a long drag, ashing her cigarette against the edge of the stool and turning back to where Alaska was squirming, the air conditioned air hitting her cunt.

“Can you touch yourself for me? I want you to fuck yourself with one finger baby, don’t want you to make too much of a mess.”

Sharon’s voice was so soft yet stern and Alaska wanted to cry. She grazed her index finger over her clit and jerked before tracing around her whole. She was wet. Just from trying on the lingerie and modelling for Sharon. Just being around Sharon. Sharon who had such a domineering energy. Sharon with her hand on the small of her back pressing her forward. Sharon feeding her cheesecake even when she thought she was full. Alaska pressed one finger in and gasped, squeezing her eyes shut to avoid the embarrassment of making eye contact with the other woman.

“Nice and slow, or else the whole store will hear how wet you are right now. Or would you like that? If someone walked back right now and could hear how wet you are, how you’re trying to hold back all your pretty little noises as you put on a show for me.” Sharon to try and relieve the pressure between her own thighs, “Touch your clit for me hun, with your other hand. You’re so good. So pretty”

Alaska gasped with the intensity of it all. Her thumb on her clit and her middle finger pressing up inside of her, shooting stars behind her eyelids. She could feel Sharon watching her, how her eyes were raking up and down her body as she thrust her hips into her own hands. The bench underneath her was probably wet but at this point she couldn’t bring herself to care. The dozy girl working up front could walk in on them, unlock the door from the outside and ask what was taking them so long and Alaska wouldn’t be able to find it in herself to care as long as Sharon wanted her to keep going.

“Sharon, I can’t, I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me baby.” Alaska’s hips shook and she clenched her jaw to try and keep her noises in as she thrust, panting as she came down from her high.

Sharon stood then and sucked Alaska’s wet fingers into her mouth. They left with a pop! and Sharon smiled, letting Alaska change in silence before purchasing everything she picked out and pulling Alaska into an Uber back to her apartment building.

—

School starts up again. Alaska’s in her final year of university. Soon, she’ll have her Bachelor’s Degree in Performing Arts. She’ll be able to move out to LA like she wanted and be successful. She can star in films and put out an album and make it big. She can make her parents proud along with her medical and military brother because she can be successful too! They all thought she wouldn’t make anything of herself. Sure, maybe she’d move out to LA like she’d always dreamed of, but make it big? Nah. Her mom was convinced she was just going to become some drug addicted deviant, but hey, isn’t that the superstar lifestyle anyways?

Alaska’s plans may have changed drastically. As the weeks turned into months, she spent less and less time at her own run down apartment. It wasn’t that she moved in with Sharon, per se, it was just that over time she had ended up moving out of her apartment. Not to mention Sharon had seen one text from her landlord saying that her rent was far overdo and got so worried, telling Alaska to not worry about it because she had it covered. (Which was embarrassing on Alaska’s part, considering any time not spent in a lecture hall was probably spent working, but inflation was a bitch, y’know?). So it’s not like it was some big ordeal when two and a half months into whatever they had, Alaska was staying there most of the time. She just needed a place to stay until she could find somewhere she could actually afford, and Sharon was willing to give her a helping hand! It also helped that Sharon had a tongue that made her see God.

The move in was gradual. Alaska had a healthy collection of clothes and lingerie at Sharon’s apartment, just from previous dates where Sharon insisted she buy everything for Alaska because it just looked so cute on her and she had her own bills to pay, so Sharon would buy. Eventually, a toothbrush showed up in the holder beside Sharon’s. And Alaska’s fancy purple shampoo she splurged on to keep her hair platinum. And a collection of socks and pajamas and other clothes that Alaska would just happen to leave there but never return to her apartment. Of course, since so much of her wardrobe and electronics and chargers and, well, everything, somehow ended up at Sharon’s flat, Alaska spent more and more time there. It was just convenient, that was all.

Alaska’s life was good. Different from where she thought she would be at this point in her life, but good. Violet was hounding her about the “friend” she was staying with, and about how she seemed to have that “post-sex glow” (as she liked to call it) 24-fucking-7, but Violet was a bitch and too nosy for her own good.

She spent her afternoons in the living room of the apartment, practicing lines from a production that was worth quite a hefty amount of her grade. Cerrone was her only spectator. He didn’t throw rotten tomatoes or boo her off of the coffee table stage though, so she takes what she can get. Sometimes Sharon would come home early and watch her, give her pointers and then tell her to stop repeating the same damn lines for the 50th time and put her mouth to good use. It was a good break. Sharon brought up the idea a few times, putting Alaska in some of her short films. It’d be fun! The gorgeous ditzy blonde in a gore-y horror short film? Instant blockbuster! People love cliche shit like that. Plus, Sharon would love to have Alaska on set with her all day.

It was nice, truly. Sharon took them out for dinner or made fancy vegetarian meals. She’d wake Alaska up with her head between her thighs, leaving Alaska to shudder awake in a cool sweat and groaning. There’d be small notes with hearts on them when Sharon would disappear before Alaska got up. Sharon would have an Uber waiting outside Alaska’s Starbucks location when she was done work, and sometimes Sharon would even pop in herself to visit even though Alaska knows she’d rather support local businesses than the industry coffee shop she worked at. Sharon bought her fancy clothes and shoes and lingerie just to see Alaska blush and squirm. Alaska would get all quiet and call Sharon mommy and curl up on the couch beside her, pressing kisses to her neck to distract her from the movie she was watching. Or, she’d get bratty and call her mama , call Sharon on set when she was in the apartment alone touching herself. Life was good.

—

Alaska more or less moving in only proved to show how needy she was. She was worse than a pet, but Sharon only had Cerrone to compare her to so maybe it wasn’t the fairest comparison. They both bit Sharon, though. Alaska would text Sharon while she was on set, something along the lines of noodles i miss you :( when are you going to be hoooome? sharonnnn i need you. mama please with an image attached of Alaska leaning up against the pillows wearing one of Sharon’s old shirts, with the tip of one thumb in her mouth and two fingers from her other hand knuckle deep in her cunt. Sharon would have to call it a day early and rush home, finger fuck Alaska into the couch cushions until she saw stars and called Sharon mommy despite how embarrassed she got after.

Sharon loved it, how open Alaska was becoming with her. She stopped hiding her phone calls with her brother, instead she would saunter around the kitchen and sit herself upon Sharon’s lap while she listened to Cory talk about the girl he met at the gym. Sharon would tickle her thigh, slip a finger into her panties just to feel how wet she already was and circle her clit until Alaska hung up the phone. Alaska would come back from her lectures and talk about her professors and how her auditions went. She’d write her essays on the leather couch while Sharon painted her toenails baby pink, ate her out while they dried and let Alaska drop her notes and pen onto the hardwood. Sharon liked how Alaska was becoming less shy, how she would pout when she didn’t get her way and call Sharon mama in public just to be a brat and start a scene. Alaska would press kisses to her cheek unprompted, would stop shying away when Sharon payed their dinner bill and bought her fancy lingerie and shoes, would let Sharon give her glasses of wine all day and press on her bladder while fingering her until she cried.

Today was no different. Alaska knew Sharon was out talking to some of her “creative partners” about an idea she had, an idea that she had been sketching and writing for hours after Alaska had fallen asleep on the couch beside her, toes tucked between Sharon’s thighs. She knew Sharon was having some sort of creative breakthrough and was busy. But Alaska was in the apartment alone, and Sharon had left before she woke up. So now she was just lonely and sad and her underwear shifted coldly against her.

lasky <3: noodles when will you be home?

noodles <333: I don’t know baby .. The girl I’m at lunch with is a really talented costume and prop designer. Even if she is a bit stand-offish.

lasky <3: but i neeeeeed you :(

Alaska sent a photo. She was in a sheer pink robe Sharon had bought for her. It was flowy and elegant and trailed behind Alaska on the floor when she walked. It made her feel like an old housewife. She wanted a spiral staircase, wanted to stand at the top of it with a glass of champagne in her hand. Underneath it she wore nothing. She was pouty and annoyed and leaning back on the couch pillows, lips parted and pinching a nipple between two fingers.

noodles <333: I’ll be home in an hour .. Picking up some things. Hope you know how spoiled you are. Brat.

lasky <3: :) :) :) <3

When Sharon gets home, her heart nearly beats out of her chest. She’s had her fair number of romances. Mostly with woman her own age, sometimes younger. Some of them even made it past the six month mark in their relationship. There was something about Alaska though that had Sharon’s head spinning. It was like her entire world had shifted by this girl and was spinning backwards on its axis. Backwards and upside-down. And double time. Whatever. Alaska was curled up on the couch, nude except for the robe, with Cerrone in her lap. She was humming softly to herself and her toes were curled into the couch cushions where her legs were folded underneath her. The natural light made her hair and skin glow and it was so soft and right. Long term didn’t usually work with Sharon. The only long term relationships she had were with cocaine and whiskey and fucking Cerrone the cat, who she didn’t even want in the first place. So why did coming back to her apartment daily to Alaska make it feel more like a home than ever before?

“You’re such a brat, you know that, right?” At the sound of Sharon’s voice Cerrone hops off of Alaska, allowing her to get up to greet Sharon.

“Lies, mama. You’re full of lies.” Alaska laughs and presses a kiss to the dimple in Sharon’s chin. “What’d you get me?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know. Go lie down, pumpkin.” Sharon kisses the side of her hair and gives her ass a tap before Alaska nods and heads to the bedroom.

Alaska’s long and full on the bed. Her hips and breasts filled out more after being with Sharon. Sharon took her out for lunch and dinner, fed her cheesecake and other expensive desserts. She always made sure her baby was cared for. Alaska’s hips were soft and propped up with a long pillow, and her breasts were full and heavy against her chest as she breathed deeply, waiting for Sharon.

The rabbit vibrator Sharon comes into the room with is black. It’s not overly long, but the girth makes up for it. Alaska knows Sharon will have to stretch her, start with two fingers just so Alaska can feel the burn then stuff her with three.

“Mommy please…” Alaska draws it out, flutters her eyelashes.

She’s pouty and wet and Sharon kneels beside her on the bed, pulls one of Alaska’s legs up and out to spread her open.

“So wet already baby? Greedy girl.” Alaska screws her eyes shut at the words. “Open your eyes for me sweetheart. Watch mama.”

Sharon slips two fingers inside of the younger girl and Alaska cries, twisting her hips. Her fingers are thick and strong and they fuck Alaska almost mechanically, avoiding her g-spot but scissoring to stretch her open. It burns slightly and Alaska gasps, heat curling in her stomach. She can hear Sharon’s fingers moving in and out of her, can hear when a third one enters. Alaska tries to clench her thighs together but with Sharon between them she’s stuck spread open. She wants to move and squirm, clamp around Sharon’s hand, but Sharon’s got her hip pinned down and is kneeling above Alaska with so much dominance she’s stuck in position with nowhere else to go.

When Alaska’s stretched and dripping, Sharon presses the vibrator inside until it’s snug against both her g-spot and clit. Alaska’s whining high and nasally. Her eyes are dark and her fingers are tugging at the sheets and she’s watching Sharon desperately. It clicks on and she gasps and cries, her hip twitching at the sudden stimulation.

“I should buy you another one of these. A small one that slips into your panties.” Alaska whines and moves her thumb to her mouth, partly to have something to bite and partly to have something to stifle her pathetic cries. “Could turn it on while you’re out picking up dry cleaning. Or while you’re out with mommy’s credit card. Bet you’d love how everyone would watch you as you whined, unable to stop it.”

Alaska gasped as Sharon started moving the vibrator, slowly pressing it in and out of her slightly. It pressed so tightly against where she was the most sensitive and she cried out, thrusting her hips up into the pressure. Heat was curling in her stomach and she could feel her peak building. Her breasts were shaking above her in time with her panting.

“It’s pathetic, really,” Sharon stopped the vibrator, leaving it still and full in Alaska, “how desperate you are for me. Texting me while I’m out, expecting me to drop everything and come get you off like the greedy little slut you are.”

The twitch of Alaska’s thigh and how her eyes almost roll back remind Sharon of just how much she loves it. Being humiliated like that. She loves when Sharon makes fun of how wet she is, how open and soft she is and how she fucks herself on Sharon’s single finger wanting more, how turned on she gets when Sharon buys her expensive lingerie only to rip it off of her later because money isn’t an issue.

She wonders if Alaska could get off on it alone. Just Sharon’s fingers pinching her nipples, fingering her slowly and avoiding the areas she needed the attention so badly. Sharon would comment on how swollen she was, how it was cute that she thrust up and squirmed as if Sharon was actually going to give her what she wanted. She’d bite on Alaska’s nipple, laughing as she flicked the sensitive bud while leaning over the younger girl, still fully clothed. Sharon thinks she could do it. She’d cum untouched and almost instantly recoil, heat exploding in her lower stomach and her cheeks flushing. Sharon would laugh and watch Alaska’s cunt clench and shake before pressing a kiss to her pubic mound.

But for now Alaska was spread and shaking in front of her, thrusting to try and get the toy to touch her and push her over the edge.

“No, no, no, no mama please. That’s not fair.” Alaska’s voice is whiny and pouty, drawing every syllable out, and Sharon can hear her puffing out air through her nose. Tears gather in the corner of Alaska’s eyes.

“Nothing’s ever fair, baby. And you’re gonna take what I give so maybe I’ll let you cum.” Sharon gives Alaska’s thigh a pat once she’s come down from the edge, then turns the vibrator on low.

This time around Alaska yells out brokenly, hips chasing the feeling so hard Sharon has to pin her down with both hands. Her eyes are screwed shut and Sharon can see where tears start leaking from them. Alaska’s mumbling something incoherent and thrashing her head back and forth, digging her fingertips into the pillow under her head. The cycle repeats itself a few more times, bringing Alaska up to the edge and then ripping it from her. She’s become unable to form any words other than please, no, and mommy and it’s like some sick power move on Sharon’s part. How Alaska’s whole world right now revolves around Sharon, and whether or not Sharon’s going to let her cum.

When Sharon turns the vibrator up instead of off and presses it tight up against Alaska, the younger girl cries and pushes off the bed, thighs trying to close around the toy. Her whines are high pitched and she’s gasping. The wet sounds her pussy is making is obscene and Sharon watches her twitch and clench, all wet and shiny.

Sharon pets Alaska’s hair as she comes down, slips the toy out of her and puts it on the nightstand. She kisses around Alaska’s face and tells her she’s beautiful, that she did so good, mommy’s so proud. The bed dips when she leaves for only a second. She gets a glass of water and a cloth to wipe Alaska off, and grabs her sketchbook from where it sits in her purse. She fingers herself hard as Alaska comes back to her senses and licks around her nipple, trailing her airy hands across Sharon’s body.

Softly, Sharon kisses Alaska’s forehead when she’s sure she’s asleep, and pulls out her sketchbook.

[sambart93]

2017.10.24 Show By Rock (Cross Ambivalence) Review!

I literally had to get this out asap! I stayed up to write this damn thing! xD I saw the very first one when it came out (review here); but I’m not sure we should include it in this new cast/series xD

Official Site here Official Twitter here Press Coverage 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 Video Coverage 1, 2, 3, 4

CAST and CHARACTERS

Shingancrimsonz: Yonehara Kousuke as Crow Teruma as Aion Torigoe Yuuki as Yaiba Naoya Goumoto (Takigawa Eiji) as Rom

Trichronika: Kamakari Kenta as Shuuzo Yutaro as Riku Kihara Rui as Kai

Arcareafact: Itokawa Yojiro as Titan Tanaka Ryosei as Orion Itagaki Rihito as Selen Takikawa Koudai as Argon

Ninjinriot: Tsuji Ryo as Arashi Isaka Ikumi as Oboro Takahashi Kensuke as Rin Akazawa Ryotaro as Kamui

Judas JR: Kubo Yukito, Matsumoto Kento, Abe Daichi, Masumoto Kenichi

Other: KIMERU as Adam Yoshioka Yu as Eve Toba Jun as Jii Kon Takuya as Maple Arisugawa

NON-SPOILER REVIEW

Overall: That was so much fun!! It might as well have been a real live! Lots of audience participation, lots of singing, wooing, dancing along etc. It was so. much. fun! I even cried! I cried at one point because it was sad. And I cried another time just because it was so much fun, I didn’t want it to end! It was so good! For me, the MVP was either Yojiro and/or Kensuke xD I’m happy they did a story from the anime. They’ve left it open enough to continue too! I hope we get another stage AND another live! Also I want a CD asap! Rating: 8.5-9/10

Seriously all the stages I’ve seen lately have been amazing! YumeStage, EnStage, (spoiler alert >) Honoo no Mirage, Captain Tsubasa, UtaPuri, now this!!

STORY

The story is about another battle of the bands but, we have the ex-members of Amatelast who are trying to get the band back together and plotting ways of breaking Rom and Shuuzo up from their current bands; with Rom and Shuuzo’s past coming up and both of their groups think they’re going to leave them. We also have a band coming from the future to warn them that everything is bad.

SPOILER REVIEW

Where to start?!??!!? xD

SCENES/COMMENTS

The opening straight away was hilarious because after Trichronika performed, Kai gave Shuuzo some water but Shuuzo/KenKen coughed on his water hard, couldn’t get his line out, and everyone was dying of laughter so he ‘started over’ and take a sip of water again xD Rui’s faced cracked hard when it happened.

There’s a scene where Crow looks and acts trashed out of his head drunk; but he’s just milk-drunk xD it’s so adorable and cute! 

There’s a scene with Crow on a bike (he’s doing his part time job), and he ends up banging into Adam twice, and the second time even YoneChan cracked up and laughed his line out.

I was lucky enough to be right next to the break between the front seating area and the back seating area. I got so many good views and closeness from people <3 I was super happy that Naoya and KenKen came in from my side and they were like BAM right there! Also, there’s a scene where KenKen gets carried by Judas Jrs across this aisle area and because I was right next to the exit door for him, he was so slow leaving my eye line <3 and he waved to all of us as he went past too! In fact almost ALL of them walked past at one point because they wall came out in a line when they time traveled back to when Amatelast (Shuuzo, Rom, Adam and Eve) were together. And Akazawa walked so slowly in that outfit of his that he took ages to walk past me xD

Another golden moment thanks to me seat was Teruma headbanging almost AGAINST the girl in front of me - his hair was ALL in her face; she was dying of laughter as was I xD She was super duper happy after he left though - NOT because he left, but she got such direct fanservice. And Torigoe was across from me, leaning over the front area bar to give some girls fanservice too.

There’s a scene where Shingan are in a bar finding out about the Battle of the Bands tournament, but while Rom and Crow are trying to get sense of their manager, Yaiba/Torigoe was pretending to be a cat and was following Teruma’s tail around and Teruma was purposely playing with his tail and putting it in Torigoe’s face. Then Crow ends up with a flower and he uses it on both Teruma and Torigoe who became cats xD I’m pretty sure this is a higawari. Which Naoya/Rom could always perfect stop with his mighty fists and punches xD

OH! One major thing I love about this stage is that EVERYONE’S mics are on so if (for example) 8 characters are on stage, you can hear everything; also they’re pretty much able to play around and do stuff and interact stupidly if it’s not their line or if they’re not a major point to the scene so we saw a lot of hilarious things going on; both planned and unplanned.

Speaking of Rom’s fists! When he punches the teddy version of Manager Maple and then a mini teddy of him  drops from the sky xD so funny!

But also speaking of fists and punches; Crow and Rom’s showdown fight broke my heart and it was during such a sad song sung by Teruma, Torigoe and Kimeru too! BUT it was impressive seeing YoneChan have such energy to keep falling almost every time Naoya ‘hit’ him. It was very well choreographed.

Related to Teruma! There’s a part of a song where he has to do screamo and oh my! Teruma’s screamo!!! It was good! His singing is always great but I didn’t know he could do screamo singing too!

OH! And those damn Shingen aprons are back! I was great seeing those again! And when Torigoe and Teruma’s part time ob involved cleaning the Judas Studio and they had to pretend to not be Yaiba and Aion so they could overheard Arcareafact’s conversation. Aion cleaned the floor in front of Argon as if he was playing Curling. And Torigoe put on an old woman’s voice and potted around. At one point Teruma always span around wipping the broom around too which was very funny.

Another funny part is when Kimeru finds Riku late at night but accidentally scares him by shouting, and so Riku runs of stage screaming, BUT Riku’s screaming also caused Kimeru to panic and scream too in return and he sort of ducked where he was. Then Kimeru went backstage to grab a weeping Riku and pulled him back on stage xD

I really love when the Manager actor sings too! There’s two great parrts! The first is when he sings on stage and slowly the rest of Shingan join in except Rom who’s just like ‘wtf are you all doing?’ but eventually Crow drags him to join in xD the other time is when he’s talking to Shuuzo in the aisle and he sings all his lines and also walks off singing. Shuuzo ends the scene by going ‘it seems like someone’s listening to us (meaning the audience xD)’.

I cried so easily and so hard when Shuuzo got to the hospital and was like (to Riku - who had gotten himself into a car accident because he was so miserable and upset about Shuuzo possibly leaving them) ‘YOU IDIOT! I WAS SO WORRIED!’ And then he hugged Riku and Kai like ‘I’ll never leave you two’. Shortly after this moment, we also have Kimeru breaking down which also broke my heart, especially because the scene fades to black with Kimeru just scream-crying his heart out =[ To then have the bands start performing straight after... it took me a good song to calm down and get back to enjoying it. But then I fully enjoyed it! SO MUCH FUN!

You can tell those that have Live/Band experience because they went ALL out and you can hear it in their voices by how well trained their vocals are and how amazing their range it and how they can blast out a song and not get tired: YoneChan, KenKen, Kimeru. Their love of performing just oozes out from them and very obvious to see.

I NEED a second live so I can do and support them!! They were all amazing! All the songs are great!!

I need another LIVE, another STAGE, AND I want a CD released please!!

ACTING

I won’t mention everyone, sorry(!)

Yonehara Kousuke as Crow: YONE IS THE PERFECT CROW! Need I say an more? He has so much DAMN energy and he’s just loud and crazy and does stupid things but also cares so much for his friends; he is EXACTLY as Crow should be. And that tummy, am-I-right?!

Naoya Goumoto (Takigawa Eiji) as Rom: While what happened to Eiji is terrible and unfortunate, I was so happy when Naoya got announced as his replacement. And he did not disappoint; he was enough Naoya as he was Rom <3 Rom is a character both he and Eiji suit very well. And we got to see Naoya WITHOUT a shirt! Like waaah! And he’s well toned too! I was goooogling a lot xD 

I assume it’s a higawari but there’s one part when Rom is a salaryman and begging his boss for money and the boss says if he wants the money then he should do a Monomane/Impersonation. A girl in the audience told him to be a bicycle and YoneChan (who was on stage with Kimeru, looking on at Naoya and the boss) pointed to the bicycle on stage like ‘there’s one here!’ . But Naoya did the bicycle and used his tail to make it look like a seat but as he left the room as a bicycle, he blurted out ‘ISN’T THIS THE WRONG SHOW?! (referring to YowaMushi Pedal xD)’. It was hilarious.

Kamakari Kenta as Shuuzo: I love how KenKen just OWNS his mistkes in a way that he pretends they didn’t happen while everyone else is dying of laughter. Before the after event live started, he came on stage and fucked up his own bands name AND the name of the music tournament and he just ignored the fact he made the mistakes, smiled to the audience and continued his lines xD

By the way, Mitsuya Ryo (who played Shuuzo previously) was there tonight; KenKen did sing directly at someone in the audience at once point, so could’ve been him. I have so much respect for Mitsuya; he went to a musical where he was replaced and it’s clearly obvious KenKen is doing the FAR superior performance, yet he is all buddy buddy and smiles with KenKen and it looks genuine. If it had been me, I wouldn’t be going anywhere NEAR stages I get replaced in.

AND I’M SO HAPPY WE GOT TO SEE HIM AS DARK SHUUZO!! I love dark Shuuzo and his outfit was so pretty and sparkly!! *dead*

Yutaro as Riku: His singing has gotten a tad better than Hatsukoi Monster, but he definitely should not be cast in musicals. He’s able to act so he can stay in the stage world but he shouldn’t force his voice vocally so muhc xD BUThe character was so cute and adorable! He was the cutest whenhe was in hospital and had these white pjs on <3 And he was totally cute in the AfterEvent; he was the last one to put his instrument back, and KenKen and Rui waited so patiently for him. When he turned around and saw they were already waiting, he was a little flustered and hurried down to them; so cute! His character in this is very similar to his character in Hatsukoi Monster (review here).

Kihara Rui as Kai: It’s SO weird seeing him so adorable and cute and smiley! The gap between his true self (which I’ve heard is somewhat very straight faced and -__-) and this character is amazing. Also seeing him in Give Up Dance and then in this and seeing the drastic difference even between those characters is amazing! He’s definitely a talented actor and could go a long way. It was totally adorable when Teruma and Torigoe stole his drumsticks xD OH also he does this cool/kakkoi line during his solo song which was so cool yet also laughable xD

Itokawa Yojiro as Titan: Is there anything this mother fucker can’t do? I mentioned in my non-spoiler that he and/or Kensuke are the MVP of this stage for me. His voice is AMAZING! I didn’t expect him to sing SO WELL! But I should’ve because it seems to be part of the Bancho Boys requirements that they can sing (seriously, they can ALL sing from what I’ve heard so far). His voice was so great! He’s definitely his strongest when he’s NOT doing super high notes but still he was soooo good! I want everyone to hear his pretty voice! I’m trying NOT to be his fan because he already has a loyal and big-ish following but damn... he’s a great actor, he’s in a crap ton of popular shows, he can sing, he’s cute, we practically have the same birth, I enjoy everything he does... ugh... someone stop me from falling indeep with yet another actor. Also, his pants looked really good on him.

I really hope the next stage is Arcareafact’s backstory because Titan has a sad but interesting back story that I want to see on stage. Especially if it’s Yojiro! Goddammit boi.

Tsuji Ryo as Arashi: He looked freaking adorable! He was soooo cute!

Isaka Ikumi as Oboro: He looked SUCH cool and interesting. Visually he looked great; I want to see his (and the rest of Ninjinriot) developed more in future!

Takahashi Kensuke as Rin: OMG Kensuke, you know no chill. He was absolutely fabulous in this stage! Surprisingly his boobs become the least interesting part about him very quickly. How he can walk in those heels, constantly up and damn the stairs, with the massive height he already has is IMPRESSIVE. And his skirt was so DAMN short that my eyes were like o_O whenever he was on stage or near me (which he walked past me once and I got a good eyefull of his chest and how flawless his skin is around his arms and back - lucky bugger). With the heels and the skirt, his thighs looked amazing! And then his mannerisms were so feminine and fitted the character so perfectly and he kept in character SO FREAKING WELL! He was so pretty and so beautiful <3 how he suited this character so well is CRAZY! But I just wish he had more lines, more stage time, and actually sang - he didn’t sing at all, just ‘played’ his guitar xD I hope we get to see more of him in future stages/lives.

Akazawa Ryotaro as Kamui: He was so adorable too! But he walked so clunkingly and so slowly in his outfit xD

Judas JR: Were ALL adorable!!

KIMERU as Adam: It’s obvious I’m going to say he was wonderful and perfection in this! Kimeru always is. He KNOWS how to literally put on a show and be entertaining. Kimeru is always fabulous and always the life of the party and you can tell he LOVES performing and singing! 

After Event

KenKen is amazing at being awkward but also just brushing it off and being normal xD << I already mentioned this moment above.

The special Trikronika live was so much fun! Especially when KenKen couldn’t even say their name properly and Riku and Kai corrected him about three times but pretend he never said it nor that he didn’t hear them xD

The live was A LOT of fun! They sang INSIDE -- when he said that, even lost their shit for some reason -- tis a good song though.

*

GOODS

I, and so many other fans, appreciate it so much that they decided to sell Eiji’s stuff too!

*

And there we have it! I had to get this one out ASAP because I enjoyed it so much!

[webgottmilk]

~ Heard It Through the Grapevine ~

This fic is a gift for the lovely and patient @ciarlapanics; the fic rec is coming, I promise! In the meantime, enjoy some Bradray feels, since I’m a sucker, and you can never have too many in our little fandom. Enjoy <3

Summary: This is not quite how Ray imagined he’d become Internet famous.

Rating: E

Word Count: 5,237

This is not the way that Ray wanted to become Internet famous - in his mind, rock stardom comes from carefully crafted albums and hours spent in recording booths. Of course his fame is the wretched lovechild of his overactive imagination and (admittedly) poor planning skills.

And yes, perhaps literally jumping into Brad Colbert’s arms upon his arrival back to the States wasn’t the sanest of ideas, but even that he can let his best friend chalk up to his rather poor upbringing. (“If you had any less brain cells Ray, you’d be a drooling vegetable. In fact, the drooling part isn’t far off”). To be fair however, flying directly to Nevada,Missouri after finishing up serving with the Royal Marine Commandos - fucking English frogs in his mind - is no small feat to Ray, and deserves at least a small gesture of gay love on his part.

Ok, yes, Ray may have regretted the action as soon as he tackled Brad since holy shit the fucking Viking can hold on to a lot of weight and god damn those arms. But properly non heterosexual thoughts aside, it’s not really an intelligent idea to display affection in public for any Marine, lest civilians catch on to the idea that they’re actually human beings too! At least, Ray chooses to believe that that’s Brad’s reasoning for his usually reserved nature upon being body slammed at the Joplin Municipal Airport.

Surprisingly, Brad plays along with the reunion, twirling Ray around like some sparkly gay ass princess from Disney’s latest money making gambit, and laughs quietly into his ear.

“I knew you loved me, Iceman!”, Ray crows back - give him an inch and he’ll take a mile…

Brad is obviously thinking along those lines, dropping him faster than Encino Man called danger close strikes on his own men back in Iraq.

“I would question your actions, Ray”, he says, stepping back and lazily drawling, “but I know that there’s barely room for a thought that’s not involving incest or NASCAR in that fucked up head of yours.”

Ray tilts his head upwards to peer at Brad - who is still standing close enough that he can smell the sweat and dirt on his fatigues - and winks lecherously.

“I just couldn’t wait to get my hands back on those Viking arms of yours, homes. They’re irresistible”, Ray draws the last word out in an overexaggerated attempt to mimic Walt’s slow country accent. He blows the bemused Brad a kiss before striking off towards the baggage claim. Brad follows closely, always watching his six, as he crosses the terminal and heads towards carousel four.

“Eat any English sausages?”, Ray asks innocently as they idle side by side, waiting for Brad’s single camo coloured duffle to appear on the conveyor belt.

Brad only snorts, shoving Ray hard enough that he has to struggle the slightest amount to regain his balance, and dignity.

“Civilian life has made you soft, Ray. You’re a goddamn disgrace to every Marine in Nevada”, Brad shoots back, clearly not missing the shorter man’s attempt at recovery. “Don’t worry, you can join me on my six mile run tomorrow, early bird catches the worm, or the sausage, I suppose.” Brad laughs openly at his distress, then nudges Ray again suggestively.

“Homes, if I needed birds to help me find sausage, I would have checked myself into a hospice long before your giant white ass landed back on US soil.” He is obviously teasing, so Brad obliges with a soft huff, then quickly steps forward to grab his bag off the belt.

“Let’s go home, Ray. You clearly need a nap and a bottle before your infantile brain is able to comprehend even the simplest of metaphorical phrases”. With that, Brad marches in the direction of the Parking Area signs, Ray trailing behind him.

The ride home, in Ray’s ancient pickup truck (“Ray, this piece of junk is going to fall apart right out from under us, before I’ve had a chance to consume one of your shitty Coors Lights”.) (“Oh Bradley, you know I bought gay microbrew just for you - no Coors Light for your delicate sensibility”.) is non eventful, even with the occasional jibe about Ray’s Elvis sunglasses - “we pimpin, homes,” he recites with a wry smile, as they coast along the highway, still going a good ten miles over the speed limit.

The night is spent drinking too many shitty beers, and consuming too much shitty media. (“Ray, no matter what you say, Inception is a B+ movie with poor editing and no plot”) and (“Bradley Colbert, your mother raised you better than to insult the good name of Christopher Nolan, shame on you!). Brad passes out on the couch around two am, clearly succumbing to the exhaustion of a day spent airplane hopping. Ray covers him with a blanket, heroically ignoring the strip of pale skin that his ridden up fatigues expose. He gulps, making a mental note to stay far, FAR away from the thought.

Ray sleeps fitfully, mostly because, “goddammit Brad, pineapple on pizza is not only the gayest thing you have ever suggested to me, but also the most disgusting, which coming from me, should shame you.” Pineapple and Coors Light do not a friendly bedfellow make, so he spends his hours gravitating between the kitchen, where he can just make out the fine blonde hairs of Brad’s head, and his cold, messy bed. Ray knows how pathetic it is to stare longingly over the counter at your best friend, so he actively avoids the kitchen and living room after a couple of passes.  

Around six, he checks his Twitter, since if it’s good enough for Donald Trump, it’s good enough for him. (At least that’s how he defended his usage when Brad raised a judgmental eyebrow at him between scenes of The Usual Suspects.) He smothers his laughter when he sees the number one trending tag, because “planking” is literally the dumbest fad since swallowing goldfish. He passes the “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal” tag with much less amusement, but makes a mental note to read up on it at a slightly later date. However, it’s trending tag number three that stops him half way through a drink of water; the sheer absurdity of the tag “Marinesinlove” is so substantial that he isn’t sure whether to laugh, or hide his face in his grubby pillow. Marines, displaying emotions? That’s the most retarded fucking thing he’s seen in the last twelve hours, and Brad Colbert’s lustful gaze at a pineapple covered pizza was one of them.

In the end, curiosity kills the cat (fuck you Brad, he can understand simple metaphors, or whatever), so Ray bites the bullet and clicks the tag. And nearly drenches his lap in ice cold fridge water. The first image to appear is a gif of Brad twirling him, HIM, around in a circle, with the tag, “Marine boyfriends in love”, and the addition of three heart eye emojis. The post has over six hundred retweets, with comments such as the disgusting “awwww”, and “this is what true love looks like”, though with a suspicious lack of grammar so common to Twitter.

Numb, Ray continues scrolling - it doesn’t just stop at the gif. There are multiple picture sets of Brad staring into Ray’s eyes - hold on, he swears that they weren’t standing THAT close at the airport - and gif upon gif of him rolling his eyes at Ray’s ridiculous antics. But what Ray can’t help but continuously notice is the overwhelming amount of grammatically incorrect tweets praising the “anonymous” Marines for their candid display of affection. They extol their bravery in openly revealing a “passionate and sweet love” (if Ray rolls his eyes anymore, he’s sure he’s going to contract brain damage, which according to Brad, he can’t really afford to contract).

Seriously, it’s just two guys really excited to see each other, after months and oceans apart - at least that’s what Ray tells himself over and over. Shit. Motherfucking son of a bitch, what is he going to say to Brad? “Hey Brad, I know you just got home from dealing with horrible beer and worse accents for months, but the entire Internet thinks that we’re in love, so I don’t think it’s a good idea if you go outside just yet.”

Oh god, he’s dead. He is so, so, unbelievably dead.

Since the gods are cruel, and just when Ray’s life has taken a u-turn towards ‘your best friend / one who you harbor secret feelings of not so friendship for is about to kill you’, the very object of his thoughts appears in the doorway, strangely lacking any coverage in the torso area. Fuck Ray’s life.

“You’re up!” Brad says, fake joviality clearly meant to annoy Ray, “which means that you can join me for my hard core Marine six mile run, unless of course, your pussy civilian lifestyle has coddled you into comfort and diabetes already.”

Ray blinks at him, still trying to look past the obvious tan lines that mar Brad’s pale skin, and perhaps stop eyeing the toned planes of his stomach quite so obviously.

“Ray…?” Brad’s voice cuts through his thoughts, sending his nerves tumbling around his stomach. “Is your whiskey tango head so fucked up that you can’t even form a coherent thought before seven am? This is a truly desolate day, my friend, truly sad.” Brad is clearly trying to cheer him up through the usual jabs at his upbringing and civilian status, but it’s not really doing anything to ease his thoughts. Mostly because Brad is standing there SHIRTLESS, which is a goddamn distraction in itself.

Finally, he regains his voice: “Seriously homes? It’s day one, and you can’t even let your Ray-Ray have a little bit of a lie in? Come give me a morning kiss and we’ll go from there”. He musters up all the bravado he can, and throws his arms out, head tilted upwards,  lips pursing in supposed anticipation.

Instead of replying, Brad huffs and shoves Ray back onto the bed, sprawling himself across the other half, with his hand absently lying on Ray’s chest.

“Ray, if I knew you pussied out so easily, I would have woken you up at four, just to have the satisfaction of seeing you struggle to tie your shoes at ass o’clock in the morning. As it is, this bed is marginally more comfortable than the abominable piece of furniture you call a couch, so I am going back to sleep. But when I wake up, you best be ready to run, or I will throw you out the door naked and laugh as you struggle to walk up a hill without developing blisters on your delicate civi feet.” Brad says all of this whilst staring at Ray’s collar bone, the only thing in his line of sight. Ray is still actively staring at the ceiling, forcing himself not to imagine waking up to a half naked Brad Colbert in his bed everyday. With this speech over, Brad steals the pillow out from underneath Ray’s head, effectively trapping him, with one arm wrapped up in the two now resting under his pillow. He closes his eyes, and is almost immediately asleep.

Fuck his life. Really, fuck his life.

                                                <GK>

When Ray manages to extract himself from the BradRay pile that had been forced on him, his first thought is COFFEE. Everything in the world, his mother taught him, can be solved by a cup of black coffee. She always joked that the blacker the soul, the blacker the coffee, though Ray was never sure how much of it was jest, considering there was never any cream or sugar in sight the few times his absent father appeared.

Shaking his head, Ray bullies his French press (“When did you get married, Ray? The only place you can find those metal fuckers are at fucking Crate + Barrel during wedding season.”) (“Of course I’ll marry you, Brad! How could I refuse, with a proposal like that?”) into spouting the foulest, blackest coffee it can muster.

Game plan, he needs a game plan. Ideally, one which ends with Brad and him managing to have an adult conversation about their feelings and all that bullshit. He snorts coffee all over the counter, and down the front of his shirt at the thought. The very idea is both colossally retarded and completely unrealistic. While this thought marinates in his head, Ray hunts for another shirt. Blindly, he reaches for one hanging off of the end of the couch, and, throwing the coffee defiled one on the carpeted floor, pulls the other over his head. Feeling refreshed, Ray walks back across the living room into the kitchen, where he pours himself a third cup of caffeinated murder water.

Ok, so then, how? Perhaps it’s just better to show Brad - he is a visual kind of motherfucker. And, demonstrating that the entirety of Twitter believes he and Ray to be in some kind of idealistic gay love seems like the best way to pound the idea into his neanderthal thick skull. Maybe it’ll even dissuade Brad from clobbering Ray long enough for him to make for higher ground. Apologizing has never been one of Ray’s tactics - he is unapologetic in all that he says and does, a perfect Marine trait - so he doesn’t believe that it will get him anywhere. Resigned, he pours himself another cup of fortification, and hunkers down on a stool to wait out the impending storm.

Blessedly, he doesn’t have to suffer with his own damning thoughts for too long; a shirtless and sleepy Viking clambers from his bedroom about ten minutes later. By now, Ray is starting to feel the effects of his fifth cup of coffee - it’s not unlike the familiar buzz of Ripped Fuel.

“How do you feel about free trade coffee, Brad? In the opinion of this ex-Marine, I think it’s complete bullshit. Like seriously, Starbucks? All of your beans are “ethically sourced”, he makes finger quotes here, “yet your customers throw away more than four million cups every year? And your, ‘one tree for every bag of coffee sales pitch’? Utter shit - if you could even plant trees at that rate, we’d call you fucking Captain Planet and put you in a Marvel comic book.” Ray’s knee won’t stop bouncing off the underneath of the counter and he really needs to get a grip RIGHT NOW.

“Good morning to you too, Ray, and Jesus, I thought you’d detoxed from the Ripped Fuel. The fact that you know specific figures on the waste that Starbucks produces just proves that you’re more of a frappuccino bloated prepubescent teenage girl than I feared. Nevertheless , a six mile run will quickly cure you of this pussiness. Look sharp.” Brad says this lot as he crosses the kitchen, pours himself a cup of steaming coffee, and leans across the counter to examine Ray for signs of Ripped Fuel ingestion. Ray stares back, noticing an almost imperceptible tightnesses that briefly overrules Brad’s expression. He has no idea what that’s about.

“Brad”, Ray begins, and winses, picking at the peeling paint on the side of the counter. He hates that he has to have this conversation, and even more, he hates how terrified he is to have this conversation. If it goes badly, he might very well lose Brad. “I really don’t think that the run is going to happen.” He quickly slips on an impish smile to cover his discomfort, and then adds, “you haven’t even tried my famous caffeinated bean water yet! It’s the best on the block! I swear to god, if you can’t take one day off, I’m FedExing you to Doc Brian for a psych eval, and don’t think I won’t make sure you fail it, even to give you one day of true R&R.”

Brad, who had been contemplatively sipping his coffee and staring into the living room, looks at Ray with an exasperated glance.

“Knew you’d pussy out; fine, I agree to forgo the run, IF, and only if I am allowed to force feed you more pineapple pizza before our run tomorrow morning.” His glance becomes an evil smirk, fully knowing that whether or not allowance is given, he’ll do it anyways.

And goddamnit if Ray wouldn’t willingly allow him to - he is so fucked. Instead of replying, he rolls his eyes and crosses to the living room, where he flops down on the couch. Brad joins him a minute later, coffee cup in one hand, and a plate of toast in another. He  silently offers Ray a slice, who happily crunches on it, spraying crumbs and spite everywhere.

“Ray, sometimes I wonder how you managed to survive Iraq without being slaughtered by Q-Tip and eaten as bacon. The way you eat, I’m honestly surprised no one mistook you for livestock.” Brad doesn’t even glance at Ray’s overly obnoxious chewing, instead choosing to flip the TV on, where CNN blares obnoxiously.

“Thank you, Jeff. And in other news, the Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal of 2010 has finally been fully implemented. President Obama will host a press conference to celebrate this historical event later this evening. It just so happens that we have a heartwarming clip taken at the Joplin Regional Airport yesterday  which I think really demonstrates just what this repeal means for many LBTQ+ servicemen.”

Ray’s stomach drops, but there’s not time to run before the clip is rolled.

The footage is clearly taken on an iPhone, and is slightly blurry, but not enough to obscure the obvious faces in front of him. In the clip, the short, dark haired man drops his backpack on the terminal floor and runs full tilt towards a tall, Viking looking man, jumping practically into his arms, and wrapping his legs around the taller man’s waist. The blonde man laughs quietly and smiles fondly down at the smaller man, but spins him in a circle anyways, Marine fatigues clear, even in the video.

Beside him, Brad goes absolutely still.

The news anchor is talking again, something about the heartwarming affection that can be seen, the obvious love between the two men. “I mean, just look at the way they look at each other,” interrupts a second news anchor, “it’s clear that they share a special bond.” The rest is drowned out by a rushing sound in Ray’s ears, who glances over to gauge Brad’s reaction, only to find him already looking at Ray.

“Brad, I…”, It’s not often that Ray Person is at a loss for words; not a comforting thought in this moment. Instead, Ray shakes his head, and bolts, leaving before he can fuck this up anymore.

“Ray! Ray! Goddamnit, you sister fucking idiot! Stop, Jesus fucking Christ!”, he can hear Brad yelling behind him, but does his best to ignore him; he certainly has practice at it.

Next time he glances at his surroundings, he’s driving ninety down the highway in his truck.

Eventually, he stops to check Google Maps, and realizes that he’s left his phone on the counter, probably in a puddle of black coffee. Miserably, he recalls that it’s probably the last time he’ll listen to Brad’s voice for a long time. He can’t even call him in a drunken haze to hear him rant, that is, if he picks up. The Iceman isn’t really one for words.

Ray finds himself at Walton Lake, where he used to swim as a kid - even when he’s not conscious, he ends up near landmarks that remind him of Brad. He laughs bitterly.

Since it’s only ten in the morning, he hunts around for a beer in the cab of his truck, and slouches down to the lake, laying underneath a tree. He figures that sleeping is his only hope of passing enough time to forget how colossally he has fucked up his life. He skips rocks for a while, and ends up watching the local kids push each other into the water. It only makes him feel worse. He suddenly recalls all the times Brad had given him that wry smile in the Humvee rolling through desolate wasteland after desolate wasteland. He was always checking in on him, “easy on the Ripped Fuel, Ray”, or an (almost) gently phrased “stay frosty, gents.” Ray drops his head between his legs; god, he is so fucked. He knows that he loves Brad, and that’s what terrifies him. It’s so much easier to throw insults back and forth, antagonize him with Avril Lavigne and Ripped Fuel Rants - he knows how Brad will react to those quirks. This… this is uncharted territory.

Finally, Ray decides that wallowing in self pity won’t accomplish anything further - going home to a Brad free house is going to hurt either way, might as well get it over with.

                                                     <GK>

He opens the door cautiously, not ready to be confronted with an empty house. He sucks in a breathe when his eyes are immediately drawn to the straight back figure sitting at the kitchen counter. Brad’s eyes meet his, and Ray is suddenly reminded that his demeanor isn’t the only reason they call him the Iceman. Quietly, he closes the door, and makes for his bedroom, hoping for as clean a confrontation as possible, but Brad is off his stool and pinning (?) him against the wall of his bedroom hall.

“No, Ray. We are going to talk about this. Like the semi-adults that the Corpse raised us to be. Do you think your disease ridden brain can handle a simple five minute conversation?” Brad says it calmly, ice laced in his voice, but the grip that he has around Ray’s wrists communicates something entirely different. He nods in response. Still, Brad makes not attempt to move them, only pinning Ray further into the wall.

“Did you know about the media coverage this morning? Is that why you refused to go on a run like a pussy bitch?” Clearly, the interrogation has begun.

Ray avoids Brad’s eyes as best he can: “What do you think, Bradley? That I was just going to drop that kind of bomb on you first thing in the morning? Oh, by the way, the Internet thinks that we’re in love, and it’s trending on Twitter and all the other god forsaken social medias that tween girls consume these days. I know you think you’re some sort of demolitions expert, but not even you’re qualified to diffuse that kind of ammunition, Brad. So fuck you, yes, I knew. And no, I didn’t say anything.”

Brad forces Ray’s chin up with one hand, while the other pins both of his wrists above his head. “Why?”, he asks simply, his eyes like chips of hard sapphire.

“Fuck you, Brad. You wanna know why? You dying to know that fucking badly? Because I knew that you finding out would ruin this,” - he jerks his chin to indicate the two of them. “But, if the Internet found out, then I guess it’s pretty fucking obvious”. Ray laughs again, a caustic sound.

“What’s obvious?”, Brad’s voice is almost a growl now, clearly beyond pissed off with Ray. “Ray?”

“That I’m fucking in love with you, that’s what.” Ray practically spits it in his face; he’s so tired of holding it in. Fuck it, if Brad wants him to ruin this with the truth, then so be it.

Brad steps back so suddenly that Ray is slammed against the wall, his head cracking painfully. He closes his eyes against the sensation, waiting for Brad to walk away, to walk out - it’s the only ending to this unfortunate series of events.

“You’re what?” The softness of Brad’s tone is the most startling aspect of the phrase to Ray - why hasn’t he walked away yet? “You’re what?”, Brad repeats, blinking almost owlishly as Ray finally looks at him.

“I’m in love with you”, Ray says flatly. What does Brad want out of this? To rub in the satisfaction that he’s managed to force his biggest secret out of him?

“Say it again”, Brad steps closer, effectively repinning Ray, who is frankly getting tired of his internal organs being punished over five treacherous words.

“I’m in love with you?” The end comes up in a question like inflection, seriously Brad, what is going on…?

Brad laughs out loud, probably the strangest turn of events in an already bizarre day; Ray is too exhausted to fight any longer, so he just rests his head against the wall.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to tell me”, Ray’s head snaps back up. “Seriously?”

It’s Brad’s turn to nod. “You jumped out of our Humvee screaming at Batista to back the fuck up, since apparently your mother gave you barely enough braincells to eat fucking toast, toast, Ray. That’s when I knew.” The confession is quiet, splitting the air, since Brad is only inches now from Ray’s face.

“You love me?”, the questions is hedged in hesitation, but goddamnit if Ray doesn’t want to hear it back.

The Iceman nods, but it’s all the confirmation that Ray needs. It would be easy, so easy, to bridge the gap. All Ray would have to do is lean in. Fuck it. So he does.

Brad reacts immediately, pinning both of Ray’s wrists against the wall with one massive hand, and cupping his face with the other. The kiss isn’t by any means gentle, nor is it coordinated. It’s wet, and messy, and (cliched as it might be) everything Ray imagined it would be. Ray stretches upwards to tug Brad’s lower lip into his mouth, and Brad lets out an imperceptible moan. He shoves at Ray’s t-shirt until he musters up enough coordination to lift it over his head.

“I couldn’t concentrate this morning, with you in my t-shirt”, Brad mutters against his neck. “I couldn’t stop thinking about how many ways I could think of getting it off you”. Ray groans and tilts his neck, giving Brad better access with which to suck marks along the column of his throat. When Brad scrapes his teeth along his Adam’s apple, he practically whimpers - self-respect has just hit an all time low.

Ray’s hands, which have found their way to Brad’s waist dip lower, and squeeze. He growls against Ray’s throat, and sets them on his shoulders. Ray uses the leverage to wrap his legs around Brad’s waist, laughing internally at the familiar position. “Bedroom?”, he mutters to Brad. The jerk of breathe that he takes from the query seems to be answer enough, as he bodily carries Ray to his bed, dumping him on it in the process. Brad shucks off his sweatpants and crawls up the bed, intent on getting Ray out of his jeans as quickly and (ideally) with as little finesse as possible, or so it seems to him.

As Brad curses up a small storm, fighting with the buttons like they’re grenades, Ray deftly unbuttons them, squirming indelicately out of them, and making Brad snort with laughter. Ray grins back at him, “if the early bird gets the worm, does that mean I get the sausage?”. The fond and bemused smile that Brad gives him is worth the blow to his pride that the joke costs him. Without warning, Ray flips them, positioning himself firmly between Brad’s thighs, and begins sucking at his clavicle.

He trails kisses trails down to one nipple, and scrapes his teeth across it, eliciting a moan from Brad. “Didn’t know you were a nipple man, Brad”, Ray jibes softly, choosing to divert his attention to the other aforementioned object.

“Shut up, Ray”, Brad’s words come out stilted, through clenched teeth, as he attempts to keep himself from making too much noise.

Ray merely hums, and continues his oratory exploration.

He finds that tonguing over Brad’s abs make them jump in succession, and that his belly button is surrounded by a delicate trail of white blonde hair that disappears into his navy boxers. (“Navy, Brad? What kind of Marine are you? You don’t want your nuts to be disguised in camo? It’s so sad, that I show more priority to them than you do!”)

Ray bites at Brad’s left hipbone, watching for the way his entire body jumps with pleasure at the pain. Before he can continue though, Brad has flipped them again, and beginning biting his way down Ray’s chest.

“Dude, whoa, Jesus, it’s going to look like I was attack by a wolf. Fuck Brad, fuck, fuck”, Ray can’t seem to make his mouth stop, watching Brad suck marks onto his abdomen and hip bones. He noses his way further down, pulling Ray’s boxers down with his teeth. Ray wants to make a snarky comment about the coordination that that must take, but is currently lacking the brain cells to even think, let alone speak.

It now appears Brad has pulled his boxers down far enough to bite at his inner thighs, making Ray’s cock jump, and littering his legs with messy bites. “Jesus Brad, are you some kind of fucking vampire? Fuck.” He starts to move lower, but Ray grabs his wrist before he can move. “Whoa there, Lone Ranger, we don’t have to do it all in one night, we can take it slow. Seriously. C’mere, Bradley. Come cuddle your Ray-Ray.”

“Ray, I swear you were dropped on the head as a child. No, I guarantee that if I asked your mother, she would tell me she purposely dropped you, thinking it might improve that face.” Brad seems slightly disgruntled at being interrupted from his task, but complies nonetheless. Effectively, he wraps his body around Ray’s in a pseudo cuddle position, crushing him. “Happy?”

Ray squirms and shoves until he’s pushed Brad onto his back, and is sprawled on Brad’s chest, chin propped up so he can look at him.

“We have all the time in the world, Brad. Seriously, we could not move for the next six days, and the world wouldn’t notice. Plus, who else is going to force feed me pineapple pizza?”

“Ray, if you eat anymore pizza, you’re going to gain ten pounds, develop diabetes, and then be rushed to the hospital for a coronary heart transplant. Now go to sleep, or I’ll knock you out myself.”

“You’d still hold my hand during the ambulance ride, though.” Ray Person, finally getting the guy, and the last word.

And, when the alarm clock blares at six the next morning, and Brad forces Ray to run five miles to make up for the loss of yesterday, they’ll both laugh and shove each other, and it will feel like nothing has changed. The after workout shower might now involve two bodies instead of one, but who would notice, except for them?

And, when an official invite to attend the Obama’s annual Easter Egg Hunt arrives in April, Ray will just laugh and claim that they’re Jewish and cannot attend (“bullshit Ray, we’re both atheists, stop using my parents as an excuse”), and Brad will call them exactly what they are, the poster children of DADT, big fucking stereotypes, and to many, big fucking heroes. And no, Ray is still not a rock star, but he is Internet famous, thanks to his hyper active brain, and a ten foot tall Jewish Viking. But you just heard it through the grapevine, didn’t you…?

[au-universes]

Soup Oprea Pt 3 (Soap Opera AU)

The band members all hooted and hollered out the windows making sure everyone around could see them. Dean opened up the sun roof and poked his head out, Sam was riffling through the mini fridge and popping open a bottle of champagne and pouring some for Ezri and himself. Ezri leaned in to Sam grabbing the side of his face and kissing his cheek. Jimmy and Steve were flipping through the radio stations until they heard *All I do is win by DJ KHALED.

“OOOOOOOOOH! All I do is win, win, win No matter what! Got money on my mind I can never get enough. And every time I step into the building everybody hands go up… And they stay there, And they stay there, and they stay there. Up down up down up!” They all shouted the song at the top of their lungs like it was their anthem. Dean was still hanging out the sunroof with Cas in front of him like Jack and Rose from Titanic. They made every minute in that limo count. They weren’t going to let this moment slip away. The limo pulled up to the club with a big crowd outside waiting to get in. They all stopped and stared waiting to see who would climb out. Everyone in the limo went silent, with excitement and nerves.

“Okay everyone. This is it,” Dean said breathing heavy.

“Wait!” Sam pulled Dean's hand away from the handle.

“What?”

“Let’s slow down. We should take this moment in. Who knows what’s going to happen. We need this moment to keep us grounded, to keep us humble. We need it for when we feel low, or when we feel like nothing is going right or fast enough.” The group looked at each other knowing he was right. “I love you guys, and no matter how big we get or if we fail, I’ll always love you guys.”

“But we’re not even playing tonight. How is this the beginning?” Dean said going to leave the limo.

“Look outside,” Ezri said pointing to the wall. The group looked out seeing a big poster with their faces on it. Cheesy inspirational soap opera music began to play. They stared out the window, gazing at the beauty in front of them.

“I think this calls for a group huddle,” Dean said pulling everyone close.

“We’ll meet you guys in there and give you a minute,” Jimmy said, grabbing Steve’s hand and scooting out the door.

“What are you talking about? You’re part of this too,” Cas said, pulling Steve back.

“No, Jimmy’s right. You guys need this moment,” Steve said getting out of Cas’ grip. “We’ll save you a seat.” Steve looked back at them with a big smile, knowing that this was just the beginning. The two walked up to the bouncer. He was tall and buff, much like the tall, buff man we ran into earlier. He stood there with his big arms crossed over his barreling chest. His black shirt was pressed tightly to his pecks, and the sleeves were cutting into his bicep. Steve looked at the little name tag and saw it read ‘Gacé’.

“Names?” Gacé said. Steve jolted and took a step behind Jimmy, who was puffing his own chest out trying to intimidate Gacé.

“I’m Jimmy Kirk, and this is Steve Proudfoot. We’re with ‘Supernatural Adrenaline’,” Jimmy said trying not to let the nervousness in his voice through. The bouncer looked them up and down and grabbed his clipboard flipping through the pages. Gacé occasionally kept glancing back to Steve as if he knew him, but couldn’t place him. Steve did the same. Jimmy caught onto the glances and wrapped his arm around Steve’s waist pulling him in close.

“Did you find us yet?” Jimmy said in a stern, overprotective voice. Gacé looked down at Jimmy, knowing damn well he could take him. He chuckled and put his hand on the red velvet rope.

“Yeah, yeah. I found your names. Have fun guys,” said Gacé. Jimmy pushed Steve past Gacé who was still staring at Steve, when finally a light bulb went off. “Wait? Steve? I knew you looked familiar! How have you been!?” Gacé pulled Steve back out shaking his hand. Steve looked back extremely confused before having his own light bulb moment.

             “No way! It’s been too long! I’ve been great! This is Jimmy by the way. Jimmy this is Gacé. We went to highschool together,” Steve explained.

            “Yeah. And don’t forget, we were on the best dance team in the world,” Gacé said as he playfully punched Steve on the arm and turned to look at Jimmy. “This guy can really bust a move. Hey. Everyone is inside. Make sure you say hi to them.” Steve looked confused again and then had another light bulb moment.

            “The whole gang is in there?” Steve’s eyes lit up. “I haven’t seen them in years. Will you be in later?”

            “Oh yeah. I’m just waiting for the other bouncer to show. He called saying he’d be a little late. Go in, I’ll come find you guys later.” Gacé patted Jimmy on the back as he walked past and went back to being a scary buffshell.

The camera follows the boys in, where they stop in the door way and the camera pans up to a big windowless space, lit with blue lights and different color laser lights dancing around the club. Beautiful people were lounging on over stuffed black leather sofas and chairs. Scantily clad waitresses were carrying trays of brightly colored drinks to the thirsty patrons. Aerialists were doing their tricks above the crowd, as lights flashed and music banged. Across the room, Paris, Ashley, and Matt were behind the bar making drinks, and doing what they do best, bossing people around.

“Hey guys! How’s it going?” Kara bounced up on a bar stool with Kaia closely behind her.

“Hey! You made it! You guys want the usual?” Ashley said already mixing a cocktail together. She shook the silver shaker right, then left, one handed then tossed it around her back to Paris who caught without looking. She did her magic, making the tumbler turn from silver to gold, then tossed it under her leg to Matt. He did a back flip over the tumbler and caught it while his back was to the ceiling, and continued doing handless backflips until he was at the end of the bar. He pulled out a couple glasses and poured the drinks like salt bae, and slid them down the bar where they stopped abruptly in front of Kaia and Kara.

“You guys still got it,” Kaia said picking up her drink and sipping.

“Alright. You guys ready?” Ashley asked polishing a glass with a towel.

“But Gacé isn’t here yet,” Matt said frantically looking around.

“Here I am! Travis just showed up for his shift. Let’s do this,” said Gacé. The six of them looked around at each other and nodded. Out of nowhere, six spot lights came down on them, the music changed to *Ain’t your mamma by Jlo. Paris, Ashley, Kara, and Kaia were all dressed in sparkly corsets and a choli top over their shoulders, and black pants. Matt and Gacé wore white button downs with a sequined black vest, and black pants. They broke out into an incredible dance. They were all in sync, not missing one step. They were like a fleet of dancing machines sent to earth to spread the beauty of dance to the world. And they did. They did flips and tricks, spins and leaps! They finished with a bang, literally. The dance floor was broken, fire was surrounding them. Smoke cleared to reveal the gang silhouetted by the fire. The only movement was the crowd standing to their feet, and cheering. They hooted and hollered until their voices were hoarse. The gang finally broke formation, smiling and waving at the crowd. Ashley took the mic and turned it on to make an announcement as the cleanup crew scrambled to fix the stage before the next act came on.

“How’s everyone doing tonight?!” The crowed went back to cheering, as they always do when the owners of the Cocktail Lounge perform. “That’s what I like to hear! Now settle down everyone, I have a couple things to say. As you can see, we are decorated for Arabian night. The amazing dancers at Rhythm Fusion Dance Company are here tonight to wow and amaze us with their tantalizing belly dance. So be sure to give them just as much applause as you gave us tonight. In a couple days, we will have a rising star on this stage, so don’t miss that. And as always, thank you for choosing The Cocktail Lounge for your night. Now everyone, enjoy your night, order drinks, and don’t forget to tip your waitress!” Ashley dropped the mic and the spot light went off. The crowd was silent for a moment before going back to its normal banging music and bustle.

Jimmy and Steve were sitting at a little circular table with three little black couches around it. Steve caught the rest of the band walking in and began to zealously wave his arms in the air.

“Hey guys, over here!” Steve shouted. He was standing at this point, pointing at the empty couches making sure they saw him in the sea of people.

“This place is really nice. Can you believe we actually get to play here?!” Dean said as giddy as a school boy on Christmas.

“I know. And it’s all thanks to this girl,” Sam said pulling Ezri down on a couch next to him and kissing her on the forehead. Ezri lit up.

“I told you. It was all my dad’s doing. I had nothing to do with this,” Ezri said. She picked up a drink menu and began to scan through it.

“No girl. You talked us up to someone who could get us here. So by that logic, you got us here. Drinks are on us tonight,” Cas said pulling out his credit card.

“Actually, all your drinks are on the house tonight. Talent always drinks for free,” Paris said pushing his hand back down toward his wallet. “My name is Paris, I’m the owner of The Cocktail Lounge.”

The band looked up at her as if she were an angel. No one knew what to say, they just gawked at her in awkward silence. Dean finally shook out if it and stood up.

“Thank you so much for letting us play. Your lounge is amazing, it’s always been a dream of ours to play here. We just can’t believe it’s finally happening,” Dean said shaking Paris’ hand.

“We’ll Ashley does a great job finding talent to perform here, and if you’re as good as she says you are then we’ll have a good night. Kara, our best waitress and other owner, is gonna take care of you. Enjoy your night,” said Paris as she walked away.

“So, what can I get you guys?” Kara said taking their orders.

Dean, Sam, Cas, Ezri, Jimmy, and Steve all danced and partied the night away. They had so many people come up to them and congratulate them on their success, and buying them shots and drinks. They were completely ready for the life ahead of them. They were singing to the songs playing and dancing like there was no tomorrow, when someone came up to their group handing only Sam a drink.

“Here hot stuff. Drink this before the next group comes on,” said the girl. Sam took the drink and before he could look the girl in the eye to say thank you, she was gone. He looked all over to see if he could try to pinpoint them, but was not successful. He shrugged and downed the drink, not thinking anything of it.

Steve and Jimmy were dancing alone in a corner, intertwined with each other, eyes locked and passions growing. “I need some water!” Steve shouted into Jimmy’s ear.

“Okay, be careful,” Jimmy said nibbling on Steve’s ear and smacking him on the butt as he walked away. Steve skipped a little with a big smile on his face.

“One water please,” Steve said jumping up on a bar stool. He could feel someone staring at him from the stool next to him. He glanced out of the corner of his eye to make sure. The two made eye contact and Steve quickly turned away.

“Steven?” The man asked in a thick southern drawl. “Steven Proudfoot? It’s me, Billy! Billy Ray Cyrus.” Steve turned back around at the familiar voice, his eyes lighting up meeting a second old friend for the night.

“No way! Oh my gosh! I can’t believe this. What has it been? 2, 3, maybe 4 years? How have you been?” Steve said giving Billy a hug.

“Oh, I’m better now that I ran into you. My heart has been so achy breaky after my man left. I’m writing a song about it. How about you come into the back room with me where it’s quiet and I’ll play it for you.” Billy was leaning in closer and closer, running his hand up and down Steve’s leg slowly getting closer and closer to his crotch. Steve was one too many drinks in to compute quickly, and just when he went to say something, Billy had pressed his lips to Steve’s. Just steps away was Jimmy, watching the whole time. Tears brimming in his eyes, he walked out into the street, freshly wet with rain.

Steve pushed Billy away from him and slapped him across the face. “No, Billy! I’m with Jimmy! I’m not jeopardizing what I have with him again, and not with you. Just stay away from me you horny hick!” Steve got up from the bar, grabbed a drink from a tray passing by, and threw it in Billy’s face. He ran away, back to the group he came with. “Hey, have you guys seen Jimmy? I can’t seem to find him.” Everyone looked at him thinking about the last place they saw him.

“I think I saw him run outside. He looked a little upset. Did you two have a fight?” Cas asked as Dean sucked on his neck. Steve’s eyes widened, his heart began to pound, and his stomach felt like it was going to fall out his butt. “Steve? You okay?” Cas pushed Dean off going to offer some support to his friend. Steve’s eyes filled with tears and he ran for the door. He had to find Jimmy so he could explain what happened, before it was too late. Just as the doors closed behind him he saw Jimmy in a tight embrace with Ashley. Steve backed up in disbelief, and ran home as the rain poured down.

Back inside the club, Dean, Sam, Ezri, and Cas all sat down confused over what had just happened. But before they could get to into it, the lights in the house went out. Smoke began to fill the stage, and the only sound you could hear, was a pair of Zils. Ting, ting, ting……. Ting, ting, ting. There was a drum roll and then a girl yipping. The crowd’s eyes were glued to the stage wondering what was going to happen. The stage lights flashed on, and on it were dancers dressed in beautiful costumes. The zils were being played by the front woman. She had vibrant red hair and piercing green eyes. Her makeup was on fleek just like her dance moves. The music picked up and the group danced furiously, making all the men, and some of the women, go crazy. They were incredible, everything was spot on, not a single thing out of place. They danced and danced making the patrons feel like they were in another land. Sam watched in awe, fixated on the one in the front. He couldn’t take his eyes of her, she was mesmerizing. Finally, the dancing stopped. The crowd hooted and hollered as the dancers took their bows. The front one went last, bending deep and coming back up to lock eyes with Sam.

Ashley came back up to the stage, a little later than usual to thank the performers, fixing her dress and looking slightly guilty. “How about another round of applause for Rhythm Fusion!” She waited for the applause to die down. “Thank you so much for being here tonight. You really do make our theme nights something special.” Ashley smiled at the dance group and got off the stage, heading back to the bar.

“Where did you sneak off to?” Kaia asked. She was cleaning glasses off the bar giving Ashley a knowing look.

“What do you mean? I was doing paper work in the office,” Ashley said avoiding Kaia’s eyes and wiping down the bar.

“I don’t think so,” Kaia chuckled. “Right when you went on the stage, I saw Paris go in there with Gacé and one of the guys that came with the band. The one with Steve I think,” Kaia gave her another knowing glance. “So? Where were you?”

Ashley put the rag back into the water bucket, took a deep breath, and looked back at Kaia.

“Okay, don’t judge me,” She took another deep breath. “The alley behind the bar.”

Kaia looked at Ashley with a long blank stare. “HAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA! Out of all the places you could have done that and you choose the alley?! Oh my gosh! Okay, okay. Hooooo.” Kaia was bent over with laughter out of breath.

“Hey, I told you not to judge me,” Ashley said laughing with Kaia and flicking the wet rag at her.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. That’s just the craziest thing I’ve ever heard,” Kaia picked up a tub of dishes and took it to the kitchen, laughing the whole way.

Out on the floor people were dancing, and talking, and drinking. The walls were shaking with the beat of the music, the ceiling was showering the crowd with confetti, the speakers were sending beats into the air. It was a magical experience, for some more so than others. Sam still couldn’t focus on anything other than that one amazing dancer. He scanned the crowed for her in hopes he would find her. Every time he thought he came close, the girl would turn around only to disappoint him.

“Hey. I’m gonna run to the bathroom. Watch my stuff,” said Ezri.

“Okay, sweetie,” said Sam. He watched as Ezri hurried off to the bathroom and then went back to his search.

“Hey, hot stuff. What did you think of the show?”

Sam turned around to see the dancer in front of him.

“It’s you. I can’t believe it. Oh my gosh, I can’t believe you’re even talking to me,” Sam said scratching the back of his head. The girl walked up to Sam, closing the gap between them.

“Well of course I would talk to you. You’re so hot,” she said. The girl put her hand around Sam’s waist sliding down to his rear. “I’m JJ by the way,” she said, giving him a firm squeeze. Sam felt so happy but guilty at the same time. He still knew he had an amazing girl that he didn’t ever want to hurt, but he couldn’t break whatever this spell was.

“I’m Sam. Were you the one who gave me that drink?” he asked, trying to back away.

“Yeah. Did you like it? It’s my own invention. Makes people fall in love,” JJ said, following Sam as he backed up. Sam found himself stumbling on a couch and plopping down. JJ started to climb on top of him, breathing lightly on his neck and then whispered in his ear something he couldn’t quite understand.

“Ahem.”

Sam looked over JJ’s shoulder to see Ezri, looking down on them in confusion and anger. “What is all this?”

“Oh. I am so sorry. I was dancing and I tripped. He was just on the unfortunate end of catching me,” JJ said. JJ got up, brushed herself off and hurried away. Ezri glared at JJ as she walked away, then looked back at Sam letting him know they were going to argue when they got home.

Back at the bar, the staff was falling behind.

“I need three Margaritas, two seven and sevens, six blue moons and a Cherry Pie!” Paris yelled out. “Where the hell is Matt!? He was supposed to be back from his break 10 minutes ago.”

“I’ll go look for him,” Ashley said just wanting to get away from the insanity. She looked everywhere with no luck. Just when she was about to give up she saw him coming in from the back door buttoning his shirt.

“Where have you be-“ Ashley stopped talking when she saw Jimmy following in only seconds later. “Oh, I see.”

“Shut up Ashley. You did the same thing!” Matt said raising his eyebrow. Ashley didn’t argue, and they went back to the bar in silence.

“There you are. It’s about damn time! Get the next drink order ready. I need to go find my other help. I swear, if I didn’t love you guys so much I would kick you all off the fucking payroll and run this place myself.” Paris said as she threw her hands in the air and disappeared around the corner. She leaned against the wall pulling out a cigarette and lighting it. She took a long drag and held it in for a minute before letting it out. The music went quiet for a minute as Ashley made a drink special announcement. During the silence Paris could hear some clattering in the mop cupboard. She flicked her cigarette and put her hand on the door knob. She opened the door slightly and peeked in to see Jimmy, with Kara and Kaia. Paris quickly shut the door and rushed back to the bar with her cigarette still in between her fingers.

The sun rose the next morning, clearing the fog from the streets and the dew off the grass. Jimmy was stumbling through the door of his apartment building and up the stairs. He made it to his door and pushed the key in. The door opened and he crashed in, knocking over a lamp and shattering the glass lamp shade.

“Really? That’s how you’re going to show up after what you did last night?” Steve was drinking his morning coffee looking out the big floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the city. Jimmy slumped onto the counter holding his face in his hands looking for the right words to say.

“Jimmy, what I did was a mistake, and you didn’t give me any time to explain. Billy came onto me. I was too drunk to think clearly enough to stop him right away, but the whole time I knew it was wrong. What you did to me was out of spite, and anger. I can’t believe you would do that to me. And with her!? Why her?” Steve turned back around hiding his tears. These words only made him feel worse, because he knew Steve only knew about the one, not the other five he had been with that night. He walked over to the fridge, and poured himself some water.

“Steve, I know what I did last night was wrong. And I know I should have talked to you first, but when I saw that it was him it just brought back all those old feelings from years ago. I couldn’t handle it, and that’s why I did what I did. It doesn’t excuse what I did but you need to know why I did it. And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Please tell me what I can do to make this up to you.” Jimmy placed his drink down and walked over to Steve. “Please, I’ll do anything.” Jimmy fell to his knees and hugged Steve’s legs. Steve looked down, tears streaming down his face. He knew Jimmy was sorry, but he couldn’t let him off that easy. Steve needed Jimmy to know that what he did hurt him.

“I just need to be left alone right now,” Steve said. Steve wiggled loose from Jimmy’s grasp, went back to their room and slammed the door. Jimmy stayed on his knees crying, knowing damn well he hurt the one person he loves most.

“Ezri! Will you listen to me? I don’t know that woman, and I don’t want her. I only want you!” Sam said trying to stop Ezri from packing her things.

“Oh yeah? Then why did I find you two together in the coat room? Explain that, asshole!” Ezri was frantically throwing clothes, shoes, and her other belongings into luggage.

“Ezri! It didn’t mean anything! I honestly don’t even know what you’re talking about! Ezri, stop! Please!” Sam grabbed her arms making her stop momentarily. “I love you. You know I wouldn’t do anything to hurt you. Please?” Ezri wiped the tears off her face trying to muster up something to say.

“Miss? Are you ready?” Tom, Saruman’s driver, poked his head into the room.

“Yes. I am.” Ezri grabbed her bags and stormed out the door. Sam chased after her trying to reason with her but ended up getting a door slammed in his face. He grabbed the door frame and slowly fell to the ground. Cas and Dean sat silently at the kitchen table, awkwardly staring at each other.

“Do you want anything, Sam?” Cas asked. Cas looked over at Dean who had about the same expression as Ezri did when she first caught JJ and Sam all over each other.

“I can’t believe you would do that man! She was a nice girl and you just disrespected her in the most awful way. I can’t even look at you right now,” Dean stood up so fast his chair fell back, and he stormed out of the apartment. Cas sat there for a few seconds before getting up to put the chair back. He turned around to his bedroom but before closing the door turned around and said, “You know I don’t agree with what you did, but I do know you were under the influence of something strong and dangerous. But that isn’t an excuse to do something stupid.” And that was that, Cas didn’t say another word. Sam sat there in a haze of emotion knowing that in that moment, he lost everything he had.

By: Professor Ashlex

[cumberlokitty]

Close your eyes - Chapter 9

Finally my lovelies, I decided to finish my Fanfiction “Close your eyes” :) There will be two more chapters until the finale in chapter 12. Please please enjoy chapter 9 and have fun reading :) 

IX.

 "Did you hear that Rakith? Battle! Me! Can you imagine me clumsy on a battleground?", doubting I looked at the bird flying next to me while I walked down the corridor back to my room.

The animal just cocked his head and eyed me suspiciously. Well at least it looked suspiciously to me.

"See, I can´t either..", I sighed and opened the door to my room when I suddenly spotted something lying on my bed.

It looked like a wooden box with ornaments carved into.

Carefully I sat down on my bed to examine it with Rakith watching my every move.

At first I couldn't find the clasp but after running my fingers over it fumbling for irregularities I was able to make it out.

"What on earth could that be and who put this here..", mumbling I opened it.

My heart stopped for a split second.

In the box was the most beautiful item I had ever seen in my entire life.

Covering my mouth with my hands I stared at it in shock.

The delicate golden ring was topped with an emerald green rose so sparkly I couldn´t believe my eyes. Gingerly I lifted it up and touched the thin material as if it was to fall apart any second. Never had I seen such beauty before.

As I looked closer, something seemed to move inside of the rose ornament like a tiny, pulsing shadow causing me to flinch. At the second look I realized that it was more like a fog circulating through the green rose seeming as if it wanted to get out of the shell it was kept in.

Instantly I knew who placed it there.

There was no doubt that it came from Loki.

But why a ring? Did it have the same meaning in Asgard as it had in Midgard?

Was that some sort of hidden proposal?

That couldn't be..

My heart started racing viciously.

And what exactly was that thing wafting around inside of it. Suddenly I realized that I still hadn't tried the piece of jewellery on. Something about it made me feel much more than uncomfortable, I was almost scared to touch it again.

Suddenly Rakith crowed loudly sitting at the windowsill looking down to the inner courtyard. I sprang up and bolted over to him almost knocking him out of the window. The warriors were already leaving!

"Damn", I hissed and jerked open my wardrobe. There was nothing that would really fit for battle but thin pants and a woolen, dark green tunic.

Sighing I slipped into the clothes. "Better than a ballgown, right Rakith?", I adressed the bird still staring out of the window. Just in case I would need it I also pinned the brooch to the inside of my tunic right over my heart gasping as the cold metal touched my skin.

I had to go, fast.

At the door I turned around again, the ring was still lying on my bed.

Again my heart started to pound intensely.

What if I take it with me? I should, it would be rude not to try it on at least.

Quickly I took it out of the box again und slipped it on my finger when suddenly my world started swaying as if I was on a ship in distress at sea.

"Oh dear...", I mumbled trying to steady myself by clinging to my bed.

My right hand seemed to get hotter and hotter, almost burn where I had put on the ring. Gasping I sank down on the carpet. My whole hand was covered in green mist sinking slowly into my skin floating through my veins. Suddenly it felt as if hot lava was pulsing through my entire body and I couldn't help but scream in hurt and despair. Rakith crowed loudly and took off. "Get...help...", I clenched my fists in pain. I didn't know how much I could bear it anymore when all of a sudden everything stopped, all the sounds were gone and every thought drawn from my brain. Through a greenish shadow I could see Thor and Victoria and the others riding in front of me discussing battle tactics. I blinked as hard as I could but the scenery wouldn't go away. "Are you okay?", Thor stopped his horse and turned around looking concerned. "No, no Thor! Help me please!", I shrieked but he didn't hear me. "Sure, I am fine..just tired..", a male voice answered instead. A very familiar male voice.

Then everything turned black.

"So it started..." he whispered into the darkness.

 "Elodie? Elodie wake up!"

Blinking I opened my eyes discovering Queen Frigga right next to me shaking me furiously. "I am awake, I am..awake..I guess..", I tried to get up but my head almost killed me so I sank back down. "Slowly, child. Tell me what happened", she took my hand eyeing me anxiously. "I have absolutely no idea...I must have hit my head somewhere. Actually I wanted to get down and follow the others, that's the last thing I remember", I still regret lying to her but I had to protect Loki because I had no idea what was going to happen if I'd spilled the beans. His intention was to build up another, visual connection between the two of us but what for?

I had to find that out and to do so I desperately needed to follow him immediately.

"Queen Frigga, I have to go", standing up I smoothed down my clothes and headed for the door.

"Elodie stop", she still held me by the wrist, "you need armour and weapons, girl."

Silently I nodded. She was perfectly right, I almost forgot to take at least a sword with me.

She led me down a couple of stairs and shoved me into an almost hidden chamber next to a huge statue of the Allfather himself.

"Put these on", she handed me a pair of silver spaulders", ..and the breastplate here and of course you need gauntlets.." In the blink of an eye I was a fully dressed swordmaiden.

"Here, you take my dagger with you, strip it to the inside of your boots, there is a small sheath. It will protect you in grave danger, that's its purpose! Now you've got to rush, girl. Take the grey horse, it's name is Fulla. Pat her on the head twice before you mount her and she will know that I sent you and therefore you're trustworthy", my heart almost shattered at her words. Frigga looked truly concerned and her eyes were glistening with tears of fear for her son and what might happen to him if I couldn't reconnect out powers.

"Everything will work out, do not worry", I bowed deeply, thanked her and hurried to the stables making sure not to cross paths with any of the staff that might recognize me.

 When I arrived outside I nodded at the stable boys trying to look sure of what I was doing and followed Friggas instructions. Fulla nuzzled at my hand tickling it lightly which signaled me that I was allowed to get on her back. "Come now, quick! We've got a stubborn prince to find", I whispered in her ear hoping she would be fast.

And I wasn't disappointed. The horse was more than fast.

Riding her felt like flying by the grassland and past the fields and hills outside of the palace. Rakith was following us by soaring above in circular motions.

Now it wasn't only the Queen worrying, I was also concerned about Loki which was not only caused by our bond. I felt half without him near me. And I wasn't sure what to think of the ring and the insights it had given me.

I could see what Loki saw that was for sure but why should I see this?

What were the meanings of this?

Something inside of me started doubting that it was truly him who put the ring on my bed. Maybe someone wanted me to see with his eyes making it easier to watch him.

Or maybe it meant something more, something a lot darker.

Suddenly I felt all the power circulating through me, pulsing through my veins mixing with my blood. Involuntarily I shivered at the mere thought of what it could do if I wasn't careful.

 When twilight turned the sky a dark shade of blue I finally caught the first glimpse of the bivouac the soldiers had built up and the fires glimmering like a firefly in the approaching darkness. Soundlessly I got down from Fulla whispering her to get closer and mix in with the other horses to have food and water provided.

I myself put on a hooded cloak, Frigga gave me before I dashed away, and tried to approach the tents. Watching my every step I dug beneath piles of supplies getting closer and closer to what I assumed were Thors and Lokis  accomodations.

"Who are you? Say your name now or die!", the moment I touched the fabric of the tent the tip of a shortsword touched my back causing me to shiver.

"Please don't hurt me, Victoria..it's only me..Elodie..", I raised my hands slowly and put down my hood revealing my apologetic face.

"Elodie? What are you doing here? This could turn into a full grown battle tomorrow, it's not a playground for curious girls!", she grabbed me by the arm and yanked me down on the ground putting away her sword.

"That was most certainly not my idea, believe me! Queen Frigga wanted me to find Loki and reconnect our powers.."

"The Queen knows??", Victoria gasped.

"Shhh..", I shushed her, "yes she knows about us and well, our problem.."

Victoria shook her head in disbelief: "This situation is starting to get insane, you've got to do something and I mean both of you. Until now it was basically you trying to find a solution, we need that little brat of an asgardian prince to get a grip."

"Well well well..what do we have here?"

A well known voice behind of us startled Victoria so much she drew her sword in reflex blushing heavily at the sight of Thor grinning down on us.

"You girls weren't talking about me, were you?", he squeezed his muscular warriors body inbetween us almost squashing me.

"Nope..actually..we've been talking about Loki...", I sighed in defeat.