#i was just wandering around and then popped into one charity shop found the two jackets i've been wanting

[dykefever]

got a beautiful deep chocolate brown leather jacket and a denim jacket today ... spent less than £30 and they fit so well !!!!!!!

[leafs-lover]

We could be friends

A/N: This is a requested piece for Matthew Tkachuck. I struggled a bit, changing the intro a few times so I hope it flows well. 

Summary: A few months after a breakup you go out with some of the Flames players for a couple drinks. You end up having a wild night with Matthew Tkachuk after you both admit  to wanting this for a while.

Warnings: Drinking, swearing, mentions of cheating, smut, oral sex (male and female receiving), maybe something else?

Word Count: 6400

“Hanifin" you call out “you’re getting mic'd up tonight.” 

He smiles while nodding to you and continues down the hall. You work for the flames as a member of the social media team, have for the past 4 and a half months. You don’t really know a lot of the players on a personal level, most of them make casual small talk with you. 

Your interactions are kept relatively short, especially on game days. Players have a ritual, and you don’t want to intrude on their process. Beyond that you help with coordinating the media for team events, whether they are charity events or ones organized by the PR. During some of those events you get the opportunity to mingle a bit with the players, but as you are still at work you keep it professional.

After the game you are in the locker room unclipping the mic from Noah. Some players are conducting interviews while others have wandered off for a postgame treatment.  

“You coming tonight?”  

You aren’t sure if he is talking to you, even half full the room is buzzing; the boys are coming off a big win. You look up at the 6’3” defenseman who is easily 2 inches taller on his skates; he took his jersey off but waiting for the mic to come off to remove his chest protector before continuing. His light blue eyes stare down at you as he waits your response. 

“Coming where?” you ask turning the mic off. 

“A few of us were going to grab some drinks. Didn’t know if you were joining us” he explains. 

“Nah (Y/N) doesn’t come out. I’ve tried as few times but she always scurries home to her boyfriend” Tkachuk jokes coming to his stall beside Noah’s. 

Another reason why you don’t have any real relationships with the players is Mark. You have been dating for a while, and he is insecure about the fact that you work around all men, attractive men. If you spent some time outside the hockey rink you likely would have some knowledge on the boys besides their ridiculous nicknames for each other.

You haven’t wanted to cause any ripples so you never ventured out with the team. And honestly you weren’t too upset about it, after working a long day you enjoyed coming home and curling up in bed with Mark. But that all changed when you came home from the road trip a few weeks ago and found him in bed with Sarah, someone you thought was your good friend.

You shoot Matt a glance and turn back to Noah “you know I think I might come tonight” you say, turning around and walking away out of the locker room.

2 hours later you are sitting at the booth with a couple players. You quickly ran home after the game and touched up your makeup and changed into a pair of skinny jeans and your black long sleeve turtle neck. The bar is slightly casual but you don’t want to be under dressed so you throw on a pair of short heeled booties and a simple gold chain to dress it up.

A few of the older players and their significant others recently left as the time is encroaching on midnight. Some of the other players are scattered around the bar, you see Matt by the bar talking to a red head who is wearing a dress that is way too tight, and should likely have more fabric given the cool Calgary temperatures. She is laughing at one of his jokes, her hand lightly touching his forearm.

“He’s always like this” Noah says from across the table. “Makes a big deal about getting us out, team bonding and crap then wanders off never to be seen again.” You laugh hearing him say this and Noah gets up to go to the bathroom. You look down at your drink and see its basically melted ice at this point and get up heading to the bar.

As you wait for the bartender’s attention you feel a body brush up against you, you glace out the side of your eye and see light brown hair and immediately knowing who is there. The bartender walks over and you order another drink and Noah does too.

“So Matt said you have a boyfriend” he asks, you can tell he is just making small talk and doesn’t really know what to lead with.

“Uh we broke up” you respond.

“Oh, sorry to hear that.”

“Don’t be, he was a crappy boyfriend I just wish I saw it sooner” before you have a chance to continue talking and change the subject a body presses  between the two of you throwing an arm over both your shoulders.

“I can’t believe we finally get you out, and you decide to drink that garbage. I know you didn’t drink a lot but come on, 15 year olds drink that. Thought you would have acquired some tolerance by now” Matt says mocking your safe beer choice. “No hard liquor, and you went for a light beer too.”

Without responding you flag the bartender down who walks up to you “can I get four tequila shots?”

You turn your attention back to Matt “I like the taste of beer. But I went to school for communication I learned how to handle my alcohol” you say throwing back one of the tequila shots with ease.

“No salt or lime?” Noah asks watching you.

“Don’t need training wheels” you reply handing each of the boys a shot.

“Nah I’m good. I learned a while ago not to drink that poison. Have fun” he jokes setting his shot down and walking away.

“Guess you have to take two” you say as Matt shifts more of his weight to you, his hand sliding down to your mid back. You look around him to the red head that is shooting you daggers as she watches her hard work begin to unravel. You chuckle slightly because you know you won’t be going home with Matt tonight, given the choice he would obviously take home the red head.

Matt throws the first shot back, making a face as it burns going down his throat. He sets the empty glass on the bar before pulling your face close to his mouth so he doesn’t have to yell over the music.

“Maybe you should give me the passcode for your phone. That way when you start puking in the bathroom I can call your boyfriend to come get you” he jokes taking a sip of his whiskey.

“I’ll be fine, besides your little friend won’t take too kindly to me handing you my phone. She already looks like she is going to kill me just for talking to you.” You pass him the second shot and you both cheers before throwing it back, feeling the liquid slide down your throat. Matt gently squeezes your waist, likely an involuntary response to the burning from the tequila.

“I’m not too worried about her” he says placing the glass on the counter and sliding his hand further down your back, his pinky an inch above your jeans. You begin to feel a fire ignite in your core, a feeling you haven’t felt in a while. You play it off as the tequila playing games on you, you’re reading into this. There is no way Matt is flirting with you, he likely hasn’t even noticed where his hand is resting.

“So is your boy out of town or something?” he asks. You shoot him a questioning glance “you never come out, figured if you are it’s because he is away and won’t know” he continues. You flag down the bartender and motion for three more shots.

You don’t answer instead you turn your body slightly to face the bar, but stick your ass out a bit. You immediately throw one of the shots back, wincing slightly at the burn. You feel Matt’s hand slide off your back before you speak “no he is in town I think.”

“You think?” he asks sliding up beside you, leaning on his arm against the bar.

“Well I stopped caring what he was doing or where he was going when we broke up” you explain looking up at his dirty blonde curls.

“Oh sorry to hear that” he says smirking.

“No you’re not” you laugh back at him.

“Yeah, break ups suck. If you need anything, I mean I know we don’t know each other that well…”

“I’ve been doing alright, and these tequila I put on your tab have also helped” you smile at him inching closer to him. “But it happened like almost 2 months ago, so I’m actually pretty good.

“Two months, how did you keep it a secret?”

“Well it happened right before Christmas, and after the break there was the road trip but I didn’t go on it. And then it was all-star break. Haven’t actually worked a lot, and we aren’t really that good of friends. I didn’t consider you a top priority in informing of my personal life” you explain taking another shot.

Matt stands at the bar, holding the shot in his hand. He sways it in his hands staring at you for a minute. “Maybe we can change that” he says taking the shot, placing the glass upside down on the bar.

“Change what?” you ask.

“Us not being friends, we could be friends” he says moving closer, his thigh pressing against you. You roll your eyes at him “why can’t we be friends? We can go shopping, grab lunch. Send some text messages, maybe see a movie every now and then” his mouth is inches from your ear. You feel your knees get weak, wetness pooling in your core as you breathe in his cologne.

“Matty” you hear someone calls from behind you. Matt steps away from you and turns his attention to the voice, you look over your shoulder even though you know who is there. Up close you notice how her boobs are practically popping from her dress, and she likely spent hours doing her hair and makeup.

“Yeah” he replies slightly annoyed.

She walks up to him and is practically pressed against you, pushing you out of the way trying to capture his attention.

“Want to do a shot?” she asks coyly.

“You know I think I’m good, we’ve already done a couple” he says eyeing over to you. The red head follows his gaze, shooting you a scowl.

“Well I think we we’re thinking of heading to another bar soon anyways. This place is getting kind of boring.”

“Oh well have fun” he says to her. You immediately see anger bubble in her face, you turn away so she doesn’t see you laugh.

“You don’t want to come?” she whines.

“No I think I’m going to stay and chat with my good friend (Y/N). You have a good night.” He turns his back to her and you hear her huff out a breath of air as her heels click away. Matt looks at you and see’s the large grin on your face and he shakes his head.

“I don’t know what was better. That little interaction or you calling me your good friend.” “We could be good friends, she doesn’t know” he retorts putting his elbows on the bar beside you. “So tell me friend why did you and your boyfriend break up?”

Your eyes narrow slightly as you stare at him “good friends know about each other’s relationships. Like as my good friend you know I am single.”

He stops talking waiting for your response “he slept with my good friend Sarah. Part of the reason I’m not looking for any more good friends at the moment” you reply.

“Well as your good friend I promise to not sleep with any guys you date” he says smiling.

“What if I date a girl?” you ask.

“I promise I won’t sleep with anyone you date, man or woman. No real friend would do that” he takes a slow sip of his whiskey. “You date woman too?” he asks.

“I have, yes” you take a sip. “As my friend do you have a problem with that?”

“Oh the contrary. As your friend I just want you to be happy.” You shake your head at him and chuckle “you sure you’re okay though being cheated on sucks.”

You stare up into his eyes and see concern and  sincerity looking back at you, making you think maybe he has some experience with this. You were going to make some smart ass comment about what girl broke his heart but you feel maybe this isn’t something he wants to joke about.

“We were together just under two years but since we broke up I realized how much of myself I lost. Before him I had a lot of friends, guys and girls; but early on we got in some fights on about him being uncomfortable with me hanging out with my guy friends. He thought I wanted to sleep with some of them and I would cheat which is so ironic now” you take a slow sip of your beer before continuing. “I just didn’t want to cause problems with him, found it easier to just not see them to avoid a fight. I mean I shouldn’t have given up my friends, but I saw some of them at the holidays. I’m thankful all of my old friends, guys and girls, were willing to let me back in. But I haven’t been this happy in a while” you say smiling.

“Well that’s good, if you’re happy then I’m happy for you friend” he says playfully nudging you.

“Okay good friend, tell me some things you know about me” you joke.

He stares at you for a second “if we’re good friends you should know basic stuff like my birthday, where I’m from, favourite colour. I don’t know how we can be friends if all we know is the other person is single” you say smiling.

Matt’s eyes narrow, you can see the wheels turning in his brain as he takes a sip. He sets the empty glass on the bar, taking a deep breath. “Your favourite colour is (Y/F/C); you grew up in Calgary. You like tea instead of coffee, you love the show Friends, made obvious by your Friends mug and t-shirt you have rocked at the arena. You have a major sweet tooth, but not a big fan of salty, and prefer white to red wine.” He continues to ramble on a few more facts about you before you finally cut him off “how do you know all this?”

“You caught my attention on day one, but there is still lots I don’t know.”

You turn your head to him slightly “like what?” you ask him taking a sip.

He steps closer, his thigh pressing to the back of your legs “what it takes to make your toes curl. What it sounds like when you moan.”

You choke on your drink and start coughing as you try and capture your breath. “What?” you croak out.

You feel his hand return onto the small of your back, his pinky slides through your belt loop. You take a gulp as he grins, his mouth inches from your ear. “I have thought about this since the first day I saw you, what you look like under that shirt. What you taste like, what you feel like” he stops as a shiver runs down your spine.

His hand slips slightly further down, resting above your ass. “Tell me you haven’t thought of this and I will walk away right now, act as this never happened.”

You consider his words, and remember the first time you met him. The first time you saw him was in the locker room, he was in jeans and a tight black t-shirt.

“”This is the boys locker room” Sarah says opening the door. You walk in and see the back of a man who is standing at his locker, he has on a simple outfit with a backwards baseball cap. You can see his blond curls sticking out the sides of his hat, he hears people enter and quickly turns around.

“Oh sorry Matt I didn’t think anyone was in yet” Sarah explains as your eyes lock on his.

“Oh no worries I got her early to get my things set up. I don’t think anyone is supposed to be here for another hour” he explains smiling taking a few steps towards you.

“This is (Y/N), she is starting with social media and team engagement. I’m just giving her a tour of the building.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Matt” he says sticking his hand out which you accept smiling back at him. You know who he is, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have a crush on him. Being a Flames fan your whole life you knew who the players were, but watching him on the ice the last couple years you developed a middle school crush on him. He skated around the rink with such ease and he seemed like someone who is fun to be around, someone who can make you laugh all the time.

Feeling his hand on yours, the same hands that you watch get in fights,  makes you begin to wonder what else they can do. You imagine what his body would look like under his shirt, your juices running down his chin. You get lost in his eyes, and don’t realize you still are holding his hand until Sarah calls you to continue the tour. You shake your head and immediately release his hand, your cheeks going red.

Matt smirks at you, running his thumb on his chin “look forward to working with you” he calls out as you turn to hide your embarrassment.

Matt is still staring at you, a sideways smirk on his face waiting for you to respond. You quickly turn your head away and whisper a soft no.

“Really? The redness on your cheek says otherwise. It tells me I am right, you have thought of this” he says shooting you a devilish grin. His mouth is now inches from your ear “tell me when your home alone, lying in bed. And you slip your fingers, actually you probably have a vibrator or two”

“Or three” you whisper softly. Matt heard you because he groans before he continues “so when you turn on your vibrator and slide it in, what do you think of? What gets you going? When you fucked your ex whose face did you picture when you would cum?” he gives your ass a light squeeze, as you feel his warm breath on your neck. You are practically dripping at his words, but you wait knowing he isn’t done “I’ll be honest, I’ve thought of you over the past few months. We’ve had some great times in my mind.”

“So tell me, have you had to bite your lip from screaming my name?”

“No” you reply lightly knowing that isn’t the answer he is looking for. You feel him tense up but before he moves away, you continue “I didn’t have to, because Mark never made me…he never…” you pause for  a minute, flustered and unsure of why you are telling him this.

“He never made you cum?” Matt growls in your ear and you just shake your head in response. You turn your head to look at him “if you let me I’ll make up for the shitty sex and-“ unsure what has come over you, you lean forward attaching your lips to his. His one hand firmly grips your ass while his other slides up to cup your face, your mouth opens allowing him more room.

You turn around in his arms, sliding your hand up to grab his bicep as your tongues dance in each other’s mouths. You feel a body nudge into you slightly and you suddenly become very aware you are making out with someone in the middle of the bar. You pull away gasping for air and whisper against his lips “take me home.”

Matt doesn’t respond instead he throws some bills on the bar quickly and pulls you out the door. You don’t even have time to zip up your coat on before he is opening the cab door and pushing you in. You slide across to the far seat and Matt crawls in sitting beside you. You smirk at him as you lean against the corner of the seat and door.

Matt tells the driver his address as the meter starts “there is a $50 tip if you keep your eyes on the road” he says, eyes dark with lust. Before you can respond he crawls over to you and slides his tongue back in your mouth, his hand slides up and down your stomach. This kiss is fast and passionate similar to the one in the bar, his hand slides under the fabric of the shirt and you pull away.

Your eyes go wide and Matt is smirking down at you. You shoot your eyes to the taxi driver “what if he looks” you whisper to him. Matt just smirks and sits up in the middle seat, pulling you to his lap.

“Can’t see anything now” he whispers before sucking on your neck. His hands are on your ass but are hidden from the driver thanks to your long coat. You rock your hips against him, feeling the outline of his bulge.

“Careful baby” he warns against your neck. You bite your lip as Matt begins nipping on your neck, you rock your hips more, getting closer to ensure Matt can feel it through the jeans.

“Last warning” he hums in your ear sucking on your ear lobe. This doesn’t stop you, in fact it encourages you to keep going. Matt’s hands come around to the front of your jeans and quickly undo the button and zipper. He brings his lips up to yours and starts kissing you, when you feel him shove his hand inside.

He pushes your soaked underwear to the side and thrusts two fingers inside of you. You pull back and take a gasp of air “I warned you babygirl” he chuckles as his fingers begin to move inside of you. You burry your head into the crook of his neck as he continues to pump his fingers inside of you “can’t wait until we get home” he whispers. His thumb begins to press circles on your clit as his other hand massages your breast.

“Can’t wait until I get to hear you scream” he sucks on your neck increasing the pace of his fingers. You feel your orgasm quickly approaching, maybe because it’s been so long since another person has given you one, or it’s the tequila shots. Or it’s the fact that you’re in public with a stranger mere feet from you, something you never imagined yourself doing. Maybe it’s a combination but all you know is your orgasm is seconds away.

“Matt please” you whisper likely a little too loud.

He instead kisses your jaw “you gonna cum” he whispers. Unable to respond you nod and his fingers increase their pace. You grip Matt’s waist and bite his shoulder to try and supress your moans as he pumps you through it. You feel your walls spasm as liquid spills out coating his fingers, when you finish you rest your forehead on his shoulder and take a deep breath.

You feel his hand come out of your jeans as he gives your ass one final squeeze “we’re here.”

You look around and realize you were unaware the taxi had stopped, and you don’t even know how long you have been stopped. You roll off Matt as he pulls a $100 out of his wallet for the $20 fare. You jump out of the taxi, Matt quickly behind you. You stop on the sidewalk and attempt to do up your pants as his hands wrap around you “don’t bother, they’ll be on my floor in 2 minutes.”

Before you can react he pulls you inside to the elevator. You pull your coat in front of you, so nobody would know as you feel your cheeks flush. The doors ding close and Matt walks over standing in front of you. He gently lifts your head up to look at him “you okay?” he gently asks. ”We don’t have to do anything. I have a spare room, I can drive you home in the morning. Whatever you’re comfortable with, if it’s too soon since –“

“No it’s not that, I just can’t believe I did that. I let you finger me in a taxi, I had an orgasm and he was less than a foot away, I just can’t believe-“

“Hey” Matt says lightly kissing your forehead “first of all it was super-hot; like super-hot. I have never done anything like that before but fuck that was incredible. Two he received a very generous tip, and he could have kicked us out at any point. Besides I doubt he heard anything, you bit me pretty hard; I don’t think any sounds came out.”

You smile up at him, feeling more at ease so you lean in and kiss him. “It was a heat of the moment, next time I promise to wait until were in my apartment; assuming you want a next time.”

“At least a room with a lock on the door” you joke kissing him before the elevator dings for his floor.

“Deal” he says taking your hand and leading you down the hall. He unlocks the door and helps you out of your coat. You unzip your boots as Matt looks at you “want a drink or anything?”

You just smile and shake your head, walking towards him closing the gap between you. You jump up into his arms, he catches you with ease as he chuckles. You look into his eyes, fingers running through his curls “I want to see your bed” you say attaching your mouth to his neck.

Matt grans and carries you down the hall, stopping for a minute to turn on the bedroom light then he drops you on the bed. He grabs your ankles and pulls your jeans off your legs. A devilish grin spreads on his face before he crawls onto the bed and opens your legs. He smiles seeing the wetness in your underwear, as he hooks a finger into them pulling them down your legs.

He lies down on the bed, placing your legs over his shoulders and begins to lick some of the juices that remain from the taxi ride. “Fuck” he mumbles licking you clean “better than I imagined.” His mouth begins places kisses on your pussy, causing your legs to squirm slightly. His tongue slides inside your walls and begins to lick the inside of you.

His tongue begins flicking the inside of your pussy, your back arches off the mattress while Matt chuckles below you. He throws an arm over your waist pinning you to the bed. Your hands slide down to his hair, firmly tangling in them as his tongue continues exploring inside you.

His tongue becomes more intense pressing inside of you; he licks circles on your clit, your legs tightening around his head. You try to grind your hips, searching for more friction but he has you pinned down and laughs at your attempts.

“Keep it up and I’ll tie you to the bed” he growls before diving back in. He begins to suck on your clit for a minute before switching it with his thumb. He begins pressing circles on you as his tongue slides back inside.

Your moans become louder as your second high approaches. Your body tenses and you jolt slightly before your pussy spasms, warm liquid spills out as Matt continues to fuck you with his tongue. Matt slows his tongue as you finish, he pulls away looking up at you; your juices covering his mouth and chin.

Matt puts your legs back on the bed, and sits on his heels pulling his shirt off, exposing his hard chiseled chest.  You take him in, trying to catch your breath as he pulls his jeans off leaving him in his boxers. You can see his obvious bulge, straining the fabric waiting to be released. Matt leans down engaging you in a kiss, you can taste yourself on him, as your hands wander his bare back.

His hand slides under your shirt and pulls it over your head exposing your breasts. He leans down placing soft kisses on your stomach while his hand slips behind you undoing your clasp leaving you naked.

“Fuck you’re gorgeous” he says attaching his mouth to your breast and swirls his tongue around your nipple. You bring your hands down to the elastic of his boxer, and start to push them down his thighs, Matt helps and throws them on the floor.

You feel him line his cock up with your entrance, his tip grazing your folds. His mouth alternates sucking and nipping your neck and collarbone as he leans over to reach in the bedside table to pull out a condom. He pulls away when you reach up and grab the wrapper, placing it on the table. Matt looks confused as he stares down at you, but you have to have him in your mouth first so you push him on his back and straddle him.

You rock your hips over his hard dick a couple times before sliding down his thighs, your index finger runs down his abs to his treasure line. Finally you look down at Matt and your jaw drops a blush coming over your cheeks. Matt is average or maybe slightly longer than average but he is thick, you can tell he will destroy you, but that’s a problem for later.

You drop your head down and lick up his shaft, placing a kiss on his tip. Matt moans under you as you bring a hand and lift his cock sliding it in your mouth, gagging slightly as you taste his salty precum. You swirl your tongue around the tip as you bob on him, eventually taking him all in.

As he hits the back of your throat you gag again but keep going, bringing your hand up to massage his balls. You feel some spit begin to dribble down your chin, while Matt brings his hands to your hair. You expect him to pull it away from your face but instead he Matt pulls you off of him.

“I promised to make up for the shitty sex you’ve been having. That I wanted to make your toes curl while you screamed my name.” A pout comes across your face and Matt just laughs grabbing the condom and sliding it on, “if you keep doing that I won’t last.” He pulls you down for a kiss, and tries to push you on his back but you stop him “I want to ride you” you whisper pulling away.

“Fuck” Matt mumbles lining himself up with your folds. You quickly drop down, moaning loudly as you feel your walls being stretched by his width. You don’t give yourself time to adjust, you rise up almost completely and drop back down a few times.

“Jesus babe, you could have taken a moment” he moans putting his hands on your hips.

You place your right hand on his abs “I was worried if I waited I would get scared by the size” you joke setting a fast pace.

Matt’s hands grip your hips tightly as he fucks up into you “you’re so tight babe” he groans while you roll your hips on him. You feel your walls stretch around his thick cock, his fingers digging into your hips leaving marks.

Your breasts bounce up and down as you ride Matt as you increase the pace. He slaps your ass “fuck I’m not gonna last” he groans pulling your face down to kiss you. You feel your orgasm approaching and moan into the kiss .

“You close babygirl” he asks against your lips. Instead of responding, you slide your hands to his hair and kiss him. Matt keeps the pace, fucking up into you, pulling you down onto his cock with every thrust.

“Matt” you moan, knowing you are close.

“Cum for me (Y/N). I need you to cum for me” he moans becoming sloppy under you.

He slaps your ass one more time causing you to yelp as your walls tighten around him. You scream his name and a mixture of curse words as you spasm around him.

“Fucking hell” you hear Matt mumble before he spills inside the condom deep inside your cervix. You collapse on top of him and lie there for a minute. He gently runs his hands through your hair while both of your breathing steadies. Finally you pull yourself onto your forearms and look at Matt. He gently runs his finger up your arm as he softly kisses you.

“That was amazing” you mumble against his lips.

“Mhm” he hums rolling you onto your back and slowly pulling out. You whine at the empty feeling while Matt chuckles, leaving for the bathroom. You hear the shower start and Matt comes back to the room pulling you up from the bed so you are sitting on your heels. His hands slide around you to your back, and firmly grip your ass as he pulls you against his sweaty chest. Your hands tangle in his wet curls as you pull him in for a kiss “your sweaty” you joke attempting to push him off.

He pulls you in close, your breasts pressed into his chest. He dips down slightly and picks you up carrying you to the shower. He sets you down and steps into the warm stream, running his hands through his hair. Matt walks up behind you, and kisses your neck.

“So did I make up for all the shitty sex you were having?” he asks.

“I feel like one amazing night doesn’t make up for almost two years of crappy sex” you say laughing. “Probably have to do it one or ten more times.” Matt laughs in your ear kissing your shoulder “sounds good.”

You push your ass back against his semi-hard penis and he moans. Matt mumbles a fuck as you stand up straight letting the water hit you. You feel his hands on your waist as he presses his dick between your as cheeks; his mouth sucks on your earlobe.

“(Y/N)” he moans as you grind your hips back, feeling him harder behind you. “You have any idea what you do to me?” he growls. You turn your head and look at him, water is running down his chest “I have an idea” you moan. You reach behind you, and grip his shaft and begin stroking it up and down “you have any idea what this does to me?”

“I need you Matt” you whisper kissing him.

Matt steps away and opens the door, grabbing condom from the vanity drawer. He quickly rolls it on himself and he steps back behind you, placing a hand on your back. You feel him push inside, stretching your walls, as you brace yourself on the bench.

Matt uses a knee to spread your legs wider, pulling out and pushing back in. You cry out as he hits you deep, ramming into your cervix. His hands move to your hips and use them to pull you back against him. He pulls almost completely out, pulling your hips back and slamming back inside of you.

“Fuck” you cry out.

“God you feel so good” Matt mumbles setting a fast pace.

One hand leaves your hip and slaps your ass, as you jolt forward wincing at the pain. His hand returns to your hip, and continues to thrust in and out of you.

“You’re so fucking tight” he groans. The sound of skin flapping and moans fill the bathroom as he keeps his pace. He spreads your ass cheeks wider, pumping in and out of you. His thumb grazes over the entrance to your hole, while you whimper under him.

“You gonna cum for me?” he asks drawing a grunt from you, unsure if you can have another.

“I know you can. Do it for me” he growls behind you. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud and start pressing circles on it, as Matt’s hand strokes your ass.

Matt’s pace is fast and erratic; you can tell he is close while he hits you at a deep angle, hitting your g-spot with every thrust.

“Come on baby” he cries out behind you. You know he is straining to keep going, waiting for you. You press hard circles into your bud; Matt bends his knees changing the angle slightly. Your walls begin to tighten as you clench around him. An intense orgasm rips through as Matt keeps his pace.

“Fuck Matt” you moan, your eyes roll back into your head. You feel Matt’s dick twitch, as he spills inside the condom. Matt stills behind you, you take a deep breath. Matt’s hand caresses your back for a moment as he finally pulls out. You turn around and sit on the bench while Matt steps out to throw away the condom.

He returns to the shower, adjusting the temperature to have more hot water. He grabs your hands and pulls you to your feet; you fall against his chest as he strokes your hair. Your arms wrap around his waist, bracing yourself on him.

You feel him put some shampoo in your hair, lathering it in before gently washing it out. He gently applies body wash to you before rinsing it, you lean against the wall as he completes the process on himself. He turns the water off, kissing you and opening the door to wrap a towel around you. He puts on a pair of boxers, and pulls a t-shirt over your head.

Your eyes are heavy as you stand in his bathroom, leaning against his vanity. Matt chuckles kissing your cheek, he carefully scoops you up and carries you to his bed. He gently lies you down and pulls you into his chest, while pulling the duvet up your chest. You listen to his breathing and slowly begin to doze off.

[hockey-hoe-24-7]

4 times you were a tease + 1 time he didn’t let you get away with it, feat. Frederik Andersen

Warnings: Smut, Edging, Teasing, Light bondage, Dom Freddie, Didn’t really spell check, the end is rushed cause I was over it. So this kind of sucks.

Length: 4.0k

You wouldn’t actually call yourself a tease. It wasn’t, like, a personality trait. But you would admit that you loved teasing your boyfriend. 

Starting goalie for the Toronto Maple Leafs, Frederik Andersen was the quintessential strong silent type, known for his calming presence in the net and out of it. The rare moments he did let his temper show, it was a shock to most. As his girlfriend, you had witnessed that temper than most others, but not often. He had confided in you that it had taken him a long time to reign in his anger and you respected that, were proud of him for it. 

The place you really wanted him to let go, though, was in the bedroom. You had only been dating for 6 months, sleeping together for 5 and you could tell he was holding back sexually. Whether it be his size or for fear of hurting or scaring you in some way, you weren’t sure. The sex was absolutely amazing...but there was something missing. 

You planned on addressing that.

I.

“Babe, are you ready?” Freddie’s voice echoed through the hallways of his apartment to where you stood in his master bathroom, putting the finishing touches on your makeup. 

“Yeah, can you come help me for a second?” You called back. You hear his heavy footsteps on the wood floors before he appeared in the doorway to the bathroom, looking fan-fucking-tastic in a navy blue suit. His eyebrows popped when he saw you standing at the mirror in only a black lace bra and a matching thong, hair and makeup done to the nines. 

Uncapping a tube of deep red lipstick, you took your time applying it, very aware that he was watching your every move with rapt attention. He had always loved your mouth. After a very drawn out lipstick application, you capped it, set it down on the marble counter, and reached for your dress hanging on the door in a dry cleaner bag. 

You made a point of ignoring Freddie as he continued to watch all your movements. You bent over, brushing your hair casually over your shoulder to give him an unobstructed view of your cleavage.  You caught him shifting out of the corner of your eye, his arms crossing over his chest and his body leaning against the doorframe. 

You slowly pulled the dress up your legs, letting him enjoy the show...and so you wouldn’t tear it because it was a very expensive dress and you happened to really like it. 

When you got to your hips, you shimmied a bit and you saw him twitch, as if he only just restrained himself from moving toward you.  Once you had the dress over your hips, you raised your head and looked at him innocently. 

“Help me with the zipper?” With that, you turned your back on him and waited, subtly watching him in the mirror. His face was serious as he stepped forward and slowly moved to stand behind you, the heat of him flush against the bare skin of your back. Instead of going straight to the zipper of your dress, his hands settled at your bares shoulders and wandered slowly down your spine before cradling your hips. You shuddered and heard his inhale sharply before he pulled you back against his chest and buried his face in your neck, laying a hot open mouthed kiss to your throat. Groaning, your eyes fluttered shut and you let your head fall to the side for him. 

When you felt his fingers inch under the waistband of your thong, your eyes snapped open and you stepped out of his grip. Looking over your shoulder, you almost laughed aloud at his surprised expression. “Zipper.” His beautiful face fell into a pout, but he did as instructed, leaving one chaste kiss on your exposed shoulder. With that, you brushed past him and made for the door, not even sparing him a glance as he mumbled something in Danish and skulked after you.

II.

The charity event had been a blast for many reasons. It was always fun to hang out with the other players and their SOs. 

You also had ample chance to tease your boyfriend. 

Light touches throughout the evening, leaning back against him when talking to other people, pressing your chest flush to his when you needed to pass by him. Like all the other players, he was expected to be social tonight so he couldn’t just drag you to the bathroom and fuck you, but you could tell he was beginning to lose patience. 

Unfortunately, before he could take you home and fuck the hell out of you, the two of you were invited out for a teammate’s birthday and ended up staying out until nearly 3:30 am. Both of you had been too exhausted to do much of anything when you got home. You had barely gotten your dress and makeup off before passing out. 

Now, the next day, you woke up by yourself, the bed noticeably colder without Freddie next to you. Patting around the bed, you eventually found your phone and checked the time. 11:15 am. Damn. You had really slept in. You were meeting your mom for lunch and shopping at 12. That worked out perfectly. 

Making quick work of a shower, make up and changing into something clean, you sauntered out to find your boyfriend sitting on the couch, playing video games. 

Walking up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his broad shoulders and nuzzled your face into his neck, savoring the warmth and familiar smell of him. You wish you had woken up sooner so you could stay exactly like this for a few more hours. 

“Morning, min elskede,” he rumbled, turning to press a kiss to your temple. “Heading out soon?” You made a sound of confirmation against the fabric of his hoodie. Pulling your head up to rest your chin on his shoulder, you watched him play for a few seconds. “Can they hear me?” You asked. “Yeah,” he answered distractedly. He wasn’t particularly good at video games, but he was getting better. 

Pressing your face back into his neck, you let your lips only just graze the dribbled skin there. He inhaled sharply and went rigid. His hands stilling on the controller. “Think you can stay quiet?” You murmured against the shell of his ear. He didn’t answer so you moved your hands down the broad width of his chest until you reached the band of his sweatpants. Hesitating a long second, you reached down - not very easily because he was so damn tall - and palmed his cock. He let out a streak of curses and instinctively bucked his hips against your grip. You reminded him that you had an audience with a “ssshhhhh” against the shell of his ear. You felt his jaw tense against the side of your head as you let your fingers slowly massage his cock, which was growing harder and harder against your hand. When you loosened your grip, his own hand slapped over yours, forcing your fingers to tighten. You nipped his ear in retaliation and he sucked in another right breath, his hips jackknifing nearly off the couch.

Just as quick as you had started, you pulled away. “Shit, I’m late.” Which wasn’t actually a lie. Freddie looked at you furiously and you thought you had him this time. He certainly looked like he was ready to pull you over the couch and fuck you raw.  But much to your chagrin, he took a deep breath and looked away, his body still pulled right with anticipation.

Dammit. The cool,calm and collected had won again.

“Have fun,” he all but snarled at you. “Tell your mom hello.” Ignoring the pang of irritation, you kissed the top of his head and snatched up your purse. 

III.

You ended up spending the entire day with your mom, grabbing lunch, walking up and down the streets of Toronto, stopping into different shops, etc. You had a dinner tonight with Freddie and some other couples on the team, so you stopped by your own apartment to get ready. You were already pushing it with the time so you told Freddie to come pick you up instead of going to his place first.

An hour later, there was a rapping at your door. Giving yourself a final once over in the mirror, you opened the door to see Freddie looking as gorgeous as ever in another well tailored suit. He went completely still as he took you in. Whereas the dress you had worn to the charity event had been elegant and sexy in an understated way, this dress was more of a smack-you-in-the-face, grab-you-by-the-dick kind of sexy. Short and figuring hugging, it fit you like a second skin and made you feel like a goddess.

“Ready?” You asked nonchalantly. As you made to brush past him, his hand was suddenly at your elbow and he was hauling you back until your body met the open door. You grunted in surprise, but it was short lived as Freddie pressed his body against yours, dwarfing you even in your four inch heels. Hands framing your head, he pressed you back until you had to crane your neck to meet his gaze.

“I know what you’re doing,” he growled down at you. You could barely hold in your gasp as he pushed his knee up between your legs, the fabric of his dress pants coarse against the bare skin of your thighs. “And you need to watch it, little girl. It won’t end well for you.” A burst of heat in your belly and you were immediately wet.

You could have given in, let him have you right there in the hallway of your apartment building, let him release all that isn’t up frustration you knew he was keeping from you. You could feel it like like a pulse beneath his skin and a deep part of you screamed out for it. Instead, you mustered every ounce of willpower you had to rise onto your tiptoes and murmur against his lips, “I have no idea what you are talking about.” A soft peck and you were wiggling out of his grip and sauntering down the hallway, an extra swing in your hips.

IV.

The entire car ride to the restaurant, Freddie had his hand dangerously high on your thigh, his fingers nearly wrapping completely around your leg. You always loved his hands. Whether they were holding your hands, holding your leg, or holding your throat, you loved them. Now, you let your fingers toy with his, an absentminded display of intimacy you had both grown to enjoy.

When you reached the restaurant, Freddie rounded the car to open the door for you and help you out. You in made sure he got a nice view of your legs as you took your time stepping out of the car. Aware that people were staring, he kept an arm tight around your waist as he ushered you into the restaurant and toward the table the other couples were already seated at. It was Mitch who let out a good hearted wolf whistle and Steph who pinched him, even though she was smiling too. She stood up to greet you, arms open. “Damn, Y/N, if I didn’t know better I’d think you were single in that dress.” You laughed and embraced her.

The dinner was delicious, as usual, and the wine was making you all warm and fuzzy inside. As planned, Freddie couldn’t keep his hands off of you all night, from wrapping his arm around your shoulders to stroking his hand up and down your leg. After an hour or so, you excused yourself to use the restroom. Seeing the bathroom hallway and the women’s bathroom were empty, you took out your phone and furiously texted your boyfriend to meet you ASAP. He was at your side in less than 15 seconds, looking so concerned you almost felt bad for what you we’re about to do. Almost. 

“Y/N, what’s—“

Grabbing him by the front of his jacket, you dragged him into the women’s bathroom, shoving him up against the door once it was closed. Standing as far as you could on your tiptoes, you threw your arms around his neck and crushed your mouth onto his. It took him no time to respond instinctively, his mouth slanting over yours and his hands clapping over your hips. He lifted you like you weighed nothing and you wrapped your legs tight around his hips. He crossed the small bathroom in three long strides until he could set you on the sink counter. His hands thrust into your hair, moving your head to suit his needs. You bit his bottom lip and he groaned deep in reply, giving your hair a sharp yank. Tightening your grip around his neck, you pulled until he palmed your ass and pulled you closer to the edge of the sink, bending your body back and against his own until you could feel every taut muscle in his chest. One large hand was then running down your thigh and back up beneath your dress. You gasped into his mouth when we pushed two fingers slowly inside of you. He bit hard on your bottom lip, as if reminding you to not stop kissing him.  Just as you were slipping your hands under his shirt, a loud burst of male laughter from the hallway startled you both. Freddie leapt always from you, struggling to catch his breath, his cock straining against his dress pants. You put a hand to your chest, trying to catch your own breath. 

You didn’t blame him for his reaction. He had a reputation to uphold here. One that didn’t include breaking a sink while fucking his girlfriend in the bathroom of an upscale restaurant. As you straightened your hair, he was suddenly on top of you again, clenching your chin in his hand and forcing your head back to meet his gaze. “We’re finishing this tonight.” An order. You took a deep breath. “You know I’m meeting some out of town friends after this. I haven’t see them in 5 months.” Freddie’s expression was murderous and, for a small moment, you wondered if you had gone too far. But then he was leaning forward until you were nearly nose to nose. "You are going to pay for this." And then he was turning around and stalking out of the bathroom, nearly breaking the door in half. You gave yourself a few more seconds to compose yourself before following him back to the table.

V.

You ended up staying out until 3 am with your out of town friends and crashing at the apartment on an in town friend,having gotten too drunk to navigate your route home. You had shot Freddie a quick text explaining the situation and gotten a simple “ok” in response. Not abnormal for him. But you could practically feel his frustration through the phone. Good.

When you did finally make your way back to his apartment around 9 am the next morning, it was to hear the shower going in his room.  Shedding your own clothes, you took a long moment to admire the view of him standing beneath the shower head, rivulets of water running across the plains of his skin, the crevices of his muscles. You could stare at him for hours, but you were beginning to shiver. Knocking on the glass door to alert him to your presence, your heart twittered when he smiled softly and stepped back to make room for you. Stepping beneath the spray, you shivered as your body adjusted to the new temperature. The two of you showered in a comfortable silence and you found yourself being done before he was. He was definitely more of a leisurely showerer when he was at home.

Before you stepped out of the shower, you pushed yourself as far up on your tiptoes as you could go and placed a long, wet kiss to the strong column of his throat. He groaned and let his head fall back, his hands skimming down your sides to your hips. As he began to pull you tighter into him, you stepped out of his grip. Looking up at him, you almost laughed at his expression. 

“I’m all done.” A kiss to the center of his chest and you were stepping out of the shower, grabbing a towel and heading back to the bedroom. You hadn’t even stepped into the bedroom before you heard the shower turn off and Fred’s feet hitting the marble floor. You squealed in surprise when he latched a hand over your wrist and pulled you back into his chest. You hit it with a thud and didn’t even have time to recover before he was slamming his mouth on yours in a punishing kiss. You groaned and clutched at his shoulders. You squealed again when he plucked you up off the ground, you legs wrapping tight around his hips, one arm holding you to him effortlessly. Then the two of you were moving, walking through the bedroom and collapsing onto the bed.

When your back hit the mattress, you reached in between your bodies, desperate to have him inside of you. You fisted his cock, intent on guiding him inside of you, but he was faster. Grabbing both of your wrists in his hands, he shackled them to the mattress above your head. He pulled his mouth from yours, your breath still mingling.

“Oh no, sweetheart,” he murmured. “It won’t be half that easy.”

“Fred-”

But he was moving off of you, landing a stinging slap to your hip. “Don’t move.” You didn’t think twice about disobeying him, only watched as he crossed the room and picked last night’s tie from the floor.  His eyes were dark and hooded as he moved toward you again. 

“Hands on the bedpost.”

Heat flooding between your legs, you did as you were told, wiggling across the mattress to grab the corner bedpost. He met you there, jerking your hands roughly so you were holding the post between your wrists. With quick hands, he tied you to the bedpost. Instinctively, you pulled at the bondage, found that it was nice and tight, but you could probably get loose if you really tried.

Not that you wanted to. 

Freddie was looming over you, leaning down until you were nearly nose to nose. “Safe word is blue. Say it.”

“Blue.”

“Again.”

“Blue.”

A satisfied smirk. “Good girl.” 

He pecked you on the mouth before moving onto the bed again, parting your legs and kneeling between them. You were completely exposed to him, no part of you hidden from eyes that shamelessly roamed your body like he owned it.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve put me through these last few days?” he asked, his voice deep and husky with arousal as he leaned over you, brushing his lips over your jaw. “Teasing me.” A light kiss. “Driving me insane.” Another. “Then walking away.” A sharp bite that made you flinch.  His mouth came to yours again and took it in a long, hard kiss. “Now it’s your turn,” he continued. “To be teased until you’re begging me to fuck you.” You whimpered in response, flexing your hips beneath his weight.

But he was pulling away, trailing his mouth back to your jaw and down your throat with exquisite slowness. Arching your neck for him, you whimpered again when he ignored the obvious plea and moved his mouth down your breastbone to the valley of your breasts. He kissed one beaded nipple with just enough pressure that you gave a light gasp and arched into him. He moved to the other, taking this one fully into his mouth, pressing his tongue flat against it.  As pleasure began to build, he moved yet again and you let out a frustrated curse. You felt his lips quirk into a smile against your skin before he continued moving, kissing down your stomach until he was just above your pussy. Suddenly he was leaning back and pulling your hips up off the bed, raising your ankles over his shoulders so you were completely helpless. You felt a tight kiss a breath above your clit and you tried to close your legs around his head, but he easily pried them back open. After a few more teasing kisses just shy of where you needed them, his mouth pressed lightly to your clit. You gasped and arched your hips into the touch. You were being shameless and you knew it. And you didn’t care. Here, with him, you felt nothing but want.

He didn’t open his mouth and eat you like wanted-needed-him to. All he gave you were small, tight lipped kisses that drove your desperation higher and higher. When he finally did open his mouth slightly to lick your throbbing clit, you thought he might just push you over...but he pulled away. Writhing in his grip, you tried to chase the high, but it faded away.

Giving you one last nip to the thigh, Freddie moved your legs back down to the bed, slowly running his hands up to your thighs. “What do you need, baby?” he asked, his voice low and taunting. “Tell me.”

“Fred, I need-I need you.”

He grinned at that, clearly amused and satisfied by your words.

“Hmmm. This what you need?”

Leaning over you, he slid his cock through the folds of your pussy. You moaned long and loud as your eyes fluttered shut with pleasure. Pulling back, he gave another long, slow thrust, his cock only just grazing your clit. 

Bracing his arms on either side of your head, he took your mouth in a deep, wet kiss. You instinctively moved to wrap your arms around his shoulders, but came up against the binds. It was brutal, having no anchor against the onslaught of sensation. Freddie was breathing deeply, his chest pressing deep into yours as he continued to slide his cock through your folds, keeping you at a torturous level of pleasure. Back and forth, back and forth, it was an exquisite pain.

As if he knew you were finally going to reach your climax, he backed off again, leaving you just at the edge.

“Easy, baby,” he murmured against your cheek. “Not yet. Not yet.” He leaned away again, running his hands down your body as he did.

You heaved in a breath as you dangled on the edge of your climax, then fell back again. 

“What’s it like, baby?” he asked, running his hands up your thighs and then back down again. “To just get there? And not have it?”

You only whimpered in reply, your entire body begging for him. He had you and he knew it. You would do anything for him now.

He slowly leaned back down, hovering over you until your mouths barely touched. “Apologize for teasing me.”

“I’m-I’m sorry for teasing you.”

You were rewarded by him guiding just the tip of his cock inside of you. You both groaned and shuddered at the burning pleasure, Freddie’s head dropping to your chest as he struggled for control. You writhed, trying to get him deeper, but he slapped a hand to your hip, stilling you instantly.

“God, Y/N, you drive me fucking crazy.”

“Freddie, baby, please-”

You both groaned as he pushed deeper inside of you, pushing slowly until he reached the hilt.  You shuddered and let yourself be taken over by the pleasure of having him inside of you. You clenched around him and he cursed. He suddenly reared up onto his knees and grabbed your hips, pulling you up off the bed. Pulling out of you, he slammed back in again. Soon, he took up a brutal pace, his hands digging hard into your hips, your body nearly completely off the bed.  All you could do was give yourself up to the sex, to what he was demanding from you.

The orgasm, when it came, was violent and overwhelming, robbing you of breath as it washed over every inch of you, stuttered your heart in your chest.

Freddie came with a curse his hips slamming into yours one last time before he collapsed on top of you, keeping his full weight braced on his arm. The two of you stayed like that for a long moment, struggling to catch your breath as your orgasms slowly faded. You felt Freddie’s hand cup your cheek and he turned it to face him.

“Okay?” he asked. You nodded in reply and pressed your mouth to his.

“If you think this is going to deter me from teasing you again, you are very wrong.”

He laughed, the sound so deep and husky you shivered with renewed arousal.

“I hope not.”

[smolbeandrabbles]

Music - Martin x Reader (Untogether)

@happyskywhale @wltz-bby​ #MendoTagSquad. GIF CREDIT: X

Sequel to I’ll Name The Dogs

Author’s Note: @mandy23b​ - For reference, I chose “the nearest surface in one of your apartments” 😏😏😏

This one feels like its been in the back of my head a very long time but just needed the right kind of push to put it onto paper! Or mix of ingredients... either way I found them all!

Here’s another pops up on shuffle when writing and immediately latch onto it song! (Until I had a last minute song change but decided to keep some of the original lyrics!) Music - Kelsea Ballerini Losing Sleep - Chris Young

Disclaimer: Nothing is mine but the writing and the reader (and the dog OC I suppose!)

Premise: ‘What’s the best record you’ve ever had sex to?’ An interesting question, with undoubtedly an interesting answer. Should Jake, Martin’s newly adopted puppy, allow you to test it for yourselves...

Words: 5155

Warnings: Swearing / Sexual Banter / Sinday/Sunday Smut

_____ Feels like the radio when your tires roll into my drive Then my heart stops, like a beat drop It's a symphony when you sweet talk Make this quiet town, feel electric, loud When the lights going down Every word out of your mouth Is like music When you look at me like that I lose it My name on your lips, wanna replay your kiss When I wake up, and lay down, and stay up and make out We're not saying nothing But it's feeling something like music Before I knew your love Even with the volume up, it was silent then And now you're walking in the room all kind of smooth, like a violin Everybody else is white noise So talk to me, cause your voice Is like music Your song on my skin is like Ah-ah-ah-ah So play it again just like Ah-ah-ah-ah Your song on my skin is like Ah-ah-ah-ah So play it again My whole heart's listening to your music ---     You know That I love you, let me show you We don't need to dream at all Baby so Fall into me Let me breathe the air you breathe I can take you anywhere you want to be When it comes to us Every single touch is something special... Yeah we're winning, we're losing When we're losing sleep --- You could already hear Jake’s excited barks as you pulled up to the front door of your boyfriend’s house. And yes, you did officially get to call him that now. Martin still came down to volunteer with you, and as frequently as before – so you were glad to see it wasn’t just your influence working there. You managed to keep it at least semi-professional, but it was also fairly obvious that you were a couple; and it was commented on often. Still, once other people working with you got wind that he was a painter – if they didn’t know already from seeing him work around here – his schedule was suddenly filled up with “Oh! Martin! Could you just do this!” and, given his charm, he got pretty well paid for it. Everyone loved him, and missed him when he wasn’t around almost as much as you did. It was all good for him, and you thought considering his previous relationship much needed. Also, as if the entire shelter wasn’t enamoured with Martin’s presence alone, last week he’d come jogging up to the counter and wanted to run a plan past you – “Do you think my band and I could throw a benefit concert-!?” “A what-?!” You raised an eyebrow, head tilted. “A benefit concert.” He indicated around, getting a little more excitable, “For the shelter-!” You only chuckled at that, “Martin, you’re such a babe!” Of course you thought it was a great idea, only that he should probably talk to the owner about it to get the go ahead. (No doubt she would say yes – but you were happy he was getting back to his music. You were happy to listen to him write every weekend if that’s what he wanted to do.) To which he grinned, and was about to sprint off to find her, before you pulled him back, leaning across the counter for a kiss. That was strategic, he’d only been here 30 seconds and already a couple of girls hanging around the front desk were making eyes at him. Martin’s enthusiasm only gained confidence with that, “Later Y/N!” You let him go with a smile and wave to match his; “Don’t forget there’s the big charity dog walk next week.” “Oh I know! “BYOD-!” He laughed, calling back as he ran through the reception door; “You know Jake is my secret weapon-!” That much was true. If it wasn’t everyone fussing over Martin, it was everyone fussing over Martin with Jake. You chuckled, leaning on your hands to watch him go; still in those tight white shirts, you could see those well-defined shoulder muscles and the curve of his back. You sighed gently and your eyes flicked to the girls still watching him – you couldn’t help your triumphant smirk, because it didn’t just happen here, you’d seen girls give him the same looks as you wandered hand in hand through town. An extraordinary thing to watch, in all honestly; you weren’t sure if you’d ever been with anyone that elicited that response. Martin had the look, and the style, and the attitude for it though – he never wanted the attention, but the way he was demanded it. Plus it shouldn’t surprise you, cute guy with a cute dog…? And he was yours now! You exited your car about the same time Martin opened his front door, and Jake scurried across his driveway; “Go get her!” Was said with a laugh “Oof! Okay, okay!! I missed you too!” You giggled, his paws up on your legs immediately, stooping to pet Jake before he ran back at Martin’s whistle, “How are my favourite trouble makers!” “A’right! Waiting impatiently for you!” He grinned, greeting you with a kiss, “You’re a little late.” “Ah! But the traffic was bad, and I brought treats.” “For me, or the dog!” “Uh, both of you!” You nudged Martin playfully at the very idea that you wouldn’t bring them both something. “Oooh! What are we so honoured with-!?” “Donuts!” “Fuck off-! Seriously-!? Did I ever tell you you’re the best!” He threw his arm around your shoulders, closing the door, “JAKE! We’re getting donuts!” Jake yapped excitedly as you walked through into the living room. “Coffee?” Martin enquired, as Jake tailed him through into the kitchen, leaving you to settle down and unbox everything, “That’d be nice, thank you.” “You’re welcome…!” He called. Then two seconds later, and more hushed, “Yes! Yes! I know! C’mere!” “Are we walking into town or--?” You barely finished your question before you were met with loud excitable barks, “Hush! Not yet! Calm down. Go sit with her. I know, it’s very exciting-!” Silence for a moment, “Go on, go sit with Y/N!” Then louder and to you, as Jake padded back through and sat up on the couch patiently waiting to be smothered in cuddles, “Don’t say that word-! He goes nuts!” “Noted!” You giggled, scratching Jake behind his ears, “He’s a good boy-!” Martin wandered back through, with a sigh, “He’s taking my spot!” You laughed as he set your coffee down and sat next to Jake, “Seriously, man, she’s my girlfriend – are you gonna be my wingman or cockblock me, we talked about this.” The puppy yelped and decided to lick Martin’s face instead, “Ah! Yeah-! Okay!” He chuckled, “I love ya too, bud! But it’s her I’m tryna kiss-!” You covered your mouth but couldn’t help your giggle, “Aw! He just wants love!” “He’d have you believe that I didn’t give him any!! Jake, c’mon, down!” He obeyed, earning a kiss from you; to which you of course received kisses back as you fussed him. With your attention fully on his dog Martin scoffed, folding his arms; “Oh my god, this is unbelievable!” You could only laugh again, then straightened up, “AH! But I love both of you!” “Trust me, he’ll take full advantage-! Jake, come here, sit.” Martin selected a treat as Jake obediently did so, “Good boy!” He held it out for Jake to take from him and petted his head, leaving Jake to wander off to his bed in the corner of the room. Martin beamed after him before kicking back on the sofa with a donut of his own; “AH! My girlfriend is the best, and so is my dog!” For a moment you regarded him, having just been the one complaining about Jake receiving all the attention, but decided to let it go with a roll of your eyes. You sat back with him, cuddling into his chest with your coffee, and watching Jake lie down quietly with his treat, before Martin wound one arm around you. “He is a good boy. You’ve done really well with him!” “Mhm…” Martin took a bite, “Mmm! These are good!” then swallowed, “He’s getting better. You make him too excitable, that’s my only problem.” You scoffed, “I think he has every right; he did get us together-!” Martin looked thoughtful as he ran a hand through your hair. “Yeah I’ll give him that.” Then turned to you with a smile. “However, maybe you’re giving him a little too much excitable energy about me-! They do say dogs are just like their owners!” Martin’s eyes narrowed slightly; “Are you saying it’s my fault!?” “I dunno, dog whisperer…” You took a sip of your coffee, “What’s your verdict?” His next bite was mused for a while, and he kept his eyes on you, “Well, damn, stopping him might be hard-!” Martin leant in, pulling you tight to him, kissing your face everywhere he could reach, whilst you giggled and tried to protest as best you could without spilling coffee all over him; “MARTIN! MARTIN! GET OFF!!!” Jake barked happily from the corner at the two of you laughing, which only made Martin laugh harder, and you thinking you had a case in point, before the two of you settled back into the couch together. Martin patted his lap and Jake bounded back to you, hopping up to lie on him. “Ah. See. What are we even going out for…?” Martin rubbed your back, “It was your idea!” Then you frowned, realising that beyond walking somewhere, there was no concreate plan that you knew of, “Actually, yeah babe, what did you have in mind?” “Oh…” Martin took his hand in yours lacing your fingers, before kissing them, and held the back of your hand to his lips whilst he thought, “There’s a little record shop I always wanted to take you to, even before we were together… I thought we could go buy some records?” “To listen to together?” “Mhm….” He looked back to you with those big blue eyes – puppy dog eyes if ever you’d seen them. Aw, Geez, they really are as bad as each other! “How far is it?” You nodded back to Jake – he had done extremely well, and you knew that Martin was also taking him to training classes. You knew they were helping each other out, and that only made you beam more. “It’s uh… a decent W A L K… He can’t go in, that’s the only problem, but then we can find a nice outdoor café… or park he might like-” You very nearly rolled your eyes at the phonetic spelling but noticed that Jakes ears did perk up instantly at both words “-Then we can come home. Should wear him out. He’ll enjoy not being around the same block or route too, I think.” “Okay…” You cuddled back into Martin for a moment, and he rested his head on yours, “Just let me enjoy time with my boys whilst I finish my coffee-!” Martin laughed; “Y/N! We are literally gonna hang out all day!” *** You were pleased to see that Jake was walking nicely, either at Martin’s heels, or between the two of you – to which you received a knowing look – but he rarely tangled his lead. Martin supposed the only habit he did have was running off to investigate things and sometimes whilst doing that he would pull, but Jake was still a puppy and Martin knew he’d grow out of the yanking – but he’d always be curious, some dogs just were. You made the record store in good time, and Martin found some shade to tie him up in, kneeling down; “Alright Jake, you be a good boy okay, we’re not gonna be long I promise. Sit and be a good boy for me.” Jake did so, tail wagging obediently, and Martin gave him a treat, “That’s my boy!” Then took your hand, “I mean maybe we can trail run this and think about coming back, I…” “Hush…” You kissed his cheek gently, “You’re a sweetie and you care about him, we don’t have to spend hours in the store and we can always come back, don’t worry about it.” Pink dusted Martin’s cheeks, “Well, let’s see how we do right now, huh?” as far as he knew you might have hated the store and never wanted to come back! Martin’s arm curved around your hip and you nodded, reaching out to pat Jake’s head goodbye; “Let’s go!” It was a tiny store, and you’d describe it as cramped, but it worked with the whole aesthetic, and every shelf was neatly arranged. Everything was very easy to find. Although you’d entered together, Martin and you perused the shelves alone. You weren’t sure what you were really looking for, but there was a lot of rare material in here, ranging from the plain obscure to new top 40 records in vinyl form – it was certainly making a comeback. Breathing new life into niche stores like this. As you kept flicking through the records you suddenly smirked, and slid one out, flipping it over to the track listing, biting your lip your smirk became a sly grin. “Hey, Martin!” “Mhm?” He turned back to you from the other side of the store, expression almost unreadable at the mischievous look on your own face. “What’s the best record you’ve ever had sex to?!” Your guess would be something very obscure and Australian – you knew his music taste by now. But you’d let him answer. He immediately spluttered, before laughing; “Well, what’s yours!?” “You’re not gonna answer me-!?” Martin shook his head, still laughing, “Oh God! I can’t believe you-” You flipped the record back to show him the cover, “Woah, fuck, really-!?” “Yeah - you have no idea…” He raised an eyebrow, impressed, “Okay… let me see if I can find… mine…” He pondered around the stacks for a minute, before thumbing through a couple, “AHA. Bingo.” Pulling one out and turning it to you, You couldn’t help but be a little surprised, and laughed, “Oh my god you’re such a cliché!” “OH come onnnnnnnn!” He very nearly whined, but was about to explain why it was undeniable, “This voice? – Baby, you need to try it!” You bit your lip through your smile again, the movement of your head daring him to say it. Martin caught on, and suddenly his smirk became wicked; “Well, should I get it and should we test it out!?” You were cackling before he even pointed to yours, “I don’t mind testing twice!” You left the store two records heavier, but not another word passed between you about it. Although a multitude of giggles did – before Jake started barking like he hadn’t seen either of you in years. “Oh God-! Okay, we’re back!” Martin untied his leash, “Come on, let’s find you a nice park, huh?” He barked again, paws up on Martin’s thighs and pawing at his jeans, “Yes, puppy I know! I know!” He held his hand out for yours and you laced your fingers together, before he pulled you in. Looping his arm around your shoulders, Martin kissed your forehead, “Let’s go-!” *** It was a few more weeks before you actually got to test the records out, but Martin had them balanced on top of his player ever since he’d got home. You were sitting on top of his kitchen counter, listening intently to his record of choice and deciding that cliché didn’t even cover it. Still, it was nice to watch Martin dance around the kitchen making coffee and sing softly to it. You could listen to him sing all day, and often asked him to sing a little louder when he was trying to sing under his breath. ‘Well I don’t wanna bother anyone!!’ ‘Are you KIDDING-!? With your voice-!?’ - this was a popular conversation track when you volunteered together. Nothing really changed. By now you’d been bestowed a key to his house, and you’d been here a little while longer than he had, hanging with Jake. Martin had been out painting all morning, but his afternoon was clear, and he was back. Paint covered pants and all, one clean white stripe across his left cheek that you couldn’t take your eyes off – and he’d allowed you to put a record on, as celebration of his return, whilst he made himself a coffee. The usual small talk passed between you as you sipped your own drink. You couldn’t help your eyes tracing his body – those damn tight white shirts were about to drive you insane and this one seemed even tighter than usual, allowing you to see the outline of the necklace he always wore but you’d never seen, his hair was still a little mussed from being tousled by the wind, he had a soft smile on his face and his eyes were brightly accented by the sunshine streaming in through the window. Ugh; it was almost painful. Martin turned to you, and your look was inescapable – he titled his head inquisitively, “What?” You blinked slowly, taking another sip, and whether it was the music, or you wanted to confess, or just a mistake, you ended up spilling those words from your lips “I just… I’ve always thought you looked really sexy in those pants - especially with paint all over them, and I mean, oh my god can that shirt get any tighter!?” You weren’t sure if Martin was looking at you like that because it was sinking in, or whether he was making sure you knew what you’d just said. He glanced quickly to his record player, and then smirked; sidling over to you he took one more sip of coffee before setting it down behind you, pushing his body between your legs; “Well, I could always just take it off?” His voice was low, and he placed his hands on your thighs. Blush set in on your cheeks and that immediately had Martin grinning again, his eyes looked between yours, before he leant in to kiss you. You couldn’t help but very nearly throw your drink down, grabbing fistfuls of his shirt to pull him closer. His hands moved from your thighs to your back quickly, and he slid your body over the counter to get your hips against his. You groaned gently into his kiss - despite knowing it was on purpose - and you instinctively ground against him, running your hands into his hair, arms tight around his shoulders, legs winding around his waist. Martin bit your lip; kisses fervent and a little on the rough side, releasing you to trail them down your jawline and neck. That only made you grip him tighter and sigh for every kiss he planted. Your breaths were already shallow and as you inhaled, all you could smell was his skin; clean sweat, fresh wood and paint, the warmth of summer changing into autumn – and as Martin worked his way back to your lips you couldn’t help but smile again at that streak of paint. “What?” You brushed your lips to his, and your fingers over it; “I think you missed a spot.” “There’s paint on my face?” “Mhm.” He grinned, “Well, that can’t be helped. Is it as sexy as the paint on my pants-!?” You laughed, “Why don’t you kiss me again and find out?” “Oh?” Martin wasn’t about to refuse you that and once again those kisses were fiery; and you wondered why the hell you’d never made-out like this before now. He tasted like coffee and chocolate, faint traces of mint lingered – either from brushing his teeth or the gum he kept in his car for ‘emergencies’; you weren’t sure what he meant by that, but you did know that if you ever asked for any the answer was “NO.” This time you nipped his lip, hands wandering under his shirt and up his back, sure he’d said ‘I’ but why couldn’t you take it off? He growled against your kiss, and in response his hands slid up under your skirt. You came to the realisation that your joke about testing the records out was about to become reality, and you suddenly wished you’d said something about how fucking sexy he was in paint flecked overalls a long time ago. There was a small yap from behind you and you broke apart slowly, making Martin sigh and turn around. You had to tilt your body to see Jake sitting a few steps behind you, eyes wide, looking at you both with nothing but love. Martin looked back to you; “Can you believe this-!? I told you!” You giggled, “Okay, I think now I believe you.” Then again you did remember his comment about cockblocking and almost snorted. Martin gave you a short, chaste kiss and left your legs – the absence of his body nearly had you whining. “No, bud, seriously, I love you but not now!” Stepping around him, Martin walked over and opened the back door. “OH! That’s so MEAN!!” “C’mon Jake, get some exercise outside, boy, c’mon!” Jake just stared at him, making you begin cackling again. Martin placed his hands on his hips; “No, seriously, outside! C’mon, c’mere!” He opened the treat box and Jake was immediately on his feet, “Come on-” Martin stepped out and you heard him run off the decking and onto the back lawn, making Jake bark happily and chase him outside, before you heard; “Good boy! Go get it!” Five seconds later Martin was back and had the back door shut and locked, you were still laughing, “You’re so bad-!” “Oh! You think that’s funny-!?” “It kinda is-!” Martin tsked, “Well, if he lets us get away with this, I’m sure he can have as many rewards as he wants.” “Get away with this?” You were still amused as he cupped your face in his hands and kissed you again, harder this time. Your legs pulled him back to you, and your hands were running to his button and zipper rather than bothering with his shirt this time. “You took my offer to test this records out a little too literally, huh, Y/N?” His voice was husky and it drew a shiver delightfully down your spine. “You’re the one who said get away with this.” You smirked, tugging him back to your lips again until you were breathless, his hands back under your skirt and pulling your panties down your legs; “Don’t act like you don’t want it.” “Mmm…” Martin went for your neck again, voice low and growling in your ear once more, “I don’t think you realise how long I’ve wanted it.” That did make you blush, and for a minute you pulled away from him, and suddenly he softened, “…Oh…Oh! I- I’m sorry.” Your mouth was still open a little in shock, and you gasped; “MARTIN! Why didn’t you just say so!!” He laughed, pushing your skirt further up your thighs, and placing your hands back on the opening of his pants you kissed his neck; “Well I just did, didn’t I?!” Martin didn’t have to say more than that for you to shimmy his pants off his hips, as yours hit the floor, before you pulled him closer, hand slipping into his boxers as his tongue slipped back into your mouth. Martin groaned softly as you wrapped your hand around him, moving your fingertips teasingly he released you from his kisses. Hands either side of you he bit his lip, his back bent, body leaning into you – and you didn’t think it fair that your vocalist wasn’t about to be very vocal. You started to pump him, nice and slow, and you got to smirk as you watched the tension through his arms. Martin tried to hide that, lips to your neck again – but his kisses were messy at best, and as your thumb circled the tip he did shudder, and he finally elicited the growl you wanted to hear – reverberating wonderfully against your skin - as his hips jerked against the motion. You couldn’t help your tease of; “Good boy.” and the shot of confidence you felt at the way his cheeks flushed red. You picked up the pace, expertly sliding his boxers down his legs as you did so, giving him a groan of your own. Fuck, was this man built well. You were well aware of the pool of heat now throbbing between your legs – and moaned again as your imagination ran wild. God you wanted him so bad, and Martin needn’t have told you he did – you could see that. His hips jerked again, and this time Martin cursed – and the growl of your name made you grip him a little too hard. “FUCK-! Y/N-!” Both of you shuddered suddenly, and he took to opportunity to gain control again – hands in your hair as his lips caught yours. Tipping your body back meant you had to release him and steady yourself against his counter with a gasp. But he ground his hips into yours, this time deliberately, and it was almost unbearable; the flash of ecstasy making you whimper his name.

This time Martin smirked, he could feel just how wet you were and he didn’t see the point in denying either of you what you wanted the most. Snaking his hand between your bodies he slid one finger tentatively into you, you moaned against his lips again, this time your fingers tangling in his shirt, gripping him so tight he could feel your fingernails digging into his skin. “That’s it, baby…” He murmured, grazing his lips across your cheeks as you buried your face in his chest to suppress your moans – to no avail, of course, and Martin chuckled, because all he wanted was to hear you. You pushed against his body in an attempt to escape his fingers; the pleasure was intense and you didn’t want to climax for him too early; but he’d inserted a second finger and his thumb was now paying close attention to your clit; “Oh-! God. M-Martin-!” He chuckled, “Don’t worry, Y/N, I want you just as bad…” Your hands released the back of his shirt, only to yank him into another hot and heavy kiss by the front of it, less talk more action. Your next sentence was both demanding and breathless; “God, I am begging you! Fuck me to this album on your kitchen counter, or so help me! Martin!” He raised his eyebrows with a smirk, “I thought you’d never ask!” In one quick movement, he withdrew his fingers and pushed into you. You both immediately groaned at the feeling, and your legs latched around him again – you had a feeling you had used the right word; this was about to get very messy, very quickly. Neither of you were going to last very long, but it was gonna feel SO good. Martin kept good pace; fingers gripping your hips so hard you thought he was bound to leave marks, but your body was already singing – and when your lips weren’t locked with his, you were eliciting the most gorgeous little sighs; Martin got to keep all of those to himself. You got to give yourself a little ego boost, thinking of all the girls you’d seen staring at him who wished they’d get anywhere near close to doing this. “AH-!” Your legs tightened around him, moving him closer as every thrust pushed him deeper into you, and he hit your sweet-spot, “Yes-! Martin! Oh! Baby, don’t stop! Please!” He almost told you he had no intention of doing so; opting to nip the top of your ear instead, which sent another shock to your system – senses on overdrive. Your muscles continued to clench around him, and as you got tighter his breaths got shorter; because damn did you feel good. “Y/N-!” he panted it, and more than once – sure, he’d had sex plenty of times before this (and to this album, but not recently!), yet he wasn’t sure the last time it’d felt this good. Not to be so complete with someone – no matter how quick this was going to be. Martin could already feel the beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, and your sighs were getting short and sharp – but he wanted you to finish together. He gathered your hands in his, squeezing tight as he threaded your fingers together. “Martin- I-!” He nodded, because he also knew that much just from the feel of you; “Uh huh-!” And so you came together – and you were right, it was hot and heavy. Your breathing was shallow and you had to fight yourself panting too hard, as your body relaxed. Every point of you feeling that ecstatic high. He pushed his forehead to yours gently, breathing just as hard, and not wanting to lose that contact; his body shook and Martin very nearly laughed, before kissing you again – sweet and gentle. “Y/N… I… Geez, I love you, babe.” You could swear that the fact that you felt tears spiking was to do with your high and not his love confession but who knew, in all honesty. “Oh, oh Martin! Baby, I love you too!” You pulled him back to you, for a kiss even sweeter, before pressing a tender one to his forehead and wrapping your arms around him. “Are you cryin’?” He teased, and you could almost have punched him for it. “NO! I’m happy-!” But Martin laughed, his hands rubbing your back soothingly as you nestled your head into the crook of his neck, regulating your breathing once more. He hummed softly to the record again for a few minutes, as you carded your fingers through his hair sitting there in blissful silence, then grinned; “You know, we still have a whole other album left over there, if you wanna go again…” You snorted, still catching your breath, “Oh god, will you at least give me until the end of this one-!?” Then you sat back, unravelling yourself from him; “…Why waste it all at once?” “I suppose you have a point,” He kissed you again, pulling his coffee back from behind you; surprisingly no one had knocked it and spilled it all over the counter. Martin took a sip and put it down again. “Mhm, warm enough.”  Sliding it away from himself he added, “Well worth wasting a cup of coffee for.” “Gee thank-” You paused and fell silent, catching a glimpse of the back door over his shoulder and instantly freezing. “What?” He half turned, still between your legs; “OH. Shit.” He covered his eyes for a moment – of course, sitting there obediently waiting to be let back in, with his tail wagging, was Jake “You don’t think he…” Martin couldn’t finish the sentence without and embarrassed chuckle, “Oh, okay – I’m not living this down.” “Well he can’t remind you of it – you got that in your favour.” “No, but YOU probably will-!” You held your hands up to protest innocence; “I’m party to it, why would I-!?” He shot you a look, swivelling around and then promptly tripping on his pants, now halfway down his legs. Martin steadied himself and you couldn’t help but giggle, he scowled, bending over to pull then up and you bit your lip through your smirk, unable to resist. “You know, again, maybe you just wear really nice figure hugging jeans but – damn you have a nice ass.”  Then Martin tripped again over his own feet, waiting a few seconds for you to get your giggles out, before turning; “You are privileged to see it-!” “No doubt-!” You grinned, but Martin strode back across his kitchen to you, gathering your panties from the floor as he did so, before giving you another harsh kiss – you groaned again, not quite as down from your high as you thought. His blue eyes were intense, but mischievous as he pulled back, and his smile triumphant; “Thought I could shut you up!” “You should be so lucky to hear my voice!” You gave as good as you got, shimmying your underwear back up your legs. “Ah, now that I do know.” Martin smirked, kissing you once more before stepping away from the counter, “Especially when it’s sighing my name like that.” This time you did blush; “Oh! Shut up and let your poor dog in!” --- Thank you for reading-! 😘💙

[myhockeyworld87]

Nervous Regrets -Tyler Seguin _ Part 21

Word Count: 3737

POV: Reader

Warnings: Language, because I think that I least use one cuss word a story

Notes: We’re prepping for the big proposal guys! Hope you enjoy! Peace, Love and Hugs all!

The decision to leave your job, ended up being one of the best you ever made; you realized this over the next couple of days. You tried to keep up a normal routine. So some mornings when Tyler would get up and workout; you’d get up and join him, by doing yoga. Other mornings, you didn’t mind cuddling with the dogs while he went to morning skate. Tyler convinced you, that you didn’t need to start looking into new charities until he was on the road again. In fact, his exact words were something like, ‘as your new boss, I’m making your working hours, only when I’m on road trips.’ You literally just shook your head at him and laughed, to which he chased you around the house until he caught you carried you off to bed where you showed him who the real boss of the family was.

 It was like that pretty much everyday, while he was home. By day four you’d christened every room in the new house, some of them twice. On day five, the two of you decided to actually head out in public and start doing some shopping for the baby’s room. The designer had given you some great ideas for the room, so you knew that you wanted it to be in shades of grey and white. That way once you found out if it was a boy or a girl you could add in pinks or blues for pops of color. The hardest decision was picking out either a grey or white crib, but in the end Tyler won out with the white he said you had to have. The two of you spent the whole day buying furniture and necessities for the baby. It was definitely going to go down as one of the best days you’d had in a long time.

 Tyler insisted upon purchasing a huge stuffed puppy for the room, as well as several other animals. But you drew the line when he started trying out the breast pumps; finally calling it a day before he started trying out pacifiers or diaper genies. You’d save that for another time. All in all, the two of you got a good chunk of the baby’s room done in your day of shopping. You had a definite picture of what the room would look like when you brought your little one home.

 The following day, you were standing in the baby’s room, picturing how everything would be laid out when your phone rang. “Hey mom, how was your trip?” She spent the next several minutes telling you all about Alaska and how much your dad loved going fishing. Though she threw you for a loop when she mentioned they weren’t going to be having Thanksgiving at the house this year. Apparently, your brother Sean decided to host, but he lived down in Houston; which meant that if you and Tyler decided to go, you’d spend more time driving there and back then you would with your family. Besides, Tyler’s schedule really wouldn’t allow for you to make the journey anyway, as he would be getting back in from Pittsburgh late the night before, then had a game the following day. It was kind of disheartening, you’d hoped to see your parents over the holiday or even host the dinner yourself; since you and Tyler were in the new house, but it wasn’t meant to be. Which is why Tyler found you in the baby’s room, crying.

 “Baby, what’s wrong?” He asked, as he drew your body into his. When you didn’t answer right away, he tried again. “Why are you crying (Y/N)? Is it the baby?” You shook your head no, and held onto him a little tighter.

 “I don’t know.” You sniffed rather loudly. “I just found out my family is going to Sean’s for Thanksgiving.”

 “And you thought, they’d be here this year.” Nodding yes, you buried your head back into his chest. “Well why don’t you go down and be with them baby.”

 Pulling back, you looked at him as if he’d gone crazy. “I’m not leaving you for the holiday. Besides, isn’t your family coming in?”

 He looked a little sheepish. “Umm...well actually no they aren’t going to make it either.”

 “But Cass and Candace are coming tomorrow aren’t they?”

 “They are, but they’re only staying for a few days; then heading back home.” Tears started to flow down your cheeks again. It wasn’t that you minded spending the holiday alone with Tyler, it was just going to be your first holiday together and you wanted both of your families with you. “I didn’t think it was that big of a deal babe. Maybe I can call my mom and see if they can make it.” His face took on a guilty look, but you couldn’t figure out why.

 “No, I don’t want them to change their plans. It’s just my stupid hormones. I suppose we can just have chicken or something.” It wouldn’t be the same as a turkey but you’d make it work.

 He pulled you back into him. “Awe sweetheart, we can still have turkey. I’ll eat the whole damn bird if you want.” That made you laugh. Sadly, you could picture Tyler stuffing himself trying to make you happy. “Actually, I have a great idea. I’m sure some of the guys don’t have any plans or family coming in. We could host Thanksgiving for them.” Before you could agree to anything he continued. “Hear me out, I don’t want you in the kitchen cooking all day; so we could cater it or something.”

 “But I want to cook. We don’t need to have food brought in. I’ll have a couple days to get everything ready while you’re on the road. It will be perfect.”

 “Babe, that’s a lot to undertake. Remember you’re pregnant.”

 You looked down at your growing belly. “Kinda hard to forget.” A chuckle escaped your throat. “It will be fine, remember I’m unemployed at the moment.”

 “You’re not unemployed.” He protested. “You have the best boss in the world, who is very flexible with your hours.” His hands started to wander all over your body and he started to pepper you with kisses. “In fact, I do believe he told you not to start working right away. So, maybe we should head back to bed.”

 He kissed the sensitive skin between your neck and shoulder, and you felt your body relax. “Is this sexual harassment?” Tyler murmured something you couldn’t comprehend as he continued to trail kisses up your neck. “If that was a yes, then I could get used to it.” He picked you up and carried you off to your bedroom, for some reason Tyler had declared the baby’s room off limits, when it came to your sexual escapades. The two of you spent the rest of the day alternating between lounging around the house and making love. You had to admit, that this part of your new job was definitely a perk.

 While Tyler, was at the rink for practice; you headed off to the airport the next morning to meet his sisters. The three of you quickly hugged in the pick-up line, then threw the luggage in the car before heading back to the house. “I can’t believe how great you look (Y/N).” Candace remarked. “Your little bump is so adorable.”

 “You’re way too sweet, because somedays this little one doesn’t seem small by any means.”

 “Oh please, you barely look pregnant. I think I’ve had a food baby bigger than your actual child.” Cassidy chimed in, causing you all to laugh.

 “I’m so excited you guys are finally visiting us in the new place. I wish your mom could’ve joined you.” They exchanged a weird look with one another, which you wouldn’t have caught had you not been looking in the rearview mirror to switch lanes. You let it slide, figuring they would let you know if something was wrong.

 “She wanted to come, but just couldn’t get away.”

 It was Candace who answered you. “Well hopefully she’ll make it here soon, if not I’m sure you’ll all be here for Christmas.” Both of the girls nodded agreement. “I was hoping that you guys would make it for Thanksgiving as well, but Tyler said you guys had other plans.” Again, a strange look passed between them, there was definitely something going on that you didn’t know about.

 “It’s just…” Candace started to say, right before Cassidy blurted out.

 “We’re not American.”

 “What does that have to do with it?” Came tumbling out of your mouth before you even had a chance to think about what you were saying. Candace fully turned around and glared at Cassidy in the backseat, which gave you a moment to recover. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to question you on that. I’m sure you guys have more important things going on.”

 It was Cassidy who decided to expand on her initial answer. “Don’t apologize, it was a stupid answer. You can obviously tell that we’re trying to hide something.” Again Candace gave her the death glare. “Candace doesn’t want me to tell you, but…and promise you won’t tell Tyler.” She was waiting for you to respond.

 “Of course, I won’t say a word.” “Candace has a new boyfriend, and she wants to spend time with him.”

 “Cassidy!” She yelled back at her sister.

 “She’s afraid Tyler’s going to go all ape shit or something and not approve of him. Which is why we were being so secretive about everything.”

 “Well, I’m not going to say a word to him; though you know he only wants you both to be happy.” While you were certain he would totally give this guy a hard time, if Candace liked him, Tyler would as well. “So tell me more about this guy. Is it serious?”

 “It’s really…new. In fact, it’s so new…I don’t want to jinx it or anything.” Candace answered you hesitantly. You didn’t want to prod too much, she obviously seemed nervous about it. Making a mental note, you wanted to make sure you told Tyler not to give her a hard time if the conversation came up.

 “Well if you ever want to talk about him, I’m all ears.” They quickly changed the subject back to the baby, as the three of you continued the trek back to the house.

 Tyler was waiting for you, when you got there. He literally started to give them a hard time the minute they walked through the door, but it was just that brotherly, sisterly comradery that you shared with your siblings as well. Though he did give you a funny look when you hit him on the shoulder, when he asked about their love lives. It felt odd giving them a tour of the house, but since this was their first time here it was kind of expected.

 You were all relaxing in the living room, having an easy conversation before Tyler had to leave for the game. “Hey babe, I forgot to tell you the Stars Foundation is having a gala on December 4th , that we need to attend.”

 “I thought they only did Boots and Blades? And didn’t they just have that?”

 “Umm…Yeah they did. This is a new one they’re having this year. Something about Fire and Ice. It’s super fancy, apparently.”

 Great, you were several months pregnant and now you needed to attend some gala and try and look like a million bucks. “Can we just skip it? I don’t really have anything elaborate to wear that’s going to fit me at the moment. Besides, the foundation never called me to help with anything for it; so it must not be super important.”

 Tyler’s eyes got extremely wide, and he seemed at a loss for words. “We could go shopping tomorrow and find you something.” Cassidy said filling the void.

 Tyler nodded his head in agreement. “That’s a great idea Cass.” He pulled out his wallet and scrambled through it finding his credit card and handing it over to you. “Buy the works. I want you to look amazing.”

 “I’m not going to look amazing in anything. We missed Boots and Blades and it was fine. Seriously, I don’t think anyone will notice our absence.”

 “Babe, I was able to get out of the other one because of the accident; but I don’t think there’s any way I can miss this second one.”

 “Besides, we’ll totally have fun shopping for a gown for you.” Candace added.

 “A gown?” Either your brain wasn’t processing things fast enough, or you were still in denial about having to go to this event; for it didn’t occur to you that you’d need an actual long gown and not just a really nice dress.

 “Babe, it’s a gala; of course you need a gown.” It wasn’t that you had an aversion to dressing up; in fact you usually enjoyed it. It was just lately you hadn’t felt like all dolled up. “Come on (Y/N) it’ll be fun.” He grabbed your hand and gave you those puppy dog eyes, which you couldn’t resist. “And don’t tell me you won’t look beautiful, you already know how gorgeous I think you are.”

 “Ugh…fine. Though I hope you girls are ready to shop tomorrow; because I have a feeling it’ll take a miracle to find something.”

 “Oh stop! You’re barely showing, I’m sure we’ll find you a stunning gown to wear.” It was Candace who was giving you a little boost of confidence; that you definitely needed to hear.

 “Well now that that’s settled. I’m going to go get ready for the game.” He kissed you quick before getting up and heading to your bedroom. The three of you sat around laughing and joking until game time, then headed to the arena to watch Tyler play. The game against the Blue Jackets was hard fought, and in the end it was a tough loss for the Stars. Thankfully Tyler was in a good mood though as you all headed out for a late dinner and drinks, before calling it a night.

 The next day you tried to convince Tyler to come shopping with you and his sisters, but he was having no parts of it; even though he was the reason you needed the gown in the first place. He claimed that he had a ton of errands to do, though he couldn’t name one of them when you asked. It seemed weird that he didn’t want to spend time with his sisters.

 At the first store, it seemed like every gown was form fitting; which accentuated your baby bump in the worst way. Though Candace and Cassidy insisted it was all the trend, if you saw any celebrity that was currently pregnant. You knew they were right, but when you looked in the mirror you didn’t feel glamourous, you just felt…well there was no other word for it but fat. Which you knew deep down you weren’t. In the second shop, you thought you found the winner. A black capped sleeve dress with an empire waist, which totally made you look not pregnant at all. However, when you stepped out of the dressing room, both Candace and Cassidy gave it two thumbs down; so back to the drawing board you went. Cassidy brought you in a white strapless A-line gown, that felt more bridal than gala when you tried it on, though the A-line still did seem to flatter your figure. Truth be told, when you looked in the mirror you could totally see yourself walking down the aisle to Tyler in this dress, but you weren’t quite sure your relationship was ready for that step yet. So when you showed it to them you said. “I feel like I’m supposed to get married to Tyler in this, not go to some foundation event. Besides, I’m not sure we’re ready for that step just yet.” They both looked at each other curiously before agreeing that this wasn’t the dress.

 There were pale pink ones that made your complexion look a little sallow, a dark navy one that made you feel more like a pregnant seductress than the girlfriend of a hockey player; and even a bright yellow one, that once you tried it on, you knew sun yellow was not your color. You were just about to declare the day a disaster when the owner of the shop came back with a beautiful silver sparkling gown. It fit like a glove when you tried it on, and barely showed that you were carrying a baby inside you. It was the A-line design that favored your body, set off with a deep plunging bodice. Spaghetti straps crisscrossed behind you to reveal an open back. Jewels and crystals adorn the entire dress, and made you feel as if you were glowing as beams of light from overhead struck you. The multi-layered skirt with its sparkle, flowed freely as you turned. As you gave a twirl in the mirror, you almost felt like a princess. This had to be the one, but you wanted Tyler’s sisters opinions on it as well.

 The smiles on their faces gave away their feelings about the dress, as you walked out. “Oh that’s definitely it.” Candace exclaimed.

 “Oh my god, you look stunning. You have to get that one.” Cassidy added.

 “You don’t think it’s too much with all the sparkle?”

 “No! It’s perfect!” They both said.

 “You guys aren’t just saying that because I’ve tried on a million dresses already?”

 It was Candace, who always seemed to be the voice of reason that answered. “First off, you can go try on another million if you want, because this is actually a lot of fun. Secondly, this dress is simply amazing on you. I honestly will probably borrow it from you if I’m lucky enough to get asked to an event to wear it to. You look like a Disney princess.”

 A blush rose to your cheeks. “I thought the same thing in the dressing room.”

 “Tyler is going to love it.” Cassidy added. “Though I don’t think we should show him. You need to do a big reveal or something.” “Oh Cass is right, you totally need to do that.” She stepped up beside you, suddenly fussing with your hair. She pulled back several strands, then swept some off to the side. “There you should totally wear your hair like that, with soft curls all around.”

 The reflection in the mirror was almost unrecognizable, between the dress and your hair; you truly felt like another person. “Now if you were only going to be here to fix it like that.”

 She frowned slightly, before adding. “You can always go to that salon we go to for facials and stuff.”

 “Oh I almost forgot, I made us all appointments there for tomorrow. My treat of course, for putting up with me today.”

 “Please, it’s not like we have to put up with you. You’re like the sister I always wanted.”

 Candace swatted Cassidy on the shoulder. “Hello, I’m right here. You know the sister you have.” All of you were laughing at this point.

 “Oh I know. I said (Y/N) was the sister I wanted.” With that she ran out of the dressing room into the store so Candace wouldn’t attack her again.

 “She’s a little shit sometimes but I love her all the same.” You knew how she felt, for you too felt that way about your own brothers. “Though I gotta say I can’t wait till you’re officially my sister.”

 You felt yourself tearing up a bit, for you loved both Candace and Cassidy just like they were your own sisters. “Well that might not be for a while. Especially with this little one coming. We might be doing things a little backwards, but at least we’re taking our time and making sure things are right.”

 “You never know, maybe it’ll be sooner than you think.” Candace had a twinkle in her eye, as if she knew something you didn’t, but you were pretty sure you and Tyler were on the same page when it came to waiting.  

 Eventually, you took the dress off and paid for it; then the three of you headed to some other shops, where, as per Tyler’s wishes, you bought a few things the girls liked.  Then headed home, so that you could all enjoy a meal together. The last two days with Tyler flew by and before you knew, he was back on the road again. At least this time Candace and Cassidy stayed a couple extra days to fill the void. By the time they left, it gave you two days to get Thanksgiving dinner ready. It was an easy decision to bake all the pies and desserts first, and then move on to all the rest. There would be about twenty of the players, along with their significant others coming over for dinner. You decided to get two of the largest turkey’s you could find, roasting one of them early so that you would have oven space the day of. Your mom had used the technique numerous times over the years, and people always seemed to never notice.

 When Tyler came home from Pittsburgh, in the wee hours of the morning, most of the dinner was prepared. He couldn’t believe all that you’d done in the short amount of time. It was about noon when everyone started to arrive. Tyler had got a few hours of sleep, but insisted on helping you in the kitchen as much as he could. The booze flowed freely all afternoon, as they watched football and talked about everything under the sun.

 As you sat at the table, an enormous feast in front of you, two things struck you about family. The first being that it wasn’t the celebration you thought you’d have with your family. The second, was that sometimes you find family in other places. For as you looked at all the people surrounding you it was like your own little hockey family. In their faces you saw not only friends, but people who would become aunts and uncles to the little one you carried. Everything seemed right in that moment, and you hoped that it would stay that way forever.

[imaginetonyandbucky]

Tony Stark’s Guide to Being a Functional Adult

Step 3: Get a Job (AO3)

The next morning Bucky came into the kitchen for breakfast and made a face at the funky smell.  He found Tony was sitting at the table, determinedly eating his way through what looked and smelled like burnt, rubbery eggs.

“Breakfast mishap?” Bucky said, smothering a smile as he went to the pantry for cereal.

“Yeah,” Tony sighed, poking at the eggs.

“If you would like someone to show you around the kitchen, I can,” Bucky said as grabbed a bowl from the cabinets. “I used to make breakfast for my sister all the time.”

Tony washed down the eggs with a large swallow of coffee.  “I used to sit with Jarvis in the kitchen while he cooked, so I thought I knew what I was doing.  Turns out it’s a lot harder than it looks.”

“Try doing it one handed,” Bucky joked without thinking, and winced.  He snuck a glance at Tony but Tony was just looking mournfully down at his plate.  He’d been waiting for Tony to say something about his missing arm, to at least ask, and waiting for the inevitable awkward questions was making him anxious. 

“I couldn’t even crack the eggs right, I know you should be at least able to do that one handed.”  Bucky looked in the trash can and sure enough, there were a handful of destroyed eggs along with a ridiculous amount of paper towels.

“You’ll get the hang of it.”  He sat down at the table with his bowl and smiled at Tony’s downturned mouth as he gazed covetously at Bucky’s breakfast.

With a sigh, Tony managed to force down the last bite of eggs and pushed his plate away.  “Speaking of fixing things,” he said, clearing his throat and fiddling with his fork. “I don’t suppose you need any help in your garage?”

“You got experience working on cars?” Bucky said in surprise.  Nothing about Tony screamed “blue collar” much less “grease monkey,” but he should know better than to judge people by their looks.

“Not professionally, but I’ve been working on my dad’s cars for years.”  Tony must have realized that he was fidgeting because he flattened his palms on the table and met Bucky’s eyes.  “I know we just met, but I was thinking if you just let me show you what I can do…you know what, I’m sorry,” he said, pushing back from the table and standing. “It was a dumb idea, you’ve already helped me enough-”

“No, stop,” Bucky said, grabbing Tony’s hand before he could turn away.  “It’s not a dumb idea.  There are jobs that I can’t take because of, you know, my arm, so I could probably use another pair of hands. One whole pair of hands.  You know what I mean.” He let go of Tony and ran his hand over the back of his neck.  “Just come down whenever, or I can just get you when I have something for you to do.”

“Great!” Tony brightened like Bucky just made his day, and for some stupid reason Bucky felt himself blush so he turned back to his cereal and hoped Tony didn’t notice.  “I’ll just grab my laptop and come downstairs in a little while.”

“Sure, sounds good,” Bucky said in what he hoped was an offhand manner and prayed that this wouldn’t turn out to be a really dumb idea.

(More after the break!)

Bucky’s business was not what you would call ‘booming’ these days; having to do everything one-handed made him slow and limited the types of repairs he could do, and most of the people in the neighborhood already knew that by now.  He had one guy come by to change out his battery, which he suspected was more of a charity thing than anything else, and a couple of people came in for inspections.  Bucky was about to apologize to Tony for wasting his day when a guy in a suit came striding up his driveway, shouting into his cell phone.

“Hold on a second,” he said to the person on the other line, and muted the call to speak to Bucky.  “You’re a mechanic, right?  My car started making this ticking sound on the highway and when I got off on the exit, it just shut off at the intersection.”

“What kind of car is it?” Bucky was pretty sure he wasn’t going to be able to help this guy because it sounded like a fuel pump problem, but it was worth a shot.

“It’s a 2016 Jaguar XJ,” the man said, and Bucky started to open his mouth and admit that he didn’t know anything about Jags when Tony jumped down off the work bench he’d been perched on.

“I might be able to help you,” he said.  “How far away is it?”

“Just down the street.”

Tony gestured for him to lead the way and out of sheer curiosity, Bucky quickly locked up the shop and followed.  The man returned to his phone call, apparently more than happy to ignore them both as Tony popped the hood and took a look.

“Do you have any idea what it might be?” Bucky said in a low voice as Tony leaned into the engine compartment.

“Yeah,” Tony answered absently.  “People haven’t been buying Jags as much these days because of the economy, so in order to keep from having to raise prices too much or, god forbid, reduce the salaries of the senior employees, they’ve been getting cheap on the parts.”  He reached down and started fiddling with something Bucky couldn’t see from his angle.  “Will you grab some stuff from the shop?” Bucky nodded and Tony gave him a handful of things to bring back. When he returned it only took Tony about thirty minutes of fiddling in the engine while Bucky handed him tools before he took a step back and was closing the hood.

“Give it a try,” he said to the driver, who got behind the wheel. It cranked up with no problem and Tony smiled in satisfaction.  “The fix will get you another couple hundred miles,” Tony said to the driver through the window, who seemed to be barely paying attention, still intent on his phone.  “But you should take it to your dealer, it should still be under warranty.”

“How much do I owe you?”  The man said, tossing the phone on the side seat as he reached for his wallet.

Tony looked to Bucky, who took a gamble and said, “Two hundred for an onsite service call, since we had to close the shop.”  Bucky halfway expected him to protest because Tony only worked on the car for about thirty minutes, but the man pulled out four fifty dollar bills without protesting, which kinda made Bucky wish he’d asked for more.

“Good work,” Bucky said in surprise as they watched the Jag drive away, purring like it just came off the lot.

“Thanks.  I used to tell my friends that I was good at three things: drinking, fucking, and fixing things,” Tony said, surprising a laugh out of Bucky.

“Drinking, fucking, and fixing things, huh?” Bucky said as he turned to go back to the garage. “Are you as good at fucking and drinking as you are at fixing things?”

“Better,” Tony said with a lewd wink as he flipped a wrench into the air. He tried to catch it and missed as it came down, wink turning into a wince as it clattered loudly on the sidewalk.

“Smooth,” Bucky said, smiling. He took one of the fifties that the man had given them for repairing his car and put the rest in the cash drawer.  “Let’s knock off early and go get a drink.”

He led them to a tiny, hole in the wall bar called, somewhat ironically, The Yacht Club, that was only four blocks away. “This is my favorite place drink,” Bucky said. “Well,” he amended as he pulled the door open for Tony, “It's kind of my only place to drink. I don't tend to wander very far from home these days.”  Going more than a mile from his house usually sparked a panic attack that only got worse the farther away he went, but he didn't want to sound like a nutcase so he kept that part to himself.

As they went to sit at a booth near the bar, Tony was acting like he never seen a place like this before, running a hand over the scarred wooden tables and picking at the cracking fake leather of the seats.  In honor of the bar’s name, the décor was beach themed with pirate accents;  Bucky looked around and saw it as Tony must be seeing it and realized that objectively speaking, it was probably a bit of a dump. But it was a dive bar, a locals bar, with great food and a beer tap that rotated just enough to say interesting without attracting too many of the hipsters that were invading the neighborhoods of New York.

“Bucky, you son of a bitch, I thought I told you never to come to this bar again.”  Bucky was pulled from his thoughts as a man came up and threw an arm around him with affection.

“You told me to never come to this bar again unless I was bringing somebody who could actually drink,” Bucky corrected.  Bucky was usually on a one or two drink limit because of his meds, and though Sam knew that he still liked to give him a hard time.  “So that's what I did,” he said, gesturing to Tony.

“Oh yeah?” Sam looked at Tony with interest and Bucky noticed curiously that Tony seemed to tense but smiled politely anyway under his scrutiny.  “I'm Sam, the main bartender here,” Sam said, holding out his hand.

Tony relaxed as he shook Sam’s hand. “I’m Tony.  

“Tony is my new roommate and co-worker,” Bucky explained. “Today was his first day on the job so I brought him here to celebrate. The food here is amazing, if you are hungry,” he said to Tony.

“Yeah our cook is a visionary,” Sam added. “Not good with people but a magician in the kitchen.”  Interest piqued, Tony reached for the menu.  At this point anything would be better than more frozen dinners; they'd run out of Jarvis's meals last week.  “I’ll give you a minute to decide,” Sam said, and gave Bucky one more clap on the back before he left.  “Nice to meet you, Tony.”

“So I keep hearing that you are planning to go to school in the fall,” Bucky commented as Tony looked over the menu. “What are you going to study?”

“Mechanical engineering, hopefully,” Tony said. “I would like to go into clean energy, I think.  Or robotics, I haven’t decided.”

“A Master’s?”

“Uh, well,” Tony cleared his throat. “A PhD, actually.”

“Oh, wow,” Bucky sat back with a smile. “Impressive.”

“It will be my second,” he admitted. “It’s why my dad kicked me out.”

“Really? For wanting another doctorate?”

“Yeah, he said I was just wasting time instead of helping with the family business.”   Tony ran a hand over the back of his neck.  “Which might be a little true, but not for the reason he thinks.  He thinks I’m, I don’t know, lazy or something, but the truth is that I just don’t think our company is in the right business.”

Bucky waited for him to continue, but Tony just shrugged and smiled apologetically, clearly unable or unwilling to say more. “Well, I’m sorry to hear that about your dad, but the PhD thing does explain a lot, though,” Bucky said, waving for Sam to come back.

“Yeah? Like what?”

“Like why you don’t know how to cook but you can fix a Jag with some duct tape and a clothes hanger.”  They placed their order, two loaded burgers with a couple of beers, and Sam wandered off again and came back after a moment with their drinks.

“Cheers to your first day of work,” Bucky said, tapping his glass against Tony’s.

“Cheers,” Tony repeated, taking a sip. "So, how about you? Have you thought about going back to school or are you happy with the mechanics shop?"

Bucky snorted.  "Nah, I got my bachelors in history while I was in the Army because I was going to try to become an officer one day."  He gestured wryly to his shoulder.  "But things didn't really work out.  Nowadays the thought of going back to school..." Bucky grimaced.  Even if he got into a program, which would be difficult enough, he could imagine being in class with a bunch of people who were ostentatiously trying not to stare at him, or having to constantly find workarounds for only having one arm, or having to commute so far outside his comfort zone.  Even the idea of dealing with papers and deadlines and presentations made him sweat just thinking about it.  "Just sounds exhausting,” he finished.

"I can see that," Tony said, which Bucky thought was rich coming from a guy going for his second doctorate. Bucky's skepticism must have showed on his face because Tony protested. "Hey, I hated writing papers," he said.  "All of the English and History prerequisites, even for a science degree, were horrible.  My roommate Rhodey is the only reason why I passed those classes."

"If you say so." Bucky took a sip of his beer.  “I liked writing essays. I wasn’t too shabby at math, but history was definitely one of my favorite subjects.”  Bucky told Tony about this one essay he wrote on the impact of snipers in World War 2, and Tony shared some of his dad’s anecdotes from working with the military, and when Same brought their food over, he got drawn into the discussion from his experience with the Air Force.  The bar was slow enough that Sam was able to sit down with them and talk, which was when Tony found out that Sam had a day job with the local Veteran’s Affairs center.

“But enough about me,” Sam said, leaning over the table to study Tony with a mischievous look in his eye. “Let’s talk about you.”

“Sam,” Bucky said warningly, apparently knowing what he was about to say, but Sam ignored him.  

“Are you seeing anyone?”

“Uh,” Tony glanced at Bucky in confusion, but he was hiding his face in his hand and was therefore no help. “No?”

“No?” Sam echoed, sounding pleased.  “Hear that, Bucky? You know, Bucky here’s not seeing anyone either,” Sam said over Bucky’s embarrassed groan.

“Go away, Sam,” Bucky said, voice muffled by his hand.  “You’re not helping.”

Bucky couldn’t see the slow grin of unholy amusement that came over Sam’s face at that, but Tony knew that Bucky had just fucked up. “Helping, huh,” he said, and Sam’s tone made Bucky’s eyes fly up in alarm.

“Sam-” he warned again, but Sam just talked right over him.

“Helping implies that there’s something to help,” Sam said musingly, stroking his chin thoughtfully.  Then his eyes widened. “Oh my God, I’m crashing your date.  This is your first date, isn’t it?” As Bucky started to protest, Sam slid out from the booth.  “I’m so sorry, you guys get back to your awkward first date conversation.”

“This isn’t a date!” Bucky called out to his receding back.

“What was that?” Sam called back. “One slice of chocolate cake for the lovebirds? Ok, coming right up!”

Tony could see that Bucky’s face was getting red and knew he was blushing to match. “I’m so sorry,” Bucky said.  “Sam likes to think he's funny."

“It’s fine,” Tony said.  He wanted to say, I mean, it could be a date if you wanted it to be, but he didn’t know if that would make Bucky’s embarrassment worse, and anyway, they were living together and working together, so dating would be too much, right?  He sighed internally and plastered on a reassuring grin. “My friends are the same way.”  The silence between them was awkward for a minute then Tony said, “But we’re staying for the cake, right? That wasn’t just a joke?”

“Well, yeah we’re staying for the cake,” Bucky said as if that were obvious. “I mean, free cake.”

[gosecretscribbles]

Stanuary 2019 Week 1 Bonding

“GET BACK HERE!”

“AAAGH!”

Stan chased after the tourist, brandishing his cane in one hand and the crossbow in the other.  The guy had tried to pay for his tour with a baby goat!  What did he think this was, Medieval Europe?!  Goats were not currency!  Goats weren't even profitable!  They just ate, pooped, and stank!

Stan thought he was in decent shape for an old fat guy, but the skinny farmer sprinted to his truck like all the tax collectors in the state were on his heels.  Plus that stupid baby goat was prancing around Stan and tripping him up.  Even so, Stan nearly made it to the truck when the farmer hit the gas.  The engine roared to life and dirt sprayed in Stan's face.  He skidded to a stop, coughing and scraping at his eyes.  

There was a thunk and Stan looked down.  The kid had keeled right over, all four legs straight out.  

“Oh, great, now he's dead!  YOU PAID ME WITH A DEAD GOAT, YA MORON!”

He swung up the crossbow and fired, but the truck hit a bend in the road.  Instead of popping a tire the bolt just hit the license plate and jarred it loose.  It fell off with a noisy rattle as the truck swung around the curve and disappeared, the other goats' bleating quickly fading from earshot.  

Swearing a blue streak under his breath, Stan went to retrieve the license plate.  Never know when you'd need one to throw the cops off your trail.  

Now he had to decide what to do with a dead baby goat.  The next tourist bus wasn't coming until noon, so he had about an hour to figure it out.  He didn't really want to stuff it, but he couldn't think of anything else to do with it.  Hey, maybe he could make his new mechanic do it instead – what was his name, Zeus or something? Sure, that'd work.  He just had to get the goat out of the way until Soup came back from school.  

He reached the goat and bent down to grab its leg.

“Baa-aa-aah.”

“AAH!”

He jumped back.  The goat's ears and tail twitched, then it rolled over and looked up at him.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” it repeated insistently.

“Yeesh, give me a heart attack already,” Stan growled, one hand over his chest.  “If you're looking for food, you're lying in it.  Grass, meet goat.  Goat, meet lunch.  Now stay outta the way, I got a business to run.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

He went inside to work on more pun-related exhibits for the museum. Those wax figures had brought in a ton of money when he'd first set them up, but business had gone dry a week ago, and he needed another money maker and fast.  Those portal parts didn't come cheap.

The goat bleated from the porch for a solid twenty minutes, then he heard it clopping away.  Stan snorted, then went back to gluing googly eyes on a plastic octopus.  Maybe eight eyes, so it was like a combo spider-octopus?  Yeah, that'd work.  Now he just had to think of a catchy name for it.  Or maybe Octo-spider?  Arachnipus?  Octo-Eyes? Hmm, maybe that'd work...

Stan came out of the Shack in time to greet the next tourist bus.  He didn't see the kid anywhere, so many the dumb thing had wandered into the woods.  Perfect, one less thing to worry about.  He put everyone in the carts and drove 'em out to see random stuff in the forest, like the Tree of the Screaming Tourist.  He told them the eerily twisted bark was an actual tourist whose spirit had been sucked into the tree when he refused to pay for the tour.  (Everyone was suddenly very eager to pay him for the tour.  And tip him.  Generously.)

He drove 'em back and waved them into the bus.  Then he headed back to the Gift Shop.  His pockets were practically bulging with cash.  He definitely had to use that Screaming Tree story more often!  Even if it kind of freaked him out.  Wait, hadn't Ford's journal's mentioned something about –

“Hi, Mr. Pines!”

“AAH!”

He jumped back for the second time that day, glaring down at Deuce, who was standing innocently in the doorway of the Gift Shop.

“Geez, kid, make some noise when you move!”

“Sure, Mr. Pines!  By the way, I didn't know you had a pet goat!”

Deuce moved aside.  That dumb stinky nuisance was sitting on the floor, legs sprawled everywhere, its floppy tail thumping like a puppy's.  

“Baa-aa-aah!”

He groaned.  “That's not a pet.  And get it out of here! Smells like a moldy haystack, and I got some new attractions I need to make for the museum.”  He stepped over the goat and strode to the craft counter in the corner.  “Octo-Eyes was a huge hit! Taxidermic monstrosities are gonna make me a fortune!”

“Couldn't we make this little guy an attraction too?” Moose asked behind him. “I bet you could even give him a punny name!  Like 'Cutebacabra'!”

Stan stopped and turned around.  The goat looked up at him with those weird sideways pupils.  

“Yeah,” Stan said slowly, holding up both hands to frame the little moneymaker.  “Yeah, the Cutebacabra!  Glue on some fake wings, coupla cow legs – maybe some red paint drooling from its mouth! Ha, I love it!”

Bruce beamed at him.  “Thanks, Mr. Pines!”

“Kid, gather every spare stuffed limb I've got and a ton of crazy glue. Then go set up a display for him in the museum.  This creepy cuteness is gonna be our next main attraction!”  

Exactly forty-three minutes later, Stan was showing a new set of tourists into the museum.  He'd already taken them to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist, and now he was gonna milk 'em dry.  Zeus had rigged up a little stage and a red velvet curtain for Chompers.  With a single grand gesture, Stan pulled it aside.  Instantly the crowd went 'AAAAH!' and 'AWWW!'

He grinned and gestured grandly.  Sluice had made it a little vest and glued on every spare animal limb they had.  “That's right, folks, the rare baby Cutebacabra!  The only one in the world!  Pictures are five – no, fifty dollars each!”

Immediately tourists stuffed good ol' Grants into his hands and snapped pictures, flashes going off in every direction.

The goat's eyes went wide and it keeled over, legs straight out.  

A kid in the crowd screamed.  “OH MY GOD IT'S DEAD!”

“WE'RE CURSED!”

“RUN FOR YOUR LIIIIFE!”

“Oh come on!” Stan shouted.  He didn't bother chasing the tourists – he'd pick-pocketed them while they had their eyes on the goat, and he knew they didn't have even two bucks left among the lot of them.  But why in the name of Paul Bunyan did the goat keep playing dead?!  If it had done that two seconds earlier it would've cost him all those picture fees!

“I'm back with the goat feed, Mr. Pines,” Puce said, poking his head into the Museum.  He was dragging a forty-pound bag of feed.  “You didn't give me any money, so I had to pay Mr. Sprotts with three hours of child labor.”  Then he caught sight of the goat, turned white, and dropped the bag.  “SWEET MOSES HE'S DEAD?!”

“No he's not,” Stan scowled.  He reached out and poked the goat with a foot.  The goat twitched, then flipped upright and started gnawing on one of the cow hoofs taped to its back.  “See?”

The goat bleated and head-butted him.

“Aw, he likes you!” Spruce said.

“Ugh, get it offa me.  The darn thing's defective!”  He paused.  “Then again, if I could get it to do it on command...”  Imagine the look on people's faces if he walked his goat into traffic, then made them think they'd hit his Prize German-Australian Longhair Goat!  They'd pay through the nose just to keep him from suing them!

“Eh, he probably just has that myotonic thing.  Or maybe it was myopia?  I always get those two mixed up.”

“Mia-what?”

The gumdrop shrugged.  “Myotonia.  Mr. Sprotts told me about it.  You know how people get startled, and then they freeze up?  It's like that, but for goats.  And it lasts for longer, like their muscles seize up or something.  It doesn't hurt them or anything,” he added, “but it is a genetic thing.  Mr. Sprotts said a lot of his goats got it from the toxic waste dump.”

“So he's being literally scared stiff?”

Moose laughed.  “Good one, Mr. Pines!”

The goat had finished chewing on the cow hoof and proceeded to gnaw on Stan's pantleg.

“Whoops!” Soup pulled the goat away, then set it down in front of the bag of feed and tore it open.  “There ya go, little Gompers!  This'll taste waaaay better.  Trust me, I tried it!”

“Baa-aa-aah!”

Stan watched the goat eating.  “Hey Swoose.”

“It's 'Soos', Mr. Pines!”

“Whatever. You're sayin' the goat just keeps getting scared?”

“Yep!”

“'Cuz it's genetic?”

“Uh, I guess so?”

“Well NOT ON MY WATCH!  After one day of Stan’s Scare-A-Thon Therapy Session, this goat’s gonna be so desensitized it’ll never faint again!”

First, Stan got Moose to wire his satellite to pirate-stream horror movies from Japan.  (Watching these also traumatized Puce, which Stan found hilarious.)  Next Stan hired a clown (who he did not pay) and then practice his jump scares (which made Soos scream so loud it scared off all the birds in a three-mile radius).  After that, Stan converted the Museum into a haunted house, complete with sheet-ghosts, cobwebs, and a looped sound track of death metal, complete with screaming.  He shoved Gompers in and locked it tight.  

He didn't realize until he went back three hours later that he'd also locked the child labor. Moose had collapsed on the floor in the middle of the room – but Gompers was stumbling around bleating to himself.  It didn't look like he'd played dead at all!

Stan grinned.  “Alright, now we're makin' progress!”

“That's great, Mr. Pines,” Bruce gasped.  “You should – oh sweet burrito angels – you should totally save this stuff for Summerween.”

“Summer-what?”

“Summerween!” Soup struggled to sit up and collapsed.  “It's – it's this holiday where – oh man I'm having a panic attack.”

Gompers clonked over, bleated, and started chewing on Soos' face.

Stan roared with laughter and slapped his knee.  “Ha!  This is goat's the best!  Alright, Floose –”

“Soos.”

“Get ready for the main event.  Something even scarier than Japanese horror movies or that weird mold growing in the corner.”

Sue sat up.  “Okay, but if I don't come back, tell my grandma I love her and give all my stuff to charity.”

“The Mystery Shack appreciates your donations!”

Night was falling and the full moon was out.  Luckily Soup had fixed the golf cart right down to the headlights, so they trundled along the beaten road in relative safety.  Gompers and Soos were in the backseat, the kid's arms wrapped around Gompers like it was a really smelly plushy.  He grinned.  When he was done that goat would be almost as hardcore as Stan himself!

When they got close enough, Stan stopped the truck, hustled around to the trunk and started handing a stuff to Soup.  

“Okay. Run ahead and put these all around the tree ahead.  The batteries are all dying so the light'll flicker all weird and creepy.  This one has a full battery.  Lie down at the bottom of the tree, and then when I give the signal, shine it right at the bark.”

“Sure, Mr. Pines!  Which tree is this again?”

“The one with a human soul was trapped in its bark writhing in agony!”

“Ok!”

Stan gave him a shove and then hustled back to the cart, where Gompers was currently chewing on the back seat.  He hopped back in the driver's seat, waited three seconds and then drove slowly up to the Tree of the Screaming Tourist.  It was hard to see the shape of the messed-up bark, which would make it even creepier when Zeus lit up the flashlights.  

He parked, took his portable radio out of the trunk, and then grabbed Gompers.  He set the goat down in front of the tree, backed up, and hovered his finger over the “play” button.

“Okay, Sluice...NOW!”

From the radio, a hollow scream filled the air and the whole tree lit up with a flickering yellow light.  

“Ha! That's perfect!”

“Baa-aa-aah,” said Gompers.

He grinned, but before he could tell Zoop to step it up, the lights suddenly flickered.  They turned orange, then red.  The radio suddenly crackled with static and he dropped it as electricity singed his hand.  The bark of the tree started moving and a huge ghost-y thing ballooned out of it, just a massive face made of fire and fury. Stan backed up with a shout.  Several tree branches snapped and started bending like spider arms.  One of them swung around from the back of the tree – and a certain pear-shaped mechanic was dangling from its twigs.  

He waved.  “Hi, Mr. Pines!  I'm a hostage!”

The spirit's yellow eyes turned on him.  Its pupils went red. “YOOUUUUU!”

“AAH!”

He sprinted for the golf cart, but the spirit lashed out and smashed it with a bark-covered arm.  He grabbed Gompers and held it up.  

“JUST TAKE THE GOAT, TAKE THE GOAT!”

“Do you know how long my spirit has been stuck in that tree, completely alone, just listening to those stupid squirrel-squids chatter about acorns and sushi?  And after years of waiting for you to come back, you finally bring people to visit me – and you tell every last one of them how terrifying I am, so they'll never!  Come!  BACK!”  The face swelled until it blotted out the sky.  Its heat seared his skin. “AM I SCARY ENOUGH FOR YOU NOW, STAN PINES?!”

He screamed and tried to run, dropping the kid, but she swooped down and grabbed him up.  She lifted him higher and higher, squeezing him so tightly he could feel his bones creak.  He could barely breathe!  He had a funny feeling he wasn't the Stan Pines she was talking about, but he couldn't get enough air to tell her that!

“Um, excuse me?  Ms. Tree Spirit?”

They both looked at Soos, who was wiggling one of his chubby little hands to get the spirit's attention.  

“Hrrrrr,” she growled.

He smiled.  “Oh, I'm a him, actually!  Although I do have a feminine softness.  It sounds like you're mad because you've been lonely for so long, right?  But Mr. Pines has been bringing people to see you all the time!”

“They are TERRIFIED of me!”

“Not everyone.”  He pointed.

Gompers was standing on the ground below, absently chewing on a fallen stick. The ghost growled and moved closer, her face distorting until her burning yellow eyes were the size of whole cars, and her face was a gaping maw dripping with reddish flame, mere inches from the goat's puny face.

“DO YOU FEAR ME, LITTLE GOAT?!” she boomed, and her voice was so loud and deep the trees nearby actually shivered and creaked on their roots.

Gompers blinked.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” he said, and resumed his chewing.  

“Hmm.”

“Good goat,” Stan managed.  The spirit scowled and squeezed a little harder.

“But this is not what we agreed to. I don't want people to be afraid of me!”

“But scariness is part of the fun!” Soos said earnestly.  “Plus it's a fun way to spend time together!  My dad never hangs out with me, but Mr. Pines and I watched a horror movie marathon.  And even though I wet myself a couple of times, I wouldn't trade that time for the world.  I'll bet the families who visited you remember how frightening and fun it was, and they'll probably come back to see you again next year!”

Stan could see the spirit thinking it over.  

“Baa-aa-aah,” added the goat.

The spirit snorted and gave Stan a hard look, those ruby peepers staring right into his soul.  “You will keep your promise, Stan Pines?  You will not leave me to suffer in isolation?”

“Guarantee it,” he wheezed.  “Main attraction.  Every tour.  Can't breathe.”

“Very well.  But if you break your promise one more time, the woods will never be safe for you again.”

She let go of Soos and Stan, who hit the forest floor with a dull thump. The spirit withdrew into the bark, lifting her arms to become branches again, while the bark of the trunk twisted and rippled back to its previous shape.  Stan waited for a second, but the tree didn't so much as twitch.  

He sprang to his feet and scooped up the goat.  “Ha!  You did it!  You beautiful monster, you really did it!  You looked that tree-thing straight in the big yellow eye and didn't even twitch!  I bet this goat could handle the frigging apocalypse without batting an eye!”

“Probably!” Soos agreed cheerfully.  

Stan smirked, then mashed Soos' head in a noogie.  “Ya didn't do too bad yourself, there, ya midget.”

“Really?!”

“Uh, are those actual stars in your eyes?”

“For you, Mr. Pines, I would go full-on anime.”

“Don't make this weird, kid.  Now let's see if the golf cart's drivable. I'm allergic to all this bonding and I left my old-man tonic in the Shack.”

“Soda isn't tonic, Mr. Pines.”

“Says you.”

“Baa-aa-aah.”

A/N

“A myotonic goat, otherwise known as the fainting goat, is a domestic goat whose muscles freeze for roughly 3 seconds when the goat feels panic. Though painless, this generally results in the animal collapsing on its side. The characteristic is caused by a hereditary genetic disorder called myotonia congenita. When startled, younger goats will stiffen and fall over. Older goats learn to spread their legs or lean against something when startled, and often they continue to run about in an awkward, stiff-legged shuffle.”

- from a-source-I-forgot-to-save-the-website-for

Also Nour386 came up with the idea about why the Tree was screaming!  I had a different idea but this one is so much better!!!

@nour386

[daveywankenobie]

My day started this morning as any truly great day should – with a steaming bowl of coffee.

I’ve not been in a rush to do anything today because unexpectedly yesterday I decided to hook up with a friend and take a last minute day off from work.

It’d nice to just occasionally say ‘nuts to it’ and just wind down a bit. Rather unbelievably I’ve been with my new employer for one third of a year now and time has flown by. There always seems to be something new to think about, learn or work out a way to do – and I like the fact that my mind is always active with the possibilities and challenges that it brings.

Everyone needs a change of scenery from time to time though – and I’m going to fully utilise a period of downtime that I now have up to and beyond the easter bank holidays.

Primarily I realised today that I need to make a start on my garden before things start growing in earnest (it’s supposed to be spring – although you wouldn’t think so given all the snow that we’ve been having) and also go on some lovely long walks with friends I haven’t seen for a while.

There’s much to do in my short period of freedom – and everyone with lots to do needs to make sure that they have enough shirts to do it in – which is fortuitous because I have far too many shirts at the moment.

I’m a self confessed addict. I don’t need any more. Not a single one.

So – after my coffee I spent the morning wandering around charity shops in Kenilworth and bought another seven…

I wouldn’t have purchased so many apart from the fact that I found a lovely mauve M&S luxury work shirt (a ridiculous £2.50), a practically new Marlboro Classics check shirt (£5) with a really cool rope pattern inlay (top pic) four brand new North Face shirts for £4.50 each and one brand new Berghaus shirt for £4 – all in my in perfect size.

Normally I wouldn’t buy so much in one go – but the usual retail price of North Face clothing is… well… lets just say it’s NOT £4.50…..

All in all if I’d purchased these items off the peg in a department store (where I think they’d be slightly cheaper than the online price here) I guesstimate I’d have paid somewhere in the region of an eye watering £300 for the lot instead of the infinitely more palatable £27.50 I blew today.

These shirts are going to be particularly useful when the summer comes because they’re proper outdoor wear with quick drying fabric – and I think I’m going to get a lot of use out of them.

After this little excursion I headed over to meet my friend – who I’d agreed to go to Brandon Marsh wildlife reserve with.

You might remember two and a half weeks ago this particular twalking buddy face planted the car park when I visited the Lickey Hills with her (link) and badly damaged the ligaments in her leg.

Since then this has been her view…

My buddy is thankfully on the mend – however she’s unfortunately stuck in this boot at home for another three and a half weeks (the injury was that bad – yet the crazy lady still walked two miles on it!) so it’s important to make sure she doesn’t go quietly nuts at home and whenever possible we try to go out for a coffee or have a natter.

We’ve been to Brandon Marsh before – and I always enjoy sitting in the window and watching the wildlife – although sadly today I forgot to bring my camera. Without an optical zoom things don’t look all that great – ad even with my iPhone’s swanky dual cameras digital zoom has serious limitations…

On the plus side it did a fine job of capturing my dinner – which was a rather decadent baked potato topped with some rather sinful (but very tasty) tuna mayonnaise and a side salad.

After watching the birds and chatting for a couple of hours I took my friend home and headed for my next stop – a car dealership.

I’ve become quite interested in hybrid vehicles recently and decided to pop into a showroom to have a look at the latest range. I’m not currently planning to buy anything as I really don’t need a car for any reason other than putting it outside my house as decoration, but I’m really fascinated in how the technology has developed over the years.

The other really cool thing about going to places like this is that I can now sit in and try all of the things in the showroom, which previously I couldn’t. Most cars used to be completely impossible for me to get into – particularly anything with a high sided ‘bucket-esque’ seat design.

When I sat in a car in early 2016 I filled it.

I recently went out of my way to prove to myself that there wasn’t a single tiny car that was inaccessible to me (link) and believe it or not I really needed to do that just to get it straight in my mind that I actually really DO fit in any car now.

Sometimes I genuinely forget and panic a bit.

Nowadays however they feel impossibly comfortable – and I totally get why people prefer this style of seat. It’s insanely comfortable!

My friend remarked when I sent her this picture that I had a very serious face when I sat in a Lexus.

However – I assure you I was thoroughly enjoying trying out new cars that I can’t afford, don’t really need and would almost certainly never buy.

I’ve not owned a luxury car at any point in my life and I probably never will. I truly don’t see the point if I’m honest. Why spend so much time working to afford something that ultimately ends up sitting in an office car park all day long?

For me safety and economy are my chief concerns and if those were both covered in a car that looked like it was made of Lego I’d probably drive it in a heartbeat.

There’s a part of me though that does really appreciates the effort that goes into designing and making something that is of undeniably high quality and that is also insanely nice to look at.

If I’m honest the everyman car will always be the way to go for me – and even though it’s a bit quirky I found myself really rather liking the Prius in the Toyota dealership next door.

On a practical level I could control my entire life from the insanely multi function steering wheel, hide numerous bodies in the rubberised and easy to clean boot should I choose to become a serial killer – and get incredible miles per gallon whilst disposing the corpses in remote regions of the country.

But I digress…

It’s weigh in day tomorrow – and whether I decide to step on the scales or not will be a decision that’s made by my own scales of ultimate accuracy in the morning.

I’ve felt a little bloated today – and only time will tell whether my mid week check in (whilst in my underwear) has remained the same.

I suspect not.

Either way – I’m settling into an understanding with my body. Some days it goes up in weight for no apparent reason – and then with equally baffling regularity it then decides to go back down again a day or two later.

The trick dear internet is getting the latter part of the cycle to co-incide with a Saturday – and I will see whether that’s happened bright and early tomorrow…

Davey

Shirts, rabbits and hybrids My day started this morning as any truly great day should - with a steaming bowl…

[witsyo]

Sun and Moon 6

Year 17, Month 9, Day 30

Razz tucked his hands behind his head, closing his eyes as the sun warmed him from above. The smell of grass filled his nose, and he took a deep breath to catch a whiff of the nearby flowers. You couldn't tell, looking at it from the town, but the temple had a massive garden, carefully tended to by more than a few silent priestesses. He would have assumed that a picnic on the hill would have been frowned upon, but the only reaction the women had had to their approach had been to nod a greeting and return to work. 

Adrian was unpacking their food, a few hunks of bread and cheese as well as the treat of one of the same sweet rolls they’d bought on their very first day in the town. 

When Razz had shown up at the docks that morning, the only ship in port was one they had loaded the day before, so he had been waved off without work. It was obviously not ideal, with their money still slowly dwindling, but he hadn’t been able to help being relieved for a day of rest. It’d been easy to convince Grelda to give Adrian the afternoon off, and it’d been the boy that suggested visiting the temple. 

Apparently, Halle had been visiting Grelda’s shop often, and had suggested the picnic to Adrian. Razz’d met her a few more times, quickly growing comfortable around this companion to the queen of moons even on days he wasn’t exhausted. He sighed, opening one eye to watch Adrian lay out their meal. “Do you want any help?”

“I’ve almost got it!” he said cheerfully, handing Razz a slice of bread and a piece of cheese. “Eat this.” 

Razz raised a brow, then obeyed, chewing slowly as he watched the other. “Thanks.” 

“You need someone to take care of you for once!” 

Snorting at that, Razz patted the other’s knee, continuing to eat as he enjoyed the atmosphere. “Will your new friend be joining us?” he asked, referring to Halle.

Adrian frowned, then glanced at the temple. “Do you think she’d like to?” 

“Maybe. Not like we can ask her.” 

“Ma’am?” Adrian called, and Razz jumped, looking quickly to see who he was talking to. One of the priestesses had made the mistake of wandering too close, looked up at Adrian’s call with a squint. 

“Did you need something?” 

“Do you know Halle?” 

Razz huffed, laying back down and trying to wipe the embarrassed flush from his cheeks. It was one of the things he loved most about Adrian, the absolute willingness to engage with anyone, but it could emerge at the worst times. 

Laughing, the priestess replied, “Yes, I should hope so.” She seemed young, probably around Razz’s own age. He wondered if she’d come here in the hope of being the queen of suns, stayed anyway to serve the goddesses when she hadn’t been. “Did you need something from her?” 

“Is she here?” Adrian asked.

“Do you need someone to ask her?” came a voice from Razz’s other side, and he jumped violently, looking up to see Halle herself standing over him. She was raising her brows at him, but quickly shifted her gaze back to a now-grinning Adrian. Her smile softened, then she waved casually at the priestess. “Thank you, Hiela. I don’t think these hooligans are here to cause trouble.”

Hiela laughed, and Razz looked to see her moving further into the garden, leaving them alone as Halle plopped down in the grass beside him. She was sweating lightly across her forehead, leaving Razz to assume she’d just hiked up the hill from the town. “Make yourself at home.” 

“I live here!” she protested, opening the basket she’d had slung over her arm. “Grelda told me the two of you would be on the mountain. Could I join you? It’s been a long day, and Basille will be in town until tonight.” 

“The queen of moons?” Razz asked, interested despite himself. He couldn’t help it, the legend was one he’d grown up with. It was still hard to believe that she was a real person, living and breathing so close to him. 

“Yes, as opposed to the other Basille,” she snarked, pulling a bundle from her basket and beginning to unwrap it. “Adrian, I will trade you some of that cheese for these grapes.” 

“What’s a grape?” he asked, sitting up on his knees and looking at her with interest. 

“They’re a fruit from the south. Here, try one.” 

Adrian popped one of the purple fruits into his mouth, chewing slowly at first, then faster as his eyes widened. “Oh, by the goddesses, that is good!” 

Narrowing his eyes, Razz held out a hand. 

“No samples,” Halle said with a grin, and he scoffed, then stole one before she could block him as Adrian forked over some of their cheese. 

“The queen of moons came into the shop yesterday,” Adrian said excitedly. Razz had already heard the story numerous times, but he smiled anyway, picking up another piece of bread as Halle got out some kind of a dark salted meat wrapped in paper. “She’s gorgeous, and was nice. She knew my name!” 

“I’ve mentioned you once or twice,” Halle said, handing a slice of the meat to Razz and snatched away the bread he’d just picked up. He looked down at the forced exchange in consternation, then shrugged, deciding just to eat it. The food would be good for the both of them. As much as he always tried to prevent it, weight had started to slip from Adrian’s stout frame, and certainly from his own. This always happened when they were staying in a city, where food cost money instead of time. 

Adrian seemed flabbergasted. “You  have ?!” 

“Of course!” Halle laughed, nudging some of the food into Adrian’s hand. “You’re quite talented, and she’s a famed healer. Grelda can’t seem to get enough of raving about you, either.” 

All at once, Razz realized Halle wasn’t eating a bite of the food in front of her. She just seemed to be piling the contents of her basket into their laps, distracting them quite easily with her talk. He’d never been one to be shamed by charity, but he felt his cheeks redden. Was it that obvious that he couldn’t provide for Adrian? 

“She did ask me where I had studied!” Adrian said excitedly, grabbing onto Razz’s arm. “She seemed very surprised when it was nowhere! Imagine, the queen of moons believing me to be skilled! Perhaps I could study under her!” 

“Not to disappoint you, young master, but she’s not much older than yourself,” Halle said. "I don't think she plans to take an apprentice."

Adrian wilted, then perked back up as he asked, “How old is she?”

“Seventeen, and it’s nearly the tenth month, isn’t it?” Razz asked without thinking, and Halle blinked. 

“Yes. Not many people outside of the temple keep track of the month.” Her question was obvious in the tone of her voice, and Razz shrugged. 

“I was born in the same week as the queen of moons. It was a thing of pride for my family.” 

She considered him for a long moment, then grinned. “I don’t suppose you’re trying to make your pilgrimage? I could easily be wrong, but you don’t look much like a Reinne from here.” 

Laughing, he sat back, turning his food in his hand and taking a quick bite, speaking around it. “Is that the queen of suns? I’d never heard their first names before.” 

“Oh, her name could be  anything  right now,” Halle said mysteriously, and Razz saw Adrian hanging on her every word. “That’s just what it was, long ago, and what she goes by whenever she returns. Shouldn’t be long, now.”

“You excited to meet her?” 

Halle just chuckled, finally picking up a piece of cheese and tearing off a small piece to eat. “Maybe, just to find out what the fuss is all about. I’ve grown up hearing about her.” 

“That’s something I’ve been wondering about,” Razz asked, sitting forward to peer at her. “I’ve never heard of the queen of moons having a companion, and I thought all family was banned from the temple during that life.” 

“They are!” she said. “I’m not family by blood. My mother was a friend to the priestesses, and when she passed, they took me on. I think that since Basille and I are of a similar age, they thought it could be good for her to have a companion."

"Is that weird?"

Halle shrugged. "I was raised for her, I suppose, but we’re friends by our own decision.” 

Someone called Halle’s name, and she cringed, looking in the direction of the temple. Razz followed her gaze, spotting a wrinkled old woman rounding the corner. She looked kindly enough, but Halle groaned at the sight of her. 

“Who--”

“Caroline. She’s the teacher to the queen of moons. Probably wants me to visit someone in the town,” she muttered, seeming to half-consider hiding in the grass before she seemed to accept her fate. Quickly, she grasped Razz’s shoulder, nodding towards the food. “Keep it. We have plenty.” He hesitated, but she was already standing, waving to the priestess as she grabbed her basket, calling back a goodbye and crossing the gardens. 

Then Adrian hummed happily, popping another grape into his mouth, and Razz decided to ignore his bruised pride. 

~~~

Year 17, Month 10, Day 5

They couldn’t stay here any longer. 

It was becoming a harsh reality, the longer Razz stared at the pile of coins on the table. He’d gotten them out to add today’s pay, tears jumping to his eyes as he saw how small the stash had gotten. He was laying in the bed now, blanket pulled up to his chin and hearing Adrian’s slow breaths behind him as he stared at the money.

There wasn’t even another option. Staying on the streets was an impossibility, with guards patrolling, and that was no life for Adrian even without the illegality. It was bad enough when they stayed in workers berths and piles of hay, but then at least they had a  place . 

He wasn’t sure why the thought of returning to the roads hurt him so much. Razz didn’t want to leave, which was a feeling he was incredibly unfamiliar with. They usually came into a town for no more than a week or two, but they’d been here for nearly two months. 

It was like the pull to travel had been snatched from his blood, adventure paling next to what? A few nice people? Adrian’s happiness to work under Grelda? He’d been happy working for other healers, and they’d made friends at other places. Razz had even found a girl, once, one that he’d thought might be worth staying for, but not even she had been able to beat his urge to move on. 

There was nothing here that was unique, no reason he should be risking so much to stay. They would have plenty if they continued to travel, went to the next city where they wouldn’t have to stay in an inn and Razz could be paid a bit more for even less work. 

Why were the goddesses urging him to stay?

He’d considered asking Adrian what he thought, but Adrian had wanted to stay in every city they’d laid eyes on. Maybe that was part of it. He was getting older, getting to the age where he needed to find a place to settle, and Adrian, he knew, was tired of the traveling. The kid would follow him to the ends of the earth. He had to stop exploiting that at some point. 

But even the next town over--

He was interrupted in his thought by the creak of the door opening, and he went entirely still, eyes squeezing shut as his heart started to hammer. No, no no. Had he not locked the door? How could he be so  stupid?

The clinking of coins made his eyes fly open, cursing himself again for leaving the money on the table. The shadowy figure of a man was scooping the coins into his hand, reaching for Razz’s open coinpurse as if to check for more. 

That was all they had, and no matter how stupid it was, how unarmed Razz may be, he couldn’t just let him take it. 

He sat up all at once, tossing the blanket over Adrian and throwing himself at the figure. The coins rained to the ground, and there was a grunt of surprise as he sent them both to the floor. 

“You little  shit --” Razz heard an unfamiliar voice grunt, and a blow to his face made him see stars. 

His head hit the floor. The man was over him, holding him down easily. The glint of a knife made Razz gasp for breath, desperately clawing at the hand on his shoulder as he kicked upwards. It made no difference. The knife arced down, and he flinched. 

At the last second, it jolted to the side, as though stopped by an invisible barrier. The man cried out as his wrist twisted, keeping hold of the knife even as he gasped in surprise. Razz’s eyes went wide, but before he could do anything, the man grabbed him by the collar, lifting him slightly before slamming the back of his head against the floor and making his vision go blurry.

He still couldn’t see the other’s face, hidden beneath a deep hood. “Please--” 

“Shut up!” He hissed, pressing the knife to Razz’s throat and making him go very still. “You brought this on yourself, boy. I had no intention of killing either of you.” 

“It’s all we ha--” he choked as the knife tightened, feeling a bead of blood welling up around the blade. 

“I said,  shut up  . Or do you want me to have to kill the kid, too?” That made Razz’s mouth snap shut. The man drew back the knife, aiming the point at his chest and adjusting the fingers around the blade “That’s what I thought. Now, keep your mouth shut, and I’ll--  oof! ” 

Razz gaped, the man disappearing from his sight. Adrian was yelling, the sound of fighting reaching Razz’s ears as he tried to sit up. He gasped for breath, rolling over to come up onto his knees and looking over just in time to see the knife sink into Adrian’s stomach. 

The man laughed disbelievingly as Adrian gasped in pain, and Razz’s vision went white. 

He was on his feet before he knew how he had done it, fingers curling into the back of the stranger’s shirt and yanking him into his front. His free hand wrapped around the other’s forehead, and a pulsing anger filled his body, arcing through him like fiery electricity until suddenly, it shot out of him. 

The fire concentrated to the place where his hand met the other’s head, burning its way so fast through the man that he didn’t even have time to scream. The smell of burning flesh filled the room, and as Razz let the body fall from his grip, he caught sight of Adrian’s horrified stare. 

Razz’s legs went out from under him, and the last thing he heard before he lost consciousness was Adrian choking out his name.

[fanarchoslashivist]

Harry Potter/Drarry/Time Travel

While the drabble doesn’t hold any Drarry, I do want to make a few shorts into this universe that eventually ill, because the idea became a little... addictive.

Sorry for any mistakes, kind of cranked this one out last night and only gave it a minimal edit today.

-

“Bloody hell Malfoy.”

It was one hell of a mess, Ron had thought himself prepared,he’d seen the evidence when he had first walked the crime scene with his fatherto collect the illegally modified muggle equipment, but there was a very bigdifference between dry black bloodstains and an actively growing pool beneath astill living body.

Draco cracked open his eyes and stared at him, somethinglike confusion in his pain clouded gaze. He was dressed so normal, Ron couldn’thelp but be unnerved by it as he dropped to his knees and got to work. Hehadn’t actually seen the body, even when Harry had firecalled him asking himto, ‘to be sure’. He had already been halfway through the second journal atthat point. He hadn’t the stomach to pay a visit.

He ripped the plain white shirt, saying “Why couldn’t you haveworn one of those stupid button-up ones you always liked,” as he set to tryingto stay the bloodflow. It wasn’t natural, a white shirt and trousers, scuffedsteel-toe boots, a muggle billfold had been among his personal effects formerlin’s sake. He’d almost pulled a Harry and assumed Malfoy had faked it.

If not for the journals…

“How did you-” Malfoy tried before the pain of speakingseized him, causing his to bow up off the ground and wreck the hasty first aidRon had managed, ripping open the new skin that was trying to knit the woundstogether.

“How do you think?” Ron snapped, putting more force than hereally needed to in shoving the other back down and keeping him there as heworked. “Stay still you bastard, its hard enough keeping you alive without youthrashing.”

It wasn’t exactly a fair thing to say, Ron had at least someexperience with a splinching, and he knew the victim couldn’t really controlhow the body reacted to that much trauma, but he wasn’t really feeling graciousbedside manner at the moment.

He was already running on his only reserves of charity forthe git.

“Why is it not healing?” He growled and keeping his weighton one forearm, both to keep Malfoy still as to keep pressure on the wounds,grabbed another bottle of dittany from the bag he’d brought with him, uncorkingit with his mouth and applying it across the huge open gashes.

“Its not-nngh-,” Malfoy clunched his teeth against a wave ofagony. “It’s a curse.”

“Curse?” Ron stared at him, eyes huge.

“Frrr-from before.”

Before, before what? “You didn’t get splinched because ofsome time-travel experiment?” Draco carefully, barely, shook his head. “Bloody-well that’s brilliant isn’t it?” He tossed the now empty bottle away andstruggled through the rest of his rudimentary first aid knowledge from Aurortraining. “Lets hope this keeps you alive long enough then, they’ll sort youout at St. Mugo’s.”

“No,” The denial came like a gust from Draco and he grabbedRon’s shoulder, bloodshot eyes wild, “No.”

“Merlin Malfoy, do you think I’ve the skills to do thismyself?” Ron gagged as the freshly healed parts of the wounds started to peelapart in front of his very eyes. “This is so far beyond anything I can handle.”

“Go.” Malfoy’s voice was bubbling, and there was blood onhis lips now.

“I didn’t break the bloody law to travel back just to notsave your pasty ass you-” Malfoy cut him off by putting a blood coated hand onhis cheek and forcibly turning his head to the side, towards the array of muggleitems in the corner of the shack.

“Go back.” Malfoy said simply, “Go back further.”

Then he died.

Ron stared down at him, at the vacant blue eyes and theslack face. Death wasn’t new to him, but it really wasn’t anything he wascomfortable with.

“Fuck you Malfoy.” He said bitterly, because that was reallyall he could say. He’d thought, he had really thought, but it hadn’t made adifference after all.

He’d gone back in time, used Malfoy’s secret time turner andgone back to save him, because what else was he supposed to do after readingthose damn… what had Malfoy thought he’d accomplish anyway? Messing with timetravel? His stupid plans to change everything, to fix everything, wasn’t itenough that they had won the war? Malfoy hadn’t even really lost anyoneimportant. His parents were still alive, none of them had gone to Azkaban, he’deven seemed to have been getting somewhere with this mental auto repair shophe’d set up.

So why did he have piles of journals filled with plans tochange things?

Plans to save THEM.

Ron stood on shaky legs, not quite ready to let go of hisanger. Not quite ready to let go at all.

“Why couldn’t you have just left well enough be you ass.” Hesnarled down at the corpse.

Go back further…

He’d already gone back farther than anyone was supposed to,that damn time turner he’d stolen from Hermoine’s desk.

“Damn it Malfoy.” He kicked out at Draco’s leg, but therewas no reaction. There wouldn’t be, not ever again.

He was running out of time, the five minute countdown wassure to be running low, and then he’d be back in his own time and having toface his wife and eventually Harry when he came back from Ginny’s tournament.Tell them he broke the law and risked getting fired, or Azkaban, to save theferret.

Because of a sodding diary.

Ron glared at the offending item where it lay, till open andready for its next update on Malfoy’s desk. Detailing the date and time of hislatest time-travel experiment, the one that would cost him his life.

He wandered to it, flipping the pages back to the passagethat made his decision for him, though the whole rotten thing had been oneguilt trip after another.

“I considered going back to the Battle, to attempt anothersmall change, but have determined the risks to be too great for an outcome thatwould likely be altered once I make my final jump. I have made alterations tomy yearly plans to factor in the risks involved in attempting to change thisduring that time however, though how it will play out with my previous years ofinterferences I cannot predict, I can only plan ahead so much, however I dohave every intention of preventing a war to begin with, so the fate of theWeasley twin should not be in such jeopardy.

I simply cannot endure seeing only the one of them, not whenI am certain I can make these changes if I chose.”

Final jump. It wasn’t the first or last time Malfoy hadmentioned that, which had never sat well with him knowing the five minute limiton the Time Turner. Hermoine had theorized that Malfoy and Nott had intended tomake many small changes, and that the final jump would simply be their last,but Ron hadn’t really agreed. Because of this, this one entry.

Why would Malfoy make any small changes at all if heintended to completely stop the war?

Before the Ministry had assumed the two were planning onsaving Voldemort, but Ron’s investigation hadn’t found evidence of that.

No, someone wanting to win a war wouldn’t plot to saveenemies on the other side.

There was something else going on.

If only they had arrested Nott when Malfoy was still alive,instead of tracking their ties and finding the poor bastard’s corpse months oldin this… muggle auto shop.

Ron flipped the journal closed and stalked towards themuggle machinery, the same old beat up car he had last seen as a teen. HowMalfoy had recovered his parent’s flying car he’d never know, but that thething was gutted and sitting in a corner under a tarp had hurt. It had savedhis life, his and Harry’s, and Malfoy had been picking it apart like ascavenger bird.

Except, looking at it now he didn’t really see that.

The doors had been replaced, and all the shattered windowstoo, the bonnet was removed, but there was a new one in the corner, unpainted,ready to be put in place.

Draco had been fixing it.

Ron ran his hand along the side, feeling all the littleimperfections where the dents had been popped back out and sanded down. Thejournal had spoken about Malfoy’s ‘project car’, he just hadn’t connected it tothe battered vehicle his father and he had shaken their heads over as theygathered evidence.

Well, he’d have to see about giving it a home, when he gotback. It was the least he could do, seeing as how he couldn’t save the prathimself.

He smiled and gavethe car a light pat, then looked back at Draco. He knew the seconds wereticking down, he’d be pulled back soon, so why not indulge a little? He openedthe car door and slid into the seat. Merlin, but he had wanted his own car forAGES. Hermione of course, being a muggle born, had dismissed the idea as afrivolous expense, muggles used cars out of necessity, wizards could floo orapperate.

Well, no offense to he wife, but she had never beensplinched, and this particular car had saved his life on two, TWO occasions. Itfelt so solid around him, he grinned as he gripped the steering wheel, so safe.

Until it suddenly turned on.

He felt the pull, not unlike apperating, and knew the timeturner was bringing him back, but the car roared to life at the same instant,the door slammed and the dials on the dash flinched, jumping up thenstabilizing. He could feel the time turner pulling him and he understood whyMalfoy had referred to them as ‘jumps’, only instead of the feel of movingforward he could swear it was like sinking. Like the moment he leaned too farback in a chair and it tipped. He gripped the wheel of the car tighter andscrewed his eyes shut. “Bloody-“

“-Hell Malfoy” his mouth finished the words, and he blinked,staring down at the corpse in the room.

Only it wasn’t a corpse, and it was staring back. DracoMalfoy, laying exactly where he had left him, with a growing pool of blood and squintedopen raw red eyes. Ron gaped, looking down at the time turner, which was indeedstill running, then over to the car, still sitting quiet and ruined withoutwheels or a bonnet.

“Weas-“ Draco began, then shuddered, his body seizingagainst pain.

“Shit shit shit, don’t talk.” Ron hit his knees beside himand opened his bag for the vials of dittany, but even as he uncorked it andreached for Draco’s shirt he knew he was too late. Malfoy coughed, once, andthen breathed no more. “No, Malfoy don’t you-” Ron spread the vial over the lacerations,but no new skin grew. “Fuck.” Ron fisted his hands in the bloodstained shirtand shook him, “Malfoy come ON!”

He hadn’t died that fast the first time. He’d lived longenough to at least tell him to…

“Go back.”

Turning again towards the car, the car that Draco hadpointed to with the last of his strength, that Ron had sat inside of as theTime-turner had attempted to pull him forward, but had instead sent him back.Back to when he had first used it, five minutes into the past.

Ron surged up and rushed to it, grabbing for the handle toofast it slipped out of his bloody fingers causing him to struggle with openingit for precious seconds.

He had to stop, bracing his hands on the side of the car andbowing his head, just breathing. He was breathing too hard, too fast. Why wasthis upsetting him so much? It hadn’t the first time.

Because he hadn’t really realized it would be the firsttime. To him it was the last time. The only time. His only chance to saveMalfoy, and when it had failed… he’d been frustrated and angry but he hadexpected it.

He wasn’t upset at Malfoy. He was upset because he was backhere, again, when he should have been back home, and the person who could tellhim why had died too fast to help him. Why had he died so fast?

Ron stared back at the corpse, at the pool of blood and theone opened vial of dittany that had been as useless this time as before- theDITTANY. It had WORKED. Or at least, it had to have delayed Malfoy’s fatesomewhat. Maybe if he was faster, if he could keep Malfoy from straining hisinjuries and used both bottles as fast as possible.

Merlin, where was his wife when he needed her?

“Leave it to you, ferret. Of course you’d never accept atime limit.”

Wiping his hands on his trousers he carefully opened thedoor and slid inside, he could do this, he could go back again and save Malfoy,and then he could go forward, and live the rest of his life with Draco Malfoyin his debt, because if the Ministry had been upset enough to confiscate themodified muggle artefacts they’d found the first time they would implode overthis. A time turner car. Blimey they’d throw him in Azkaban for certain.

Ron held the little device in his hands, oh wow his handswere really really red, he had blood all over him how had he not even noticed?He giggled, knew he was hysterical, and tried to focus, tried to calm down. Heleaned back, gripping the wheel in one hand and the time turner in the other,closed his eyes, and just breathed. He wouldn’t be any help like this, but hehad time, he was sure he had time, he had watched Draco die and then wanderedthe shop the last time.

He just needed to wait, five minutes wasn’t so long, then hecould go back and save Malfoy. Or at least buy him the time to call someone tosave him. If he could keep Malfoy alive long enough for someone to arrive.

Breathe in, Breathe Out.

Five minutes.

The car revved its engine.

He jerked forward, there was no way that had been fiveminutes already, and opened his eyes. He stumbled against a desk, knocking histhigh into the corner and hissing a swear.

He was… he was in his office. The one he shared with Harry.

When was he? Had he returned to his own time? After all thathad he really jumped forward?

“Ron?”

“What?” he glanced down, and realized he there was afirecall, shit shit, what?

“I asked if you were sure it as okay? I know you wanted togo too.”

Ron rubbed his eyes, it was Harry’s voice. Harry wasfirecalling him. And he didn’t sound upset or stressed or impatient for answersas he had been the last few calls after they had found Malfoy’s dead body.

“Yeah, its fine.” He said distractedly, riffling through hisdesk to find an answer to just where he had ended up.

Oh. That wasn’t good.

“If you’re sure.”

“Someone has to help Mione with Nott, and since I marriedher guess that’ll be me.” He said, not really remembering if that’s what he hadsaid before. He stared down at the open file, the arrest report of one TheodoreNott, who had been found acting erratic, aggressive, and showing signs of beingobliviated. With a time Turner on his person. Harry laughed, and Ron camearound his desk to crouch down by the fireplace, folder in hand and strainedsmile on his face. He knew what day it was now, and what time, and he didn’thave the luxury of a chat. “You take your girl, mate, I’ll handle mine.”

“Alright then Ron, good luck.”

“You too mate, have fun.”

As soon as Harry’s face disappeared in the embers Ron wasthrowing open their cabinet and stuffing their first aid supplies into his bag,how long had it been? What time was Draco’s experiment? Ron had only been ableto roughly estimate it’s failure based on the estimated time of death, was hedying now? While Ron had stood here chatting with Harry, had he died?

He snapped his bag closed and concentrated, as he had doneevery time he had returned to the crime scene to study Draco’s place of work,to try to get inside the head of the man the journals told him was so verydifferent from the boy he had grown up with.

He apparated into the auto shop at the exact moment Dracocollapsed to the ground, and caught him before he hit.

“Weas-”

“Don’t talk,” Ron ordered, laying Malfoy out and fisting hisshirt and tearing it open to expose the wounds. “Don’t talk, don’t move, justconcentrate on staying alive Malfoy and you just might do that.”

Draco gasped, mouth working like a fish, but the painalready stole his voice. Ron could see it now, the slow clean parting of theflesh, like some invisible knife was opening him up. Ron uncorked the first of thehandful of dittany vials and began pouring it as the wounds opened, racing thelines, trying to anticipate based on his last two jumps where they would open.

“What-” Draco’s throat worked as a slice opened up his neckand across his jaw, “is that?”

“Dittany,” Ron said, uncorking the next vial and reapplyingit as the first slice reopened, “I carry it since I got splinched, it workedlast time, so I grabbed more.”

“Last-?” Draco’s eyes crawled down to his chest where thetime turner swung on its chain, “How did you?!” He surged up, grabbing at thedevice and pulling it hard, and Ron along with in.

“Hey!” Ron gripped Draco’s hand in his own, barely managingto keep from being strangled by the chain.

“The prototype was destroyed.” Malfoy managed, “Nott-“

“We arrested Nott,” Ron explained, “He was obliviated, andhad this on him.” Ron pried Draco’s weakening fingers off the device and swungit around to his back as he worked, focusing again on the injuries that justkept reopening. “You need St. Mugo’s, I should have owled them before I came, Idon’t think I can side along you and keep you alive at the same time.”

“They can’t help me.” Malfoy went lax on the ground, as ifhe was giving up.

“Because it’s a curse?”

Those raw red rimmed eyes squinted open at him, bitter andsuspicious. “Yes.”

“Do you know the counter spell?”

“No,” he closed his eyes again, “only one person knew it.”

Ron made a frustrated noise as the wounds opened again,grabbing his third vial, he had somehow managed to keep the git from bleedingto death. “Well if you’re just giving up then, at least tell me how to getback.”

“Back?” Malfoy rasped, grunting as Ron used the torn shirtto mop off the blood and expose yet another freshly opened slice. “You go backin five minutes.”

“Not in my experience.”

That got him another suspicious squint. “How many times?” Hedemanded, and Ron must have given him an obviously confused look because heclarified, “How many times have you jumped?”

“This is my third

“Did you use the car?”

“Yeees?” Ron drew out, uncertain. “You told me to?” That gota reaction, a panicked one.

“Take it off.”

“What?”

“Take it off.” Draco made an aborted motion with his hand, asif he was going to remove it for him, but lacked the strength. “You’re going tocross yourself.”

“I’m what?”

“I’m dying Weasel,” Draco spat, and a bit of blood bubbledto his lips to punctuate that, “if you spoke with me you are running out oftime, take it off.”

Ron did, and felt.. felt sturdier. He hadn’t even realizedhe had felt so off, or perhaps he had just disregarded it as part of hisbreakdown earlier, but with the time turner no longer around his neck it waslike everything came into focus.

“You never want to catch up with yourself.” Draco told himseriously, and reached for the dittany in his hand, “especially not with thecar.” Ron watched, disturbed, as Malfoy drank what was left in the vial. “Didyou have any more?”

“More?”

“Dittany Weasel.”

“Oh, yes.” Ron dumped his bag out, bandages and wraps andvials of potions scattering on the floor. Draco groaned as he turned on hisside and raised himself on an elbow, snatching up the closest vial and readingthe label before uncorking it and drinking that. “I… didn’t know you could dothat.”

“Of course you didn’t.” Malfoy mocked, then closed his eyesand breathed. “For serious injuries you really should put it directly on thewound, as you were doing, however this is not a normal injury.” Draco ran ahand from his chin to his navel, where the lines were… still weeping blood butthey looked more like cat scratches now, very large cat scratches. “It shouldn’texist.”

“Why?” Ron passed over a roll of gauze as Draco wiped hismouth with the back of his hand, leaving smears of blood.

“Because I made sure it wasn’t.” Draco laughed, low andmocking, but not at Ron. He stared down at the bloody gauze in his hand, smilethin and brittle as a broken windshield. “Then I crossed myself, and it cameback.”

“Crossed…” Ron stared at the slashes, the ones that ‘shouldn’texists’ and felt the prickle of a memory, of lines in the journal that spoke of‘scars’ and their ‘absence’. ‘Every timeI look in the mirror,” it had read, “Iremember it is possible. That I can change things, because they are gone. I haveseen the scars, though they are no longer there, and they are the map thatleads me forwards.’ “Your journal said you had scars.”

“From a duel.” Malfoy agreed, and his voice was still soraspy but there was less strain in them. “In sixth year.”

“A…” and he remembered, of course he remembered, “In thebathroom, with Harry. How did I-”

“Forget?” Draco smiled, a mean little thing. “Because itnever happened, because I went back, and I stopped it.”

The tests, the little changes Malfoy was making, testing histime travel, seeing what he could easily change and come back to check.

“But I was careless, I keep track of all my jumps, I madesure I knew where I as at all time, but after Nott.” Draco shook his head. “He foundout my plans. He was okay with changing a few things, things to benefit us,ways to save face or better our prospects, but starting over? Changingeverything? That was too much.” His mean little smile went nasty, “So I obliviatedhim. Should have known though,” he lay back down, resting his hands on hisstomach, “that he would keep the prototype.”

“Change everything?” This was too much, far too much. “Infive minute jumps?”

“Don’t be an idiot Weasley,” Draco huffed a laugh, “it’sbeen far longer than five minutes already.”

Ron blinked, and then gaped, and then made a high frustratedsound in the back of his throat. “What?”

“You used the car,” Draco waved a hand in that direction, “Thecar doesn’t send you back like a time turner, it sends you BACK, all of yourmemories, your experiences, your…” Draco glanced meaningfully at the prototypetime turner, “specifically charmed items. They all go back to a previous you.”

“But it’s been… I should be..?”

“Crossing yourself,” Malfoy supplied, and that answered thequestion of what that term meant, “You would have, if you still had the prototypeon, but once you took it off time caught up with you, instead of the other wayaround.” He circled a finger in the air, “This is your time now, congratulations,welcome to the present.”

Ron opened his mouth to reply, closed it, opened it again,then repeated his whine. “I can’t go back?”

“You can’t mean to say you were so very far into the future?”Draco brushed off his distress with a casual sniff.

“I apparated from my office here Malfoy,” Ron ran a bloody handthrough his hair, then grimaced when he noticed and began rubbing at his hand withthe spare gauze. “How am I going to explain finding you in your own blood when Ibring you to St Mugo’s?”

“You won’t.” Malfoy said planly, and cut off any argumentafter, “I’m not going to St. Mugos.”

“You lost a lot of blood, and those cuts are not completelyhealed, you need-“

“They won’t heal.” Draco seemed to be losing strength, ormaybe just his will to keep talking. “The dittany bought some time, but theywill come back. They’re in a time loop Weasley, there’s no saving me from this.”

“What?”

“You sound like tire brakes,” Malfoy scowled at him, “badones. Kindly stop doing so in my ear.” Then he sighed and stared back up at theceiling. “I told you, I was careless, I kept meticulous track of every jump Imade, and only jumped to times where I knew my own location. Except, apparently,one, because I had already changed it.” He lifted his hand, flexed his fingersin front of his face, staring at his own blood, or perhaps the lines in hispalm. “I locked Myrtle’s bathroom that night, so that Potter wouldn’t catch mein a… delicate moment, and altered my own locations for the following days, asI was no longer hospitalized. Running into myself… Time Travel is not a welldeveloped field, because any changes we make would alter the future, making theneed to make such changes unnecessary. Even now your memories of your future-pastwill be trickling away, until all you have is a vague recollection of somestrange feeling, an urgency, to act in the manner you did. The consequences ofmisteps are… not often recorded.”

“So you don’t really know why you’re cut to ribbons?”

“No Weasley, I do not, except that it is an injury I hadavoided by way of jump.”

“Then how did you… how do you remember?” Ron indicated theroom, and then to the desk, where the journal lay. “Is that why you keep thediary?”

“Partly.” Draco admitted. “That’s mostly to organize my experiences,to plan. I keep my memories intact by using a pensieve.” Draco pointed at thedoorway leading into the loo, “In the cabinet there, I keep a set of-“ hegrunted, face twitching, and before Ron’s eyes the cut on his jaw welled withblood. “Listen.” Draco gripped Ron’s shoulder, the way he had that first timewhen he had refused care. “There are pills. Silver Gel capsules. They are mymemories Weasley, Nott’s too but you don’t need his.” The cut along his chestbegan to split, and he screwed his eyes shut at the pain. “Take them, all ofmine, and then take the car. The gear shift, it is hallow, the time turner isin there.”

“The, but this is-” Ron reached for the one beside them andDraco knocked it away.

“Useless,” Draco hissed, “A prototype, Nott was to destroyit,” he said with an anger unfitting someone who had double crossed his partnerhimself. “Do you remember the note copying spell your brother’s made?” Ronnodded, “Take the 7 pills, not at once, in the blue jar, they are my otherjournals. You’ll need them. When you remove your time turner your memories willbegin to unravel, you’ll need them.”

“For what?” Ron demanded, “Why do you want me to swallowyour memories?”

“Not you,” Draco scoffed, “You just take the journals, findsomething else to give my memories to, and not me either. I’ll be no help toyou even with them.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You’re going back Weasley,” Draco informed him, and smiled,“or did you think you wouldn’t jump again?” He scoffed at the clueless face butit became a bubbling wet coughing fit halfway through and Ron was too stunnedby watching Draco die, again, and the dawning knowledge of what the madmanplanned to react. “Don’t tell me there isn’t something you want to change,”Malfoy mocked him, tempted him, “someone you want to save? Some hole in youlife you want to refill?”

‘I simply cannot endure seeing only the one of them,’ thejournal had read.

“Don’t you use my brother against me,” Ron’s voice wentcold, went hard.

“I’m a Slytherin, I’ll use what leverage I have.” Dracoclosed his eyes, and neither he nor Ron really bothered with the blood thatgrew on the floor around him. “Do you remember the summer before first year?”he asked, and his voice was soft now, almost dreamy. “It really felt likeanything was possible then, if only I hadn’t made such a mess of it.”

Ron stared at him, not really knowing how to respond.

“Go on then Weasel,” Draco dismissed him. “Go save theworld. Since I obviously can’t anymore.”

“I’m not going to fix your life for you.” Ron told him,though it probably wasn’t something someone should say to a dying person. Dracocracked one bloodshot eye at him and managed to grin.

“So don’t.”

And then he died.

Again.

[notallthosewhoarelostwillwander]

Visionary Thai Adventure 2017 - In Transit

September 28 - October 1 So, for lack of a better blog, gonna diarize this adventure here. My workplace has a charity which they use to send staff from all levels of the company around the world, doing vision tests and crafting eyewear for people in need. A few years ago, I was selected to go to Houston for a week, where we saw 1200 children and made 900 pairs of glasses. This year, I was lucky enough to get chosen to spend two weeks in Chiangrai, Thailand, where we anticipate seeing 6000 patients. Oh my. My poor thumbs are going to be be so tired of inserting lenses. I departed from Calgary at 5:20 pm on Thursday, September 28. It was a bit of a stressful rush for final preparation, as a good friend was getting married the weekend before and the fiancé and I were both in the wedding party. On the Monday, I was informed that the horse had a wound on his eye socket - the one we had removed for cancer two years ago. That week was a flurry of final prep at work and vet appointments. A tissue sample was sent to Saskatoon for biopsy. I'm really hoping it is just an infection and not cancer returning. Either way, it's out of my hands. Anyhow. Dad dropped me off at the airport extremely early, which gave loads of time to get through security and customs, so I found my gate and then enjoyed a sampler of wines at an airport bar while I waited. I also met up with one other woman flying out of Calgary, which was nice because it would be a total of four jumps to complete the journey, and I'm an anxious flier. Her name is Carolyn, and she travels enough at work to be comfortable navigating airports. The first leg was from Calgary to San Francisco, and only took two hours. I had a window seat, and the smoke was clear enough for me to see to the ground. Our route took us along the edge of the Rockies, which was cool because I was actually able to pick out Centre Peak and the Valley where I spent several years working at a summer camp. I was also able to see the devastation from the wildfires this summer as we passed over Waterton National Park and into Montana. The scale is absolutely incredible. No wonder the air was pea soup for weeks! I also watched Moana to pass the time, amusing myself trying to pick out Lin-Manuel Miranda's voice in the soundtrack. We landed in SFO at 7:20pm and had to wait until 1:00am to board our pond-hopper to Taipei. We had a bite at an airport bar - I also had a scotch with the BIGGEST ICECUBE I've ever seen in a drink, honestly it was more ice than scotch - and met up with about a dozen others flying out of SFO. Funny thing was that we were split between 3 different planes! Still, it was good to get to meet some more faces I'll be working with. One woman, Jen, recognized my nalbinding and mentioned she and her wife were in the SCA. I look forward to chatting with her more; she seems like a kindred spirit. I won the Airplane Lottery as far as seating goes on the 13 hour leg - I was alone in my row and able to stretch out over 3 seats to sleep. I'm glad, as I was feeling a little nauseated by nerves and exhaustion by this time, and was happy to pop a sleeping pill and pass out. I woke several times because there was a toddler who was screaming for literally 13 hours, but after plugging in my LOTR audiobook I was able to sleep almost the whole was there. I woke up in time to eat the plane breakfast - and my cold dinner, which I fell asleep before touching - and watch the first half of The Martian. We landed in Taipei at 5:20am on Saturday. You read that correctly. Because of the oddities of global time zones, my 13 hour flight took 28 hours. How bizarre. At any rate, we ran back into Jen & Co at a small coffee shop, where we killed our layover by drinking some truly excellent joe, eating some mediocre waffles, and sharing photos of our respective children and pets. I also drooled over the AMAZING selection of Ardbeg and Laphroig scotches, but was strong enough not to buy any. Yet. The airport wifi here was strong enough to message mum and email Ffynn, as well as send Snapchat updates to a number of friends. Modern technology is amazing! The journey from Taipei to Bangkok was stressful. Our flight was delayed, which was less than ideal as we had very little time in which to make our connection. I finished The Martian and started The King's Speech, but it was hard to concentrate when constantly checking the flight clock. Also, I was one of a handful of people who were unable to get their boarding pass for the last leg to Chiangrai, which was an added stress. To be on an overbooked flight after over a day of transit time would be an almost intolerable delay. We were met at the gate in Bangkok by an airport staff to herd us to our gate, and I am glad we were. Bangkok airport is HUGE. I think it is bigger than Frankfurt or Amsterdam. It certainly felt that way, as we hustled in a stampede vision quest down impossibly long hallways to security and immigration at our gate. It was definitely several km. Fortunately, we were all able to get our boarding passes, through immigration - the officer slapped a Baggage Claim sticker on my boob as we went by - and security, and made it to our gate with just 5 minutes to spare. This last little jaunt was only an hour, and I was seated next to a marathoner from Cincinnati who found the Boob Sticker Molestation deeply amusing. I think his name is Matt? He seems interesting, at any rate. Food on this short hop was duck in Thai noodles with some sort of green chocolate chip cake for dessert. Easily the best meal so far. I'm looking forward to trying new foods here, but hope it isn't too spicy overall! Because of our hurried dash to make our connection in Bangkok, about a dozen of us got the pleasure of filling out Lost Baggage forms - myself included. Still, at that point I was just pleased to not have any more flights. We were assured that the bags were accounted for, but just needed to be sent along on the next flight. We took a shuttle to the hotel and arrived at eve Wiang Inn (snigger) at 4:00 ish local time. It's a pretty snazzy conference centre, with a lovely outdoor pool, expansive lobby, and a grand piano for live entertainment. I voiced my admiration and was told 'It's not bad' by some other Clinic members. I'm reminded of the Houston trip, where many Head Office people turned their noses up at our digs, which were admittedly not 5-star, but still perfectly nice for a business trip. To receive a similar response at a luxury resort makes me wonder just how out of touch with reality some of these higher-ups are! After all, the company is PAYING US TO BE HERE, and there are literally porters wandering around offering us chilled glasses of juice. A little gratitude and wonder wouldn't be out of line. Anyhow, I met my roommate Brittny, who arrived on Thursday as part of the core team, and who already had my key. She's from Texas, seems nice, and that's all I know about her so far. She brought me up to the room, which is cute and quite serviceable, though it has a huge sex middle across from the bed and there is a weird window looking into the shower. It has blinds over it, at least. The shower doesn't drain as fast as it fills, but there is a secondary drain on the floor of the bathroom, and the water has good pressure and was piping hot. I felt 112% better once I showered and had a brief nap before dinner. The food is okay here so far. It was a little cold, but I think that's because the buffet was waiting for us for a while. Lots of fresh fruit, which is awesome. Nonetheless, some people still do nothing but complain. That's going to get old awfully fast. I rather expect I'll be choosing my companions more based on their attitude towards this adventure than because of any real similarity in spirit. My tolerance for spoiled and entitled people is extremely low. Thanks, dad. Learned that one from you. Anyhow. Our bags arrived just as we were finishing up, and then we moved en masse to explore the night market nearby. There are Thai massage parlours EVERYWHERE, and an hour massage costs only $10USD! I know what I am doing every few evenings. Love thyself, am I right? I need to take my passport with me tomorrow to get some money changed. I found a 7-11 and got a nondescript bottle of wine for the room. Here's hoping it's not bad! By the time I got back to the room it was after 9:00 and time to get some shuteye. Still no word from Ffynn, but he at least got Facebook set up so I can message him. Woke up at 4am feeling pretty wired, so I decided to do a blog. I'm going to try to stay on top of it, but it took me an hour to type this on my phone so we'll see how I manage. It's 5am Sunday here, which means 4pm Saturday at home. Gonna chat with some other folks back home, I think.

[cubaverdad]

How to get off the eaten track in Santiago de Cuba

How to get off the eaten track in Santiago de Cuba A trip to Santiago de Cuba should start with dinner at a paladar (family-run restaurant) and end with drinks on the roof of the Hotel Casa Granda. By JENNIFER BAIN Travel Editor Wed., June 21, 2017 SANTIAGO DE CUBA, CUBA-Ramon Guilarte welcomes us to his home and restaurant with a cocktail full of vitamin R. Will it be a Cuba Libre, rum and cola, or Estacazo, rum and lemonade? Rum is ridiculously cheap here. Esta Caso seems more fun, thanks to our host's animated explanation (some of it lost in translation) about how drinking this is like getting whacked with a stick. As we dig into platters of mango, papaya and pineapple, Guilarte opens a bottle of rum and pours a little on the ground as an offering to the saints for good luck, and then asks us each how big a "stick" we want in our drinks. "Don't expect a common restaurant," he warns with a theatrical flourish. "Everybody that comes to the restaurant is a friend. I think it's important that you feel like home — and these are not empty words." La Fondita de Compay Ramon is a paladar, a family-run restaurant that boosts the economy and gives tourists and locals the chance to connect. At this farm-themed paladar we sit in cowhide "taburete" chairs found in typical farms and our host is dressed like a traditional farmer. In between a stunning red kidney bean soup and unpretentious platters full of rice, pork, cabbage, shrimp, chicken and plantains, we learn that Guilarte is a painter and empty nester with two daughters and two grandchildren. "Painting, and the life of a painter, is very lonely. Painting is totally opposite to this business." He opened Compay Ramon in 2012 in the Ferrerido neighbourhood of Cuba's second largest city. His neighbours don't mind the nightly commotion, maybe because they often get to share the leftovers. "Best food in Cuba," according to "the Intrepid Group" in one of the many accolades scrawled artfully on the wall and dated Dec. 16, just weeks after Cuban revolutionary Fidel Castro died and weeks before my first visit to Canada's favourite Caribbean island. You'll find plenty of online accolades for our enthusiastic host. "Ramon is a character," allows our Cubatur guide and translator Ricardo Zaldivar Rodriguez, "but this is not a show." I duck down the hall into the tiny kitchen to meet Guilarte's smiling wife Mayra Gayoso Romaguera and her helper, who is washing dishes by hand. I peek at a modest bedroom. My first night in Cuba ends with a stewed green papaya dessert and Guilarte showing how to roast coffee beans and brew coffee the traditional way and then sharing a cigar. Santiago de Cuba, with half a million people, is often described as "the hottest city in Cuba" because of its temperature and charm. We cram a lot into a whirlwind day — historic sites like the Santa Ifgenia cemetery, where Castro's ashes are marked by a large rock from the Sierra Maestra mountains, and where national hero/poet Jose Marti has an elaborate mausoleum. People bring them red and white roses respectively. We hit Antonio Maceo Revolution Square, a former fort/prison called Castillo de San Pedro de la Roca, and a Catholic church with a sacred Virgin of Charity statue called El Cobre near a copper mine. I buy a bundle of copper-tinged rocks from a guy in the parking lot. Cubans make the most of what they are given. There is virtually no waste here — public garbage cans are nearly always empty. I'm more curious about the present than the past and so relish the chance to wander down Calle Enramada, a pedestrian street where I don't have time to join the lineup for hot churros. "If you don't mention this street name," says Rodriguez, "it might be said that you have never been to Santiago de Cuba." At La Barrita Ron Caney, a bar by a rum factory, I sample seven-year-old rum, smelling it with closed eyes, tilting the glass to see the body and holding a sip in my throat while the house band plays traditional Cuban music. There is music everywhere, in Plaza de Dolores, in Casa de la Trova Pepe Sanchez, and at Tropicana, an outpost of Havana's famed cabaret. "When we hear music, we start dancing," says Rodriguez, who sings and dances throughout our week together. At Restaurante Matamoros, the chef pops out of the kitchen to join the band while we enjoy a soupy meat and vegetable stew called ajiaco. After dinner we have coffee nearby at Café Constantin, where my Bembito Bomban is a cheeky reference to Afro-Cuban women and combines coffee, cacao liqueur and cinnamon. Cuba is changing, so you will mix and match old and new. Melia Santiago de Cuba is new, glitzy and a short drive from the historic centre, with decent Wi-Fi (a very big deal), a pool, and a breakfast buffet, where I wrapped thin slices of cheese around chunks of guava paste. In the heart of downtown, Hotel Casa Granda oozes colonial charm, with a breezy rooftop restaurant and sweeping city views. For my last meal, I had a Cuban sandwich (an American invention) and a local spin on pepperoni pizza (forgive me). It was no Fondita de Compay Ramon, but it was still equally, magically Cuban. Jennifer Bain was hosted by the Cuba Tourist Board, which didn't review or approve this story. When you go Get there: I flew Cubana de Aviacion airlines (www.cubana.cu ) direct to Santiago de Cuba and flew home with a stop in Camaguey. WestJet, Air Canada, Air Transat and Sunwing all fly to various spots in Cuba. Get around: It's easy to take taxis around Santiago de Cuba, but if you have a driver and guide (like I did with Cubatur), you'll have the bonus of a translator/fixer. Stay: I stayed at the modern Melia Santiago de Cuba (melia.com). Eat: Find La Fondita de Compay Ramon on Facebook. Know: You can only buy Cuban convertible pesos (CUC) in Cuba and can't exchange them at the end of your trip. Get them at the airport and foreign exchange shops. Wi-Fi is limited to public squares and some hotel lobbies. Buy a 60-minute Wi-Fi card for 2 CUC (about $2.75 Canadian) at the airport or your hotel. North American plugs don't work so bring an adaptor for the European 220-volt system. Source: How to get off the eaten track in Santiago de Cuba | Toronto Star - http://ift.tt/2sA6GsE via Blogger http://ift.tt/2sQ1NxP

[notallthosewhoarelostwillwander]

Vision Clinic 2017 - The Journey Begins

So, for lack of a better blog, gonna diarize this adventure here. My workplace has a charity which they use to send staff from all levels of the company around the world, doing vision tests and crafting eyewear for people in need. A few years ago, I was selected to go to Houston for a week, where we saw 1200 children and made 900 pairs of glasses. This year, I was lucky enough to get chosen to spend two weeks in Chiangrai, Thailand, where we anticipate seeing 6000 patients. Oh my. My poor thumbs are going to be be so tired of inserting lenses. I departed from Calgary at 5:20 pm on Thursday, September 28. It was a bit of a stressful rush for final preparation, as a good friend was getting married the weekend before and the fiancé and I were both in the wedding party. On the Monday, I was informed that the horse had a wound on his eye socket - the one we had removed for cancer two years ago. That week was a flurry of final prep at work and vet appointments. A tissue sample was sent to Saskatoon for biopsy. I'm really hoping it is just an infection and not cancer returning. Either way, it's out of my hands. Anyhow. Dad dropped me off at the airport extremely early, which gave loads of time to get through security and customs, so I found my gate and then enjoyed a sampler of wines at an airport bar while I waited. I also met up with one other woman flying out of Calgary, which was nice because it would be a total of four jumps to complete the journey, and I'm an anxious flier. Her name is Carolyn, and she travels enough at work to be comfortable navigating airports. The first leg was from Calgary to San Francisco, and only took two hours. I had a window seat, and the smoke was clear enough for me to see to the ground. Our route took us along the edge of the Rockies, which was cool because I was actually able to pick out Centre Peak and the Valley where I spent several years working at a summer camp. I was also able to see the devastation from the wildfires this summer as we passed over Waterton National Park and into Montana. The scale is absolutely incredible. No wonder the air was pea soup for weeks! I also watched Moana to pass the time, amusing myself trying to pick out Lin-Manuel Miranda's voice in the soundtrack. We landed in SFO at 7:20pm and had to wait until 1:00am to board our pond-hopper to Taipei. We had a bite at an airport bar - I also had a scotch with the BIGGEST ICECUBE I've ever seen in a drink, honestly it was more ice than scotch - and met up with about a dozen others flying out of SFO. Funny thing was that we were split between 3 different planes! Still, it was good to get to meet some more faces I'll be working with. One woman, Jen, recognized my nalbinding and mentioned she and her wife were in the SCA. I look forward to chatting with her more; she seems like a kindred spirit. I won the Airplane Lottery as far as seating goes on the 13 hour leg - I was alone in my row and able to stretch out over 3 seats to sleep. I'm glad, as I was feeling a little nauseated by nerves and exhaustion by this time, and was happy to pop a sleeping pill and pass out. I woke several times because there was a toddler who was screaming for literally 13 hours, but after plugging in my LOTR audiobook I was able to sleep almost the whole was there. I woke up in time to eat the plane breakfast - and my cold dinner, which I fell asleep before touching - and watch the first half of The Martian. We landed in Taipei at 5:20am on Saturday. You read that correctly. Because of the oddities of global time zones, my 13 hour flight took 28 hours. How bizarre. At any rate, we ran back into Jen & Co at a small coffee shop, where we killed our layover by drinking some truly excellent joe, eating some mediocre waffles, and sharing photos of our respective children and pets. I also drooled over the AMAZING selection of Ardbeg and Laphroig scotches, but was strong enough not to buy any. Yet. The airport wifi here was strong enough to message mum and email Ffynn, as well as send Snapchat updates to a number of friends. Modern technology is amazing! The journey from Taipei to Bangkok was stressful. Our flight was delayed, which was less than ideal as we had very little time in which to make our connection. I finished The Martian and started The King's Speech, but it was hard to concentrate when constantly checking the flight clock. Also, I was one of a handful of people who were unable to get their boarding pass for the last leg to Chiangrai, which was an added stress. To be on an overbooked flight after over a day of transit time would be an almost intolerable delay. We were met at the gate in Bangkok by an airport staff to herd us to our gate, and I am glad we were. Bangkok airport is HUGE. I think it is bigger than Frankfurt or Amsterdam. It certainly felt that way, as we hustled in a stampede vision quest down impossibly long hallways to security and immigration at our gate. It was definitely several km. Fortunately, we were all able to get our boarding passes, through immigration - the officer slapped a Baggage Claim sticker on my boob as we went by - and security, and made it to our gate with just 5 minutes to spare. This last little jaunt was only an hour, and I was seated next to a marathoner from Cincinnati who found the Boob Sticker Molestation deeply amusing. I think his name is Matt? He seems interesting, at any rate. Food on this short hop was duck in Thai noodles with some sort of green chocolate chip cake for dessert. Easily the best meal so far. I'm looking forward to trying new foods here, but hope it isn't too spicy overall! Because of our hurried dash to make our connection in Bangkok, about a dozen of us got the pleasure of filling out Lost Baggage forms - myself included. Still, at that point I was just pleased to not have any more flights. We were assured that the bags were accounted for, but just needed to be sent along on the next flight. We took a shuttle to the hotel and arrived at eve Wiang Inn (snigger) at 4:00 ish local time. It's a pretty snazzy conference centre, with a lovely outdoor pool, expansive lobby, and a grand piano for live entertainment. I voiced my admiration and was told 'It's not bad' by some other Clinic members. I'm reminded of the Houston trip, where many Head Office people turned their noses up at our digs, which were admittedly not 5-star, but still perfectly nice for a business trip. To receive a similar response at a luxury resort makes me wonder just how out of touch with reality some of these higher-ups are! After all, the company is PAYING US TO BE HERE, and there are literally porters wandering around offering us chilled glasses of juice. A little gratitude and wonder wouldn't be out of line. Anyhow, I met my roommate Brittny, who arrived on Thursday as part of the core team, and who already had my key. She's from Texas, seems nice, and that's all I know about her so far. She brought me up to the room, which is cute and quite serviceable, though it has a huge sex middle across from the bed and there is a weird window looking into the shower. It has blinds over it, at least. The shower doesn't drain as fast as it fills, but there is a secondary drain on the floor of the bathroom, and the water has good pressure and was piping hot. I felt 112% better once I showered and had a brief nap before dinner. The food is okay here so far. It was a little cold, but I think that's because the buffet was waiting for us for a while. Lots of fresh fruit, which is awesome. Nonetheless, some people still do nothing but complain. That's going to get old awfully fast. I rather expect I'll be choosing my companions more based on their attitude towards this adventure than because of any real similarity in spirit. My tolerance for spoiled and entitled people is extremely low. Thanks, dad. Learned that one from you. Anyhow. Our bags arrived just as we were finishing up, and then we moved en masse to explore the night market nearby. There are Thai massage parlours EVERYWHERE, and an hour massage costs only $10USD! I know what I am doing every few evenings. Love thyself, am I right? I need to take my passport with me tomorrow to get some money changed. I found a 7-11 and got a nondescript bottle of wine for the room. Here's hoping it's not bad! By the time I got back to the room it was after 9:00 and time to get some shuteye. Still no word from Ffynn, but he at least got Facebook set up so I can message him. Woke up at 4am feeling pretty wired, so I decided to do a blog. I'm going to try to stay on top of it, but it took me an hour to type this on my phone so we'll see how I manage. It's 5am Sunday here, which means 4pm Saturday at home. Gonna chat with some other folks back home, I think.