#if she wins you all promised to push her left so I’m expecting y’all to actually put the work in

[their-name-is-fake]

Hey y’all! Just to give some insight into what we are seeing in the states. This is going to be close, like reaaaaallly close. Kamala would need to win Pennsylvania, Michigan and Wisconsin from the looks of it. So, where does that leave us? Who’s to say all three of these states are very volatile. There’s a high chance she loses Michigan ( I mena she fully fumbled it there so it depends on if the people choose to over look that), so that’s already bad news. Georgia would have been a good alternative but gerrymandering needed any chance of that.

There is an ever increasing chance that Trump is able to pull what he did in 2016 so y’all need to be prepared for that.

And even if he doesn’t win there is a high chance there will be riots so

[strangelysamantha]

pogues x female reader where she doesn’t know how to swim so they all tease her because she has to wear a life jacket

life jackets ❀

pogues x fem!reader.

warnings: reader can’t swim, mostly jokes but can be offensive, swearing, otherwise a cute fluff.

words: 1,090.

summary: since you don’t know how to swim, you have to wear a life jacket. the pogues think it’s the funniest thing ever.

request? yea!!!

a/n: i don’t know how to swim because i get too anxious and then i almost drown lol. thanks for the relatable request! like and comment if you enjoyed. :)

my masterlist

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“wait, you actually don’t know how to swim?” jj asks you. your cheeks flush, and you stay quiet. “i swear, i thought that was just some weird inside joke.” he continues. you slap his arm. “it’s not funny, okay? i’ve tried on multiple different occasions to try and learn how to swim, and for some reason it’s never stuck.” the group in front of you laughs.

john b abruptly stops laughing, “holy shit you have to wear a life jacket!” he breaks out into a fit of hysteria, causing the others to copy him. you playfully frown, pouting. “no! you can’t make me!” you shake your head, crossing your arms. “you have to wear it! we love you, we wouldn’t want you to drown and die!” pope spoke up, staring at you. you roll your eyes, “i won’t drown if i don’t even go in the water.” kiara nods, “that’s true.”

you smile, “thank you kie.” she tilts her head, “too bad you are going in the water.” kiara shrugs. you throw your head back in defeat, “fine i’ll wear the life jacket but you guys better not laugh.” jj shrugs, “no promises.” john b smiles, “it just depends on how funny you look.” you can’t fight the grin on your face, “y’all, shut up and just hand me the stupid vest.” pope interrupts you, “it’s a LIFE jacket, hence, it will SAVE your LIFE. it’s not a vest. two vastly different things.” you glare at him, “i’m very aware, thank you pope.” he grins, “anytime.”

you exhale dramatically, kiara laughing. “you’ll be okay, jokes aside it’s not a big deal. your safety is more important.” you nod at her reassuring words. “okay.” john b comes back with a bright yellow life jacket. “are you kidding me?” your arms cross over your chest. john b and jj stifle a laugh. “what? we got you the life jacket like you asked.” john b spoke up, handing it to you. “i wanted a life jacket, not a construction worker's vest.” you stare at the brightly colored jacket.

“people will see me from eighty feet away.” you complain. kiara stares at you, “yay! that means you’ll be even safer!” you scoff at her words, “okay… fine.” you accept your fate. “i’ll meet you guys on the boat, i’m going to change and put this on.” kiara stays back with you, the three boys walking to the boat.

“i can try and teach you to swim, it’s worth a shot.” you softly smile, “sure, we can always try.” she giggles, “if you are really embarrassed to wear it, i’ll wear one with you.” you shake your head, “no it’s okay, seriously. i wouldn’t want to put you through that.” kiara looks away, “okay. well, i’ll leave you alone so you can get dressed. i’ll be on the boat.” you hum in response, grabbing your swimsuit and heading to the bathroom.

you put your swimsuit on, but struggle with the life jacket. you frown, already embarrassed, but even more so, now that you couldn’t even put it on correctly. after a few minutes, you finally figure it out. you sigh, leaving the bathroom.

you walk out the door, and onto the porch. you start to head in the direction of the HMS pogue. your eyes focusing on the ground. when you arrive at the boat, jj cheers. “you made it!” you roll your eyes, “yeah, hopefully people don’t mistake my yellow vest as a submarine.” you look up and a large smile finds your lips.

in front of you sat your dearest friends, all four of them wearing a bright yellow life jacket. “guys! you all are too sweet.” you hop onto the boat, pulling them into a hug. “we didn’t want you to feel left out.” john b was messing with one of his straps. “yeah, it’s just me, as usual, having the best ideas.” jj cockily mentioned. you glance over at pope who was rolling his eyes. “jj you only get good ideas twice a year, every other idea of yours is bad.” you laugh at popes words. “get him!”

jj scoffs, “so is everyone just against me?” you softly push his shoulder, “no one is against you, maybe john b, but not us.” your arms wrap around kiara and pope, you pull the two of them closer to you. john b interrupts you, “hey! i’m not against jj! don’t say that!” kiara adds, “we aren’t against you, we just love bullying you.” kiara glanced at jj, expecting a dramatic response to her words, but jj stayed calm. “well, glad to know none of you are after me.”

“are you guys ready to swim?” john b speaks up, parking the boat. “sure…” you hesitate. kiara rubs your shoulder, “you got this!” she grabs your hand, interlocking her hands in yours. “on the count of three, we’re gonna jump. okay?” she asks. you nod, “okay!” she starts counting, “one… two… three!” the two of you jump off the boat, the life jackets causing you to automatically float to the surface. the boys jump in after you.

“look at us, swimming and shit!” jj yells out. “yeah!” you respond, half preoccupied since kiara and pope had teamed up against you, splashing you with water. “jj! john b! join me, you’re on my team!” john b and jj swim to you, joining you in the splashing battle. your team overpowers kiara and pope. “haha, losers!” you jokingly splash them one last time. “fine, the three or you win, we were outnumbered though.” kiara stares at you. “true, kiara is right. we were outnumbered.” pope continued, “rematch?” you jokingly push him, “no way! you just need to be careful with who you go up against!”

jj floated beside you, defending you. “she’s right, you are the ones who picked the battle.” pope groaned, “whatever… i’ll be a sore loser somewhere else.” pope swam away, kiara following him. a second goes by before john b and jj tag team you, pushing you under the water. you spring back up, “WHAT?” you scream out, pointing at both john b and jj. “I THOUGHT WE WERE A TEAM!” they chuckle, “you thought wrong!” jj smirks menacingly at you, “watch your back!!” you swim away, pretending to escape john b and jj.

after an hour of swimming, the group was done for the day. you enjoyed swimming, despite the bulky life jacket. you now felt comfortable enough to wear the jacket, so many more days like this were sure to come.

<3

[volleychumps]

Hello!! Can I request for Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo to you getting hit in the face by their spike or serve and like you pass out..? tysm I love your writing sm!!!! You’re my favorite writer on this app probably

:’)) These will be written before anything significantly romantic happens and they start dating, I hope you enjoy!!

Accidental Ambush w/ Bokuto, Oikawa, Ushijima, and Kuroo

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Bokuto

“Bokuto-san, should you really be trying out a spike you’ve never tried before with full force?” 

Akaashi Keiji sighs, watching with a tired stare as the nationally-known spiker grins, gold-eyes gleaming with excitement as the owl-haired boy spins the ball in his hands for good measure. 

“Learn to live a little, Akaashi!! If I’m gonna be the bestest spiker in the world-” 

“Bestest isn’t-” 

“-then I’ve gotta have more tricks up my sleeve!” 

The banter between the two had kept both boys occupied as you entered the gym, planning to grab the sneakers you left behind from practice with the girl’s basketball team. In doing so, you eye the two as the darker haired one finally obliges to set for the over-hyped boy, causing you to pause. 

It wasn’t every day you got to see the skills of one of the top spikers in the nation up close. Realizing neither had noticed you, you hum, leaning against the wall as you think that it wouldn’t hurt to watch from a distance. 

What you didn’t expect, however, was for the ball to come hurtling in your direction, so fast and uncontrolled you hadn’t even been able to react as the weight of the ball knocks you off your feet, feeling the ground hit your back as the impact causes you to begin to lose conciousness. 

Bokuto Kotarou’s jaw drops as Akaashi’s slackens a little, both pairs of eyes widening as the last thing you hear is the sound of sneakers on the squeaky gym floor as Bokuto looks down at your limp figure in shock. The ball bounces away, leaving a trail of blood coming from out your nose. 

“Shit! Shit Shit SHIT OH MY GOD DID I KILL HER?!” 

“No, I...don’t think so.” 

“THINK? WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY ‘THINK’, KAASHI?!”

“Yelling won’t change the fact that you just hit one of the captains of the girl’s basketball team.” 

“YOU SET THE BALL!” 

“You wanted me to set it, so techinically, you did this.” 

Bokuto’s golden eyes dim down a little, a wilt to his shoulders as he scoops you up carefully, guilt bouncing around his chest as he brushes some hair out of your face, Akaashi crossing his arms when Bokuto seems to gaze at your face for a second. 

“Um...are you gonna take her to the nurse, or is something supposed to happen-” 

“Right! Right, the nurse.” 

When you finally gain conciousness, your first reaction is to sit up quickly, groaning as soon as you did. What the hell happened? 

You blink when you’re immediately pushed back down again, but slower and gentler this time as the owl-haired boy in front of you gives you a nervous grin, golden eyes looking a tad sad as he begins to ramble. 

“You’re awake!! Do you want money? I can buy your lunch! Shoot shoot, uh...a goldfish! How about I buy you a goldfish?” 

His words are a tad difficult to process as you blink once, then twice before realizing he had been holding a warm towel to your nose, pink staining the white material as it indicates you had bled. You smile a small grin, pushing his wrist away as Bokuto rubs the back of his neck guiltily. 

“Bokuto...is it? Uh, I’m okay. Really.”  You assure him, telling the truth. Most of the pain had faded away, and you were left with a dull throb in your head. “I just really wanted to see you spike, I should’ve made myself known..”

“Really?” Bokuto’s eyes widen the slightest bit. “You wanted to see me spike?” 

“Yeah, that’s weird, right?” You laugh awkwardly, looking off to the side. “You’re one of the most talented players in our age range, right?”

Bokuto swallows, feeling heat rush to his cheeks as he sees you, slightly bloody nose and all, smile as if he hadn’t just socked you in the face with a volleyball as you openly compliment him to his face. 

The words rush out before Bokuto can think twice. “Do you...want to?”  

“Want to...see you spike?” You arch a brow, surprised as Bokuto nods brightly as he grins, putting the warm towel on your nose again as he brushes some hair out of your face to keep it from getting wet. “I can make a private showing just for you as my apology! I’d just need to get your number...and your name...”

“Y/N.” You attempt to push the towel away again, only for Bokuto to catch your hand, slowly intertwining his fingers with yours as he gives you a half-grin. 

“Whaddya say we make it a date, Y/N?” 

“Depends, are you gonna hit me again?” 

“I’ll definitely be hitting on you, that’s for sure.” 

Akaashi Keiji fights the urge to roll his eyes as he closes the door quietly to the nurses office, wondering how the hell his best friend managed to turn the situation into an opportunity to get a cute date. 

Oikawa

“Ladies, remember: if you’re gonna hit it, hit it until it breaks.” 

“Lame as hell.” 

“Iwa-chan, I’ll give you my attention in a second, okay?” 

Oikawa Tooru misses the flicked off finger in his direction as he continues to talk up his group of fans, grinning his playboy grin at all of them in the middle of the lunch period. Hanamaki coughs as he approaches the middle of the courtyard, choking back a laugh as he examines the situation. 

“Is he really showing them how to serve a volleyball like they actually care?” 

“At least he’s not talking to us.” Matsukawa shrugs, boredly watching as well. “I say it’s a win-win situation.” 

“Show us, Oikawa-Kun!” 

“Yeah, let us see your famous serve up close!” 

“Girls, girls...” Oikawa puts his finger to his lips, winking once. “Promise to keep it a secret?” 

“Hey now...he’s not actually gonna hit it, right?” Iwaizumi sits up fully, drinking his melon juice as he sees his childhood friend actually take position, causing Iwa to choke. 

“Oi, shittykawa, is that really the best-?” Iwaizumi questions through a fit of coughs, but doesn’t manage to finish his thought as Oikawa’s already running to hit the volleyball already set into the air as he hits it towards a space with no students-

or so he thought. 

Through a herd of squeals and praises, chocolate brown eyes widen as your figure enters the direct line of fire, time seeming to slow down as you manage to turn in question at the sound, only for your jaw to slacken. 

The sounds of his fans drown out to Oikawa’s ears as the ball hits you straight in the face, causing you to stumble confusedly as you feel your face go numb, pain slowly taking its’ place afterwards. The distance doesn’t allow the setter to pinpoint exactly who you are, but he begins to move without thinking. 

Oikawa is careless as he pushes aside the girls surrounding him, legs moving so fast before breaking into a run just in time to catch you from falling into the grass. He blinks once, eyes in shock at what he had just done, all to show off for some girls. 

He watches the tears prick your eyes, eyes beginning to flutter shut as his rushed thought process doesn’t realize just who he hit. 

“I-I’m so sorry, I-” 

Oikawa feels a lump grow in his throat as your lips form a simple, yet meaningful smile as the colors in your vision begin to close in on you, his panicked mind still trying to register who exactly he had harmed. 

It’s okay. Your smile seemed to have meant. 

Weren’t you mad? Shouldn’t you be angered that this stuck up pretentious playboy had nailed you right in the face with the oh-so famous serve known to make half the teams in his district tremble at the thought of it? 

“Congrats.” Oikawa feels a familiar hand clasp his shoulder to see Iwaizumi looking down at your now unconcious figure. “You just hit the school sweetheart square in the face.” 

“S-School sweetheart? Shit, wait, Y/N?!” Chocolate orbs widen with realization as his adrenaline-rushed mind finally registers. 

Iwa grins a tad sadistically as Oikawa gapes at the beauty in his arms, now slightly bruised and passed out because of his doing as the setter carefully picks you up, regret brimming his eyes. 

“The one girl in the school you wanted, and you had to hit her? Nice.” 

Ushijima

“WATCH OUT!” 

You don’t have time to do anything of the sort as you had just slid the door open to the entrance of Shiratorizawa’s volleyball club practice room just as Ushijima had nailed another practice spike, this one hitting the inner court so hard it had rebounded back out of control in another direction.

That direction just so-happening to be yours. 

The papers meant for the advisor slip out of your grasp as you try to process what had just happened, hearing the once boisterous gym drain of noise as the ball hits you square in the face. You had known of Ushijima’s scarily powerful spikes, but you had no idea the rebound back could feel like a ton of bricks. 

Ushijima seems to still in place as you faint backwards, eyes widening the tiniest fraction as the rest of the team surround your now blacked out figure, bruise forming on your nose along with a trail of blood. The powerful male slowly raises his hand to examine his palm, eyes betraying no emotion. 

He had done that...to a girl?

“I-Is she dead?” Goshiki whispers as Subaru nudges him, nodding over to a staring Ushijima as he takes in what he had done.

“Y’all are such babies.” Tendou yawns, walking over to begin to wrap your arm around his neck. “She wouldn’t die from something like a rebound, but if it had been the real thing-” 

“Shut up, you ginger.” Semi begins to take your other arm before the culprit’s voice makes him freeze in place. 

“No.” Ushijima’s steps manage to silent the team as they, excluding Tendou and Semi, all take a subconcious step back. They watch in bewilderment as Ushijima takes your unconcious figure with a gentleness they didn’t know he possessed, wrapping your arms around his neck as he lifts you into a piggy-back position. 

“I’ll take her. Continue practice.” 

Ushijima ignores the gapes and questioning stares as he walks out of the volleyball room, never had left practice early before for any reason. 

As he walks, feeling your even breaths against the back of his neck as he carries you easily to the nurse, he wonders just what he would say to you when you came to in addition to his apology. 

The stranger on his back seems to shuffle a bit, causing the ace’s steps to slow to a stop. 

“W-What...?” 

“I’m sorry, but try not to sleep. We have to make sure your head’s alright.” Ushijima says straight forwardly, blinking when you hum in agreement, still seeming to be out of it as you nuzzle your face into his neck. 

“Okay...” 

Before Ushijima can tell you not to do that, your next words make him press his lips together. 

“You’re a lot nicer than you look, you know?” You seem to slur, head lolling on his shoulder. “Sweeter too.” 

Thump.

Ushijima pauses for a few moments, beginning to walk again before stopping abruptly, grip on your legs relaxing as he feels your breathing even back out again. 

Wait. 

...thump?

Kuroo

“Kuroo, you’re hitting too hard.” 

“I don’t care!” The captain fumes as he grabs another volleyball from the basket, throwing it up to slam it across the gym angrily. “Stupid sensei! I don’t even know if I’ll be able to play in the next game if I have to take those dumb classes.” 

Kenma dodges the ball with a slight movement to his head as he doesn’t tear his gaze away from his console just as it hits the space next to his head. The setter looks up lazily as Kuroo grabs another. 

“I’m telling you, you’re-” 

Kenma’s cut off when he hits the ball again, this time not even bothering to put a spin of direction on it when it suddenly gets slammed outside a nearby open window, followed by a yell of pain. The two childhood friends exchange looks, Kenma getting to his feet with a sigh as Kuroo rushes outside. 

“I told you so.” 

Kuroo’s footsteps bring him to the point of contact, eyes widening at the sight of someone he recognizes leaning on the building for support, a hand rubbing your cheek as tears prick the corners of your eyes. 

“Shit! Are you okay?” Kuroo questions hastily as the captain’s heart beats in fear. How could he lose control of his power like that? The two friends watch, one less worried than the other, as you wave it off, laughing a little with a blush on your features. 

Kuroo breathes out the anxiety in his chest at your laugh, the corner of his mouth quirking upwards the slightest bit as you go to say something-

The smile on your face seems to fade as you lurch forward, the impact of the spiked volleyball finally processing in your body as Kuroo catches you swiftly, anxiety back in his chest. 

“Hm. Well, have fun with that.” 

“K-Kenma, what?!” 

Kuroo sighs, annoyed at his best friend as he walks off carelessly, leaving you in the hands of the captain, who looks down at you guiltily before scooping you back up in his arms and back into the empty practice room. 

When you come to, the first thing you see are the eyes of the captain, ice pack on your forehead as you realize your head had been placed in his lap, Kuroo nursing you until you had woken up. 

Startled, you sit up quickly, his forehead colliding with yours as the ice pack falls into your lap. You share a groan, and you scramble out of his hold with a redness to your cheeks that the raven-haired captain couldn’t pinpoint. 

“That couldn’t have felt good.” Kuroo frowns, a hand reaching out to touch your forehead before you turn away, causing him to arch a brow. 

“Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable?” The captain questions the victim of his doing, and you laugh a little too loudly. 

“U-Um! Nope, I’ve just got to uh- feed my shark-” 

Kuroo catches your arm before you can go, pulling you back down gently. 

“Do I need to kiss you or something to make you stay still?” 

The capain catches on as a pink hue takes over your cheeks as you do as your told, a smirk tickling the corner of his lips. 

“Y/N L/N, right?” 

“You know my name?” You squeak, only prompting Kuroo to come even closer as his feral eyes seem to keep you from running. 

“I heard through the grapevine someone of the sort had a crush on me all of last year.” 

You blanch, finding movement in your legs again as you ignore the dull throb in your head. Kuroo puts an arm on the opposite side of you, resting it on the bleacher as he leans even closer, seeming to trap you. 

“What I didn’t hear however,” 

The ice pack in your lap continued to melt. 

“Was that the girl who liked me was this cute.” 

[bi-bi-buckleydiaz]

dare night | owen joyner

requested; no, i got inspired while watching OTH for the hundredth time. but please request jatp or tom / peter things !!

words; 3.3K was not expecting it to be this long. kinda got away from me. also unedited I just wanted to get it out ;)

a/n; not me writing an OTH inspired fic for my new beau owen joyner...oop. anyway, hope ya like it. it is unedited because i just finished it and i really wanted to just get it out for y’all. 

“I cannot believe I let you talk me into this.” 

“C’mon Owen it’ll be fun,” Charlie says, excitement pouring from him like a golden retriever puppy. Owen sighs at his best friend before looking at the rest of his friends behind Charlie. 

“Yeah, Owen, we’re only young once. And y’all only get Jadah and I unsupervised once in a blue moon, we have to appreciate that time.” The cast laughs as Madi smiles wide, probably more excited about this proclaimed ‘dare night’ than it’s creator. Speaking of...

“Listen, I already have the dare’s written up and I know you hate to waste paper.” Charlie’s practically pouting now, so Owen really can’t say no to that. 

“Fine, let’s get this over with.” Everyone cheers as the final member takes his place around the kitchen island. The cast, minus Cheyenne of course because he’s “too old to partake in this. It’s a teens only event.” “We’re in our twenties Charlie.” “SEMANTICS!”,  are gathered in Owen and Charlie’s apartment around their kitchen island, all waiting for their teams and dare card. 

“The rules are simple, boys versus girls. Then you each split into teams of two -” 

“But there’s an uneven amount on each team. Five against five.” Jadah points out, smiling at Charlie's small ‘shit’ and long sigh. He thinks for a minute before a metaphorical light bulb goes off above his head and he’s smiling again. 

“Then a boy and girl will have to be together. Just split the points at the end.” Satisfied with the idea, everyone nods. No one misses the way Jeremy and Carolynn smile at each other.  

“Now, you all have phones, you have to document one of you completing the dares either with a photo or a video. After the first dare is complete, you’ll get the second one. I’ve asked strangers around where your dare takes place to give you the next ones. They were very accommodating and are very excited to see y’all. We’ll all meet back here at midnight. Team that gets the most points, wins.” Charlie is practically vibrating by the time he’s finished, proud of his little game he put together and that everyone is just as excited as he is, well, minus Owen of course. But that’s because he’s nervous about doing unknown dares in public. Sure he puts on this face of being quirky and cool and fun, doesn’t mean some things don’t scare him. 

“So everyone, pick your partners, pick your card, and let the dares begin!” Madison and Jadah immediately jump for each other, Carolynn and Jeremy grabbing hands before Charlie is even done speaking. Savannah and Tori high give, Sacha and BooBoo look at each other and shrug, assuming the wonder twins will want to stick together. Everyone is shocked though when Charlie bounces over to Sacha and slings his arm around his shoulders, shooting Owen an apologetic look in the process. 

“Sorry bro, but I think we both know if we go at this together we’ll get nothing done and, I’d kinda like the boys to win.” Madi covers her mouth and the confession while the rest laugh. Owen groans and then goes red when BooBoo shoots him a look. 

“That was rude! I’m glad to be your partner BooBoo don’t get me wrong. Seriously, so excited.” Owen begins to panic and is set to keep babbling before BooBoo laughs and lightly punches Owen’s shoulder.

“Relax dude, let’s go kick some dare ass!” Everyone cheers and grabs a card off the table before rushing out the door to their respective vehicles, Madi managing to borrow her dad’s car for the night, thanking God that she passed her road test before season 2 started. 

“So, what dare did we get?” Owen asks when he and BooBoo reach the car. He starts it up while BooBoo rips open the envelope. 

“We...ooh no.” He starts to giggle before he can even finish. Owen can feel his heart start to race.

“Oh no, what’d we get?” 

“Hehe we, ha, we have to return some clothes...” Owen let’s out a sigh of relief. 

“That’s not too bad.” 

“While wearing them,” BooBoo finishes. Owen freezes. 

“Excuse me!?” BooBoo breaks into a loud laugh at Owen’s shock, handing him the card in the process. “No way! Is Charlie insane?” What the hell was he thinking? What if someone recognizes him while he’s taking off a shirt to return it? Wait, why is he the one doing the returning?

“No. Nope. No way, we lose this point. What’s the next one?” BooBoo is still laughing as he shakes his head. 

“You heard Charlie, we only get the next one if we complete this one.” Owen groans, accepting his fate. 

“I can’t believe we’re doing this.” 

“Believe it drummer boy. Especially since you’re gonna be the one doing it.” Owen whips his head towards BooBoo, almost breaking his neck in the process. 

“No way. Dude, no. Way.” Owen is ready to get on his knees and beg. 

“Um, well, the sizes are on the card and they match you,” BooBoo says, watching Owen begin to pout and accept his fate. BooBoo would feel bad if he didn’t think this was going to be a hilarious night. “C’mon, get driving.” Owen groans once more before driving away, accepting his fate that this night will be a wreck. 

~ ~ ~

Shopping alone is boring. 

Y/N asked friends, obviously, but they were all busy doing something or someone, so she was left alone to shop for christmas gifts. Sure it’s early, like, two months early, but she learned a long time ago that when you live alone as a young adult, living paycheck to paycheck, it's best to shop for gifts in increments and not all at once near christmas time. So here she is, shopping alone in a mall near the stores closing times because that’s the only time she can spare. 

It’s not all bad, late night shopping means not a lot of people in the mall and those who are here are strung out college kids like here. Sure there have been some creepy guys eyeing her up and down, but when she felt those looks she made it clear to go to a store that had security in front of it, even if that meant staring longingly and things she can’t afford. 

Y/N’s about half an hour into shopping for her niece and nephew when she hears a commotion on the other side of the clothing store. She quickly glances over then looks back to the shirt she was admiring, before realizing what she saw couldn’t be quite right. She looks over again, and holy shit, her eyes weren’t deceiving her. There really is a guy at the cash register shirtless and in the middle of taking his pants off. 

Y/N takes back her previous statement, shopping alone is so not boring. 

It’s then she notices a security guard enter the store, hand on the walkie talkie on his shoulder. There’s no way that’s going to end good. She doesn't know why she does it, but one second she was holding a shirt for her nephew and the next she's pushing the rack of clothes in front of the guard and grabbing the near naked and guy and running. She hears a camera snap behind her and a ‘hey wait up’ but all she’s really focused on is getting the guy out of the mall before he’s arrested for public indecency or something. 

The hand in hers tugs her to stop just before the reach the mall doors, making her halt in her running. She looks back and ‘woah, he’s pretty.’ 

“Hey, not that I’m thankful but, my friend...” Pretty eyes trails off and he takes in a breath and wait, when did she start calling him pretty eyes. No! He’s a stranger. 

“Yeah well, your friend isn’t the one half naked in the mall getting chased by security.” He ponders it for a minute then nods. “So let’s go. I promise i’m not gonna murder you, just gonna take you to the parking lot so you don’t get arrested for public indecency and end up on the sex offender registry.” Pretty eyes get’s scared at that and then begins to nod vehemently. 

“Yeah, yeah that’s bad. Lets go!” As he says that, security appears behind them. She grabs his hand and they book it out of the mall and into the shockingly cold autumn air. She doesn’t know where this guy’s car is so she leads him to hers, praying she’s not making a mistake. 

~ ~ ~

Owen doesn’t know how he ended up here. He remembers putting the clothes that were in the locker on and he remembers going to the first store and returning the shoes, but after that he thinks the adrenaline kicked in and he blacked out from it. One minute he was taking his pants of trying not to die of utter embarrassment and the next, some girl was dragging him out of the mall and to her car in the parking lot. He doesn’t know why he let this stranger drag him out of the mall, but he’s not really complaining as she shoves him into the back of her car, away from prying eyes. He only begins to panic when she climbs in next to him and shuts the door. Once the silence settles around them does reality finally settle in and does he realize what he actually just did. 

“Holy shit. Holy shit what did I do! Oh my God that could have ended so bad! Oh my God!” He panics for another minute before a hand settles on his bare shoulder. 

“Hey. Hey! You’re fine. They didn’t follow us out, you’re not getting in trouble.” Her voice is soothing, he’ll admit, and he can feel the anxiety begin to ease back. But it doesn’t change the fact that he was just half naked in the mall where anyone could have recognized him and taken pictures. Granted, Charlie did think about that and put a random blue baseball cap and glasses in the bag of clothes too. But still, that’s like, nothing! He goes to grab his phone to check instagram before realizing he’s only in his underwear. In a random girls car. In a Vancouver mall parking lot. She seems to realize this at the same time because she clears her throat and scooches to the other side of the car. 

“Um, do you, do you like, have clothes or something I can go retrieve or...” He nods and goes to give her the key to the locker, then remembers, no pants. They chuckle at the same time and looks down at her purse, rummaging through it for her phone. He takes it from her with a small ‘thanks’ hoping his cheeks aren’t showing how flushed he feels. He quickly dials BooBoo’s number, giving him the details of what went down, asking the girl where they are and reporting it back to him, then hangs up. 

“Um, thanks. For that. And for saving me from being arrested. That was, thanks.” The girl giggles and nods. “I’m Owen, by the way. I don’t normally run around malls in my underwear.” He sticks his hand out, hoping she’ll take it and give a name in return. He’d really like the pretty girl's name. 

“I’m Y/N. I don’t normally take random, half naked strangers to my car.” He laughs at that and they shake hands. 

“Well, thanks for making an exception.” They stare at each other for another few seconds before a knock on his window makes them break apart. He looks over and sighs in relief at BooBoo and his clothes in his hand. He opens the door and jumps out, taking the clothes from BooBoo and immediately shoving his legs into his pants. The girl get’s out after him, smiling at him balancing on one foot and trying not to fall over. 

“Thanks, for saving him. No hard feelings for leaving me in the dust.” BooBoo smiles as he says it so Owen hopes the girl doesn’t take it too harshly. She laughs though and, woah, that’s a nice laugh. He’s so focused on her smile and the way she says her name that he puts his shirt on backwards. He doesn’t notice until BooBoo points it out, laughing as he does. When Owen is properly dressed again, he takes a deep breath and leans against the car. 

“When I see Charlie, I’m gonna murder him. We’ll have to film the rest of the season without him. Kenny can deal.” Owen only realizes what he’s said when BooBoo shoots him a look. Y/N looks at the two in confusion, before looking back at Owen. 

“You’re an actor?” He nods and watches as her face goes from confused to angry. “And you got undressed in a mall? How stupid are you?” She punctuates the last sentence with punches to his arm. BooBoo giggles in true BooBoo fashion as Owen rubs his arm. He watches her take out her phone and he looks over her shoulder as she opens twitter. She goes to the search bar, pauses, and then looks up at him. 

“Full name?” 

“Oh um, Owen Joyner.” He watches her type it in and breathes a sigh of relief as nothing but Alex edits pop up. She tries Instagram next, then TikTok, and gets the same answers as before. Nothing about him being naked in a mall, just fan edits of him and him as Alex. 

“You are so lucky no one saw you dude, your career would be over.” She says, closing her phone and putting in her pocket. “What were you thinking?” He can’t help but feel scolded and slightly cowers in response. She notices and immediately softens. “Sorry, I just met you, I shouldn't be so mean.” A pause. “But that was still really stupid.” BooBoo giggles and Owen shoots him a look before nodding and looking back at Y/N. 

“Yeah but, it was a dare.” 

“And you just accepted it?” Owen feels his cheeks go red and looks at his feet. 

“Well, yeah. We wanna win.” Y/N giggles and looks between the two boys. 

“Seriously? So what is this? Some sort of dare game night?” The boys nod, then BooBoo lights up and reaches into his pocket for the next dare. 

“Speaking of, the cashier at the store gave me the next dare. Are you ready?” Owen groans and BooBoo takes it as an affirmative. He opens the envelope and quickly glances at Y/N before reading it aloud for Owen. 

“Take a picture in a photo booth with a stranger.” Y/N glances at the card and sees words on the back too. 

“There’s something on the back.” BooBoo flips it and begins to giggle again. 

“No way. Oh man Owen.” 

“Me! Why me? I just walked naked around a mall!” 

“Because it’s asking you to kiss a stranger and my girl would kill me if I did this.” Y/N blanches at that and begins to slowly and hopefully discreetly back away from the two boys. But Owen catches her. 

“Hey.” He looks nervous and begins to fiddle with his fingers. “You don’t have to! Obviously! I mean, you already saved me once, but, like I kinda know you now and you’ve already seen me shirtless...” He trails off and flashes puppy dog eyes at the girl. She huffs and groans and finally, “Fine. Let’s get this over with. Y’all better win this stupid game though.” Owen smiles bright and Y/N tries to ignore the butterflies in her stomach at the sight. She just met this boy for god sakes! 

The three young adults head back into the mall to one of the strips that has a photo booth. BooBoo giggles as he all but shoves the two into the small area, singsonging a “good luck” before pulling the curtain closed. 

Awkward silence falls over the two as they squeeze together on the small seat. They smile nervously at each other as they hear BooBoo drop coins into the slot outside. 

“Um, so, do you wanna like -” 

SNAP! 

They giggle and look at the camera with smiles in time for the next one. 

SNAP!

Y/N looks back at Owen and, in a moment of confidence, grabs Owen’s shirt and brings his face closer to his. 

SNAP!

He glances at her lips, licks his own, then they’re kissing. His lips are soft and she sinks into him. She feels his tongue lick her bottom lip and almost lets a moan slip as she opens her mouth a bit for him. They don’t even hear the last snap, too caught up in each other. Her hands move to his hair and his hold her hips tight. They break for air eventually, eyes closed as they breathe in and giggle. 

“That was um...” Y/N nods. “Yeah. That was, yeah.” She feels him tilt his head towards her again for another kiss, but the curtain opening pulls them apart. They jump apart, as much as they can in the small booth, and stare at BooBoo like they were caught doing something bad. He’s smirking and shaking the photo strip in his hands. 

“Oh yeah, we’re definitely winning.” Owen breathes out a laugh and Y/N nods, taking BooBoo’s offered hand to help her out. 

“Um, I better, go, yeah, I should go. I hope you guys, uh, win or something.” Y/N hikes her purse up her shoulder and begins to walk away, eyes on her feet and hands shaking as they go into her pockets. She’s almost to the exit when a hand wraps around her upper arm. 

“Hey wait up!” Owen. “Um, I just, that was, that was something right? I wasn’t imagining that? That was like, could I have um, number? Could I have your number?” He’s stuttering, face red and hands shaking in his pockets. Y/N has to giggle, feeling a bit calmer knowing she’s not the only one who’s feeling something. 

“Yeah, that was number worthy.” They smile while exchanging numbers, then keep smiling as Owen leans and kisses her cheek. 

“Thanks for saving my ass twice tonight,” he whispers in her ear before leaning back. Y/N nods and begins to back away. 

“Yeah well, it’s a pretty nice ass.” With that she turns and practically runs back to her car, not believing what a night it's been. 

~ ~ ~

“And we’re tied! Although, there is one more dare on the table.” Charlie giggles, knowing exactly what it is, saving for last for a reason. Carolynn swipes it off the table before anyone else can, ripping it open and smiling at the words. 

“Kiss a member of your team.” She sees Jeremy smile and buff up, getting ready for smooch from his wife since they were partners. Carolynn smiles and leans towards him, before quickly grabbing Tori’s neck and giving her a chaste kiss on the lips. Everyone laughs and cheers, Jeremy pouting at his girl while she grabs his hand. 

“Well then, unless any of the boys kissed a stranger in a photo booth, the girls win.” BooBoo goes to raise his hand, but Owen stops him. BooBoo shoots him a look but Owen shakes his head, hoping he gets why. Why he doesn’t want to mention Y/N. Sweet, life-saving Y/N who didn’t even know who he was or hell, who BooBoo was. Who just saw a random guy in need of saving and didn’t think twice about helping him. BooBoo lets it go, and Owen nods a thanks. He cheers for the girls as they accept their win, hand rubbing the picture strip in his pocket, and mind preparing a text to Y/N as soon as he can escape to his room. 

Maybe dare night wasn’t such a bad idea.

[kevindayscrown]

The one where Kevin Day falls in love with an ice hockey player.

Part 1 The lost bet

Anything included in this head canon takes place the semester after the Foxes won the championship against the Ravens.

Disclaimer: I know next to nothing about varsity teams in the United States so excuse any false information. If you haven’t read the Introductory post, you are adviced to do so or you won’t understand shit. 

It started with a bet.

A lost bet.

Of course, the Foxes of the Exy team are used to placing bets amongst themselves over the smallest and silliest things. It’s when they include others that it gets complicated.

Ask any of them, and they will not be able to tell you how it started, probably to avoid the embarrassment. Ask the ice hockey players, and they will gladly fill you in.

It started in the athlete’s dining hall. The unhealthy featured option for the day was pie. Nicky, of course, had left class early just so he would be able to get a piece for himself and his cousin with the sweet tooth. Pie ran out early if you weren’t from the firsts to wait in line.

It just so happened that a group of hockey players were behind Nicky in line. Nicky, with the remarkable ability of not being able to shut up, started blubbering about how sweets were not allowed in the dorms after Kevin kept bitching about it.

One of the ice hockey players – Bryce Matthews, left defenseman – dared to make the following statement:

“Bet you that Day wouldn’t even dare eat today’s dessert. That guy has his racquet stuck up his ass. Doubt he would ruin that freaky diet of his.”

Of course, that was a challenge, a bet. Nicky wouldn’t dare not accept it. Especially from their ‘sworn enemies’.

“Oh, really? Bet you I can get Kevin to eat the entire thing.”

The two of them agreed to it after also discussing the terms for the winning and the losing side. Nicky knew he had to get Kevin to eat from the pie.

He didn’t.

“Kevin, I’m telling you, we will all regret it.”

Kevin gave him a blank stare and pushed the plate away, thinking that Nicky was messing around, trying to annoy him. He soon realized that wasn’t the case.

“Seems like we are going to have guests at the rink today,” a voice said from behind him. Kevin turned around, finding none other than Jiang Eric, standing there with his two lackeys at his side, grinning.

It was unusual for the Ice Hockey Captain to take pleasure in such stupid bets his own team usually engaged in.

But this involved Kevin.

And if there was anything Eric was more passionate about than Ice Hockey, it was annoying Kevin Day.

“What did you do this time?” Aaron snapped at Nicky.

“I may or may not have placed a bet.”

“See you there after practice!” Eric called and fist bumped his teammates as they exited the dining hall, their laughter echoing around the room.

Turns out, these were the terms that Nicky had agreed to:

The losing side’s team would have to come over to the winning side’s facilities and spend the entire evening after afternoon practice playing the other team’s sport.

Which meant that the Exy team now had to put on skates and spend two whole hours balancing on ice.

“Hemmick, I swear, I’m gonna murder you.” Kevin was furious. Of course, they couldn’t just not go, it was a matter of pride.

They were in the lounge when afternoon practice was over, discussing how they would manage to not make fools out of themselves. Allison was the only one who was having fun with this, seeing as she already knew how to skate.

Andrew was munching on that piece of pie from earlier.

(Neil may or may not have smuggled it for him after it was left untouched.)

“Look, I just think we should all be blaming Kevin for not trusting me,” Nicky said, holding his hands up in defense. The foxes let out exasperated sighs of frustration.

“Why are y’all sitting on your asses?” Heads turned as Wymack spoke. The coach wouldn’t admit it, but perhaps seeing his foxes on skates was the most amusing thought he had had in a while. “Get going. Or they will think you are all a bunch of cowards.”

The Foxhole Rink was as big as the university’s Exy court, though there had been talks of reconstructions, seeing as the team had been climbing up the ranks. The Ice Hockey team – all six players of the starting lineup – were waiting for the Exy players.

Eric’s grin from earlier was still plastered on his face as he held up a pair of skates and threw them at Kevin, who caught them just in time.

“Welcome to my domain, Day.”

The Exy Foxes were led to the locker rooms and were given spare equipment that would fit them best. It was rather similar to their own equipment so they easily slipped into it.

Then the ice hockey players came in with the skates. Spares of all sizes that the Foxes could choose from according to their size. They passed them down one by one and helped the exy players tie them properly.

“Need help Day?”

Kevin had managed to squeeze his one foot in but it was harder than expected to figure out all the laces and the straps. Admitting he needed help, however, would be just another blow to his confidence.

Eric kneeled down nonetheless and picked up Kevin’s foot. He secured the skates and then held the blades up, attaching them as well. Kevin grumbled something under his breath but Eric doubted it was a thanks.

They only exchanged a glance before Kevin tried getting onto his feet.

“Hey, this isn’t that bad,” Matt said. Indeed, balancing on the blades while on a stable floor wasn’t too bad. It was tricky at best, but the foxes knew tricky.

It was when they slid on the ice that they realized exactly how tricky it was.

The first one to fall on his face was Aaron. The Foxes rarely heard him curse so colorfully.

Dan was clinging onto the side of the rink with wobbly legs that threatened to give out at any moment. Matt was easing into it slowly. Allison gracefully skated past them with a small flick of her hair.

Kevin was also holding onto the ledge, deciding there was no chance he would let go.

That was, until he saw Eric glide in, looking surprisingly graceful for a six-foot five guy with all this heavy equipment on him.

Kevin slowly pushed himself off of the ledge and slid across the ice, holding his hands out for balance while also holding onto the hockey stick. He couldn’t understand how Eric could move around, block hockey packs and coordinate his team at the same time.

“It’s not as hard as it looks,” Eric said, which somehow annoyed Kevin more.

“At least it explains why you are all such thickheads,” Kevin snapped back.

Kevin noticed Eric’s eyes narrowing underneath the helmet. The goaltender moved to him in a way that made Kevin try to move backwards. His left foot slipped and he lost his balance.

A hand around his waist stopped him right before he hit the ice. He looked up and saw Eric, his hockey stick dropped as he had moved to catch Kevin from falling.

Eric wasn’t sure why he had done it. The first lesson to ice skating was that you would fall many times before you’d even be able move. It was mostly harmless.

He told himself he had just felt responsible for startling Kevin and immediately pulled him upright.

“Part your legs.”

“Excuse me?” Kevin asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Part your legs. Keep just the right amount of distance between your feet. Lean your body slightly forward and find your balance.” As Eric talked, he pressed one hand on Kevin’s stomach and the other on his back, adjusting his upper body properly.

Kevin was too stunned to push him away.

Thankfully, Andrew had not been in the first six to enter the rink or he would had probably tried to stab Eric with the blade of his skates for touching Kevin.

“Ready to try playing? I promise I’ll be gentle.” Eric said and winked as he picked up his stick. Kevin convinced himself it was a trick of the light as he moved forward.

[khaleesiofalicante]

This is War - A Crack Fic

All the chaotic, horny energy today had to be channelled somewhere, right? 

You can read the fic here on ao3 too :)

Central park was a vision to behold. There were no mundanes within sight. The warlocks had made sure to glamour the entire area just for today.

“We are not shadowhunters,” Ragnor had said. “We don’t half ass things.”

He of course had left immediately after securing the parameter saying he didn’t want to be involved in another one of Magnus’ childish squabbles.

“Welcome everyone,” Simon said, standing on a podium hadn’t been there before. Where was that from?

“Why is he wearing a robe?” Helen whispered to her wife. Aline just shrugged.

“For far too long we have been trying to settle this debate,” Simon said in a deep voice that was not that deep. “But today, we must settle on an answer.”

Jace rolled his eyes. “Can we get to the good part?”

“Jace, you promised you’ll let me have my moment!” Simon hissed at him and then cleared his throat. “Today we will decide the most pressing crisis of our time. Who broke the coffee maker in the Lightwood-Bane household?”

“Wasn’t me,” Magnus shrugged. “If I did, then I would have fixed it immediately. It was obviously Alec.”

“Liar!” Alec gasped. “I love coffee. I love that coffee maker. Why would I break it?”

“Well, to love is to destr-” Jace spoke up.

“Honey, not now,” Clary shushed him.

“Listen, the kids can’t obviously reach the coffee maker yet,” Magnus pointed out. “And I’m not the one who takes out my frustration on inanimate objects. I mean we all know what happened to the kettle in the institute.”

There was a soft murmur from the shadowhunters of the New York institute.

“I WAS HAVING A BAD DAY!” Alec argued.

“Just admit you broke the coffee maker, Alec,” Magnus said.

“I didn’t do it!” Alec replied. “You’ve always been jealous of the coffee maker.”

Magnus snorted. “Jealous? Me? Pfft. You’re the one who is obsessed enough with the darn thing to name it.”

“Treat lightly, Magnus,” Alec said. “Charles is already dead. Why would you-”

“ENOUGH!” Simon said into the microphone. When did he get that? “Like I said, this childish argument has gone for too long. Today we will settle it like the civilized adults that we are.”

Simon bent down and picked up a giant gun.

“PAINTBALL FIGHT, Y’ALL!” he yelled.

Everybody started cheering – with way too much enthusiasm for a Monday morning.

“Alright. Magnus, Alec – whoever loses the game will agree that they broke the coffee maker, and we will put this whole thing behind us and move on. Do you agree to these terms?”

Magnus and Alec looked at each other and then nodded at Simon.

“Alright!” Simon grinned. “Pick your teams!”

Little Rafe ran towards Magnus.

Alec gasped. “Betrayed by my own blood.”

Max ran towards Alec. “We are going to win. I always win.”

Alec grinned at that. “I pick Jace.”

Jace grinned back and ran up to his parabatai. “Ohhhh y’all are so going down.”

Magnus laughed. “We’ll see about that, blondie. I pick Emma.”

“Oh damn,” someone said from the crowd.

“Emma, this is a paintball fight,” Alec pointed out. “You can’t use Cortana.”

“Don’t worry, it’s just for emotional support,” she said with a wicked gleam.

“Alright,” Alec said. “I pick Julian.”

“Isabelle,” Magnus called.

“KIT!” Alec yelled.

“TIBERIUS!” Magnus thundered.

“Count yourself lucky that it’s daytime,” Alec said. “Otherwise, I would have called Lily and she would have destroyed all of you!”

“Already making excuses for your imminent failure?” Magnus chuckled. “I choose Helen and Aline!”

“You can’t pick them both!” Alec argued.

“I can and I just did,” Magnus winked.

“Yeah, Helen and I won’t fighting in opposing sides,” Aline shrugged. “Sorry, Alec.”

“I got the lesbians!” Magnus laughed. “You are going down, Alexander.”

“You wish,” Alec said and whistled. Diego showed up behind him. “I got the Inquisitor!”

“Clarissa,” Magnus said. “The Angel’s chosen one.”

“Babe,” Jace said. “You can’t!”

“Everything is fair in love and war,” Clary shrugged, pointing a gun that was bigger than her. “And this is war, biatch!”

“Kieran!” Alec called and the unseelie king materialised from some corner and ruffled Max’s hair.

“Mark!” Magnus called.

“Cris-”

“Oh no you don’t,” Cristina lifted her finger warningly. She was perched on top of a tree. “I’m not going to be a part of this madness. I got a medicine kit right here. So, if anyone needs me, just holler, okay?”

“And I will excuse myself as the referee of course,” Simon pointed out. “Alright. Standard paintball rules apply. No serious injuries. If you get shot, then you’re off the game. Last team standing wins. And no runes or downworld powers. We are gonna fight mundane style.”

“YAS!” Kit cheered, already cuddling his paintball gun.

“Alright then,” Simon waved a flag. Where did he get THAT from? Did he have a bag of equipment just lying around?

“LET THE BATTLE OF THE COFEE MAKER BEGIN!” Simon yelled.

And then there was chaos.

The warlocks – mostly Ragnor – had changed the area into a paintball area. There were places to hide behind and attack from. It was really elaborate. Maybe Ragnor had more fun designing this space than he had let on.

“Alright,” Alec said to his team. “Let’s keep this simple. Take down anyone you see.”

“Anyone? What about our significant others?” Jace asked. “Do we shoot them down too?”

“Of course not!” Alec chastised. “We are not animals! Is that clear?”

“Yes, Consul!” everyone yelled.

“I DON’T CARE IF THEY ARE YOUR BOO OR YOUR BAE, THEY ARE GOING DOWN,” Magnus said to his team. “FIND YOUR SIGNIFICANT OTHERS FIRST. THEY WILL NOT EXPECT YOU TO STRIKE! USE THAT TO YOUR ADVANTAGE! THERE ARE NO SIGNIFICANT OTHERS. ONLY SIGNIFICANT ENEMIES. IS THAT CLEAR?”

“YES CAPTAIN!” they all cheered.

They all broke out and ran to find their targets.

It wasn’t even five minutes since the game had begun and Kit ran straight into Ty.

“Hey,” Kit waved.

Ty pounced and pinned Kit to the ground. He pointed his gun at his boyfriend.

“Alec said we can’t hurt our significant others,” Kit put up his arms.

“Our captain said no such thing,” Ty replied. “You’re not-…Why are you grinning? I got you pinned down.”

“It’s my favorite place to be,” Kit smiled. “I open my eyes and there you are. You’re beautiful.”

“Stop flirting with me when I’m trying to fight you,” Ty blushed and then held out his hand. “Fine. I didn’t see you and you didn’t see me.”

Kit winked at him and ran away.

Mark and Kieran found each other next.  They both held their guns at each other – neither of them shooting.

“This is childish,” Kieran pointed out. “I’m already bored.”

“Wanna go sit on that tree and hang out with Cristina?” Mark winked.

Kieran grinned and the two of them ran away too.

Helen and Aline looked at them and shrugged.

“We could just live stream the whole thing,” Helen pointed out. “Lily would like to see this.”

“I don’t know what that means but if that’s what you want to do and that’s what we shall do,” Aline smiled and and kissed her wife.

“Clary,” Jace said in relief when he saw her. “Thank god! I thought someone-”

There was sudden pain in his chest and he looked down to notice the big green splotch on this t-shirt.

“You...You shot me,” Jace said, sounding hurt.

“Jace, I’ve already stabbed you in the past and you once set me on fire,” Clary rolled her eyes and ran away to find her next target. “Get with it!”

“JULIAN ATTICUS BLACKTHORN,” Emma yelled and ran towards him. “YOU’RE GOING DOWN.”

“Not today,” he winked at her.

Emma blushed furiously just before attacking him. It wasn’t easy. Emma was skilled at close range combat, but Julian knew all her weak spots. So, they were even.

They wrestled for a while before Julian pinned her to the ground. He was breathing hard, his pupils dialed.

“I’m sorry, but this is strictly business,” he shrugged with a mischievous grin.

“But we are still on for tonight, right?” Emma asked. “I finally got a reservation at that Italian place you like.”

Julian’s eyes softened a litte. “You did?”

“Yes,” Emma smiled and hooked her legs on his ankles and flipped them in the blink of an eye. She shot him on the stomach and kissed him on his lips. “See ya at seven!”

Unlike everyone else Isabelle was not going to be fooled or manipulated by her significant other. Thank the Angel Simon wasn’t a part of this. She really liked the feel of the paintball gun in her hands. It was huge, powerful, messy and colorful too. Her kind of weapon.

She ran around the park and took down the others mercilessly. There were only a few of them remaining now – everyone else had already been shot.

But not Isabelle.

She didn’t care about the coffee maker of course. The argument was a ridiculous one.

She just wanted to win.

In the distance, she saw Emma take down Kit and Diego shoot Ty. She was off to destroy the Inquisitor when she had a familiar cry.

“Baby,” she ran to him. “My little blueberry muffin. Are you okay?”

“I fell,” Max sobbed. “Somebody pushed me.”

“Tell me who did this and I will-”

“ISABELLE DON’T!” she heard Magnus yell.

But it was too late.

There was a giant blue splotch on her white blouse.

“Max?” she asked in betrayal.

The boy just giggled and ran away.

In this distance, she now saw Diego covered in red, with a very satisfied Rafael hanging upside down from a tree.

And then the rest of them went feral.

“Surrender, Alexander,” Magnus said an hour later, holding up his gun, which was covered in glitter. “Everyone on your team is down.”

“Well, I don’t see anyone from your team standing either,” Alec pointed out.

“I still am,” Magnus said.

“So am I,” Alec replied.

“Give it up, Alexander!”

“Never,” Alec said adamantly. “This is for the coffee maker. I loved it so much!”

“Then you shouldn’t have broken it,” Magnus argued.

“I didn’t!” Alec said in frustration. “I love it so much because…because that’s the first thing you bought for me.”

“Oh,” Magnus said, the grip on his gun softening lightly.

“I know you have bought me so many expensive gifts but the coffee maker…it’s always been my favorite. I remember walking into your apartment one day, we weren’t even properly back together then, and you just bought it for me.”

“Well, you drink a lot of coffee,” Magnus grumbled.

“Yeah and you noticed. And you got me something so I wouldn’t feel weird in your apartment. You bought it so make me so comfortable. That’s when I realized I really, really like you.”

Magnus blushed a little. “Well, then now it sounds stupid to think you broke the thing.”

“That’s because I didn’t, Magnus!”

“Well, I didn’t either!” Magnus put up his hands. “In fact, the day it broke, I wasn’t even home. I was in the spiral labyrinth all day.”

“I know! I wasn’t home either! I had to go to the Mexico institute for an emergency meeting, so I called Jace to babysit the ki-”

They both stared at each other.

“JACE LIGHTWOOD HERONDALE!” Magnus’ voice boomed across the park. “DID YOU BREAK ALEC’S COFFEE MAKER?”

Jace was sweating. “Listen, I was gonna say something and then y’all started fighting and it was very awkward, and I was looking for the right time and then Simon came up with this idea and I thought 'hey we haven’t done a fun group activity in a long time and so why not?', ya know?”

Magnus and Alec looked at each other.

“Everybody,” Alec called. “Change of plans. Attack my parabatai.”

“AND SHOW NO MERCY!” Magnus yelled.

[tchallasbabymama]

all of your love

Hey y’all! Here’s Chapter 4 of my Playlist series. Make sure you catch up on the series (and check out my other stuff) by checking out my masterlist HERE. 

Let me know what y’all think!

This one is nasty (18+ as always), enjoy!

Word count: 6,195

T’Challa woke up Tuesday morning eager as a kid on Christmas. Every second that went by brought him closer to Ashanti and he couldn’t wait any longer, his excited nerves building to critical mass within him. Natasha and Wanda had noticed his constant texting and smiling at his beads, and worked hard the entire time he was there to get the truth out of him about who he was talking to. They tried asking Okoye, but she was a steel trap so the two of them cornered him in the living room just before his departure. Their suspicions were confirmed when he proudly pulled up a picture of her to show them.

“Damn she fine, who is that?” Sam sauntered into the room as T’Challa quickly shut the projection down and cleared his throat.

“She is none of your concern.”

“His girlfriend,” Natasha said at the same time before smirking into her cup of coffee. T’Challa looked at her in disbelief and she shrugged back at him in response. “Oh please, he would’ve found out eventually.”

The king rolled his eyes and left the room in a huff to go pack his things.

“He’s so pissy today,” Natasha said, a smirk still firmly planted on her face.

“He misses her, it’s adorable,” Wanda responded.

“Shit, I would too. Y’all saw her.”

T’Challa swept back in the room, bags in hand, calling to Okoye on his beads.

“General, are you ready to go?”

“Ewe kumkani wam, be down in a moment.”

Cap rounded the corner and picked up on T’Challa’s anxious energy. He turned to look at the other faces and a smile crept up his before he turned to his friend.

“Ready to get back to Ashanti, huh?”

A chorus of “Ashanti?!” broke out.

“Why’d he get to know her name and we didn't?” Wanda asked incredulously.

“I was getting there but the bird interrupted,” T’Challa said with a shrug, referring to Sam who rolled his eyes and waved goodbye to the king before leaving the room. 

“Hey, uh, can I talk to you for a second before you go?”

“Of course Steve, what is it?”

The two of them ducked off into the hallway for privacy.

“How is he?” Steve asked of his friend.

“He is responding to treatment really well, you should come see him sometime. Shuri has removed most of the words, and living with the Border tribe seems to be good for his mental state.”

Steve smiled from ear to ear. Hearing about Bucky’s progress warmed his heart and he seriously considered hopping on the jet with T’Challa right then and there.

“How about next week sometime? I have some things I need to finish up here, but I’d love to come see him. And see Wakanda properly this time.”

The two heroes shook hands and returned to the living room. At that moment Vision floated up through the floor and Okoye rounded the corner.

“I will never get used to that.”

“My apologies, general.”

“Apology accepted. My king?”

“Yes, we should get going. I will see you all again, hopefully not too soon.”

They said their goodbyes as the two Wakandans made their way to the Royal Talon Fighter to head home. Once Okoye had them in the air, T’Challa retired to one of the jet’s two bedrooms to change into sweatpants and a t-shirt and take a nap on the plush Wakandan mattress he missed so much. He was out like a light.

“My king, we are home,” Okoye lightly shook T’Challa awake. He got up and changed back into his clothes before exiting the ship. The entire royal family was there to greet him, much to his surprise. He greeted his mother and sister before landing on his cousin. 

“Umzala, I thought you were heading to Oakland,” he said as they dapped each other up.

“I’m about to head out now, just figured I’d wait a few and say hey to my favorite cousin.”

“You said I was your favorite cousin!” Shuri butted in.

“Hush, Dr. Frankenstein,” N’Jadaka remarked back at her. Shuri was shocked, but her face quickly morphed into amusement as a laugh erupted from her lips.

“If I’m Dr Frankenstein you just called yourself the monster,” Shuri cackled as she walked away, most likely going back to her lab to tinker with the laws of physics or something simple like that. 

“Welcome home son,” Ramonda lightly pushed her nephew aside. “How are the Avengers?”

T’Challa rolled his eyes at their incompetence and inability to work as a fluid team.

“Inept, mama. The captain might be visiting soon though,” he said with an eyebrow raise, knowing his mother had a little crush on Captain America.

“Oh, will he? I’ll have to be sure to spend some one on one time with the captain while he’s here.”

“Ew, Auntie.”

“Mama, please stop.”

“What? I still got it!” Ramonda turned and walked back towards the palace.

The cousins just looked at eachother and shuddered before N’Jadaka took off in the same jet T’Challa just arrived on. 

The next morning, T’Challa woke up later than most days. When he returns from a mission he likes to keep his workload light the following day, so he caught up on more of the sleep he had been missing out on. The very first thing he did after waking up was send Ashanti a “good morning beautiful” text, and before his feet even hit the floor she had responded.

Ashanti: Good morning handsome. How did you sleep?

T: Much better in my own bed, but still not as good as when you were in my arms.

A: Don’t make me blush.

T: But it’s so cute when you do.

T’Challa dragged himself out of bed and straight to his shower, turning on the hot water and turning his jungle bathroom into a sauna. 

“Kim, shuffle between my recently played songs.” He called out to the AI housed in his beads and around his quarters.

“Now playing ‘all of your love’ by Luke James,” the smooth automated voice rang out. A smile spread across his face as he remembered his picnic with Ashanti by the lake. They tapped beads and made a joint playlist, this album being one of Ashanti’s favorites. He had listened to it multiple times while he was away, missing her with every note.

You got the kinda loving 

That'll break a motherfucker's knees, baby

Got me begging, got me craving

I just wanna get a squeeze, baby

Don't leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me baby, yeah)

All of your love, yeah

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

(I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

He stepped under the faux rainfall and let it wash over his body, lathering up with some mango scented black soap. After his perfectly sculpted body was clean he turned off the water and air dried while covering his smooth brown skin in cocoa butter.

The king was looking forward to his day for two reasons: he would get to spend time with his little sister during the day and then Ashanti at night. For his first major stop of the day, he and Shuri went to the mines to check on the progress of the latest excavation efforts. The mining tribe elder K’Hari was intent on setting T’Challa up with his daughter Tamala, so they quickly made their escape to Shuri’s lab where they spent the rest of the day playfully bickering over who makes better gadgets while testing out some of Shuri’s latest inventions. T’Challa knew he would not win the argument, but enjoyed annoying his little sister. 

Around lunchtime T’Challa made his way back to the palace to eat with Ramonda in her garden. She wasted no time cutting to the chase.

“So this Ashanti, you have feelings for her?”

T’Challa nearly choked on his water, not expecting to cross into that territory so soon. 

“Uh, yes, umama, I do. It is still early though, the other night was only our first da-” he stopped when he saw the incredulous look on her face. She sucked her teeth at him.

“You brought a girl to the palace after one date? Do you make a habit of this?”

“No mama, I promise. The last time was when you caught me a few years back. With Ashanti it just...felt right.”

“Hmm...Lets hope it is. Bringing girls in the palace you barely know, I may not have been there your whole life, but I definitely raised you better than that...I can see she is different though, not like the riff raff you usually sniff around. That last girl you dated was horrid-”

T’Challa listened as Ramonda read his love life for filth, and all he could do was sit there.

“-skirts up to her ass, heels way too high for the setting. Thank Bast you’ve found someone good. Good for you, and good for Wakanda.”

“Woah, mama, we have only had one date and you are talking about Wakanda already? I do not even know if she would want to be queen one day.”

“No, but you want her to. I can see it in your eyes when you look at her. Yes, it’s early but you’re in love, unyana wam. The other day, watching the two of you, I could see how...easy you were with each other. I miss that easiness I had with your father…” T’Challa grabbed her hand as her eyes got misty. Ramonda blinked the tears away and turned the conversation back to T’Challa and Ashanti. “Everyone can see it, and I bet she’s walking around just as googly-eyed as you are.”

______

Ashanti and Kwame walked through the market arm-in-arm, picking up ingredients as they went.

“So tell me about this mining tribe hottie,” Ashanti spoke after a comfortable silence.

“Sis, I have one word for you: biceps. He could benchpress me and I just- woo that’s hot as fuck.” Kwame said, picking up a fan from a vendor and fanning himself dramatically before paying the old lady who ran the store.

“You really just bought a fan to be dramatic?”

“It’s practical and a prop!”

The two roommates broke out into giggles.

“Anyways, his name is Omar. Here’s his picture, isn't he cute? Ugh those dimples, I could swim in them.”

Ashanti flipped through a couple pictures of the two of them before Kwame shut the hologram down.

“You’re scrolling too much, you might see things you can't unsee.”

“Good looking out, friend.”

“So what are you serving kumkani other than that pussy?” Kwame asked loudly.

“Will you keep your voice down?! I’m not trying to announce this to the world.” Ashanti whisper-yelled at him before he threw his hands up in surrender. 

“My bad, my bad. Hey did you close the shop today or did you finally hire someone?”

“No, not yet. I haven’t even really been looking, I should get on that. But, uh, yeah I closed early. I'm there 7 days a week, the people can handle me being out for a few hours,” Ashanti said, Kwame nodding along in agreement. “Hey, want to stop by my parents’ place for lunch?”

“Girl when have I ever said no to food?” Kwame responded with excitement. He never said no to food. 

“Should we bring something back for B?”

“No she’s probably going to stay a couple nights with Kiki. You know, so they can ‘catch up’ or whatever. Honestly, its like she forgets i can see right through her.” Kwame rolled his eyes.

“Even I can see they have feelings for eachother-”

“Girl blind people see they have feelings for each other. It’s her first experience with a girl so I don’t want to push her but damnit just do gay shit already sis!” 

They arrived at Zana Cafe right as Ashanti’s riotous laughter subsided. 

“Hey babygirl, hey Kwame! Where’s my other daughter?” Chidi asked, hugging them both.

The three of them sat at a table near the kitchen and away from the hustle and bustle.

“She’s out ignoring her feelings for Kiki.”

“Kiki Odunsi? She’s a nice girl, Binta has good taste.”

“That’s what I said, Baba, but she’s just too nervous to act on it. Yet she pushes me into the king’s arms-”

“I’m sure I don't want to hear the rest of that statement, but your mom will be back soon and I’m sure she’d love to hear all about it. You kids want some food? We got some curry that just finished, you have perfect timing.”

“We felt it in our souls,” Kwame half-joked. Chidi disappeared into the kitchen and reappeared with their food, letting them dig in while he ran the restaurant. 

About halfway through lunch Kwame got a message from Omar that made his entire face turn red as his lip disappeared under his top teeth.

“Go ahead,” Ashanti said, already knowing the content of the message without having to see it. He either sent a nasty picture or a dirty text, and either way she knew the second Kwame saw it he was mentally already sucking Omar’s dick. 

He got up, giving her a quick peck on the cheek and waving goodbye to Chidi as he all but ran to his dick appointment.

“Well he sure got out of here in a hurry,” Chidi came over and sat across from his daughter. 

“A boy texted him.”

“Should’ve known,” he said before clearing his throat. “So, the king...how is that going?”

“You actually want to talk about it?”

“Of course, you’re my daughter. It’s just hard to see you as an adult sometimes, but I’m getting better at it.”

“Well he and I really connect on a lot of levels. He’s so smart, and sweet, and considerate and I know we only had that one date but I feel like I’ve known him for years. We have another date tonight, I’m making him mama’s pirri pirri chicken.”

Chidi sat back in amazement. Here was his little girl...in love...with the king of Wakanda. 

“You know, that’s what your mother made the first time she cooked for me.”

“It is?!”

“Mhm, that’s how she hooked me. Been trapped ever since.”

Ashanti playfully hit her father’s arm and thought about her meal plan for later.

“Well, Baba, I have to go prep for tonight. Give Mama my love when she gets back.” Ashanti kissed her father on the cheek and headed back to her empty home.

______

Her “Sacral Chakra” playlist blasted through the house as she danced in her underwear to Missy Elliott’s “Throw it Back” while stirring the rice one last time. Everything was ready, and she still had plenty of time before he was supposed to show up. She put the oven on “warm” and stuffed the dishes inside before removing the rice from the heat and trotting upstairs to get herself ready for the life changing dick-down she was surely about to receive.

She changed the music to fit the mood she wanted to set, switching to her “Sexy” playlist and swooning at the sound of one of her favorite songs tickling her ears. 

Like a flame to a moth 

I'm addicted to your sauce, so bad

I want it 24/7, 365, 911

I need it fast

Don't leave me 'lone (so)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone (so fast)

Leave me 'lone, leave me 'lone right here

(911 terrible baby, yeah)

I want it all

Want it all, want it all

Want it all, want it all, my dear

All of your love

(Give it all to me, baby)

All of your love, yes

(It's for me it's for you, baby)

All of your love

('Cause I need it)

Give me all of your love (ooh)

Luke’s voice carried her as she took a dip in the tub with a colorful jasmine and ylang ylang bath bomb before moisturizing with rose-infused shea butter. Her skin smelled like a forbidden garden, just the way she liked it. Then she trimmed her pubic hair, cleaning up her bikini line and giving him a clear, well-groomed path to her treasure trove. Finally, she painted her nails and toes white to stand out against her skin and avoid clashing with her colorful, off the shoulder, bodycon ankara dress. Ashanti chose to keep her braids down and makeup light again, knowing all that extra makeup would get ruined anyway. For a final touch she slid on her strappy gold stilettos, knowing just how much he loved them from their kimoyo chats. 

The doorbell rang and Ashanti took a deep breath before straightening her dress and heading to the door. When she opened it both of their jaws dropped. There he was in an all-black suit with a black shirt underneath, a purple pocket square, and that damn hoop in his ear. He looked like the black panther he was and Ashanti wanted nothing more than to be his prey.

His eyes roamed her body and landed back on her face before he stepped over the threshold and pulled her in for a deep, passionate kiss. Their tongues danced alongside each other as both of their hands reacquainted themselves with the other’s body. T’Challa’s hand steadily sliding down her backside brought her out of her daze and she broke the kiss. He frowned as though she had taken away his favorite toy.

“Dinner, your highness.” She said before giving him one last peck and escaping to the kitchen with him on her heels. As she tried to maneuver around the kitchen, T’Challa refused to let go of her waist, whispering sweet nothings in her ear every few seconds about how much he missed her.

“T’Challa, go sit down, I’ll bring you your food,” She giggled as he kissed her cheek repeatedly. “Go!”

He let her go with a slap on the ass and sat down at the table, watching her float around the kitchen. After a couple minutes, Ashanti set two plates full of delicious looking food down on the table. She cracked open a bottle of palm wine and poured them both a generous amount. 

“Are you trying to get me drunk Miss Mostafa?”

“Maybe. Cheers.” Their glasses clinked together and they both took a sip without breaking eye contact.

“Tell me what you think,” Ashanti pointed at his plate to get him to focus. The king took one bite and his eyes rolled back in his head.

“You made this?!”

“Ha ha, T’Challa. Yes, I made this. It’s my umama’s recipe though. And make sure you save room for dessert” she said while digging into her food. 

“My compliments to the chef,” he said as he seductively brought his lips around his forkful of food, still staring into her soul.

The two of them caught up on their time apart, what little they didn’t already discuss in their kimoyo chats. T’Challa regaled her with stories of his work with the Avengers, and he watched her in admiration as she spoke about the happenings at Taj’s.

“Ready for our next course?” Ashanti asked the king.

“I am.”

Ashanti scooped the warm mango cobbler into two bowls and topped each one with ice cream. She set T’Challa’s bowl down in front of him and went to take her seat when his hand wrapped around her wrist and tugged her back towards him. 

“Sit on my lap,” he said in a low grumble.

Ashanti’s feet carried her back to the king and she turned to sit across his lap.

“Not like that, face me.”

“My dress-”

“I don’t care.”

A chill went down her spine as she hiked her dress up over her thick thighs and straddled him. He reached for his bowl and scooped up some cobbler and ice cream, bringing it to her lips.

“Open.”

Her lips parted and she tasted her sugary concoction, happy it turned out how she wanted it to.

“Is it good?”

“Yes.”

“Is it sweet?” He asked, nuzzling into her neck and inhaling her scent.

“Y-yes.”

“Good. Feed it to me.”

They took turns feeding eachother the cobbler, licking the melted ice cream from each other's lips. With each bite, the king’s hand travelled further and further up Ashanti’s thigh, gripping her tight and causing her to let out the tiniest whimpers. 

He could smell her arousal and it drove him crazy. When his hands travelled up to her hips and felt no underwear she looked at him and winked, flipping the switch within him. His eyes turned almost completely black as his fingers trailed across her body directly to her clit. Ashanti jumped, but his other arm held her down. His fingers circled her clit, making more wetness drip out of her. She suckled on his bottom lip and moved her hips to get him to stop teasing her, but he wasn’t a fan of her defiance.

“Did I say move?”

His voice sent a chill down Ashanti’s spine and straight to her pussy. Another rush of liquid escaped her and T’Challa chuckled darkly.

“You like when I tell you what to do, don't you?” He asked, one hand still teasing her clit while the other gripped her jaw forcing her to look into his eyes. She nodded desperately and he laughed in her face. “I know you do, kitten. You know what I want you to do for me?”

She struggled to compose herself, his teasing becoming too much for her to handle.

“What? I’ll do anything”

“I know you will. Cum on my fingers when I fucking say so, do you understand me?” She nodded as his fingers moved down to her now dripping hole, three of them opening her up and sliding in deep while the heel of his hand pushed into her clit. He slapped her ass with his free hand. “I said, do you understand me?”

“Y-yes.”

He curled his fingers inside her, alternating between quick and slow thrusts, all while dragging the pads of his fingers across her g-spot. More wetness pooled between her legs as he dug in her, causing her to grind into his hand for even more friction.

“There you go, nasty girl. Work for it, mhm…” He licked from her collarbone to her ear before nibbling on her lobe, making her release a moan from deep within her core. “You sound so beautiful, I’m going to make you sound like this all night. Are you ready for me?”

She held on tight to his shoulders and rocked into him more, the tension building in her body.

“Yes, kumkani.”

He growled and pulled his fingers from her, placing his hands under her thighs and picking her up while she whined at the empty feeling.

“Where’s your room?” He spoke into her ear as she wound her hips against his and sucked on his neck. She pointed up the stairs, but her lack of communication frustrated him more. He needed to be inside her now.

He backed her into an empty wall and pushed his pelvis into hers. Her eyes rolled back at the feel of his third leg against her pussy.

“You want it?” He teased. She nodded vigorously as he unzipped his pants and pushed them to his feet. “Do something about it.”

She reached between them and almost cried at the feeling of his hot, pulsating dick in her hands. She couldn’t close her small hands around it, and she wondered briefly about how it would fit in her mouth. She felt the throbbing veins up and down his shaft and his length would surely fill her to the brim. She swiped her thumb over the precum oozing out the head of his dick and brought it to her lips to taste. The sweet saltiness of him set her off, and she lifted her body up before sliding down on his length.

She was too eager to be bothered by the stretch of her pussy, just wanting him inside her.

He moaned into her ear and gripped her ass tight as she enveloped him in her warmth. He wanted to keep his composure, but it slipped more with every bounce of her juicy ass onto his pelvis. The thickness of his dick pulling her clit combined with the edging from earlier had her on the verge of an orgasm already.

 After letting her get used to his size, the king decided to stop playing nice and pushed her back into the wall, staring deep into her eyes as he thrust into her body. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she held on for dear life as he busted her wide open.

“Oooh, T’Challa!”

“Hm? You like when I do that? What about this?” He lifted her and brought her down onto him, the force causing her to yell out his name between thrusts.

“T-Chal-la, oh-my-Bast-it-feels-so-good. Mmm I’m cumming, I’m cumming!” She barely rushed out before her muscles tightened and released around him, both of them moaning out in pleasure. He continued to hold her while they stared into each other’s eyes forehead to forehead, breathing heavily, until she broke the silence.

“Can I taste you?” she whispered and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. He placed her down and she immediately sank to her knees, licking her essence off of his dick.

His hand went to the back of her head as she sucked the tip and rotated her two hands along his shaft. After a few moments she grew brave and pushed him further into her throat, making his toes curl. She was down to one hand and decided to go even deeper. Resting her jaw, she brought her free hand to stroke his shaft while alternating between licking his balls and softly bringing them into her mouth. Her lips made their way back to his pulsating dick, his chorus of “fuck yes, just like that” and “suck that dick” lost on her ears while she focused all her will power on swallowing the monster before her. Her mouth slowly crept over his tip and down his shaft as far down as she went before. She swallowed and took him in deeper, nose almost touching his pubic hair.

“Fuck!”

He wasn’t expecting that and came down her throat. She gladly swallowed every drop.

“Good girl, make sure you clean your plate for your king.” He pulled her up by her jaw and kissed her deeply, his tongue exploring her mouth to taste himself on her. He slapped both her ass cheeks.

“Get in that bedroom.”

She grabbed his hand and led him to her room, her dress at her waist and those damn heels on her feet. Ashanti had a feeling those would be staying on most of the night. 

When she opened her door, he only looked around briefly before grabbing her by her throat and licking her neck. Her pussy throbbed once more.

“Why do you like when I’m rough with you?” He growled in her ear as he unzipped her dress. “Answer me.”

“My king, I-I don’t know but it turns me on.”

“You don’t know, huh? That’s not a good enough answer. Bend over, grab your ankles. Let’s see if you can figure it out” His hand pushed on her back, making her bend at the waist before he slammed into her, taking everything she had to give. His hips slowed down and stirred inside her, making her release a long, deep moan each time he pushed deeper.

Tears came to her eyes from how he was hitting it. She had never felt anything so deep or so thick inside her, and the way he was moving made her cry out to the heavens.

“Bast!”

“She’s not here love, you’re at my mercy,” He chuckled and grabbed her neck, pulling her up to whisper in her ear as his hips sped back up and she grabbed onto the back of his head for stability. His left hand had a tight grip on her hip, but his right hand came up to tweak her nipples as he slowed his strokes back down, circling his hips. 

“Yes, kumkani” she moaned out on repeat like a broken record. He had hit that spot in her that shut her brain down, making her putty in his hands.

“I’m going to ask you again sithandwa, why do you like it when I’m rough with you? Hmm? I know it’s hard to think right now, but try for your kumkani. We talked about it before. Why do you want me to treat you this way?”

“B-because I’m my kumkani’s little slut.”

He smiled as wide as the cheshire cat and stilled inside her, another deep chuckle rumbling from his chest.

“That’s my good girl, my little slut. You like being kumkani’s little slut?”

“Mmm, yes. Please, make me your slut kumkani. I’ll be good.”

He pulled out and slapped her ass.

“Prove it. Good girls ride dick.” He laid back on the bed, hands behind his head as he watched her stand over him and squat onto his throbbing member. He moaned as she dropped her weight on him and picked it back up repeatedly, tightening her kegel muscles on the way back up each time. She eventually dropped down to her knees to give her thighs a break and leaned back towards his legs, giving him a full view of her body as he watched himself go in and out of her.

“Shit, Ashanti.”

She slowed down and sat up, circling her hips and gripping him tight before leaning over and letting him suck on her nipples. She let him have his fill then whispered in his ear, “Am I a good girl yet?”

His mouth left her breasts and he pulled her into a deep kiss, their tongues fighting for dominance with his eventually winning again. He pulled back to take in her beautiful face that was twisted in pleasure, his black eyes staring deep into her brown ones.

“The best.”

The king wrapped his arms around Ashanti’s waist and spread his legs before thrusting up into her, catching her off guard. Her body succumbed to his and another wave of intense pleasure washed over her as she came once more. He fucked her all the way through her orgasm, refusing to let up.

“Do you have one more in you kitten? Can you be a good girl and cum again for your kumkani?”

“T’Challa, I-”

“Who?!” he hooked his arms under her knees and flipped them over, driving his big dick deep into her guts with a roll of his hips.

Tears came to her eyes and he wiped them away, pausing his movements. “Are you ok, love? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I...it just feels so good. You feel so good inside me, baby.”

“Do I?” he teased as he thrust impossibly deeper inside her, watching as the tears sprang from her eyes, kissing them away.

“Yessss,” she hissed as their foreheads came together so they could stare deep into each other’s souls as their climaxes approached. 

He pushed her legs back further and she felt him drop all his weight into her pussy over and over and over and she left her body, tears running from her eyes and juices seeping from her pussy. Her head rolled back and a faint smile appeared on her face as he fucked her stupid. Her nails dug into his back as his hips continued to thrust into her from above and he left his signature on her neck. He felt her body tensing up again and  he decided to stop delaying his release before he killed the poor girl. 

“Kitten.” He said to her in a soft, sweet voice, slowing down his strokes and just grinding in her deep. She struggled to focus on him but when their eyes met, he leaned in for a soft kiss. “You’ve been such a good girl for me. You take me so well baby, it’s like your pussy was made for me. You said I could cum inside you, will you still let your kumkani cum deep inside that pussy?” They had already discussed this, knowing it would come up at some point. Luckily they both had their STI prevention shots and  they were both on birth control, so since they shared the same kink they decided to go for it.

“Yesss, please kumkani. Cum inside me,” Ashanti said as she locked her legs around his waist.

The king’s thrusts picked up the pace, elevating them both to their highs. The tension rose in their bodies, Ashanti scrambling to hold him closer, and T’Challa struggling to contain his strength so as not to cause real damage. When the dams broke, their bodies shook violently and he filled her up while she spilled all over him. He slowly thrusted into her as his dick continued to pump her pussy full of him. His thrusts slowed to a stop as she came down from her climax. He leaned back and opened his mouth and let a glob of spit fall onto her clit before lightly rubbing it in with his thumb.

“T’Challaaaaa!” she whined, feeling overwhelmed. He smirked and stopped, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead then her nose, then her lips. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” he said as he continued to lightly kiss around her face and neck. Her legs still hadn't let him go, so his hips churned inside her very slowly, grinding just enough to keep her turned on but not enough to over stimulate her. “You just can’t let me go, huh?”

“Uh-uh,” she pulled him to her soft lips, only allowing them to slightly graze each other. “You feel too good.” She whined.

“Oh I do? You love when I’m deep in that pussy, don't you? You want me in there all the time? Want me to slut you out whenever I fucking feel like it?”

“Mmmm, yes kumkani.”

“Good girl. Now let me go baby, I’m not done with you.”

“T’Cha-” She was cut off by a deadly glare. “Kumkani, my pussy is tired.”

“I know kitten, this will help her feel better.”

Ashanti slowly unraveled her legs and moaned as his dick slowly left her, pulling on her clit and her g-spot on the way out. The emptiness she felt was soon replaced by the feeling of his copious amounts of cum dripping from her hole. 

T’Challa moaned at the sight then leaned in for a taste, causing Ashanti to gasp unexpectedly. His tongue moved up and down her pussy, collecting his cum and spreading it all over. He sucked on her clit and his fingers slowly found their way inside her to rub on her spot before his finger and tongue switched. He tongue fucked her walls while his thumb strummed her clit lazily, her legs twitching on every upstroke . His moans of pleasure pushed her further to her climax and when he started slurping his cum out of her pussy she lost it, body convulsing and cumming all over his chin. He slurped up their combined fluids and brought his lips to hers, transferring their cum to her mouth for her to taste. She swallowed and stared into his eyes, bottom lip between her teeth. He rolled over beside her and they faced each other. 

“Don’t look at me like that. You already won't be walking tomorrow, but I can make it a week,” T’Challa warned and the two broke out into laughter.

“Wow, just...that was...wow,” Ashanti said, still processing what just happened.

“Is something wrong? Was I too rou-” Ashanti shut him up with a kiss.

“It was amazing. And oh my Bast, you are nasty as fuck.”

T’Challa chuckled, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her into his chest.

“That’s just the tip of the iceberg, dear.”

Ashanti stilled then looked up at him in fear and arousal, both of which were made worse by the bloodthirsty look on his face. 

“What else are you into?”

The two lovers laid there and talked for hours, only pausing for a brief moment while Ashanti went to the bathroom. They talked about their kinks and exploring more together. They spoke about their futures, their bucket lists, their families, and more. The conversation veered from comical to serious to heart wrenching to seductive all within the span of a few hours.

They eventually fell asleep with T’Challa’s strong arms wrapped around Ashanti’s waist, just like the last time they slept in each other’s arms and hopefully just like all the times they’ll lay together in the future. 

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

In you

Our love

Your love

On me

Our love

My love

Ooh!

(Did you ever think that, maybe

Maybe it's destiny?

Maybe it's destiny that brought us together)

Next Chapter

[kerwritesthings]

Orange Blossom At The Bottom Of A Shot Glass

Summary: Salty is followed by sour, which should always be followed by sweet. 

Word Count: almost 3.7k

Warning: little cursing, little sexual tension, a bunch of sweet and fluff

Author Notes: ::taps on mic:: Soooo it’s been a GOOD while. The muse has been a little bit of a fickle bitch. Or a lot of one, actually. Also didn’t help that the last piece I wrote totally went a hard boom splat - gee thanks tall idiot Canadian one for that :P

HOWEVER, the muse decided to let go with some of the hockey boys and me play with some words for J’s Winter Writing Challenge. I’m just one day off deadline, though I still want to fill the other 1-2 I was thinking of. Thank you J for pulling this all together, you’re a peach. 

This one, is the first attempt at writing Tyler, so please be kind to a girl. It was fun to play in this little part of my hockeysphere/hockeyblr. 

I’m also maybe possibly most likely making this into a verse/series. Cause y’all should know that’s how I roll. 

The prompt from the challenge was:  “Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions.”

“From the cute one in the three piece purple suit at the end of the bar, said to get you another of whatever you’re drinking,” Misty says, sliding the half-sugar rimmed martini glass across the copper bar top. “Wouldn’t even entertain doing this if I didn’t know most of them.”

“Thanks Mis,” you smile, pushing your empty glass towards her.

You peek down slyly towards the right. A gaggle of tall, well dressed men circle the far end. You think some look familiar. Then you see who Misty meant when he turns towards the front of the bar and towards where you’re sitting. You know straightaway who he is, know the reputation, the rumblings. It’s hard not to, as big as Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex is, it’s not at the same time. It also helps that you’ve been a hockey fan since birth, paying attention to the boys in green since you moved to Dallas a handful of years ago.

“Misty are you fucking kidding me?” you snap when she wanders back towards you.

“Nope,” she grins like the cat who got the canary. “You should go over and say thank you. Promise you, you may think you know, but he’s a good guy. The lot of them are.”

You shake your head no, downing half your drink in one sip before wiping your finger against the glass to lick at some of the sanding sugar. Misty’s blood orange martinis are your favorite, and a weakness you cannot kick when she’s got the good stuff in stock.

“Give me a blank tabcard and a pen,” you ask. “How many of them are down there? Do a round of shots on my bill, but lemme think of what to send while I write this.”

Misty places one of her pens, a card and your Visa to the right of your cocktail. You carefully fold the card in half, tearing it in two. On one half you cleanly script out your name and cell number while on the second half, you write a cheeky little note:

If you can figure out what the shot is, Misty has something for you. Thanks for the martini, the second always hits better especially when you lick the sugar rim.

“Mis, do you know how to make a reckless slut?” you snicker, capping the pen.

“Red-headed slut, but with whiskey instead of Jaeger yeah?” she questions, looking underneath the bar for a bigger, clean cocktail shaker.

“Honey whiskey if you’ve got it,” you respond, polishing off the rest of your martini before gathering your things. “Then it’s just a touch lighter on the peach. If he can guess it right, then you give him the second half of the note.”

“You got it, I’ll see you,” she waves, off to the middle of the bar to find more ingredients.

You carefully glance down towards the opposite end, noticing the boys all wrapped up so you carefully slip out to make your exit, smiling and shaking your head.

“I’m absolutely insane,” you say out loud to yourself as you head towards your car.

“Segs, my girl left this for you and a round on her for the rest of the motley crew,” Misty explains, slipping him the first card before handing out the shot glasses.

“What she say?” Jamie nudges.

“Other than I missed her licking the rim of her glass?” he chides. “I need to guess what this is and then Misty has something for me, supposedly.”

“I do,” Misty replies, handing the rest of the shots out. “She picked a bit of a good one to leave for you too. Cheers boys, bellow if you need anything.”

He lifts the glass, sniffing it at first, not having any clue.

“J, Rads you guys have any idea?” Tyler asks, they both shake their head.

“Bottoms up,” Jamie adds before they all tip the shots back.

“Anybody?” Tyler pushes again, glasses clicking on the copper.

“I know,” a voice chimes in from the back, dropping the empty shot glass onto the bar.

“Come on then Dicky,” Tyler urges.

He looks at Tyler, trying to hold back a laugh but it doesn’t work.

“It’s a reckless slut,” he manages out between his laughter. “It’s something else dark in place of Jägermeister. Slightly fitting, eh?”

The group busts out in hoops, hollers and their own peals of laughter while Tyler shoves at the one closest to him, this time it’s Alex.

“Whiskey, honey whiskey actually, so nice one there Jason. Winner gets this,” Misty trills happily, wiggling a card in front of the group.

“Hey, wait a second,” Tyler snaps, trying to lean over to snatch the card from the bartender.

“That’s the rules she set,” she says, flicking the card over to his teammate. “Take it up with him, he got it right.”

“What’s it worth?” Jason grins, fist bumping with Misty before turning more towards Tyler.

“Not whatever you’re scheming in that brain of yours,” he takes a pull off his beer.

“I was just gonna say take care of dinner tonight, but if it’s not worth that,” Jason trails off.

“Damnit Dicky,” he sighs, hand flexing around the bottle.

“Let’s go boys, they’re ready for us,” Joe interjects from the outskirts of the group, nodding to the back dining room. “And we like it here so no bloodshed, ok?”

You’re just about to slip the key into your front door lock when your phone buzzes in quick repeated blips. You juggle everything in, snag a bottle of water from the fridge before plopping down on the couch to see what has your phone trilling.

So, Tyler didn’t win the challenge, I did and Misty followed the rules passing it to the winner! Hi, I’m Jason.

::selfie of Jason with the boys scattered about behind him at the bar::

I’m refusing for a bit to give him your number. Want to spare and maybe prepare you before I do. Plus, it’s fun to watch him squirm for a bit when it comes to shit like this.

The reckless slut shot was a nice touch, so I’m hopeful in assuming when you spotted us, him really, you kind of knew who was all down at that end of the bar. Probably have heard some things about his adventures and antics, cause who hasn’t.

I can tell you most of it is blown out of proportion, don’t get me wrong he has his fun, but he’s not an asshole.

Maybe we can all do lunch after practice? I’m happy to play buffer if you don’t want to deal with him solo. We’ll go somewhere solid and make him pick it up :)

You cannot help but smile when flipping through the messages, making sure to save both Jason’s number and ridiculous selfie to your contacts list. You fire off a quick thanks text to Misty before you settle in to figure out the best reply to Jason.

You’re a good teammate and a better friend. I would also make him squirm for a bit too, little shit deserves a bit of discomfort.

I appreciate that, Jason – thank you. I know better than to judge a book by its cover, but it’s hard when the Cliffs Notes versions are face up all over the place. Plus, a lady can never be too careful.

Want to try lunch next week, the three of us? I can’t remember what your upcoming game sitch is like, sorry. Maybe PS214? Something good that’s not too fussy, but chill. Plus, they should have enough options for whatever your nutritionist wants you boys to try to stick to or options to totally cheat out on.

I’ve got some flex in my schedule for lunches, my later afternoons get to be what’s stickier.

You know they were having a team dinner, so you don’t expect a response right away, so you pull yourself together to wash up and get to bed. You wake up to a flurry of more texts the next morning, plans for lunch Monday their practice and a video clip of the two of them, which was utterly ridiculous and adorable at the same time. It eased your tensions just a touch, but lunch would be the kicker.

“There’s my favorite foodie,” Phil the manager says, hugging you immediately. “I was so happy to see your name on the reservations. Is this a work thing or a pleasure thing?”

“Little of both, I’ve got two possibly three of Dallas’ favorite hockey team joining me which is why I asked about the back-corner alcove,” you explain. “But I also want to taste some of the new things you’ve been floating both at the bar and on the menu. Nothing formal yet, but I’m thinking of trying to pull together something around new happy hour approaches.”

“I think one of your lunch companions just walked in,” Phil responds, as you catch someone walking towards the two of you from the corner of your eye. “I know him and his wife, they’ve been in a few times. Hey Jason, nice to see you.”

“Hey Phil, wasn’t sure if you’d be here, good to see you. You’ve met one half of my lunch date already?” he shakes Phil’s hand before reaching for yours.

“She and I run in the same circles, mutual friends, some projects that have crossed paths,” Phil adds. “We’re waiting on one more, yes?”

His phone trills, “It’s Segs, he’s parking now and apologized for being late. He had to let the pups out because his dog sitter couldn’t get there early today.”

“I was early, force of habit, so no worries,” you reply. “He’s going to be pretty much on time in the grand scheme. Plus, I got some actual work done talking to Phil before you got here, so it’s all good.”

“Jason, you best not be trying to steal her from me already,” Tyler claps his shoulder before setting his eyes on you. “You’ve got someone waiting for you at home.”

You can’t help but half roll your eyes and half chuckle, “Nice to officially meet you, Tyler.”

He reaches out, his hand easily dwarfs yours, “You too, Clementine.”

“If you are all ready, we’ve got the table you asked for set,” Phil nods to the right, into the dining room.

“You were mentioning your work when I came in?” Tyler questions as you all sit down.

“I guess you could say I’m a lifestyle writer, mostly food and drink but I’ve dabbled in some travel,” you say. “I started out with my own blog back when I was in college trying to figure out what I wanted to do with life and it kind of got a following from there. I refuse to say influencer, cause no I’m not. Not my schtick. Actual writing pays the bills, not sponsored Instagram or blog posts. I refused to let my baby No Fork become something tainted like that, I think why it became so successful.”

“Wait, wait. You’re A Girl With No Fork? Seriously, my wife is obsessed with your insta page and the blog,” Jason exclaims. “She’s going to lose her ish that I’m having lunch with you.”

“Still blogging but keeping that a little more separate now a days. There’s more bylines with Infatuation, Food and Wine, a good deal with some the local papers. I may have a piece end up with Bon Appetite if this pitch I’m working on comes to fruition,” you explain, taking a sip of what Phil just placed in front of you. “Trying to keep a little of that anonymity left to keep Fork as respected as it is. Your wife and I need to brunch at some point then.”

Phil comes by to ask about any allergies or dietary restrictions, the rest is up to him and the chef, and you know you’re all in good hands.

“So, a pretty girl with a unique name,” Tyler leads. “Feels like there’s probably a good story there.”

“I was a surprisingly early baby, literally my Mom went into labor at 35 weeks and in an orange grove. That was her craving when she was pregnant with me, a ton of citrus. Hence the name,” you smile. “It’s rare I hear anyone other than her use my full name anymore. Even my pen name for my byline on pieces uses my initials. Friends mostly call me C or Em.”

“No Emmy?” Tyler questions.

You shake your head, cheeks flushing. You’ve never allowed that by anyone; not that anyone has ever tried that out for size. It always felt to too special to you, wanting to hold on to that for the right person.

“Let me see these puppies that made you late,” you divert.

“Once you get him started on the three stooges, you cannot go back,” Jason rolls his eyes. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” you smile, making grabby hands for his phone. “Come on I know you’ve got a ton of photos and videos on there.”

“They’re definitely a handful, and not so much puppies anymore. Though Gerry would fight me on that, he’s the baby,” Tyler grins wide before pulling up a video of three dogs running around like crazy in what looks to be his backyard pool.

Lunch was more of the same, good food, good conversation and a bunch of joking around. Smart play by Jason to recommend it this way, he’s as much of a sweetheart as his texts made him out to be and helps ease some of the worries you had about Tyler. And Tyler, you found yourself gravitating to him a lot more than you thought you would. You all didn’t realize it until the shift change was happening how long you actually spent in the back booth. As you’re saying goodbye, hugs are passed around between the group of you this time.

“We’re keeping you around by the way,” Tyler whispers in your ear. “Welcome to the crew.”

You fall into a quirky but easy friendship with Tyler and Jason after that, eventually Jamie too once the boys drag him to one of your tasting outings. It evolves quickly from random texting to grabbing meals and drinks, hanging out after games, even meeting Tyler at the dog park to finally meet his trio of crazy pups during one of your crazy timed breaks in your schedule that matched up before he needed to get into his pre-game routine.

Gerry is running amok hopping around with a German Sheppard while Cash just wants Tyler to throw a stick for him to fetch repeatedly. Marshall, however, has taken residence with his head in your lap.

“I know your younger brothers are insane,” you coo, rubbing the chocolate lab’s ear as he nuzzles into your thigh. “I’m sorry I have to leave you with them in a few.”

“So soon?” Tyler asks, tossing Cash’s favorite stick a little father. “You like just got here. He also just doesn’t cuddle like that with anyone. Feel special, so you shouldn’t leave him either.”

“Only a quick break today. Deadlines looming and a bourbon tasting that need to get done if I’m meeting you guys later after the game,” you explain, fingers digging into Marshall’s fur again.

“At some point you do need to come to a game,” he sasses as Cash comes barreling into his legs, Gerry not far behind. “I know you’re a hockey fan, you can’t hide that Em.”

“Perhaps maybe,” you tease, rolling your eyes sticking your tongue out at him. “Ok Marsh, I’m sorry buddy but I gotta go.”

Marshall just slides his head further into your lap, while now Cash head butts your free hand as Gerry crashes into your legs.

“I’m so sorry boys, we’ll have another playdate soon I promise,” you call to them as you pet all their heads.

“Where’s my goodbye pets and love?” he cheekily leans his head towards you.

“Oh Ty,” rolling your eyes as you get up.

You lean in as you were going to kiss his cheek, but you just tweak his nose and flip his snapback off, “See you tonight superstar.”

Misty is thankfully behind the bar again tonight at Oak and Cork, except this time you’re in the middle of the crazy group instead of the far end of the bar.

“You hitting that yet?” Alex grins wiggling his eyebrows and nodding to where you’re leaning against the bar talking to Misty while she makes your drink.

Tyler shoves his teammate, “Dude.”

“First off, don’t be crass. Em is in the damn room. And that’s a no by the way,” Jason rolls his eyes at Alex after handing off glasses to the two of them. “He most definitely wants to; I think that she does too. They just won’t actually talk about it.”

“She sent you reckless slut shots, I think you can talk to her about fucking,” Alex replies, taking a pull from his drink.

“Emmy. She’s not just some random girl to dick and dump, Rads. Fucks sake,” he sighs, hand threading through his hair as he looks over in your direction where you’re talking with Jamie, Joe and his wife.

“Emmy, eh? That speaks volumes. Just ask her already,” Jason interjects. “We’re all tired of your crank ass. I’m going to find my better half.”

“He’s right,” Alex taps his glass against Tyler’s. “Go to her. Ask her. Kiss her. Less cranky, more goals, more fucking.”

Tyler shakes his head, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He snags a bottle of beer from one of the buckets left out on the bar for the group before he looks for somewhere to take a breather. You catch him stalking off to the patio, amber glass clenched in his hand with his brows knitted together.

“He ok?” you ask Jamie, pointing towards the door where Tyler’s walking through.

“That’s not a good Tyler face,” he sighs. “I should…”

“No, stay. I’ll go check,” you interrupt, polishing off your martini to head outside.

“Hard to have congratulatory drinks when the first star of the game is hiding out on the patio,” you call out.

He shrugs, not turning around at first but you can see the tension across his shoulders even through his dress shirt. You take a couple steps out towards him.

“Hey, come on. Can’t be that bad. Right? Nothing’s wrong with the pups? Your family?” you tread carefully not knowing what could have happened between the dog park and that moment.

He turns around slowly, not looking up at first.

“Tyler, what’s going on?” your concern lacing through your voice clearly.

“I still think about that night here, you know?” he starts, placing his bottle on the railing next to him before leaning back against it. “I was intrigued, girl at a bar alone on a Friday night. Gorgeous one at that. She kind of saw right through me but dished it back unexpectedly and pretty well. Then, then that damn chaperoned lunch. Kind of just rolled from there.”

“Ty, what are you saying?” you need to make sure where he’s going with this.

“I can’t stop thinking about you, it’s exhilarating and unnerving,” he fights out, coming off the railing. “I still think about kissing you, wanting that, all the damn time.”

“Tyler,” you begin, trying to move closer.

“Take another step and I can’t be held responsible for my actions,” Tyler fights out, hands flexing at his side but looking you straight in the eye.

You can see the clench of his jaw clearly from there, the fire he’s holding back in his eyes. Your breath catches, your heart skips and your stomach flips.

“What if I’m ok with that?” you whisper, slipping an inch closer.

“I need you to be sure, Clementine,” he looks at you carefully, pupils flicking wider.

“Clementine? Really Tyler?” you try to tease to lighten the thick air around the two of you.

“Emmy,” he exhales deeply. “Don’t. Please, not tonight. Not now.”

You nod once he opens his eyes, stepping closer.

“Use your words, Emmy,” he murmurs, one hand grasping your hip while the other comes to cup your cheek, thumb trailing across your skin. “I need to hear you say it, babygirl.”

You’re distracted for a moment, having him that close. His words swirl around your head, your senses are slightly overwhelmed by him. His cologne lingers in your nose and makes your eyes flutter.

“You don’t need to placate me though, I’m a big boy,” he says softly. “Friends is better than nothing.”

“I wouldn’t,” you jump in carefully. “It’s why I waited, why I’m saying yes now to you Ty.”

Tyler pulls you forward and claims your mouth. His tongue wicked, swiping at yours. Your hands slip up behind his neck with fingers tangling in his hair at the nape. You lose sense of time, all you can do is sink further into the kiss, and into him, until you’re out of breath.

“You taste like those damn orange martinis you love. I like it,” he sighs, knuckle trailing against your cheek. “I’ve never felt possessive, but fuck. The thought of anyone else sipping your sugar after that makes me see red, Emmy.”

“Is that the ass backwards Tyler way of asking me out?” you tease, popping up on your toes to nip at his bottom lip.

He surges forward and knocks the breath out of you with another bruising kiss.

“Come to my game tomorrow, wear my jersey. Let me show you off properly, let me take you home after, breakfast with the dogs on the patio in the morning,” he asks, this time his thumb tracing over your bottom lip. “And the game after that and the next one after that, the next weeks and months ahead. Let me show you that I’m not that reckless slut you may think I am. You make me not want to be.”

You smile, nodding and pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.

[captain-barnes-writes]

Someone Like You [3/6]

Summary: In which Sebastian tries to win you back a year and a half after your relationship’s rupture, but only because there’s a new man in your life. [Part 3]

(Mini-series)

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Latina

Warning: Angst (lotssss), language, 18+, future chapters will include smut (just warning y'all!) ; not proofread 

Word count: 1.5k

Three months had glided by after that late night and Sebastian would be a liar if he said it hadn’t been a hassle to complete a simple task without a single thought of you. You were a brazen and permanent mark that he couldn’t erase no matter how hard he tried to rub you off.

A month after the one music video had been released, another one came. With the same Hispanic Bachata artist, this time for a different song. You were speaking Spanish in the beginning of the video, taking him back to the times you used to cuss him out in Spanish out of anguish and anger he’d make you feel. But also at the sweet words you’d utter in the language that was so foreign to him. It was for those first few seconds of the video that he was able to form a small smile as your sweet voice floated through his ears. He was smiling at the little rasp that your voice had and the slight squint of your eyes as you threw your head back in laughter, dark curls and dark eyes.

That little smile was quickly wiped off when the frame tuned to that of the singer who still couldn’t keep his hands off you and it made his blood boil over in rage. The dimples indented on the fuck-face were on full display as the full smile he wore didn’t vanish throughout the entire video. He couldn’t blame the man for beaming as if he’d won the lottery because quite frankly being in your presence felt quite like it.

It was another plotless video and made no sense, he deemed that the singer used this opportunity to get as close to you as possible yet again. You wore yet another dress, a tiny yellow sundress and your feet bare on the hot sand. The tropical theme had you on the beach, under a cabana and even on the sea shore. 

You were dancing so eloquently and freely, hands so conscious of every movement your hip would make that they would move with ease. Two steps to the left and a slight jut of your hip and you’d do the same for the right. Dark curls bouncing with every movement you’d make. The man had wrapped his arms around your waist and proceeded to dance with you while singing the lyrics so precisely. He was going crazy at the thought of what could happen after the cameras had shut off, of what was happening in real life. He wondered, in a crazed manner, if you were showing him the same type of attention as in the videos.

Was he touching you?

Was he kissing you?

Were you letting him?

His girlfriend shifted on her side of the bed, squirming and sprawled her hand on his bare chest. His eyes shifted towards her sleeping figure, her body positioned on her stomach and head lazily on the soft pillows, and her breathing was so calm. He’d been in a haze and had almost forgotten where he was. It was a weekday in New York and since their fast-paced romance had been caught on camera there was no need to tip toe around the city anymore so they were at his own place. There was no longer a need to only spend time at her place.

She was kind and funny, brought him a sense of comfort. But it didn’t compare to what you’d given him. It was just that she had the label of girlfriend and you hadn’t. The thought tugged at his heart. 

It was probably something truly sick and twisted as the sleeping and unknowing woman beside him breathed so softly in her sleep as he laid wide awake on his side with his phone grasped at his hand; the dim screen showing his searches filled with your name. His video search engine filled with your name too. He watched with his ear buds embedded in his ear, listening to your soft and nervous voice during interviews. The dark curls, your glowing skin and those gleaming brown eyes that were yet again driving him to the brink. His current situation was driving him towards a road of destruction if he kept this up.

God, what the hell was wrong with him. You consumed his every thought. Swirling and parading through his head like floating clouds of ethereal goodness. The last few months had been slightly arduous for him because in many ways he’d felt every single thing you had felt while you’d been with him. Angst, jealousy and an overwhelming tight feeling in his chest. He understood now.

He thought back to all the rumors, images and videos of you and that artist that had surfaced for the last few months. It wasn’t only an innocent, paid-job of being part of his two music videos but it seemed to have transpired into something more. The pictures of your dinner dates spread like wildfire through the media, people were shipping you and the fuckface already for god's sake. You were smiling so genuinely, straying behind the unbelievably successful man who donned an equally large smile. His hand was outstretched behind him, reaching for yours as the flashing cameras illuminated the both of you.

Huffing under his breath, he pressed the off button on his phone, removed the earbuds and placed both on the nightstand. He was tired and didn’t want to think anymore.

And as for you, you laid awake in bed as well in your New York home. The man beside you had barely gotten off you a few minutes ago and had already fallen asleep. His soft snores were invading the solemn quiet space of your bedroom.

Romeo Santos. He was handsome and romantic, sweeping you completely off your feet. And his voice? Talented and beautiful beyond belief. You’d started listening to his music in your teen years, and even though he was a lot older now, he still looked just as good as he had all those years ago. He was a good ten years older than you, a hefty number, but you liked it. Experienced, mature and with their shit together; at least that’s what you expected out of men who were nearly pushing the threshold of 40.

You couldn’t believe your luck at having gotten the call to be part of his music video during your vacation in the Dominican republic. You had said yes within a few seconds. Your instagram pictures showing off your well-deserved girls trip in the Caribbean region had probably gotten back to the Domincan artist, whom you’d noticed had already been following you.

The music video was out of your comfort zone, per say, as it included scenes that were rather risque for you. The lingerie and the steamy scenes on the crimson red bed had been rather intimidating upon reading the short script, but he’d made you feel comfortable.

And even while thinking back to those few months when you had met the handsome man beside you, your thoughts drifted back to another man who was two years shy of pushing 40.

Sebastian.

You wondered if he had seen your recent movie that had truly been the inception of your career, after only getting small roles, and if he saw recent announcements of roles you’d gotten for future films. It might’ve been vain, but you wanted him to see you. To appreciate you for once because it still hurt you so deeply that you had felt inadequate with him. You’d been at his beck and call for so long that you had finally mustered up whatever leftover pride you had and left his life. The situation had left you fragile, but you’d regained pieces of yourself and built your strength upon self love and your promise to never let another man use you.

Sebastian hadn’t been a bad person to you, he just had issues he needed to solve on his own. His commitment issues weren’t for you to fix. You got to know him as a lover and maybe as a friend too. But the moments you remembered most were those shared in your old apartment, on your bed. He’d been an incredible lover who wasn’t by any means selfish during your many nights together. You were lucky if you got a few hours of sleep with him around. He was insatiable. He always wanted you, was always kissing you and wanting some form of contact with you. You’d joked with him that he was like glue.

“You’re like glue, Seb. Get off me.” You laughed at the muscular, bare-chested man who was toppled on you. His hands were on your bare waist as his blue eyes traced over your face.

“And what about it?” He responded, big hands squeezing the fleshy sides of your hips and managed to give a slap to your naked behind. You shrieked in response, mouth and eyes agape.

“By glue I mean you’re making me all sticky and you won’t stop touching me!”

“You know you like it. Stop complaining.” He nuzzled his face into your neck, not even bothered at your protest.

His lips took hold of the sensitive skin below your ear, tongue lapping over the area he knew drove you crazy. Your soft mewls were the driving force to all his touching. He loved the sound of your breathy moans, your long nails scratching his back and the angelic reaction that would overtake your features. Mouth slightly ajar, gleaming eyes meeting his in silent pleas and the widening of your legs granting him the access he so needed.

“You see...That’s exactly why I’m like glue.” And you had nodded in response.

You found yourself thinking of him. Again. It was unfair that after all the progress you’d made to forget the man who’d always take your breath away, he still managed to do so even in your mind.

And as you took the phone from your nightstand, you did the one thing you didn’t think you’d ever do.

You unblocked Sebastian’s instagram.

(To be continued)

----

This chapter felt like a filler tbh. Next chapter will be the real deal ;))) Bringing my other favorite Avenger 

And do y’all know Romeo Santos? He’s a legendddd!

Let me know what you think :)

[pagingevilspawn]

stick it

What even is this fic? Idk, but i was missing gymnastics, so this is what y’all get. Its super bad, super weird, and not a whole lotta jolex, but whatever. 

Also, nobody cares, but the way I'm giving the scores is (most likely) different than what is averaged for Washington. I’ve never competed in Washington so i don’t know how hard their scoring is, but I did compete in one of the hardest regions in the US for gymnasts, so scoring was always a LOT more harsh than it was in other states and areas of states. Even though nobody is gonna pay attention to that I just thought I'd say something lol. 

And fun fact- our girl is a (much) better gymnast than i ever was, so… tea 🍵🍵  

~*~

Jo watched her husband do their daughter’s hair from the doorway, some kind of a braided bun she didn’t know the name of. She smiled at the sight. It never failed to bring a smile to her face, even though it had become pretty common these past few years. She cradled the bottom of her six month baby bump in the palm of her left hand, her right holding her piping hot tea in a thermos. Once Alex was done putting in all of the excess pins, she watches as he puts a hand over their daughter’s eyes, pulling out the can of hairspray and spraying it into her hair. 

The almost nine year old girl lets out a giggle, commenting on how the hairspray smelt funny. Alex pulls out an Amped Up brush, combing back any flyaway hairs that might have escaped the spray. She snaps out of her trance when she hears her phone alarm go off, alerting the other two in the room of her presence. 

“Mommy!” her daughter exclaims, running over to her to give her a quick hug, much to the dismay of Alex. He was just thankful that he was already done with her hair. Even after three years of doing hair it still took a long ass time to do buns, especially when his daughter was the perfectionist she was. 

“Hey Dyl,” Jo reaches down, returning her daughter’s hug, giving her a tight squeeze before she watches Dylan retreat back to her dad, sitting in front of the mirror once again. 

Jo looks at Alex, who’s attention was focused on adding the shiny black scrunchie into the little girl’s hair. “I’m gonna get Aub up.” she whispers to him, watching him nod before she turns and makes her way down the hall, where their three year old daughter was sleeping. It was only five-thirty, so she knew what a hassle it would be. Aubryella was exactly like her parents in that way, a complete night owl. It was always a hassle to get the girl down at night, but even tougher to wake her up in the morning. She flicks on the small night on the girl’s bedside table, the lamp shade casting a soft pink glow around the all pink room. 

Much like her name, Aubryella was the definition of a girly-girl. She was all about pink, barbies, fashion, makeup… anything that would be described as girly, the three year old liked. Alex always gave props to Jo for that, since while she was pregnant with their youngest daughter she claimed that the tiny life growing inside of her was going to be an ‘all that and a bag of chips little diva’, so she thought it was only appropriate to give her a name to suit that title. (Good thing her mommy instincts were correct. She knew that if she gave Dylan that name and not Aubryella she would hate it more than life itself.) 

She shakes the girl lightly, hoping that it was enough to wake her up, which it ultimately wasn’t. She begins to run a hand through her hair, which ends up failing too. Jo lets out a sigh. 

“Aub. Aubrey. Elle. Ella. Ree. Aubryella. Get up sweetie.” she shakes the girl harder, finally stopping when the tiny blonde lets out a loud groan of protest. Yep, definitely a Karev.

“No mommy,” the girl says, her word muffled since her face was buried in her soft pink pillow case, using one hand to sleepily push her moms face away. It was too close to her ear, and she just wanted to sleep.

Jo chuckles, rolling her eyes at her daughter's antics. “It’s state’s day.” she whispers, knowing that that would get Aub’s attention.

As expected, the little girl gets up immediately, rubbing her tired as, not looking as asleep as she probably should, the talk of the upcoming meet more than enough to get her blood rushing. Though Aubryella wasn't a gymnast herself (she had started dance class a year ago and had found her calling then), watching gymnastics was something she loved to do, especially when it was her own sister competing. Not to mention, it was the topic of nearly every dinner for the past month and a half.  

The mom watches as the girl hassles out of the bed quickly, picking up her blanket and rushing to the bathroom to brush her teeth. Jo stays behind, making the bed. Normally, Aub would need to do it herself, but since they were on a time limit, she decided it would be best if she did it instead. When the girl gets back in the room Jo picks out her clothes, a dusty rose sweater and black jeans, both wasting no time in putting them on. She runs a comb through her daughter’s long dirty blonde hair, a trait she inherited from her Aunt Amber and Grandma. Aub actually looked more like the two than her own parents to most people, with her dirty blonde hair and blue-green eyes. But anyone who actually looked at the girl could see that she had Jo's nose and Alex’s chin. Not to mention, that crooked grin was all Alex Karev.

Jo picks up her daughter from her spot on the bed, grabbing a jacket that was hung on a hook before heading out of the door and down the hall, stopping when she went down the stairs and entered the living room. She sets the girl down by a chair in the kitchen, going to the cabinets and pulling out the doughnuts and cereal. “Which one?” she asks, holding up each dessert in a different hand. 

The girl grins mischievously, making the mom let out a small chuckle before pulling a powdered sugar doughnut out of the box. She didn’t know why she expected anything else. 

Aubryella accepts the doughnut gratefully, giving out an absent minded thank you before shoveling the treat in her mouth, getting the white sugar all over her face. Jo doesn’t need to wait long before she hears two sets of footsteps come down the stairs, Dylan dressed with her white and light blue leotard on, black warm ups on over it, Alex in a simple pair of jeans, back t-shirt, and the damn black jacket that he never got rid of, no matter how many protests he got from his wife. 

“Ready?” Jo asks, all three of them nodding in response. “Okay, you got your bag, shoes, extra hair ties, water bottle, lucky bear, extra bobby pins, thera band, notebook, phone, mascara, lip gloss, hair brush, wallet, tiger paws, ankle brace, knee brace, and wrist brace?” she questions again, going over the list she had memorized from years of training. 

Dylan rolls her eyes impatiently. She didn’t want to be late. She couldn’t be late. It was States for god’s sake! Everyone in the state of Washington (who qualified) would be there. The judges would be scoring harder, and some of the competition was going to be new. She was going to go up against girl’s she hadn’t before. Her goal was to win everything. Maybe it was extreme, but it was true. This season she had done well, really well actually. Her first season as a level seven had started off in the best way. She swept the first competition clean, getting first on vault, floor, and all around, second on bars, and third on beam. As the season went on she just got better, scores getting higher and snatching more golds with each meet. She knew she wasn’t going to be in the Olympics one day, but getting a college scholarship was looking more promising with every first place medal she had stacked around her neck. 

“Yeah, now let’s gooooo,” Dylan drags out, grabbing her dad’s hand and pulling him to the door, not even waiting for her mom and sister to follow. The four Karev’s shuffle into the car and drive an hour and fifteen minutes to the convention center where the meet was being held. They pile out of the car and check in, Alex taking a few minutes to add an extra layer of hairspray to Dylan’s hair while Jo puts a light coat of mascara on the girl’s eyelashes and dabs the lip rosy gloss on her lips. 

Before the eight year old can run off her coach, her parents kneel down in front of her, her eyes letting them know how scared she was behind her calm facade. “Hey,” Jo grabs a hold of her little girl’s shoulders, making her hazel eyes that were identical to her own stare deeply into hers. “You got this. Go out there and have fun, alright? You know your routines, you won’t mess up. Okay?” she reassures her. Jo pulls her daughter into a hug, “I love you baby.” she whispers into her ear, passing her off to Alex. 

Instead of staying on the ground, he picks her up and puts her on his side, much like you would do a small child. Dylan had always been on the smaller side, since neither one of her parents were very tall, but gymnastics had definitely stunted her growth a fair amount. For most people it would be a curse, but as all gymnasts know, it was a blessing. 

“We’re right here if you need us. Go kick some ass Dyl, and win that state title. You want that banner right?” he teases. Dylan did want a banner though. At her gym, whoever won a state, regionals, sectionals, or nationals title got a banner hung up from the ceiling. She had one from last year, when she won floor, vault, and the all around as a level six, and even more from the years before that in levels three, four, and five. 

But a banner as a level seven? Now that would be a dream come true. Why break the streak now? And not to mention, her group would be the last level seven group to go for the weekend, so if she got a high enough all around score, it could be factored in for the team’s total, which could mean another banner (this one provided by the competition) and trophy, if their total score was in the top three. And believe me, she was determined to win that banner, not for her, but for her team. 

Another thing she inherited from her parent’s, their competitiveness. 

Dylan gives her parents and sister one last hug and ‘I love you’ before ducking under the chain and meeting her coach and teammates on the floor.  

...             

“Camera, camera, camera.” Alex mumbles, fishing through Jo’s bag until he pulls out the phone. Dylan was about to go up on bars, and he was designated photographer, since his wife couldn’t film for the life of her. The one time she tried, she ended up shooting the ceiling instead of Dylan’s floor routine. Their daughter was not very happy about that. 

He presses the start button just as the girl salutes, flashing the judges a smile before she begins. She rolls her neck and then adjusts her grips, stepping onto the mounting block and taking a deep breath before swinging her arms and launching into a kip, drowning out all of the excess noise in the background. 

“Legs, legs, legs.” Jo mumbles to herself. It was Dylan’s biggest deduction, having her legs separated. 

Straight legs, pointed feet. Kip cast handstand, hit the 180 degree mark, hold it, clear hip, hit 180 again, hollow body, her feet don't hit the ground, cast up to a squat on, she catches sight of the high bar before jumping to it, keeping her legs together as she goes into another kip, casting up into handstand, holding it at 180 for a second without an arch before hollowing back and beginning her giants, hollow body, tap, feet up, over, and again, see the toes in front, release, layout flyaway. Stick. 

Dylan beams as she salutes the judge again, going over to her coach and giving her a large hug, finally hearing the cheering coming from her family. A series of whoops and whistles come from her mom and dad, while her little sister claps her hands and gives her a wide smile. 

She waits a minute and a half for her score to flash up on the screen, a 9.725. The cheering from her section gets louder, and her teammates engulf her in hugs. It was a hell of a way to start off the meet. 

…

Alex pulls out the camera again when Dylan salutes the beam judge, trying to mask her nervousness behind a smile. Alex and Jo both knew how she felt about the beam. She hated it with every fiber of her being, no matter how good she was at it. She glances over at her family, who all give her encouraging smiles. It was just enough to give her the confidence she needed. 

He watches as she places her hands on the beam, going from a support to a press handstand for her mount. She stands, doing a few different moves and poses before swinging her arms up by her ears. 

“C’mon Dyl.” he whispers to himself. His daughter didn't mind cheering on any other events, but beam was a different story. She was always worried whenever she was on the apparatus, so whenever a sudden noise came through, she struggled. It was something she was working on, but it was going to take time. 

She lifts up her left leg, beginning her connection, a back walkover to a back handspring step-out. The girl circles her arms behind her immediately to prevent any balance checks. Jo and Alex both let out audible sighs of relief, knowing that if there was one thing that could go wrong in the routine, it would be that. From the looks of it, Dylan seemed relieved too. Her movements were less tense, she completed her jumps with perfect form, a split jump to a sissone. Her leap hit 180, and her full turn was controlled. All that was left now was her dismount. All three Karev’s sat on the edge of their seats, the baby in Jo’s belly kicking non stop, letting her know that it was in on the action as well. 

Dylan kicks her leg into the air, toes pointed, knees locked. Cartwheel step-in, back tuck. Stick. She lets out a breath, turning to the judges and saluting, flashing them a smile, giving her coaches a hug before darting to her family, who had moved closer for the event.  

“You did so good.” Jo says, pulling her into a hug over the plastics chains that separated them, Alex doing the same after. 

“What score do you think I got Bree?” Dylan asks her little sister, who lets out an adorable giggle before holding out her hands. 

“Ten!” she says, making her family laugh. One could dream. 

The score flashed up on the screen then, 9.775. 

Well, this was going to be a damn good meet. 

…

The camera was locked on Dylan as she made her way to her spot on the floor, striking her beginning pose before her music blared through the speakers. She dances around the floor, gliding with an ease neither of her parents had ever experienced themselves. It was a wonder really, how both of their daughter’s were good dancers while they couldn't move for shit. 

Her first pass was her hardest, a roundoff back handspring back layout. The family holds their breath as the girl sets high, finishing the rotation with ease, dancing around more before her leap pass, a switch leap to a straddle jump. She dances more, making eye contact with the judges as she moves. Floor was where she had the most confidence, being able to express herself through her music and choreography, that’s why it was always her favorite. 

“C’mon Dyl!” 

“You got this Dylan,” 

“Yay Tissy!” 

The family cheered before her second pass, a front handspring front pike, which she had a small step on, but nothing that would make a large difference in her score. She did some floor work, showing off her flexibility in her back with a series of rolls, standing up and doing a full turn. She makes her way to the corner, Jo and Alex watching the scene intently, Alex having Aubryella perched on his knee. This last pass sealed the deal. She runs, hurdles into a front pike, and connects to a front tuck. Stick. 

A smile breaks out on the little girl’s face. She moves her limbs in unison to her ending pose, hitting it just as the beat dropped. A series of cheers come from everyone around her. Her family, teammates, coaches. She doesn’t need to wait long for her score to flash up on the screen. A 9.675. 

…

Dylan’s last event was vault, her personal best. She had already done her warmups, and now she was just waiting for the judge to hold up the green flag. She adjusts her tiger paws after she salutes, just as Alex starts the recording. She sprints down the runway, hurdling into a roundoff, and pushing back into a back handspring. Her vault was a yurchenko drill. She keeps her form, legs together, knees locked, toes pointed. She finishes, salutes, then goes again. The three in the stands cheer. It was the last event. Her all around score depended on these vaults. 

When she does her finishing salute a second time, she knows that it was even better than the last. She looks over to her family and gives them a smile, wanting nothing more than to run over to them, but she knows she can’t, they were too far away. 

Her score takes a while to come up on the screen, which could either be a bad or good thing. The Karev’s hold their breath in anticipation, Jo stroking her baby bump with one hand, while holding Alex’s with the other. Even Aubryella was on the edge of her seat, well, more like the edge of her dad’s lap. Her hair was no longer down, but in a braided bun similar to her sisters, since she insisted that she wanted to look just like her. Alex was thankful Jo had packed extra hair ties in not just Dylan’s bag, but also her purse.

A series of loud cheers come from this section as they see their daughter’s score. A 9.800, a personal best. 

…

“And now, your vault state champion in the eight to nine year old category with a score of 9.800 is… Dylan Karev!” The announcer cheers as the little brunette makes her way up to the first place podium, an abundance of applause coming from the crowd. A gold medal is placed around her neck by an assistant, who she thanks with a megawatt smile. 

“These are your 2029 vault state champions, gymnasts salute.” the announcer says, causing all the girls to raise their arms to the position, all the families in the crowd taking photos of their daughters. Jo, Alex, and Aubryella cheer the loudest, more than proud of Dylan. 

As awards went on, more categories were called. 

“Your bar's state champion in the eight to nine year old category with a score of 9.725 is... Dylan Karev!” 

“Your beam state champion in the eight to nine year old category with a score of 9.775 is… Dylan Karev!” 

“On the floor, in second place with a score of 9.675 is… Dylan Karev!” 

“And now, the moment you’ve all been waiting for. Your 2029, eight to nine year old all around state champion, with a combined score of 38.975 is… Dylan Karev!” The audience erupted into applause, her parents, her teammates, coaches, and even her teammates parent’s cheering for her. She accepts her fifth medal with a wide smile, hopping down from the podium and back into the crowd. She had just won her ultimate goal, an all around title. 

After a few of the older groups were called, it was time for the team awards.  

“In first place, with a combined total of 115.575 is… Seattle Gymnastics Academy!” Another first place team award. The team accepts the banner and trophy and poses for photos alongside the second and third place team, proudly showing off their trophy by raising it above their heads.  

When she gets down and the awards finish, she runs to her parents, crashing into Alex with a gigantic hug. When she finally lets go, she hugs her mom and sister. 

“I’m so proud of you Dyl.” her mom says, touching her cheek affectionately. Gymnastics was her daughter's passion, something she lived and breathed for. Seeing that light in her eyes and that grin was something she would never get tired of. 

Aubryella hugs her big sister’s legs, “good job Tissy.” The name came from when the tiny blonde was younger and couldn’t say ‘Sissy’, and had stuck to it ever since. 

The family of four makes their way out of the convention center, the drive back to their house was peaceful, the limited hours of sleep they got the night before catching up to them. They all crash onto their respective beds, the girls in their rooms and Jo and Alex in their’s. 

Alex runs a hand through his wife’s hair, his other tracing circles on her baby bump, feeling the little life inside of her kick like a crazy person. 

They stay like that for a while, savoring the quiet. With two kids in the house, it was a major rarity these days. Jo hums, nuzzling into his embrace. “I love you.” she murmurs into his shirt, on the verge of sleep. He reaches down and places a small kiss on the top of her head. 

“I love you too.”

[eirabach]

Steady As You Go [1/3]

For @olliepig​ who asked for Gordon + Caught in an Explosion and @mrmustachious​ who asked for extra Penny and for @godsliltippy​ who asked for jealousy... um, sorry? All for @badthingshappenbingo​ 

This is rated M for insinuations of a sexual nature, drinking, references to drugs and a touch of the old violence. So, without further ado, lets go.

He remembers the first time he ever laid eyes on her, back when she was a debutante and he was still stealing dabs of Virgil's cologne. She'd floated through that ballroom, between all those businessmen, aristocrats and celebrities and worse, and he'd been sure, totally sure, that she was easily the most beautiful person he'd ever seen. He thinks he might have said so, or maybe his tongue was just hanging out of his mouth, because he also remembers the clout of Scott's hand around the back of his head and the way his dad's laughter had followed the ringing in his ears. 

"Don't even think about it, Gordon."

So he hadn't. Much.

And it hadn't been all that hard not to think about her back then, back when she'd been some distant, ethereal being and he'd been busy falling in love with a submarine. She'd just been a stray thought at night, a flash of gold behind closed eyelids and -- yeah. Easy peasy.

Except then there'd been secret meetings and firm handshakes and scuba lessons and flying cars and the fierce sort of decency that makes his heart skip a beat. A smile that he half convinces himself is always a little brighter when she turns it on him. 

And somewhere, somewhere between that ballroom and the island's beaches, somewhere before an Aztec temple but after -- after Dad, somewhere, something had changed.

He thinks it's love, actually. He wonders how much Dad would laugh at that.

Scott had laughed. Not at Gordon's being in love -- he's not that much of an asshole, not really, and anyway Gordon's not entirely sure Scott would recognise romantic love if it slapped him round the face -- but at the situation? This particular one? Sure. He supposes it is kinda funny.

After all Scott and Virgil have spent a significant amount of energy keeping Gordon out of these sorts of premises -- and now he's working in one. 

Despite the many, uh, experiences of Parker’s misspent youth the passage of time has left him an unlikely companion for this particular mission. Even if he could carry off the tight, leatherette trousers and accompanying waistcoat, there’s a pretty solid, almost certain, chance that he’d lay out the first man to set his wandering hands on her Ladyship. And the second. And the rest. It’s a lot of bail money that GCHQ aren’t especially keen to pay out, and so that’s where Gordon comes in.

And if he’s not totally sure how he feels about the woman he probably actually for real loves classing him as ‘most likely to pass as a sexy waiter’ in a club of extremely dubious repute, he is at least having a better night than Parker who, last he saw, is sat out in the alleyway behind the club panhandling for change.

Gordon’s getting notes.

He might not be quite as busty as the majority of the other waitstaff, but that doesn’t seem to bother a significant majority of the clientele. He squeezes between the tables where they’re crammed close together next to the dance floor, bestowing neon bright drinks and winning smiles in almost equal measure. The bass thrums through the club, up his spine, and arcs of ultraviolet light up the shark’s teeth smiles of people he shouldn’t be within a mile of. Some just whistle or hoot or ignore, hey, he can't be everyone's type, but others tuck fifties into his waistband, wink at their companions, whisper things as he leans over to collect the glasses that probably *ought to horrify him. Someone else paws at him, grabbing at his bicep as he tries to manoeuvre his way back to the bar, and the heavy tray he’s carrying wobbles in time with shrieks of laughter and, “Oh honey, why don’t you just pop that down and come sit up here with me?”

On second thoughts Scott wouldn’t be laughing. He’d probably just drop down dead.

“Sorry folks, gotta share the love.” He winks, hovers long enough for the hand on his arm to go for a lingering squeeze and then flexes just enough to set off another round of hooting and hollering. “Y’all have a great night!”

Okay, so maybe the notes aren't the only upside. He's been a long, long time on an island. With his Grandma. He's only human.

He kinda shimmies his way back to the bar to drop the tray of empties, leans up against it, and grins.

"Are you actually enjoying this?"

Kayo looks -- Kayo looks like she might rip his head right off if he looks too closely, honestly. The uniform, if it can be called such a thing, of the female bar staff makes Gordon's look respectable, just a minuscule leatherette skirt and two scraps of fabric over the chest, and he's not sure he's seen Kayo in a skirt in -- well, ever, if he's honest. Seeing her in this getup is kinda akin to seeing a brother in full red pvc fetish gear. Scarring.

The look on her face, though? That's hilarious.

"Might be," he says, and leans over the bar to swipe a maraschino cherry. He pops it in his mouth with a grin and probably a little too much tongue. Kayo scowls.

"Do your job, Gordon!"

She shoves a tray across the counter at him. No more unnaturally coloured concoctions here, instead there's an ice bucket, a bottle of champagne that's considerably older than him, and two crystal flutes.

He sweeps up the tray with a wink and a mouthed FAB that has Kayo's eyes almost rolling out of her head, and makes his way past the dance floor that heaves with sweating, gyrating bodies. He heads towards the raised platform at the far end of the club where a velvet cord and dimmed lighting promise something rather -- different.

Gordon has to look up, way, way, up, in order to flash his most winning smile at the beefy guy on the rope.

"Special delivery?" he says brightly. The guy doesn't even look at him, only lifts the rope enough for Gordon to slip beneath. He shifts the tray to one hand as he does so and shoves a sweaty curl out of his eyes. It's his first time up here tonight, and he's not entirely sure what he was expecting. The space is filled with plush velvet sofas pushed together to create private little enclaves around impractically low tables, but they're almost all empty. In the darkest, most shadowy corner Gordon clocks another figure, even larger and more off putting than the one guarding the ropes, but other than that -- 

He strides over to the only occupied sofas, lets his hips swing a bit, tries to give off a vibe of confidence that he doesn't entirely feel.

Because the thing about Penelope is that she never fails to look anything other than perfectly at home in any environment, and the thing about Gordon is that she's gonna make him drop his tray. He remembers the first time he ever saw her, pretty and pink and ever-so posh, and he thinks -- he thinks maybe he ought to have run then, because it's way too goddamn late now, isn't it?

Way, way too late.

The beading on her dress glows like liquid fire in the low light, her bare legs are crossed at the ankle, a river of sleek black hair flowing over the arm of the sofa as she tilts her head back at his approach.

"Oh lovely. I'm parched."

She sounds like Penny, far more like Penny than he was expecting, all things considered, but there’s a reason for that. This is code. A warning. Things aren’t going entirely her way, and when Penny’s way is also the world’s way, Gordon needs to think on his feet. He presents the bottle with a flourish, glasses neatly held between the fingers of his left hand, and tucks the silver tray swiftly beneath his arm. So swiftly, in fact, that no-one would have noticed the carefully timed wobble as he did so, the flash of reflected light just a meaningless side effect of the motion -- unless, of course, they’re an irritable Security Specialist who is on the lookout for it.

Danger, he flashes, bending down to pour the champagne, and Penny’s fingers brush ever so delicately against his as she reaches for the glass. She looks up at him through her lashes, darker and thicker than he’s used to as they may be, and he feels his heart rate kick up just a notch. Caution.

Way too damn late for that, too.

It takes the clearing of a throat from behind him before he remembers the *other reason he's here.

"Nice view, poor service," a voice drawls. "Seems like I just can't get the staff."

Gordon's never knowingly met an international arms dealer before. Not on purpose. They’re not the sort to hang around at charitable auctions or linger at the ribbon cutting of children’s hospitals. When he’d been told he’d be meeting one here he’d expected -- something else. Something old, a throwback to a harder, darker age long past. An ugly face to reflect an ugly soul. Something seedy, like the club around them, ground down and dirty and wrong. What he finds on the other side of the cosy little nook is something else entirely.

He’s young, not much older than Gordon himself, slim and smartly dressed with chestnut brown curls and freckles that spill like grains of sand over an upturned nose. He’s smiling as Gordon gapes at him, and that’s -- Gordon doesn’t really know what to do with that.

Penny’s spent months in pursuit of this guy, and Gordon knows why, he does, there are hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of biological and chemical weapons at stake -- the future of the whole planet, even -- and there’s no reason, none, for the funny little burning sensation in his chest to rise up into his throat. No reason for him to flick his eyes back to Penny, to the casual way she drapes herself across the sofa and sips at her champagne. No reason to hold on to the guy’s glass for that split second longer than he has to, no reason to force him to tug at it, a brief flash of frustration creasing the handsome brow. No reason except that this guy stinks of power, of expensive cologne, of something else that Gordon can’t quite put his finger on only he knows he doesn’t want Penelope within a million miles of it. Blood and gunpowder and he probably really shouldn’t piss this guy off.

He probably was not the best choice for this op after all.

"Although --" And the guy’s holding the glass now, he’s holding it and Gordon’s pouring and there’s -- there’s no reason for him to look at Gordon the way he is now. Blue eyes track up his obnoxious trousers, hover momentarily at the cash still stuffed in his waistband before flicking up to Gordon’s eyes. The crease between his eyebrows deepens, and the tip of his tongue peeks out to dampen his lips before he takes a sip. “Then again, perhaps I can.”

Gordon blinks at him, shock rendering him half dumb because Penny’s -- Penny’s right there, looking like that but he’s looking at Gordon like -- like -- 

Hunger, he thinks. It’s hunger.

He’d have known what to do with that, once. Pretty eyes and a handsome face. He knows this game of old, although god, it’s been years hasn’t it? It’s been years, but it’s exactly not the sort of game you forget how to play.

Well then. Perhaps he does have a few skills he can bring to the table.

“Uh, thank you?” He shifts his weight, rubs at his damp hair and enjoys the little thrill he gets from watching the way the guy's eyes follow the flex of his muscles.

One neat eyebrow rises. “Thank you? Are you new?”

“Oh! Oh, yeah. First night.” 

The guy, and that’s all he can think of him as, just some guy because if he thinks about who he is he’s gonna grab Penny and blow this whole damn thing, reaches over and flicks at the wad of notes. “Enjoying yourself?”

Gordon laughs, a little breathily, a little nervously, a little genuinely, and the tray slips to the ground with a clatter. “Sure! I mean, what’s not to love, right?”

The guy laughs too, rich and throaty, and hooks a finger through the belt loop of Gordon’s trousers to tug him towards him. The whites of his eyes glow violet, his smile almost alien as the lights strobe over them and his hand is cool against the skin above Gordon’s hip as he grips, twists, turns him to face Penny. She’s sitting up now, champagne glass raised, her lip between her teeth. Her shoulders are tensed ever so slightly, the pads of her fingers pale against the glass.

“What do you think?” he asks, “Should I keep him?” 

Penny’s eyes go wide, just a half second’s warning, and then she smiles, cool and cunning.

“Oh,” she says, her smile like ice. “Lets.”

[punkscowardschampions]

Lux & Amber

Lux: You missed [some dinner y’all have that doesn’t entirely suck] tonight

Lux: I tried to save you some but that’s already gone

Lux: anyway, can we talk when you’ve got a sec?

Amber: Oh no! 🥺 Thanks for trying to spare me tomorrow’s ‘feast’, I really appreciate the attempted save

Amber: I promised to stay here for a while longer yet, but we can talk if you’re okay with typing it all out

Amber: I have time to read, she’s fallen asleep

Lux: Awh, I hope your friend feels better soon!

Lux: Yeah, I can totally do it over text

Lux: It’ll be way less awkward for us both anyway, I think

Lux: What do you think about Dash?

Amber: everyone knows what I think about Dash…

Amber: I haven’t made any secret of what an asshole he’s been to me since we had sex

Lux: I’m not just asking to be nosy or anything like that

Lux: but he said some things that I didn’t think made sense and I just

Lux: idk, I don’t know if he believes himself or what

Amber: I think I know why you’re asking, which means I should’ve spoken up more about the lies he told me before then and who I’ve found out he actually is

Amber: he definitely wants to believe his own bullshit, I guess because it makes him look and feel better than the truth does

Lux: Maybe he still likes you so he’s acting out?

Lux: Not that that’s cool but I don’t know why he’s got you so wrong otherwise

Amber: making me look like the psycho ex girlfriend I never was and dismissing everything I say and do under that guise is easier than addressing his own behaviour

Amber: especially when there are so few of us trying to get him to change or be held accountable for how he treats the girls at the commune

Lux: That’s what I was afraid of

Lux: but your side of it undoubtedly makes a lot more sense

Lux: Thanks, Amber

Amber: No, don’t thank me

Amber: I should’ve stayed last night

Amber: known that this was gonna happen

Lux: No, you can’t be responsible for him, or me

Lux: and like you said, so many girls are okay with it, him, seemingly so

Amber: mama insisted I look after you and I clearly didn’t

Lux: You’re both sweethearts, but I’m not a baby

Lux: I should’ve known better

Amber: neither am I but I fell for it too, and I couldn’t have known any better than living alongside him for half a year

Amber: I just really wanted it to be true, what he was saying about me and that place, stupid of me

Lux: If it is that way for him, it sounds really nice

Lux: I think it is, but maybe that’s stupider

Amber: it’s that way for my parents and I thought if anyone could make me feel close to the same, he would, which sounds really calculating of me

Amber: maybe I did use him as badly and he does have a right to badmouth me, I don’t know

Lux: We all have expectations… surely?

Lux: That doesn’t mean either of us were in love with him or being crazy

Lux: What he said and then what he did didn’t match up, for either of us, by the sounds of it

Amber: Do you wanna talk about what he said and did to you?

Lux: It’s hard to work out what even upset me now

Lux: Maybe he did tell me from the start, so that is on me

Lux: I thought from how he was though, he’d want to see me again but when I asked he told me he was with someone else, then he was like, idk, acting like it’s his duty or something and it was really gross

Amber: Yara and her friends must have come back for the solstice celebrations, they never miss a party and he never misses the opportunity to be with her before she's gone again

Lux: What’s she like?

Amber: A free spirit

Amber: and every other hippie stereotype everyone expects me to be

Lux: Of course

Lux: well I don’t want to meet her, whatever he thinks

Amber: of course he wants you to meet her

Lux: He should just be with her then if she’s so cool and free

Amber: there's no scenario in which she'd wanna stay there with him or he's gonna leave with her

Lux: Love being what’s left

Amber: I'm so sorry, Lux

Amber: this is just my POV of them though, and I'm biased by how angry he makes me

Lux: It’s not your fault, this is just all what I was presuming and dreading before

Lux: He doesn’t like you either, so the truth should be somewhere in the middle

Amber: if he talked to me about any of it instead of about me to anyone who'll listen, he'd like me even less

Lux: I was supposed to be being extra vigilant

Lux: I knew this would happen

Amber: it's not your fault, he knows what he's doing, that's why he keeps it up and keeps getting away with it

Lux: It was my fault I got myself involved

Lux: It couldn’t be shown to me any clearer

Lux: I can thank him for that, I guess

Amber: Do you want us to help you find somewhere else to stay?

Lux: You don’t need to do that

Lux: Here is as good as any for now

Lux: I need to work on myself, not my surroundings

Amber: I know the feeling, but it doesn't stop me fucking hating living there sometimes

Amber: a lot of the time

Lux: I don’t like it either

Lux: I’m in no position to complain but it’s

Lux: a different dislike to home, but still

Amber: Any time you feel like complaining to me, I'm not in any position to tell you not to, it's all I do right now, I swear

Amber: but maybe it would be more helpful to admit that I'm also spending as much time as I can finding places that feel far away from it and meeting people who don't have the hive mind

Lux: It feels like everyone else LOVES it and the implication is I just don’t ‘get it’ because of my background and that’s my lack

Lux: It’s actually very similar in loads of ways and not positive ways, I would say but hey

Lux: School must help with that a lot

Lux: the kids at my church that weren’t homeschooled or quiverfull were just

Lux: such a breath of fresh air

Lux: the best friends until my mother caught wind and called them ‘bad influences’ or whatever

Amber: some of them are, but there are others who make me feel as 👽 as people in the commune do, I still have searching to do, I guess, before I belong properly anywhere

Lux: I feel that

Lux: Maybe Yara has the right idea 🙄

Amber: Shhh no, don't ever say that! And don't let me put you off, I'm sure if you met them you'd love them all and vice versa

Amber: it's gotta be a me thing because my favourite person in the world is someone I do nothing but argue with

Lux: I won’t love her now

Lux: It isn’t her fault but it’s too late for that

Lux: Is that his brother?

Lux: Not to be gossipy, but he had stuff to say about that too

Amber: I won’t push that introduction, but my school friends are a possibility, since you’re not planning to leave

Amber: Great, he’s made it about him, despite the fact he’s the one topic we don’t talk about, I should’ve seen that coming too

Lux: That, I would like

Lux: I’m not getting that reputation

Lux: He already called Nora boring despite the fact I think everyone knows why she’s here and why she’s shy

Lux: Oh he thinks it’s 100% about him, I did my best to politely say I doubted that very much but he wasn’t taking it in

Amber: Nora’s very welcome to come with you to hang out with us if she’d like, I don’t think she’s at all boring, or honestly even that shy

Amber: Dash can’t stand that she doesn’t feel at ease around him because that’s how he gets what he wants

Lux: Yeah, seriously

Lux: I didn’t even go there because I got mad enough without pointing out her discomfort/trauma around men isn’t about him and HIS feelings

Amber: Likewise my friendship with his brother isn’t anything to do with him or his business, but it’s the least important part of what’s been going on, so I wouldn’t be rushing to bring it up even if it was a conversation he wanted to and was mature enough to have

Lux: I don’t know what to do now

Lux: He’s not the devil

Amber: he doesn’t have to be a bad person to be bad for you

Lux: He did try to talk to me, get to know me, though

Lux: which is more than plenty of people here

Lux: and I’m not treating them like 👺

Amber: he got to know me too, for months, I thought we were genuinely friends and then I discovered how much of what he said was lies, and if that wasn’t bad enough, he stole my dad’s stash

Amber: getting it back is how I met his brother in the first place, not that I did, because it was long gone

Lux: I know you’re right 😞

Amber: Don’t you think it’s worse than being blanked? I absolutely wish he’d never given me the time of day

Lux: I wish I was there yet

Lux: but no, I can’t say I’m there when I’m just not

Amber: it’s okay, I’ve had longer and I still feel like the biggest idiot, maybe it would stop hurting if I wasn’t friends with his brother and going over to his house to make that boy breakfast in the morning but I don’t want to not do those things

Lux: I can get that bit

Lux: I’m already hating that girl I’ve never met because of him, and that makes me mad but there’s no situation in which he doesn’t get the win because if I tried to not hate her, that’s what he wants anyway

Lux: That sounds super cute though

Lux: despite the arguing

Lux: maybe that’s just how they were raised?

Amber: I don’t know how his brother doesn’t hate me, because I haven’t told you that’s where it happened, because I can’t believe anyone would seriously pretend someone else’s room was theirs

Amber: I can’t blame him for always being annoyed at me, I am at myself and my life, he must think I’m… well I don’t wanna put the words to what he could think

Amber: at least he says what he means and it’s real

Lux: He what?

Lux: Oh no that’s REALLY bad

Lux: his brother can clearly tell that that’s as bad for you too, and not your fault

Lux: well, worse, but even if how mad he was stopped him getting to that conclusion

Lux: I can’t

Amber: It makes no sense that Dash would do it for my benefit, I don’t even have a bed right now, I’m not gonna judge the state of his sheets!

Lux: That’s weird

Lux: like an inside joke with himself?

Lux: because presumably he didn’t think his brother would find out anything…

Lux: He should get a lock

Amber: Right? For it to be a fuck you he’d have to tell him because I did a really good job of tidying up before I left and he didn’t stop me

Lux: I do not like that

Lux: I’m used to having no personal space and nothing being your own

Lux: but that’s disrespectful, like a lot

Amber: me too and I couldn’t agree more, it gives me the ick

Lux: It’s real ick

Lux: sorry, I’m not trying to make you feel gross, it’s all him

Lux: it was just a room to you

Amber: it’s such a nice room, if I wasn’t high I would’ve questioned it

Lux: There was a lot I would’ve questioned on a normal night but I was overwhelmed

Amber: I know you said don’t but I hate myself for leaving you

Lux: Seriously don’t

Lux: that’s not what I want

Lux: I probably would’ve done it whatever you said

Lux: I hate to say that but it’s likely true

Amber: it was a drunk decision, I’m usually a better friend, I promise

Lux: I know you are 😌

Lux: you’ve been more than welcoming despite the fact your mom kinda forced you to 😅

Amber: When I get back we should go out, not only because if I see Dash I will hit him and my dad’ll be upset with me, but also to do something away from him and my parents

Lux: Yeah, I’m feeling that too, I do not wanna be here

Lux: where should we go? 💃🍸🍝🎬🛒💅

Lux: aside from breakfast, what do you guys do for fun?

Lux: I’ve barely ventured outside of this place since I got here

Amber: how unfair would it be if I woke up my sick friend to ask her what normal girls do with their Sunday evening?

Amber: we did go to the beach, that’d be cleansing for the ick

Amber: or we could do something neither of us have ever done, to slightly level the playing field, because you’ve been overwhelmed enough for forever

Amber: to make us feel less gross

Lux: Can we go to the beach

Lux: my favourite places we’ve lived were always by the ocean

Amber: That’s what I was hoping you’d say!

Lux: 😁🥰🥳

Amber: the minute her mama is through the door, I’ll be out of it

Lux: I will aggressively be busy wherever he ain’t ‘til then

Amber: keep away from [wherever the hell Yara and her friends hang out on these grounds] and you’ll be fine

Lux: Thanks, I’ve got a bikini to find anyway, Lord knows I don’t have one

Amber: [obvs tell her where you hide your shit because that’s the kind of friend you are and it likely changes so other bitches don’t steal it]

Lux: Oh, that’s smart 👍

Lux: I’d get a lock for our room but I just know there’d be suggestions we could fit at least another 2 people in or whatever if we just made the effort 🙄

Amber: Thanks, I’d love to wear my favourite new 👗 everywhere but I know what would get said about that, and besides, it wouldn’t be the nicest thing I own for long if I did

Amber: I’d offer to sleep on the floor but unfortunately I’m too small for that suggestion to really silence the others

Lux: Not for the beach then

Lux: but soon, maybe with your friends, and Nora?

Lux: I could make a new favourite 👗 for the occasion

Lux: Don’t take this the wrong way but how tiny you are is adorable 🥺 I’m totally jealous

Amber: Yes, I know exactly who I can ask for a Nora friendly atmosphere

Amber: I’m ridiculously jealous that you can apparently make a new dress like it’s nothing, I couldn’t even make a sock puppet when the little ones asked me

Lux: 💗

Lux: It depends on your view of fashion

Lux: I can sew but I prefer ridiculously impractical stuff you would not see in any kinda store

Amber: it’s hard to see past the joy of clothes that haven’t been worn and washed so often it’s a guess what colour they originally were, for me

Amber: I don’t know how I feel about fashion, I like accessories though

Amber: and I’m a willing 🐹 … is that a hamster? 😂

Lux: I’ve noticed your collection 💎📿🧿✨

Lux: in an admiring way… not a thief one which that sounds like 😅

Lux: you can be my hamster

Amber: You can borrow any of them, except this one [a pic with a ring around the necklace her bae gave her duh]

Amber: okay, but what creature are you? Not a magpie, allegedly

Lux: Understood

Lux: ❌🦊🐺

Amber: that was his nickname for you?

Lux: Of course it’s that predictable

Amber: because he gave me one too, along with Yara and everybody else

Lux: He’s becoming less appealing by the second

Lux: just because it isn’t special or doesn’t mean anything to him, doesn’t mean he should assume it’s the same for everyone he ever meets

Amber: He made me feel so special, it’s embarrassing to even type out now

Lux: I’m right there with you

Lux: I can’t believe I decided to trust him, on any level but with that especially

Amber: I feel like I need to have sex with someone else immediately because him being the only person I have since we moved here is an honour he doesn’t remotely deserve, but I know I need to start making better decisions, so like, I can’t

Lux: Try him being the second person you have and both times went TERRIBLY and confirmed the sin to everyone and yourself

Lux: That’s great, thanks Dash 👍

Amber: I'm gonna kill him, my dad'll have to deal

Lux: Brooks will kill me

Lux: or give me really hard work as punishment, anyway

Lux: Let’s just go to the beach and hope he’s gone home by the time we get back

Amber: We'll find out from Finley when we're ready to go back and if he's still there we can sleep on the beach

Lux: 🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️

Amber: I like that better than when Dash's brother called me one of those spiky things that you tread on 😂

Amber: accurate but not very glamourous

Lux: That’s a weird way to flirt 🤔🤭

Amber: Well, I'm pretty sure he'd deny EVER flirting with me, even if we were the kinds of 🧜🏼‍♀️🧜🏽‍♀️ who tried to drown him

Lux: Are they opposite brothers?

Lux: Dash would tell us he flirts with EVERYONE and to not be weird about it

Amber: I'm surprised Dash didn't compare them to the Oak and Holly King 🙄

Amber: but they truly are different enough for me to almost forget they're brothers

Lux: Currently I feel like that could only work in his brother’s favour

Lux: but all kinds of boys can be all kinds of jerks

Amber: It does, but you're right, I can't pretend he doesn't have his own moments of being an asshole

Lux: As long as the non-asshole moments outweigh them though

Lux: I think that’s an acceptable thing to be okay with, none of us are perfect, Lord knows

Amber: I hope they will, it's hitting me as I type this that I really haven't known him long, and it's strange, because it doesn't feel that way to me at all

Lux: It’s like that, sometimes

Lux: time isn’t always what matters

Amber: True, but another hope is still that I get more time in Dublin to spend with him

Lux: I haven’t heard either of your parents talking about moving… yet

Lux: I think your mom is getting a lot of women at her groups rn

Amber: and I haven't heard her arguing with Kai either yet

Lux: I don’t know if he’d be capable 🧘🏻‍♀️☮️🌼✌️

Amber: I wanted not to like him but I don't think I'm capable

Amber: he's made so much effort with me

Lux: It’s okay, I prefer your dad too 🤭

Amber: You're his ⭐🏆🥇 pupil, he talks about you whenever he's not teaching you basically, it's cute

Lux: He’s really helped

Lux: considering how little I knew, and still don’t

Lux: but I’m getting there, he knows so many good books

Amber: Not reading is THE thing he tells me off for and I can't 🥺 my way out of

Lux: I’ll read enough for the both of us 🤞

Lux: and at least I’m never bumping into Dash at the library 🙄😏

Lux: he talked a lot about how he hates school so

Amber: I found a boy to tutor me but I think I'm too distracting…

Amber: maybe you can do it when my dad is finished with you

Lux: We could help each other, maybe

Lux: I’ll do the 📚📏🧮📖 practical stuff and you can tell me about all the different places you’ve been and different people you’ve met

Lux: It might not be a totally fair trade-off but we had to budget and account for every hour of our day so math is pretty easy and all there was to do was read the approved books over and over so 🤷‍♀️ I don’t totally suck

Amber: unfair to you if you’re doing all the work and I’m just sitting there talking and talking!

Lux: That is work too!

Lux: There’s only so much reading about places and people can give me

Lux: You might be 👽 sometimes but that’s me 99% of the time 24/7

Amber: I’m not saying no, I love the sound of my own voice, famously

Amber: that’s how I got picked for nurse duty over our other friends

Lux: I don’t think that’s a problem, your voice is cute

Lux: but I promise I won’t be 😍 like your tutor

Lux: You must get it from your mom, your caring side

Amber: I definitely feel like an 👽 when I talk here, everyone has such defined accents and mine’s all over the place

Amber: oh god, he acts like he’s being tortured, I thought I was having trouble concentrating, but he’s got me utterly beat, I can’t do it to the poor boy any more

Amber: or from my dad, I don’t remember the last time he was like this about a student, when he is though, he really is

Lux: I can understand you, though

Lux: and I CANNOT understand so many people here it’s 😬😬

Lux: 🤭🤭 the power you have

Lux: The way I unintentionally sounded so rude to your dad there! 😨😅 my brain was fully on nursing but no, you can tell he actually wants to help me, for me, he isn’t getting anything out of it but the joy of loving what he does, obviously

Amber: There have been a lot of days I kinda wish they were forcing me to take Irish as a class the way they do for whoever is born here, but I doubt there’s any kind of glossary or key to unlocking the accent in the back of the textbook so it probably wouldn’t help that much realistically, right? Besides, I’m scraping by as it is without imagining extra work for myself

Amber: not the superpower I’d ask for, but one I have inherited from my mama, for sure, men are intimidated by her everywhere she goes and whatever she’s doing

Amber: like it or not, except I think she does enjoy having that effect, mostly

Amber: 😂 It’s okay, I won’t tell him any parts that aren’t complimentary 😶

Lux: That’s way beyond my capabilities, it’d be 😵

Lux: I bet they do have night classes though, when you’re not drowning in regular ones

Lux: I think I would

Lux: I can see the appeal, but maybe it’s the kinda thing you don’t appreciate if you do have it 🤔🤷‍♀️

Lux: ⭐️💗

Amber: I used to think I was into it but Dash’s brother isn’t intimidated by me in the least and I’m starting to like how that feels more, I don’t know

Lux: Like, comfortable?

Amber: I have no idea which words to put to it, it’s like, he’s actually fine with me being myself, even though I’m a mess, he isn’t just saying it’s fine while making me feel 👽 or stupid

Amber: honest maybe?

Lux: Y’all are cute 🥺😍 and I’m about it until he proves otherwise

Amber: I’m looking forward to making him breakfast and you know that’s not me at home

Lux: Okay but there are too many people here for that to ever be a fun experience

Lux: I wait ‘til everyone’s gone or busy doing whatever they do and have it in my first lesson

Amber: smart

Lux: but rude, and anti-social to boot

Amber: Ruder if you didn’t wait, Yara and her friends behave that way all the time, treating it as if they’re the popular girls sent to a summer camp

Amber: I’ve had to bite my tongue so hard so often because we’ve already had the argument and I know what she would say if we kept having it

Lux: 🤢🤢🤢

Lux: There’s zero chance I’m ‘hanging’ with them now

Lux: I didn’t want to anyway but of course he was making me feel bad and 👽 over that

Amber: if I could get away with throwing a party when she’s gone, I would, I don’t care how 👶🏽 it makes me sound

Lux: There is somehow 🍻🍷 left soooooo 😋

Amber: 🙃

Lux: I think we need to reclaim how last night turned out somehow anyway

Amber: I’m more than ready to do that if we can decide how

Lux: We’ll ponder at the beach

Lux: Btw, if you want, you can room with me and Nora for real

Lux: well, I will have to ask but like, she’s not gonna have an issue with it

Lux: I would’ve offered before but obviously some people like the whole couch surfing vibe and I thought that was you too

Amber: I don’t know what to say, I feel like I might cry for some reason that can’t be a hangover this late

Amber: it’s the kindest offer, I’m really touched, and would obviously love to

Lux: There’s definitely room for another mattress

Lux: we really want to paint it and make it cute, whatever people think, because Finley said he’ll pay for paint so then it’s not like, farm resources

Amber: What colour are you voting for? Nora’s gonna want [whatever colour is her fave idk]

Lux: 🤔🤔 okay hear me out

Amber: intriguing…

Lux: well if our beds are against separate walls we could have a wall each in whatever colour we want

Lux: it’d be nice if they looked cute together but anything is better than the terracotta and white splodges we have now 🤷‍♀️

Amber: Okay but you gotta help me pick or I’ll accidentally choose something that gives me a headache and have to sleep in sunglasses!

Amber: 🔵🌊💙?

Lux: OOOOOOOoooooo

Lux: a like burgundy, navy and then I could do a purple to pink energy to bring it full circle

Lux: that would be 🥰 I’m excited!

Amber: We can beach brainstorm

Amber: if you’re ready to go? [because why not show up like hey new bestie]

Lux: 🧚‍♀️

[mahalkitajohnnysuh]

Sugar and Fluff (Volume 4)

Sit right up on your chairs, for this is a special one. Since I mentioned last week that we’re going back to the start of the timeline, here’s one for y’all. 

Finally, I get to use one of my favorite Johnny GIFs of all time since it’s related to the story. 

I mean, I literally gasped when I watched this for the first time. How dare he do this to us! My poor heart was about to pass out then. 

Mahal ko kayong lahat! :) 

–––

Summary: This installment is a follow-up to How They Met, and how Johnny was to Essie before they became friends. I wrote these stories based on the teaser videos the group had for ‘Elevator (127F)’ and ‘Pandora’s Box’ hence using that dreamy GIF. 

POV: 3rd person 

Word count: 1,700 + words 

Warning: Italics are for thoughts.  

–––

Essie will never forget the time that Johnny pretended to be the pizza delivery boy so he could flirt with her.

It was weeks after they first met when they talked outside her apartment. She was carrying Chinese food takeout as they conversed, delaying her lunch with her best friend Nini.

For this instance, he did the same but in a way that she expected from him. She heard that he was quite a player, and she should try not to fall in love with him. But unfortunately, she did.

It was a cold day – as always in Korea – and despite Nini’s craving for noodles, Essie didn’t cave in to her request. She wanted a giant pizza that had warm and gooey cheese, pepperoni, and bell peppers, so she called Pizza Express to have her custom order.

“I have no complaints with what we’re having for lunch since you’re paying for it, right?” Nini said, flashing a Cheshire cat grin to her best friend.

“Ugh, isn’t that obvious?” Essie rolled her eyes, “I know I’ll be paying for it. So please, be a patient old lady and wait for our food, okay?”

The other girl gave her a thumbs-up before she resumed the video she was watching on YouTube.

///

A few minutes later, their doorbell rang. Essie rushed to the door and checked the peephole if it was indeed the delivery guy. She gulped when she saw someone she didn’t expect to appear at her front door again.

It’s Johnny motherclucking Suh. What the crap is he doing here?

She saw him dancing while holding the Pizza Express box with one hand. He wore a checkered shirt with a funky-patterned cardigan on top and a pair of khaki chinos. The booger also wore eyeglasses and had his light-colored hair curly! He emulated nerd chic, which he is a far cry from in real life.

“Essie, is that the pizza? Why aren’t you opening the door?” Nini asked, who looked at her friend curiously.

The curly-haired girl peered into the peephole again and saw that Johnny was still dancing with the pizza box on one hand. He was doing robotic moves with his other hand and made silly faces as well.

“Yeah, it is the pizza guy…” Essie started, tempted to look into the peephole for the third time, “but at the same time, it isn’t.”

“Huh, what do you mean by that?”

“It looks like Johnny Suh has our pizza, and he’s dancing like an idiot outside our apartment.”

Nini burst into laughter with her statement. “Wow, he must be so into you then. He had to sabotage the real pizza delivery guy so he could flirt his way into your heart,” she said.

“Niniiiii!” her best friend whined, who also stomped the floor at how flustered she was. “Just open the freaking door, and I’m hungry,” the older girl grumbled before going back to her phone.

After three deep breaths, Essie finally opened the door to let Johnny Suh deliver their order. “One custom giant pizza with three different cheese, pepperoni, and bell peppers,” he said in his best professional voice before handing the box to her.

“Yeah, that is correct,” she mumbled, absentmindedly grabbing the pizza with one hand while the other searched into her pockets. “How much was it again?”

“Oh, no need to pay for that, princess, I already took care of it.” Johnny winked at her and gave her a thumbs-up.

“Oh God, Johnny…” Essie wasn’t able to contain her annoyance with his antics and rolled her eyes. “What brings you here then, aside from sabotaging the real pizza delivery guy?”

“I want to see how you’re doing,” he replied suavely, running a hand through his curly mane. “I was just in the area, wanting to hang out with my hyungs, but it turns out they weren’t in their apartment. Then I saw the pizza guy and knew that he was coming here, so I wanted to surprise you.”

“Okay then, thank you,” she said monotonously before heading inside again. “You may leave now if you want.”

“I’ll take no for an answer there, ma’am,” he said, now catching up with her in the apartment. “We might as well hang out.”

“Then I return the same answer to you, sir. No, I don’t want to hang out with you. Today’s my day off, and I want to catch up on sleep,” Essie placed the pizza on the kitchen counter then went to the fridge to retrieve some hot sauce.

“Then I’ll watch you sleep,” Johnny was persistent to make the girl hang out with him. “Or yet, sleep beside you.”

“Johnnyyyyy!” She couldn’t take it anymore and threw a glare at him. “Why are you so stubborn?”

“Because I want what I want to have right now, and that is to hang out with you!”

“Don’t you have any other friends than our neighbors? You can bother them instead!”

“But I don’t want to! I’m already here too, and I know you, so why the heck not?”

“Hold up, hold up! What is happening here?” Nini asked as she entered the kitchen. “It’s past noon, and your voices are too loud! What are you two arguing about?”

Essie rolled her eyes (for the nth time that day) and folded her arms over her chest. “He’s a stubborn piece of ass,” she grumbled. “And she’s an annoying baby princess,” he rebutted.

The older girl looked at them silently before bursting into laughter again. “Oh, you amuse me, Essie. Just give in to his request for now. He made the effort to deliver our pizza. And I bet you didn’t have to pay for it because he already did.”

“Fine, you all win!” The curly-haired girl glared at her best friend and the flirty guy. “But you better behave yourself, mister, because I am not having it.” She took out all the packets of hot sauce from the fridge and grabbed the pizza box again so she could take it to the living room.

“I promise I’ll be a good boy,” he purred in her ear when she has settled the food on the coffee table.

“Ugh, John! Please, stop doing this to me,” Essie groaned, gently pushing him away from her. “I’m thankful for treating us to pizza, but you don’t have to be so damn freaking flirty! We can be friends but not if you’re acting this way.”

Her words hit something in Johnny, who now flashed her a genuine smile. “You do? We can be friends?”

The girl nodded. “Yeah, sure. But just don’t do this again. I feel uncomfortable when someone’s too flirty.”

“But that’s part of my personality, babe. You’ll get used to it. But I’m glad we can be friends,” he said as he sat down beside her on the couch, opening the pizza box he held for approximately five minutes outside.

As the two started eating, Nini was watching them from the kitchen doorway. She never saw someone who acted like Johnny toward her best friend. He was quite direct with his actions, which most guys she saw Essie interact with don’t have the guts to do.

She smiled as Johnny dabbed the sides of Essie’s lips with a napkin. She saw how her best friend was embarrassed at the situation – her ears were glowing red. Nini held back her laughter this time and returned to the living room to get her share of pizza.

\\\

“I remember you were such a flirt when we first met, John,” Essie said one time when they were having breakfast.

Her boyfriend, who was in a white shirt that clung to his body nicely, almost spit out his food from the memory.

“Why do you have to remind me that, baby? I know we didn’t start on a good footing,” he said before eating a spoonful of rice and omelet.

“I know, but that was funny,” she giggled, gently pushing aside her utensils to grab the cup of coffee to her left. “Who knew I’d end up with you?”

He shrugged at her question and continued eating in silence. Essie observed him with a smile on her face as he ate. His hair, which was now light brown with some highlights, was tousled, and some strands almost covered his beautiful honey eyes. He had a ketchup stain near the collar of his shirt. The veins on his arms were more protruding.

“What are you looking at, babe?” He asked, slowly looking up at her.

“You,” she said softly before bringing the cup of coffee to her lips. “I am so lucky to have you, and sometimes I can’t still believe that we’re together, you know?”

“I could say the same too,” he responded with a grin on his face. “You know how the song goes: Everything I do, I do it for you,” he sang aloud the lyrics to the famous Bryan Adams song, making his girlfriend put down her cup of coffee and laugh.

“Damn, you’re cheesy!” She guffawed, slapping the table for effect. She thought of the moments that happened earlier – he was the one who woke her up by opening their sky blue curtains to let some sunlight shine through. “Good morning, baby, wake up,” he whispered before drawing them close when he saw her sit up from the bed.

Even if it took her ages to get up – it was the weekend away – Johnny returned to their shared bedroom and plopped beside her. He laid on the bed with his body face down, showing off his wide but sculpted back. He rested his face on one of their pillows and looked at her lovingly.

“Love, please,” she said breathlessly, captivated with his beauty. “Come on now, let’s have breakfast,” he cooed, pulling her wrist repeatedly from his comfortable position.

“What did you prepare for us?” Essie replied, now standing at the foot of the bed. “The usual, because that’s the best I can cook,” he chuckled before he stood up and carried her bridal-style to their dining room.

“Thank you,” she said once he helped her to her seat. She pecked him on the cheek, which he returned on the lips. “Anything for my darling Essie.”

–––

FIN

P.S. If you’ve noticed, I tend to end my stories with that line. It may or may not be intentional. 

[the-l-spacer]

Promise all you say is true - Chapter 2

(Ch 1) (ao3)

Summary: Lloyd wakes up one morning to discover that, on a whim, the Metaverse had decided to release him and Raven from the Lovers archetype they had been locked in for as long as either could remember.

In the process, however, reality became… just a little screwed up.

Now, Raven is gone, and in his place is David Adams. David Adams, who had never left Ashland, working middle-management at Justacorp. David Adams, who had never heard the anvils, never jumped off Warner's Peak.

But Lloyd remembers everything, and he makes it his personal quest to win back the love of his life.

...No matter how many 'strictly professional' coffee dates it took.

Chapter summary: Over carrot cake, the two hash some things out

Y’all… I seriously didn’t expect this scene to happen or get as long as it did but. Here we are. With this chapter, the setup for the fic is officially DONE and we can get into the stuff y’all came here for (aka Lloydven angst). In the meantime, enjoy Lloyd and Han getting in some awkward bonding time!

- 

“Feeling better?”

The man sat opposite her simply sighs. “Yes. Thank you, Han.”

Over a tray of tea, cakes and sweets (for Lloyd, his first meal of the day), the two go over, in painstaking detail, every narrative visited, every jaunt taken through the CU, every significant location in Raven’s life. As minutes, and then an hour ticks by, marked by the comings and goings of those around them (and the increasingly resigned expressions of the waitstaff as they drag out their meal as long as possible), they scrawl out possible places the missing Postie could be on a steadily depleting supply of napkins, provided generously by the small bakery in New Camden, a joint quickly becoming synonymous with Serious Talk Time.

When it comes to names and places, Han can’t be of much help, but that is to be expected, her having only known the man a scant year. Instead, she simply offers the obvious, locations Raven and Lloyd had spoken of the most around her; the first and second Playhouse, New Albion, even entertaining the idea that he was here, in this narrative.

“Impossible,” Lloyd insists for the second time, though Han notes that he’s sounding significantly less certain than before.

“How are you so sure?” Before Lloyd can respond, she quickly adds, “Waitwaitwait don’t tell me. The both of you have… a psychic link. From your weird wizard powers. Or something.”

“I remind you that you too have, as you so eloquently put it, weird wizard powers.” He replies, one hand spearing a forkful of carrot cake, the other forming air quotes. “But that aside, you’re not completely wrong.”

Han raises an eyebrow. “Huh. I was going out on a limb there. You two are seriously linked together?”

“That’s actually the other thing I have to talk through,” he says. “Have Ravey and I told you about the Lovers archetype yet?”

“Give me a second.” Han takes a long sip from her cup of Earl Grey, mentally sorting through everything her mentors-slash-great-grandparents had taught her about Posthumans and the Metaverse. “It’s… the thing where you and him are basically bound together, right? I thought that was metaphorical.”

Shaking his head, Lloyd says, “It’s very much not. After spending enough time in each others’ company -and back then, we had nothing but time to spare- we began embodying the Lovers archetype.

I shan’t bore you with the details, but you have the broad strokes of it. Essentially, we became irreversibly bound. As trite as it sounds, we had a sixth sense, of sorts, around the other. When we were apart, I would feel his absence like… a missing limb, so we always knew when the other was close by.”

Only half-listening to his explanation, Han lets Lloyd ramble. God knows he needed it. He was one of those people who absolutely had to talk through their problems, a tendency that annoyed her on any given day, except this one. Extenuating circumstances and all.

Huh. Deja vu.

Her mind wanders to the first time she had been here, it was just her and Raven back then, him having invited her out after the Singularity left New Albion. It really was a memory, a story for another time, but it had been surprisingly nice, even if her eyes were still red and puffy in a way that makeup just couldn’t conceal.

They had shared a slice of (what else) carrot cake, speaking of narratives and what she had learned of the art of finesse, and then, as they talked more, coping mechanisms, sacrifice, loss, and a rambling (but utterly sincere) apology from Raven.

It had ended with a hug, and granted, it was kind of awkward, Raven having to get up from the corner chair he was squeezed in to give her a half-embrace, as close as he could get to her side of the table (the bakery was as renowned for its carrot cake as it was infamous for its tight quarters). But Han still remembers the feeling of his arms around her shoulders, warm and almost reassuring.

And now he’s gone. Gone along with the rapport they were just starting to build after their disastrous first encounter. Just when she was finally beginning to see him as family.

The only questions on her mind are how and why.

She tunes back in as Lloyd finishes his explanation. “So you’re saying that because you’re locked into this archetype, if he was here, you’d know.”

What? She could multi-task just as good as anyone else!

Lloyd sighs tiredly. “Yes, but there’s the rub. I don’t think that him and I form the archetype any more.”

Well this raises more questions than answers. Still, Han pats his arm. “Drink your tea. You’ve been talking for way too long as is.”

She waves off Lloyd’s apologies over his loquaciousness, sweeping a hand as if swatting an imaginary fly, then realising this was a gesture she had ended up incorporating into her movements after seeing it time and time again from Raven.

Dammit. Even when absent he finds a way to worm into her head. The guy was just infectious like that. Is. Is infectious. She refuses to believe that he’s truly gone. Speaking of…

“If what you’re saying is true, I guess that answers the ‘why’ aspect of things, He’s gone because the Metaverse decided to release you from your archetype.”

Over the rim of his teacup, Lloyd’s mouth quirks into a half-smile, the first Han had seen from him all day. “You always find a way to make things sound so simple.”

“It’s why you keep me around,” Han jokes, feeling a responding grin spread across her face.

“Don’t put yourself down like that,” Lloyd says, leaning forward with sudden seriousness. “You do have a good head about you, and I… admire the speed at which you’re picking up your Posthuman abilities. You successfully mastered in a matter of months what took me decades to learn, and-”

Han can’t help the rush of pride that comes at his words. Lloyd was always the more critical of her two mentors, and nigh impossible to please (she was still rather sore over his snide comment over the tunnels). She almost misses what he says next, but catches it just in time.

“-and you’re a perfectly charming person. I had my doubts before, but it’s clear that you’re Isabel’s kin. You remind me a lot of her, you know.”

Han softens. “I had a great teacher. Two great teachers, as a matter of fact.”

He winces at the mention of his missing boyfriend, and she impulsively reaches a hand across the table to grasp his. “We’ll find the other one together, okay?”

Lloyd grips her hand, giving a tight nod, steely resolve in his eyes.

“Okay.”

- 

They exit the bakery as afternoon fades into evening, the gas lamps that line the pavements igniting one by one, illuminating the streets of New Camden.

“Just to go over the plan one more time,” Han says, “I’ll stay here and try to scout him out. If he isn’t here, I’ll try New Albion. Then, where the First Playhouse used to be.”

Lloyd hums in affirmation. “I’ll keep you updated on my whereabouts as well. If you find him, let me know.”

“Of course, and you do the same.”

“I will. Keep safe.”

“You too.”

They stand there, then, regarding each other in the lamplight. Finally, Lloyd reaches out a hand, as if to administer a firm handshake.

Nah, fuck that.

Han bypasses the hand, and wraps Lloyd in a tight hug. After a moment, she feels his arms wrap around her too.

“It’s going to be okay,” Han says once they break apart, gripping him by the shoulders.

“I… can’t thank you enough for your help, Han. I’ll make it up to you if- once he’s found.”

“Psssh, that’s not necessary,” she retorts with a smirk, already walking in the opposite direction. “Your acknowledgement that I’m more talented than you is more than enough payment.”

Lloyd bristles. “I was being nice. Don’t push it.”

“You said it! It’s been set in stone! I’m gonna tell everyone I know about this!” She calls over her shoulder, disappearing into an alleyway.

Determined not to let her have the last word, Lloyd yells, "Only if you admit to everyone that I'm a great teacher!”

"Never! Also, screw you!"

Shaking his head and chuckling, Lloyd begins making preparations of his own, mentally steeling himself to make the narrative jump, and going down the mental list of places he was going to search.

The hunt would begin in the Collective Unconscious. Then, the different narratives the lovers (now lowercase) had frequented. Finally, once all other options had been exhausted, he would return to Ravey’s home narrative. The one place the two had never been to, at the insistence of his missing half.

Ashland.

[meowdymista]

i. the one that got away

Warning: spoilers

Part of Devil’s Backbone project - Masterlist - redrafted on ao3

“I think someone’s coming.”

Sadie leans out from around the station, expecting another false alarm. Abigail keeps her head buried in her son’s hair, breathing in his scent, trying to keep calm. This was why she stayed in camp as long as she had. It was bad enough waiting for his damn horse for the duration of whatever job he was on. The anxiety driven adrenaline was always pumping, and the sudden rush of relief often left her over tired and snappy - she prays under her breath, eyes scrunched closed. Bring him back to me. Please bring him back to me and I will never shout again - I will be silent, I will be complacent, just please, please-

“Is that...?” Riding haggard down the train tracks, he’s rasping, bloody and muddy, but oh so very there. Spotting her with her long blonde braid and the fitted trousers, he forces the crook of his mouth to chisel into his cheek, and tips his hat with the last of his energy.

“Mrs Adler.”

“Arthur!”

Her soft features shatter. Tilly is already running into the road, not looking back, her sobs the opposite end of the spectrum..

“Arthur! Arthur, you made it!”

“Let’s git him off his horse. Tilly, think you can hitch her?” The grunt is undeniable. Raspy, rough and deep. It’s not him. She squeezes her eyes tighter, stars erupting under her lids - Please, please, please-

“Mama! Uncle Arthur’s back!” She tries to gather the energy to keep him close, but her body is a bag of bones with no tendons. The boy tries to tug her up by her index finger, but the weight of the world is suffocating. Her boy - their boy. All that wasted time. She still couldn’t tell him.

“Forget me,” grumbles Arthur, his spurs clanking over the planks. “Where’s Abigail?”

“She’s- she’s here. What happened?”

“Abigail-” The heat that tilts her chin is gentle despite the calloused skin. Her body responds, sweeping her face to the left and then back into the safespace of his hand. “Abigail, look at me.”

A sob heaves out of her chest, her lashes dropping their heavy load as he comes into focus, dishevelled, beaten, but unmistakably there. He takes a breath to speak, but it catches and his own mouth droops lower than she has ever seen. His other hand holds her neck, supporting it. “He-” The tears fall with his hat. “Abigail.”

She throws herself up against him, sobbing uncontrollably, crying harder when she catches Jack’s small voice asking Tilly if Mama is hurt, is he hurting her, she looks like she’s hurting.

“He came back.”

“John?” She scrambles, trying to push him back so she can see the verity in his eyes, but his grip is surprisingly firm for his shrinking frame.

“Abigail…”

“Where is he? Where-” And already her energy is used. She slumps back against the wall, her weight taking him with her.

“Woah there cowboy,” growls Sadie, pulling him back, but Abigail is past caring. There was no weight left to crush her. She feels him resist at first, before relaxing, allowing the woman to pull him back until he is lying on the planks barely able to catch his breath between coughing fits. She hears the slug of water Tilly retrieves from his satchel, and even hears the air as he shakes his hand at her, still spluttering breathlessly.

He groans loudly as the fit passes and he accepts the drink.

“Did you say something about John?” Sadie is squatted next to him, holding his shoulder to keep him balanced. Tilly is knelt the other side, wiping the gleam from his brow. “What happened when you got back? Micah? Dutch? The money?” 

“Jack?” he gasps suddenly.

“I’m here, Uncle Arthur!” The man sighs with relief, or exhaustion. Jack brushes Abigail’s hair from her face. “Mama, are you sick?”

Sadie curses. “I think she’s passed out.”

“Nah, she’s there.” He coughs and staggers to his feet despite Tilly’s objections. “She’s in shock. C’mon, we all need-” He hacks away again, shaking his head as his adopted sister rubs his back. “We need a roof. Somewhere to stay. Somewhere-”

“Somewhere to get you two rested up,” finishes Sadie. He nods. “Tilly, I think there’s a room above the gunsmith.”

“I’ll be right back,” she promises, lifting her yellow skirts, her beaten boots kicking the dirt up behind her.

“Unser Retter!”

“No, no, he’s fine, leave him be.”

“Ist sie verletzt?”

“She’s with me too. I just sent my friend to get us a room.” Sadie tries to disrupt the amalgamation of foreign chatter, but it’s sweeping over Abigail’s head, swirling into nothingness.

“This man- he helped my family. His friend; she is sick also?”

She sighs in exasperation. “Listen, we’ve just been through a lot, we don’t need saving. Like I said, my friend-”

A male voice gushes more foreign sounds.

“My father. He wants to help. He- he-” The small voice sighs. “Er wird sie heben. Heben?”

“I don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I think he’s offering to carry her,” growls Arthur. “We’re fine, friend. Thank you. I can get her.”

“Arthur, you ain’t even carryin’ yourself right now!”

“You and Tilly need to get yourselves out of here.” He looks up to Sadie, blue eyes begging, each breath rasping from his open mouth. “There’s too many of us. I’ll take care of ‘em but I need you-”

“What you need, Arthur Morgan, is to quit trying to be the hero,” she snaps, grunting as she lifts Abigail to her feet. “You helped me out at Hanging Dog Ranch, and I did my best to get John’s family out. You can’t do this alone. Let me help.”

“Fine,” he wheezes, stroking Abigail’s arm as Sadie helps her in the direction Tilly left it.

“Where’s Pa?”

“Listen, Jack. I need you to be brave. Can you do that for me?” The boy nods, eyes wide with fear. “Follow Mrs Adler and your ma. Miss Tilly is getting you a bed for the night.”

“You not comin’?” calls Sadie, glaring back.

“I’ve been runnin’ with Dutch over twenty years. They know who I am. It’s the best chance I can give yer.”

“Sir, you stay with my family.”

He grins. “See, hospitality abound!” He looks back to the girl and her father. “I can’t accept that. I’m a dangerous man, but thank you.” “We found you on the road,” the girl replies. “We brought you home. My father, he has medicine.”

“I’m past medicine, miss.”

“My uncle is doctor in Germany. You come with us. We have medicine.”

******

They pass a week in Annesburg, Sadie scouting ahead with advice of various homesteads.

“If we could get to Strawberry,” murmurs Arthur as the blonde mother forces a bowl of grey blue paste into his hands. “There’s a couple of cabins up there. A taxidermist who’s never home and a newly married feller that rode off the cliff.” “How’d you know about those kinda things, Arthur?” she asks incredulously as he spoons the goo into his mouth. “And what the hell is that?”

“I quit askin’.”

“I know I knocked Pearson the whole time we were in camp, but right now he looks like the chef of the century.”

His  chuckle tickles his throat into a cough. “They make proper food too. I think it’s medicine of some kind. Or poison. Either way, no one else here seems to get it. Want some?”

“I’ll pass.” Sadie surveys him. His eyes are a little less dark, his breathing nowhere near as raspy and somehow his face is a little fuller. “You know, Morgan, I thought you were dead when you rode off.”

“So did I.” He coughs into the handkerchief again before clearing his throat. “Listen, go North outta here an’ take the road North East, up the hillside. Eventually you’ll see a little cabin with blue shutters - last time I went by, the place was empty and had been for a while. Might be a better place for y’all to stay ‘til we can get somethin’ more permanent.”

“What about you?”

“I got contacts. Met a widow an’ a coupl’a hermits.” He shudders as he forces the last of the paste down his throat. “One’s a self proclaimed King. I gotta check the small print, but I’m pretty sure if I kill him, that makes me the new monarch.”

“Oo, look at you! Got your sights set high, huh?” Sadie lands a soft punch to his shoulder as he coughs out a laugh. “Living up to the legend!”

*****

“SNAP!”

“Yeh’re gettin’ good at this, Jack.”

“I’m winning! I’m winning!”

“You sure are, son. C’mon, I’m gonna go a bit quicker now, yeh ready?”

“Damn straight!”

“Hey now, what would your mama do if she heard you cursin’ like tha’?” There’s a small nervous giggle. “Naw, this time it’s just between us boys. Don’t be sayin’ tha’ in front of your mama, ok, Jack?”

“Sorry, Uncle Arthur.”

“S’alright, just don’t go makin’ a habit of it, yer hear? Else she won’t let me play you again.”

The silence is broken by the flick of cards. The world is swirling, knocking her sick. Everything aches and her head is heavy - it takes a few seconds for her brain to catch up. The damp is leaking into her hair before she realises that she’s crying.

“Mama?”

“It’s ok, Jack. Keep practicing.” A chair drags dully across the rug and the rugged warm hands encase the folded frozen pair on her stomach. “Abigail?”

The whisper is warm and dances over her skin, waking it up. Blinking, she tries to open her eyes, but there is too much moisture. His thumb strokes her lashes clean, and she tries again. Arthur is watching her with concern, his blond hair a halo in the light from the window.

“Hey there, darlin’. You thirsty?” She shakes her head, her neck stiff, but as she swallows to speak her throat is dry. “Here, we got you a cup, just take a sip for me.”

She obeys, accepting his help as he tips the cup to her lips. Through the gap her swollen eyes can make, she sees Jack turning cards and counting them to himself. “Did you teach him to do that?” she croaks.

Following her gaze, he chuckles. “Blackjack was no fun without a dealer.” She scowls as he leans back to cough. “I’m just messin’. Kinda.”

She sighs, a smile trying to fight it’s way onto her face, but the anchors pull down at her cheeks. “You said- Something about John?”

He hesitates, glancing at the boy as he scrunches up his handkerchief. She touches his hand, the one that’s still on the bed.

“Please?”

He sighs, fingers scratching into his beard. “I will.” He meets her gaze, his eyes sad and sick. “But not with the boy here. Later. I promise.”

[izzy-b-hands]

Too Much Blues

Gotta be honest, no idea what this is. I wanted to write, I put on some music and did some jumping around Spotify, and now here this is. I’ve been writing for like three hours and it somehow got dark around me, idk when that happened. 

Not sure if this really qualifies as angst? It isn’t happy, but it isn’t like overwhelmingly sad for Eugene or Snafu either. Y’all will have to let me know I guess. 

Title is from the song by James Booker which I have linked there on his name because I recently discovered him, and he is absolutely wonderful, and deserves more people listening to his music. After you read this, give him a listen. He’s Freddie levels of amazing piano playing, and sings so strongly it transports you. I can’t believe I didn’t know of him until now, and I wish I had sooner. 

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

The taste of blood on his tongue wasn’t unfamiliar, but it was unwelcome. 

The alley he was laying in wasn’t cold, thanks to the August heat, but it was wet. Rain poured, sluicing off of the rooftops as fast as it could fall from the clouds. 

He wouldn’t admit that this had been a bad idea though. Not yet. It would have to get a lot worse for that. 

Eugene had thought it was a bad idea from the start. 

“You can’t win the money we need by gambling. The math doesn’t pan out-” 

“I’m lucky,” Snafu had told him, accompanying it with a kiss. “I can win us a thousand dollars, easy. Give me the weekend in New Orleans, let me hit up the old haunts, and I’ll have it. I promise.” 

“At least let me go with you,” Eugene had begged as he had watched him pack. “For safety’s sake.” 

“I used to live there, Gene. The city isn’t any more unsafe than anywhere else anyway. Besides what else are we gonna do?” 

Eugene hadn’t had an answer for that, and neither did Snafu for that matter. It was purely bad luck and bad timing, that two of the cats had needed the vet, that Eugene had busted his arm trying to help repair part of the roof after a particularly bad hailstorm fucked it all the way up, that another storm had hit after that and done such damage that they had to hire someone to come fix it up instead of trying to do it themselves, that the break in Eugene’s arm wasn’t healing well and required more visits to the doctor than previously expected. 

The first thousand they’d raised by selling off things from the house, one by one, first to the pawn shop in town, then by driving out of town to the pawn shops of neighboring towns until they had enough. Their house was slightly more bare (and missing some furniture) but it was worth it. Neither of them wanted to beg help from Eugene’s parents, or Sid and Mary. Not their debts, not their problem, was the agreed upon mantra. 

But the pawn shops didn’t want any more of their things, and to pay off the thousand now would drain their accounts. 

And Snafu had always enjoyed gambling. 

It wasn’t that he hadn’t anticipated this. You could get jumped in any city in the country, for any reason, he figured. 

This time, however, he wasn’t sure what the reason was. He’d lost more than he’d won, and the few hundred he had on him was still all present and accounted for. They’d beaten him to a pulp, and run, and that was that.

“Just bad luck,” he mumbled as he stood and staggered out of the alley. 

People traipsed past him without a care, some drunk, others just deep in conversation with those they walked beside, or taking in the scenery. The city had never chewed them up and spat them back out like it had him. Maybe other cities had, and this was their safe place. 

It had been his, once. And he wanted to believe it still was. 

But it was difficult, bloody and bruised, the rain seemingly never-ending as he finally dropped to the curb and sat. And he was tired. It had been hours finding any game he could, in any place he could, trying to win as much as possible. No booze like he might have had normally, this was too important not to stay sharp. 

But even that hadn’t done it. It was nearly Sunday morning, and Eugene would be expecting him back by Sunday night. It didn’t seem enough time, not nearly enough time. 

“You need a rest,” the man who had stopped in front of him said it not as a question, but as a fact. He wore a sharp suit, and looked just as tired as Snafu. 

“Don’t we all?” 

The man nodded. “I know a restful place.” 

He let the man help him up, and tried not to slow him as they made their way down the road to the nearest bar. 

“Needs some cleaning up,” the man said to the bartender, who nodded and came out from behind the bar with a rag and a small first aid kit. 

“I can pay you,” Snafu said, even though it hurt to say. Any money gone was less to bring home to Eugene, and he already could barely bear how little he would be bringing. 

“Nah,” the man replied. “How about a story instead?” 

“What about?” 

“Anything,” the man replied, watching as the bartender cleaned the cuts on Snafu’s face. “Lotta rings on them, hm?” 

Snafu winced at the antiseptic, and nodded. “What little I got to see of them before...well.” 

“Got everything you had before they took you down?” 

“Yeah,” Snafu replied. “Thankfully.” 

“How long you been away?” 

Snafu sighed. “Too long, maybe. I live in Alabama now, with my hu-” 

It came so naturally to say back at home, where he knew he was mostly safe, but he bit his tongue now, and held his breath as he watched the man’s reaction. 

“Your husband,” the man finished. “Okay. And you came back to town because...” 

“We need money,” Snafu admitted. “I was gonna win it for us. Some cards, whatever else I could find, you know.” 

“Just see what’s going on for the night, what you start winning at,” the man agreed. “You win all you need?” 

Snafu scoffed, and nodded his thanks to the bartender as he finished up. “I wish. Six hundred and some I got, but I need a thousand. I’ve got the rest of tonight, and most of tomorrow to get the last four hundred.” 

“Son,” the man said. “It’s already four in the morning on Sunday. How much luck you think you’re gonna find before you have to head home?” 

“Not enough,” Snafu muttered. “I can’t go back to him with just this.” 

The man nodded. “How well can you play?” 

“Play what?”

“Piano. I can tell by your hands, those fingers.” 

Snafu shrugged. He had been given lessons as a child, but hadn’t made much effort to keep up with them the older he got. And war didn’t exactly lend itself well to piano practice, what with no drops of pianos on the islands in the Pacific. 

“I’ve got to run and play at church myself,” the man said. “But my grandmother is at home, too sick in bed to go. She wants nothing more than to hear some of the music I’d be playing. If you can do even a song or two, it would mean the world. And I’ll give you that last four hundred.” 

He smirked. “Four hundred dollars to play piano for someone I don’t know? Pull the other one.” 

“Not at all,” the man said. “I give you my word, and my name.” 

“Your name?” 

“Names are power,” the man replied. “Call me Jim. You?” 

“Snafu.” 

Jim grinned. “That ain’t your real name, but Jim ain’t my real name either, so fair enough. Come on then, and I’ll take you to her. Play for the next few hours, and the money is yours.” 

Jim led out of the bar with only a wave to the bartender, who seemed nonplussed by all of it, and called them a cab. It drove them from the Quarter to Metairie quickly, to a small white house with blue trim. 

Jim didn’t introduce him to the elderly woman who was tucked into the small twin bed in the living room, only said a few words to her, and gestured Snafu to the piano near it, then left. 

He settled onto the bench, and let his fingers rest uncertainly on the keys. 

“Can you play me something about losing?” the woman’s voice was soft, but scratched with the effort of being brought forth. 

“I know about losing,” Snafu murmured, and patted the wad of bills in his pocket before starting in on St. Jame’s Infirmary Blues. It was one of the few songs he could remember well, though it certainly didn’t fit the bill of a ‘church song.’ “Though you wanted something from your church though? That’s what Jim told me.” 

“Jim? Is that what he’s having you call him? Well, he is a sweetheart, but he doesn’t need to know what I have you play,” the woman replied. “I like this one.” 

It wasn’t a particularly long song, but he let his fingers play on the keys, adding into it, until she hummed discontentedly. 

“What else do you know?” 

“More blues?” Snafu winced. “Mostly remember what folks around here play, what I heard before I left, what I heard now walkin’ the streets. Think I could replicate some of it-” 

“Don’t talk it over till it falls apart,” the woman interrupted gently. “Just play. I trust you.” 

He searched his mind for the chords, the melodies, letting them fall into place, then playing about with them. He didn’t worry about perfectly matching what he could recall in his head; she hummed happily each time he did his own variations. 

There was a clock on the wall, but he paid it no mind, until Jim came back inside. 

He motioned for Snafu to continue playing, then stepped up to the bed, kneeling down to the woman. 

“Thank you,” he said softly. “She’s smiling. How she always wanted to go.” 

Snafu stopped short, and nearly tripped running out from behind the piano. “Is she-” 

“She kept telling us it would be today, and she’s not often wrong about anything,” Jim chuckled. “Thank you for your kindness, and your help. If I couldn’t be here, I’m glad you could be.” 

“You don’t know me,” Snafu couldn’t help but murmur. 

“You’re a son of the city, and I bet you had a grandmother sweet as mine that you once played for.” 

“Something like that,” Snafu said, and pushed the memories back down. 

“That’s enough. Don’t need to know everything about someone to be kind to them, to do the most basic human act of creating something to make them happy, to ease them in a time of suffering. And I knew you could and would do that for her.” 

Jim handed him a bundle of bills. “Count it if you like; I don’t blame you if you do. But it’s all there. Four hundred, plus an extra hundred in case you run into trouble on the way home.” 

Snafu took the bundle with shaking hands. “Thank you. Is there...” 

“You’ve done everything we needed you to,” Jim interrupted, a soft and sad smile on his face. “You get home to your husband, and take care of your debts. Be well. Maybe we’ll find each other again, should you come back. Bring your husband this time, and we’ll all share a drink.” 

“You sound so certain that I’ll be back,” Snafu said. 

“Because you will be,” Jim said matter-of-factly. “A visit to one home, from another. Because the city is always home to you, even if you forget that once you go. But places never forget the children that grew up in their streets. Their pain and their happiness and their sadness. She’ll remember this particular sadness, and the pain you met here this time. And be ready to comfort you to make up for it, the next time you come home.” 

He left the house, and found a cab waiting for him outside. The ride to the train station was a bit longer than the ride to the house had been, and he considered using it to count the bills Jim had given him. 

But he didn’t. Somehow, in his gut, he knew there was no need. 

He didn’t on the train ride back either. Instead, he slept, the most he had slept since getting to New Orleans. 

At the station, he called Eugene. 

“I’ve got enough. More than enough.” 

He hung up before Eugene could ask any questions, and settled onto a bench outside the station to wait for him. 

The taste of blood on his tongue, as he chewed at his lower lip anxiously, was not unfamiliar, or unwelcome. 

The iron tasted like life, whatever remained of his, of Eugene’s. 

He wondered if there would be music at the end, for them.