#in my defense i was desperate to play rhythm heaven-

[puppys-rhythm-heaven]

the switch is almost dead so i hope we get a new rhythm heaven soon. i will not shut up about it for probably at least a month once we do. that time will probably be spent getting every superb n also a lot of perfects-

[ikeromantic]

Warm

Day 30 of Ikemektober! 

I chose Ray! Let me just say, this started out as a heartwarming story and then took a left turn into smut. Fair warning! Approx. 1500 words. Why is Ray so delectable??

Ray sat at his desk, staring out the window at the training grounds. The trees were red and gold in their autumn glory, and the dahlias were blooming in the flowerbeds. Despite a chill in the air, it was a beautiful day. 

He turned when he heard someone at the door. Alice stepped in, carrying a little basket. 

“I thought you might need a break.” She gave him a knowing little smile. 

Ray was busy these days with rebuilding efforts and peace negotiations. A never ending series of requests and planning arrangements had to be reviewed, signed on or rejected, and discussed. It was better than war, but still exhausting. These little visits from Alice were all that kept him going some days.

“I suppose I do. It’s been three hours since -” 

“Four hours, actually. That was when I brought you tea. You skipped lunch,” Alice chided.

Ray rubbed a hand across his head, feeling a bit like a kid caught breaking the rules. “Ha, was it four? I guess I was pretty focused.”

“You could say that. Sirius stopped in around lunch to see if you were hungry and you didn’t even say anything.”

He didn’t remember the Queen stopping in, but he had been pretty focused. “Alright - alright. I can tell you’ve got something in mind.”

“Mhmm. I thought we’d take a little picnic.” Alice put her hand on the basket. “I packed us some sandwiches.”

Ray grinned. “I’ve got just one condition.”

“What?” Alice looked startled.

The King closed the space between them, and pulled her against his chest for a kiss. She was soft and warm in his arms. Her gasp of surprise melted into a moan of pleasure as he tasted her lips and slipped his tongue between them. He couldn’t help the way his hands slid naturally down her back to cup her rear. Maybe they didn’t need to go for a picnic afterall. His room was just down the hall and . . .

She pulled back, breath unsteady. “I know what you’re thinking, Ray.” Her eyes were lit with desire. “We could -”

“Well, little lady, it looks like you talked the boss into taking a break.” Sirius called out from the hall, a knowing smirk on his full lips. 

Ray coughed and made some space between himself and Alice, though he kept his arm around her waist. “You have the worst timing, my friend,” he muttered. Then louder, “She did. We’re having a picnic.”

“I know. I helped pack the basket.” Sirius knew full well what he’d interrupted, but he didn’t so much as blush. “I can recommend the best spot too. Do you remember how to get there, little lady?” 

Alice nodded. “Yep!” She smiled up at Ray. “There are blooming willows and autumn crocus. It will be beautiful.”

“I can’t say no to that,” he replied. Though nothing would be as beautiful as seeing Alice’s face when they made love. Just thinking about it stirred him. He couldn’t look so desperate though, not in front of his friend or his lover. 

The two of them left with the basket, with Sirius promising to finish the building plan reviews Ray was working on. That way he could take the rest of the afternoon off to enjoy the day. It almost made up for his earlier interruption.

Outside, the sun was bright, and the breeze was crisp. It smelled of flowers in bloom and fallen leaves. Thick grass, still green, cushioned the lovers’ steps as they made their way from the more traveled parts of the Black Army headquarters to a forested part of the garden.

Under the trees, the light was golden and red, and the shadows were deep. Alice spread a blanket on the sunnier side of one of the trees, where they had a nice view of a river bank and the blossoming willow trees. Here and there, the subtle shine of magic crystals added an enchanted glow to the leaves.

“I am so glad I can live here in Cradle, with you. I can’t think of anywhere I would ever want to be.” Alice smiled and reached out to take Ray’s hand.

“I’m glad too.” Ray squeezed her fingers gently. 

After they ate, Ray leaned back against the tree and Alice sat between his legs on the blanket, resting on his chest. They were quiet, a comfortable silence. The birds sang and the leaves whispered against each other. This far out, they could only just hear the occasional shout from headquarters.

Ray couldn’t help but think about how close he’d come to losing Alice. To Amon. To her home. She might have died or left. It made him aware of the space she took in his heart now. He could not imagine the world with an Alice-sized hole in it. She was a part of him and a piece of his home. 

She must have been having similar thoughts, because she turned her head to look at him. “Isn’t it scary to think of all the ways this could have turned out?”

“Hm? Like what? You falling in love with a guy like Jonah Clemence? He did want to date you . . .” 

Alice elbowed him with a giggle. “He is pretty cute though.”

“Hey!” Ray sat up straight and caught her chin in his hand. “I thought you only had eyes for me? Are you tryin’ to make me jealous.”

“Maybe.” She grinned at him slyly. 

“I know how to fix that.” Slowly, he leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Nibbling gently at her lower lip, until her mouth opened to let out an excited breath. Then his tongue slipped between them to stroke her tongue. 

She wasn’t one to take this attack lying down. She wiggled her hips against him, teasing. He knew it teased her too though - he could tell by the little sound she made when he reacted. Alice turned her body to face him, sliding her hands under his shirt to scrape her nails against his skin.

“Naughty kitty,” Ray gasped. He loved and hated the way it felt. 

“Mmm, I can be even naughtier,” she murmured and bit his neck.

Ray nearly let out a very uncool moan. He was supposed to be the one teasing, not the other way around! His hands found their way under her skirt, stroking the skin of her thighs. She was so warm. Soft like silk. And . . . pantiless? He grinned at her, pleased.

Not to be outdone, Alice stroked a fingernail down his side, tickling him. Right to the waistband of his pants. Her other hand went to the buckle, quickly undoing his belt.

“A-alice,” he warned.

She just smiled and kissed him again. Her deft fingers had his buttons undone and his zipper down. Alice drew lazy circles on his pelvis above the rising shaft of his manhood. It was absolutely more than he could handle. 

“I don’t think I can control myself with you - if you - Alice, please -” Ray was almost pleading. It was his last line of defense as a fire built inside him. He tried to keep his emotions carefully balanced, but with a touch, she’d thrown all of that out the window and now he could only barely keep himself in check. 

“I want you to lose control,” she whispered. Her next kiss was so full of hungry passion that he couldn’t mistake her meaning. 

His hands slid further up, massaging her. Opening her. His fingers found her clit and he began to play. 

“Oh - my - n-now who’s naughty,” she gasped against his lips. 

Ray would have replied, but she chose that moment to free his length from his pants, and lift her hips. All his words disappeared as she sunk down onto him, impaling herself. All he could manage was a moan, one she silenced with her mouth. 

“Shhh,” she breathed, panting against his cheek. “D-don’t want to- to get caught.”

“Yes,” Ray breathed in reply, both an answer and a desperate gasp of pleasure. It took him a moment to catch up with his thoughts. Being inside her was heaven. She was beauty and love, divine. But he couldn’t let her win this little game.

With one hand, he found her clit again and began to rub it in rhythm with her pace. His other hand sought out her breast, pinching and teasing her nipples. 

Now it was Alice, biting his shoulder to keep herself quiet. She began to quiver, her breath growing more unsteady as she neared climax.

Ray could see nothing but her in these moments. Her eyes closed tight, her lips parted, cheeks pink. He was near to his peak too, unable to hold back anything as she rode him.

With a muffled cry, Alice shuddered, and Ray lost control as well, spending himself inside her. She laid her face against his chest, still breathing hard. 

“You’re amazing,” Ray sighed, stroking her hair. 

“Mhmm,” she grinned up at him. “You’re not bad either.”

He laughed and lay back against the tree. Together with her like this, the world was a warm place. Perfect. Beautiful.

[hookedonapirate]

Beyond a Reasonable Doubt

Summary: Detective Killian Jones took an indefinite leave of absence from SBPD after his brother was murdered in the Line of Duty. Bitter and broken, he resides in a cabin on the beach when his brother's former partner, David Nolan brings him a case he knows the vengeful detective won’t be able to resist. A case involving Liam's killer.  

Dr. Emma Swan makes all of her decisions like she operates on her patients—with care, competence and compassion. But when her colleague, Graham Humbert, is murdered in cold blood by the man who was freed because of a decision she made as a juror, she starts second-guessing herself. To make matters worse, her squeaky clean reputation is being questioned when she becomes a suspect for Graham’s murder.

There is one detective who believes she’s innocent, and he has a plan to protect Emma and find his brother's killer at the same time. When Killian finds himself caught between his duties to the SBPD and his need for vengeance, matters are only complicated by the feelings he develops for the woman he's supposed to protect.

He's impulsive and hot-tempered, and she's methodical and cool under pressure. Despite their differences, can they work together to bring the murderer to justice, or will the murderer get to them first?

A/N: Many thanks go to @ultraluckycatnd for her wonderful beta-ing skills and @onceuponaprincessworld as always for her encouragement and letting me bounce ideas off of her.

Posting this a day early because it's my day off. I have the next chapter done, and in the meantime, I'll be working on The Princess and Her Sultan for those who have been patiently waiting and because I miss writing for that universe.

I have to warn you, this chapter is a bit absurd lol, but it's fun, I promise. And the end of the chapter will give you a hint for what's to come in the next chapter.

Rated: Explicit due to mature language, character death, violence, murder and smut. The scenes won’t be too graphic, but I’d rather overrate than underrate it.

Catch up: Pro I Ch 1 I Ch 2 I Ch 3 I Ch 4

Also available on: AO3 I FF.N

Chapter 6

Hans forces a tight smile on his face and hesitantly shakes Killian’s hand, obviously embarrassed he’d invited her to his hotel room. His features contort in pain as if Killian is gripping his hand a little too tightly. 

  Killian loosens his grip, apology flickering over his face. “Sorry, mate, sometimes I forget my own strength. I once tapped a bloke in the nose and broke several of his nasal bones.”

  Unmistakable fear shows in Hans’ eyes and he quickly rips his hand from Killian’s tight clutch and spins around on his stool, returning to his drink and chugs it down.

  Emma is still recovering from the initial shock of Killian coming over to… what, rescue her? Or stake his claim even though she’s not his to claim? She’s not entirely sure, but she plays along, flashing a sarcastic smile. “These heels are killing my feet. I had to sit down.”

  Killian moves behind her and places both hands on her shoulders, squeezing gently as he sweetly kisses her temple. Her entire skin warms from his touch. “Well, how about I give you a good foot rub when we get home, hmm?” he murmurs in her ear loud enough for Hans to hear as Killian kneads his fingers into her shoulders.

  Emma has to swallow the moan rising in her throat as his decadent, silky voice penetrates her ear and his firm hands give her a momentary dose of heaven. 

  Holy fuck.  

  He’s not even doing anything to her, and she’s completely turned on. She’s not imagining his hands on her achy feet, giving her a good, thorough rubdown. Certainly not. “Mmmm, that sounds amazing, babe.”

  He grins against her earlobe, causing a shiver to skate down her spine. When he removes his hands from her shoulders and extends one to her, she feels the loss of his warmth. “Until then, are your feet rested enough to dance?”

  Emma slips her hand in his, interlaces their fingers and stands up, grinning from ear to ear. “I thought you'd never ask. Lead the way.” 

  She looks over at Hans to catch his reaction as they walk past him, holding hands. Even from behind, she can tell he’s sulking. 

  When she realizes Killian is actually leading her to the dance floor, panic rises in her chest, and she tugs on his hand to stop him. “Wait, are we actually dancing?”

  Killian turns his head around to look past her and nods. “Aye, love. Hans still has his eyes on us.” His jaw twitches as he shoots daggers at him. “Or rather, his eyes are still on you. So it’s best we keep up the ruse.” He moves again, pulling her through the crowd. 

  “But I don’t know how to dance,” she confesses, slightly ashamed. Her cousins took dance classes when they were younger and loved dancing but Emma mostly stuck to her books and simply listened to music rather than danced to it. 

  When they reach an appropriate spot on the dance floor, Killian stops and pulls her to him, placing her free hand on his shoulder and his open palm on her back. “There’s only one rule, love.” His eyes lift from their joined hands, and a breath escapes her when his face is only inches away, those baby blues boring into hers. “Pick a partner who knows what he’s doing.”

  Emma’s heart flutters as their bodies are pressed closely together. A hint of a smile curves her lips as she follows his lead, and soon they’re moving with the rhythm of the music like they’re at a fancy royal ball. But somehow she manages to replace her smile with a small scowl. “I didn’t need a dashing rescue, you know. I can take care of myself.” 

  He smirks knowingly. “I don’t doubt that, love, but I was saving you from getting scolded by the bride for causing a scene at her wedding.”

  Emma wrinkles her brows in confusion. “Causing a scene? What scene?”

  “Oh, come on, Emma, you were about two seconds away from giving that bloke a bloody nose.”

  “I was not,” she argues defensively.

  He lifts both brows. “Oh really? Because it sounded like he was inviting you back to his hotel room. If I were you, I would’ve kicked him in the bollocks.”

  “With the way you were staring at him and had that death grip on his hand, I’m surprised you didn’t. Talk about causing a scene,” she scoffs. “By the way, a nose only has two bones, not several.”

  “I know that, but judging by the scared shitless look on his face, he either didn’t know or didn't care,” Killian chuckles. 

  She tilts her head slightly, narrowing her eyes at him. “You weren’t jealous of him, were you?”

  He almost laughs. “Jealous of that wanker? In order to be jealous, I’d have to be threatened by him. But he’s not capable of snagging someone of your caliber.”

  Emma’s eyes widen in bemusement. “Someone of my caliber? And what caliber might that be?”

  “I told you, love, you’re the prettiest surgeon I’ve ever met.” He leans closer to whisper in her ear. “And you cut quite the figure in that dress.”

  Her face flushes as she cocks a brow. “So you’re saying you are capable?”

  Blush paints his cheeks, his lips giving into a smirk. “A man can dream, can’t he?”

  She doesn’t comment, and instead just stares into his eyes, which she’s beginning to think is a monumental mistake because she soon gets lost in those forget-me-not blues. Everything else around them disappears as they move across the dance floor, and all she can see is this gorgeous man who seems to be just as intrigued by her as she is by him. “Thank you,” she manages in a breathy whisper, her eyes still locked with his.

  His pointy ears actually perk up. “What was that? I don’t believe I heard you right because it sounded like you were actually thanking me instead of yelling at me.”

  She laughs. “That's because I was. You were right, I was two seconds from either punching Hans in the nose or giving him a swift kick in the balls. So thank you for stepping in... and for saving me from that asshole.”

  He chuckles and lifts his hand to stroke her cheek. “You’re very welcome, love.”

  The song ends, and the DJ plays something slow, but Emma has to admit she’s not ready to let him go yet. And she can tell he feels the same. It’s written all over his face. Which is confirmed when he releases her hand and wraps both arms around her waist. She curls her hands around the back of his neck and is so close to him, she can feel his heart beating against hers. She has to admit, he is very charming. Any woman would be a fool not to notice. Guilt stabs her when she recalls the mean things she’d said to him earlier, which definitely weren’t true. “I’m sorry for what I said before about a woman having to be either naive or desperate to fall for your charm.”

  To that, he pulls back slightly, astounded by her apology. Then his brows furrow. “Did the bartender spike your drink?”

  She giggles in his arms. “No, it was just… it was harsh… what I said.”

  He smiles warmly. “No need to apologize. I came onto you a little too strongly.”

  She scoffs playfully. “A little?”

  He blushes, his smile widening. “Okay, a lot too strongly.”

  “Not as strongly as Hans,” she points out.

  “That’s true. Now there’s a guy you’d have to be either naïve and desperate to date.”

  Emma nods in wholehearted agreement. 

  Killian breaks their trance to look over her shoulder. He smirks and whispers in her ear. “Don’t look now but we have an audience.”

  Emma glances behind her, seeing Anna, Elsa and Ingrid staring at them and smiling, obviously enjoying the show; they might as well be watching a rom-com while munching on popcorn from one of those giant movie theater tubs.

  “I told you not to look,” he chuckles. 

  She turns her head to face him again and laughs. “I’m glad we could entertain them.” 

  “Aye. It’s not even our wedding and yet we seem to be the stars of the show for the moment.” 

  She nods and stares at him for a moment, trying to figure out how they hadn’t met before. She’s heard about him, and he used to live in the same town as her, but somehow they had never crossed paths. 

  “What, love?” he inquires, noticing her staring at him thoughtfully.

  She shakes her head. “Nothing, you’re just… you’re a mystery to me. I can’t figure you out.”

  He cocks a brow, intrigued by her statement. “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you act all cocky and smug, yet the way you were dancing with Camila was…”

  “Was what?” he asks when she doesn’t finish her sentence.

  “It was freaking adorable,” she admits with a smile. “You weren’t trying to impress anyone, you were just being you.”

  He shrugs. “I’m good with kids. What about you, love?”

  “What about me?”

  “You seem so confident in your own skin, yet I look into your eyes and see someone who’s emotionally armored. Like you’re trying to protect yourself from something. Perhaps someone?”

  “Oh really? You can see that about me?” she asks with an amused grin.

  “You’re somewhat of an open book,” he says with a confident smirk.

  “Or maybe you’ve just heard my back story.”

  He chuckles. “You caught me.” Killian takes her hands and steps back, spinning her around and dipping her. She loses a breath as she looks up into his eyes. “I’ve heard we’re opposites, but we’re actually not so different, you and I.” He brings her back up and draws her into his arms again.

  “Oh? And how’s that?”

  “I grew up without parents as well.”

  Emma’s heart tightens when his eyes darken with sorrow. “Oh, I’m sorry,” she says sincerely. “But how does that make us similar?”

  “Because we both know far too much what it’s like to be alone.” 

  She knows he’s not only referring to losing his parents but also his brother. She wants to argue and tell him she’s not alone, but who is she kidding? She lost one of her few friends, and the only guy who’s confessed his affection for her is a psychotic killer. Well, she can’t say he’s the only guy because while Killian hasn’t announced he has a crush on her through an anonymous card, she can see how attracted he is to her. She can see it in his eyes. In fact, she wonders if she laid one on him, would he kiss her back?

  Emma’s eyes fall to his lips as she ponders the thought. Her gaze flickers back to his, and she loses a breath when she catches him staring at her lips. She wonders what his mouth tastes like, wonders what it would hurt if she kissed him just once. Her eyes return to his mouth and she leans in, aching to feel those pretty lips pressed against hers.

  A drum roll draws their attention to the center of the room, and they separate, looking to see what’s going on. They were so lost in their own little world and forgot they were at a wedding. 

  Anna prepares to toss her bouquet to a group of eager bachelorettes who shout and jostle for the best position to catch it. Emma wants no part in the bouquet toss, but Elsa seems to disagree when she grabs Emma’s hand and pulls her toward the group. 

  “Come on, Em, you’re single too!” 

  When Elsa releases her hand, Emma slinks to the back of the group and can’t wait for this to be over with. She looks over at Killian who’s gazing back at her longingly, and she can’t believe she almost kissed him. Well, she can—he’s fucking gorgeous—but at her cousin’s wedding? In front of all the guests? What was she thinking?

  Anna tosses the bouquet behind her, and all the bachelorettes—except for Emma—spring for it. But Anna's throw is much stronger than expected and the bouquet goes far above their heads, aiming directly at Emma, and ends up in her hands after she instinctively catches it.

  Damn it.

  Emma holds it up, forcing a smile as the other ladies scream in excitement. She glances at Killian, who is laughing with Kristoff and drinking a glass of what she assumes is rum based on the color and what he'd ordered prior. Her eyes move to Anna who squeezes her into a hug.

  Next, a chair is placed in the center of the room and the single men are called to gather around as Anna sits down, grinning from ear to ear. Emma stands off to the side, her eyes dancing between Killian and the newlyweds. Suddenly she’s nervous again, her heart pounding erratically against her breastbone, and she forces herself to look away from him to give her attention to the bride and groom. 

  Kristoff gets on all fours and pushes back Anna's skirt, his hand moving up her leg before his head disappears under her dress. Anna is squealing and blushing profusely, the crowd erupting with giggles and chants of encouragement. In a quick motion, Kristoff is out from under her skirts, his teeth pulling the frilly white garter down her leg and over her heel. When he stands up, he slingshots the garter over his shoulder toward the bachelors, and while the men aren’t as enthusiastic as the ladies were, Hans springs for it.

  But when he misses it and falls to the floor, the man behind him—who of course happens to be Killian—lifts the garter into the air, grinning like an idiot as everyone cheers. His eyes find Emma’s through the crowd and he tosses her a wink as he twirls the garter belt around his finger. She responds with an eye roll and smiles at him, her cheeks warming with blush. 

  The next thing she knows, Emma is being prompted to sit on the chair as she holds onto the bouquet, and Killian still has that stupid grin on his face as he makes his way to her, holding up the garter belt. Emma bites her bottom lip, anticipation coiled in her gut. 

  The DJ plays Pour Some Sugar On Me as Killian circles around her like an animal circling its prey, eagerly awaiting its meal. When he’s behind her, he bends over to whisper in her ear. “I have to warn you, love, I’m a biter, too.”

  Emma gulps, quite certain she knows his meaning.

  Killian appears in front of her, and as he kneels on the floor, she extends her right foot to him, her heart suddenly pounding in her ear. She’s relieved when he uses his hands to pull it over her stiletto, and her skin tingles when she feels his fingertips on her ankle. Then he steals the air from her lungs when he gets on all fours, takes the lace of the garter between his teeth and starts dragging it up her leg with his mouth. Emma’s cheeks are on fire so she briefly buries her face in her hands, laughing in embarrassment as everyone whistles and screams and snaps photos. But the sounds and flashing lights are quickly drowned out because the man who’s moving up her leg with his lips and warm breath brushing her skin demands all of her attention.

  Fuck.

  She clenches her thighs together, trying not to envision his face in her lap for other reasons. He gets the garter belt past her knee, but then it gets snagged by her dress. So, with both hands, he pushes up the offending material and moves his face to the side of her outer thigh for a better angle, his hand brushing her other leg as he brings it back to the floor to use only his mouth again. She can’t imagine what this might look like to the guests. Well, she can, and she hopes the young ones aren’t watching. She can’t seem to take her eyes off Killian’s to check though. 

  The garter gets caught again, so he lifts her dress once more using his hands. His face inches closer to where she is definitely imagining him to be right now and with one final drag, he gets the garter where he wants it—mid-thigh—and backs away, taking all of his warmth and intoxicating scent with him. All the men are cheering for him, and he grins and blushes, his eyes locked with hers. 

  ~*~

  Killian hadn't meant to take it that far. When he caught the garter belt, he hadn’t planned on using his teeth—he was certainly envisioning it—but he knew it was definitely too much. If he weren’t working on the case and if she weren’t a suspect, and they were just two guests at the wedding, he would still be intrigued by her. He would still be attracted to her. And yes, then he wouldn’t have thought twice about using his teeth. Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. But when she sat in the chair, biting her bottom lip, her eyes glinting with anticipation as she gazed over at him, he almost lost himself and consequently threw all rational thinking out the window. 

  When he’d whispered in her ear, he’d seen her flush and heard her gasp. When he’d knelt down in front of her, he’d witnessed those luminous green eyes sparkle, those pupils dilate as she offered her foot to him. He could feel the heat radiating off of her. And he knew he wouldn’t be able to resist using his mouth to drag that dainty piece of lace up her leg. Every inch of her was so extremely sexy, even her unpainted toenails were sexy, he had to use all the willpower in him to not touch her. And when he accidentally grazed his hand over her leg after he’d pushed the skirt of her dress out of the way, his heart rate sped up. But somehow he’d managed to place the garter belt around her thigh without completely molesting her.

  The first part of his plan had been to crack open her shell, make her feel more comfortable with him, and now he’s afraid he’s screwed that up. And David of course was quick to point that out. While Emma was surrounded by her cousins and other females, probably commenting on Killian’s performance, David was pulling him outside and giving him an earful about how he should’ve let someone else catch the garter belt and how he definitely shouldn’t have used his mouth. David was so furious, Killian was sure he would send him back to Port Lavaca, but Killian assured him his behavior wouldn’t affect the second part of his plan. In fact, it would probably make it even more possible. David muttered a “You better hope so,” before storming back inside, pouting.

  Killian downs his fourth glass of apple juice as he gazes across the room, his eyes connecting with hers. She blushes and looks away as she’s chatting with Elsa. He’s pretty sure they’re talking about him if the way they keep glancing over his way is any indication. He would definitely put his money on it.

  ~*~

  “Okay, spill it, Emma. And don’t leave anything out,” Anna encourages with a big, toothy grin, her eyes glinting with intrigue.

  Emma's eyebrows furrow. “Spill what?” 

  “Don't play dumb with me, you know exactly what I’m talking about.” She looks across the room, and Emma follows her gaze, seeing Killian on the other end of it as he's drinking another glass of rum. 

  “You mean, Killian? What about him?”

  Anna sighs dramatically and looks like she's about to burst. 

  “Is it true, you two are a couple?”

  That question was from Elsa, who's just as eager as her sister to expunge the juicy details. Well, maybe not quite as eager, but still very interested.

  “No, of course not,” Emma answers, her eyes wide with shock. “We just met.”

  Anna’s eyebrows are knitted in confusion. “But my husband said Killian was your boyfriend.” Anna blushes and giggles. “Oh my God, it feels good to finally be able to call him that! My husband, I mean,” she clarifies, as though they didn’t already know who she meant. “But back to Killian, why did Hans yell at my husband for not telling him you were already taken?” 

  Emma frowns at the mention of that creep. “Oh that. Killian told him he was my boyfriend because he saw Hans making me uncomfortable. He was trying to save me from punching Hans in the face and ruining your wedding.”

  “Awwwww, that’s so sweet,” both cousins gush.

  “By the way, who invited Hans?” Emma demands sharply. “He invited me to his hotel room, and before that, I made it very clear I didn't even want to engage in conversation with him.”

  Anna’s eyes go wild. “He did what?!” she gasps. “Oh no, that is not okay. I told Kristoff we never should have invited him.” Fueled with anger, she spins around, lifts her skirts from the floor and marches over to Kristoff, who’s chatting with the groomsmen.

  “Anna, wait, I don’t want to make a big deal about it,” Emma calls after her, but her auburn-haired cousin ignores her and continues her trek. Emma sighs and turns to look at Elsa who’s always been the calm, rational one of the two sisters. At any rate, she can’t say she’d be sad to see Hans kicked out.

  “I’m so sorry about Hans. He’s such a creep,” Elsa comments before sipping her punch.

  Emma dismisses Elsa’s words with a wave of her hand. “It’s fine. I can handle myself.”  

  “I know you can.” A slow smirk pulls at her lips. “So tell me, what exactly is going on with you and Killian? And don’t you dare say 'nothing'. He just used his mouth to get the garter belt on you when he could’ve easily used his hands. And you were…”

  “I was what?” Emma asks, trying to contain the smile threatening her lips.

  “You were pretty into it,” she teases, swatting Emma's shoulder.

  Emma rolls her eyes. “Okay, maybe he's a little cute, but as I said, we just met. I know nothing about him, except that he’s cocky and a compulsive flirt.”

  Elsa nods in agreement. “You’re not wrong about that, he can be cocky but in a charming, boyish sort of way. And yes, he can be a bit of a flirt, but he’s mostly bark and no bite.” She laughs at her own remark. “Okay, well as we all saw, he is a little bit of a biter.” 

  Emma flushes at the comment and wonders if he’s a biter in the sack because she definitely wouldn’t mind it if he were. Not that she plans on getting him in the sack. Because she definitely doesn't. She snaps her eyes shut briefly, chastising herself for having those thoughts.

  “But don’t worry, I won’t badger you about him.”

  “Thank you,” Emma murmurs before imbibing her water. She thinks about it for a moment though. Elsa knows Killian pretty well, so this might be an opportunity to find out whether she's wasting her time on him or not. She wants to say she’s not even considering the possibility of dating him, or anyone for that matter, but Elsa can easily squash any or all of Emma’s musings about the man. “So, tell me…” Emma gnaws on her bottom lip, deciding on the right question.

  Based on Elsa's knowing smile, she seems to be onto her. “Yes?”

  “Is Killian a good guy? I mean honestly? You know I don’t date because I have my trust issues. So am I just wasting my time by lowering my guard around him or—”

  “He’s a great guy, Emma. I promise. I wouldn’t lie to you about that. I’ve spent some time with him, and we were pretty close before Liam died. He can be a little rough around the edges and hot-headed at times, but he’s honest, has a good heart and can be very sweet. We had a rough patch for a while but now I hope we can be close again. And I know it’s difficult for you to open up, Emma, but you can’t keep people out forever. Besides when is the last time you’ve gone on a date and just had some good old-fashioned fun? You work so damn much, I bet you can’t even remember.”

  Guilt rises in Emma’s cheeks, and she nods, considering Elsa’s words. “You’re right. It’s been far too long since I've been with a guy. But he hasn’t even asked me out. How do I know he’s even interested?” She already knows how ridiculous the question sounds when she asks it.

  Elsa lifts a brow that says, really, Emma? “With the way he was dancing with you, giving you those doe eyes and the way he put that garter belt on you, do you really need any more proof that he’s completely into you?”

  Emma sighs. “But how do I know he doesn't act like that around every woman he meets?” 

  “He doesn't, only with women he's interested in. And that's rare for him. He caught the garter at mine and Liam’s wedding, but he didn’t use his teeth, and the bachelorette was much more flirty than he is with you. It was more of an obligation for him then,” Elsa ends the statement with a smirk. “But with you, I could tell—hell everyone in the room could tell he was into you.”

  Emma laughs, her cheeks flooding with blush. “Okay, okay, I get your point. So... I should just ask him out then?”

  Elsa’s face lights up in excitement. “Yes, you should!”

  Emma inhales a deep breath, her heart pounding at the possibility of approaching him. She doesn’t really have a plan yet, but maybe it’s better to just wing it. No, on second thought, she has to have a plan. “Women can ask men out, right?”

  “Are you kidding? Yes, they can! Go for it, Em,” she chants encouragingly.

  Okay, here goes nothing. 

  Emma turns around and straightens her shoulders, determined to march over to Killian. Instead, she freezes, her eyes widening in surprise when he’s standing in front of her with a drink in his hand. His hair is carelessly disheveled, his eyes are a dull shade of blue and he’s still wearing his jacket, but his tie is hanging loosely around his neck and his dress shirt is halfway unbuttoned, allowing a patch of dark chest hair to poke out. He's obviously been drinking a little too much. But he still looks delicious.

  “Hi there, love,” he greets with a smirk, his words slurred. He stumbles forward and Emma grabs onto him and catches a whiff of him. Okay, he’s been drinking way too much.  

  Her eyes sting from the smell of rum as she helps over to the nearest chair. “Easy tiger, I think you’ve had too much to drink.” As she helps him sit in the chair, she glances at Elsa, her cousin’s features donning a mixture of concern and apology.

  “He doesn’t normally drink this much.”

  Emma looks around, seeing the kids on the other side of the room playing and running around. 

  “We should probably get him home. I don’t want Camila or his nephews to see him like this,” Elsa says in a worried tone.

  “I’m fine, really.” Killian lazily waves off her words and tries to stand, but almost falls over again before Elsa and Emma catch him. 

  “I guess I should take him home. Will you watch Camila while I’m gone?” Elsa asks her.

  “Why don’t I just take him?” Emma suggests. “You should stay and spend time with your sister before she goes off on her honeymoon.”

  “But you don’t have your car with you,” Elsa points out.

  “Did he drive here himself?”

  “Yeah, he came in his truck.” 

  “Okay, so I can just drive him home in his vehicle and catch an Uber home. Where’s he staying?”

  Elsa shakes her head. “I’m not sure. A motel I think.”

  Emma kneels in front of him like she’s speaking to a child. “Where are you staying, Killian?” 

  “Wherever you want me to stay,” he drawls with a cheeky grin.

  Emma rolls her eyes and reaches into the inside of his suit jacket, searching for his wallet.

  He smirks. “If you wanted to feel me up, all you had to do was ask.”

  Emma can’t help but blush, his face inches from hers as she grabs his wallet. God, he’s wasted. Rifling through his wallet, she finds a key card from Pinn Road Inn, which is on the other side of town.

  She informs Ingrid what’s going on, and after she hugs the newlyweds and wishes them a fantastic honeymoon, she and Elsa help Killian to his truck and buckle him up in the passenger seat. Elsa apologizes profusely as though she’s responsible for her brother-in-law, but Emma waves off her words and hugs her goodbye. She promises to have lunch with her and Anna after the honeymoon and climbs into the truck.

  The drive to the motel is mostly silent until Killian suddenly starts cursing like a sailor. She looks over to see him pulling at a thread that's hanging from the cuff of his jacket.

  “Don’t pull at it, you’ll ruin the jacket,” Emma warns, returning her eyes to the road. “Just take it back to the haberdashery you got it from.”

   “Royal tuxedos, my arse. More like royal crap,” he bleats, reclining in his seat to reach into his pants pocket. 

  Too late.

  Glancing over at him, she sees him using a Stanely knife to cut off the string. Her eyes widen in horror. “Don't do that, you'll—” 

  Killian’s groaning in pain, his left hand is covered in blood and the blood is dripping all over his suit.

  “...cut yourself,” she finishes with a sigh.

A/N: So you probably have a lot of questions about what exactly is up Killian's sleeve, but I promise that will be covered in the next chapter. And yes, I couldn't make either Emma or Killian a doctor without injuring the other one at least once and having some doctor/patient scenes. I promise Killian will be in good hands though :-)

@itsfabianadocarmo @snowbellewells @ilovemesomekillianjones @nikkiemms @teamhook @xhookswenchx @xsajx @julesep3026​ @hookedmom​ @biefaless​ @cluttermind​ @yasbio2015​ @kmomof4​ @lfh1226-linda​ @harshini01 @noensnaringnet​ @xarandomdreamx @onceuponaprincessworld​ @annastasiarinaldiva​ @royalswan​ @brustudyblog​ @officerrogers​ @gingerchangeling​ @melly326​ @singersdd @mzbossyboots​ @unworried-corsair​ @iamemmaswanjones​ @authorarsinoe​ @kingofmyheart14​ @nightskylover​ @jamif​ @resident-of-storybrooke​ @iam2307​ @winterbaby89​ @chinawoodfan​ @mormonkryptonite @ultraluckycatnd​ @captainswan-shipper88​ @killianswanjones @bethdacattfm @andiirivera​

[ubernoxa]

The Token: A Guns N’ Roses FanFiction

Chapter 11: Rhythm Guys Do It Better

Story Summary: Story inspired by the movie She’s the Man. A female Duff is tired of dealing with the bullshit of trying to make it on the strip as a female bassist. In a desperate attempt to make it big doing what she does, she cuts her hair and mascardes as Duff. What’s the wors that could happen?

Chapter Summary: Chapter title pretty much explains what’s gonna happen 🤷🏼‍♀️

Masterlist

Taglist: @viralwolf02 @littlemisscare-all @smokeandmirrorz @aratbaby @slashscowboyboots @achiweyow @queen-crue

I could still feel my cheeks blushing as I waved goodbye to Izzy as he dropped me off in front of my apartment.

“Welcome back Mich-Duff,” I practically froze at Macy’s words.

At first I wondered why she corrected herself, but once I stepped into the living room, finally able to see into the kitchen, I knew why.

“Duff, nice to meet you! My names Henry,” I offered Henry a quick wave, but I froze before I headed towards my (Michelle’s) bedroom.

Henry was one of Walter’s childhood best friends. Henry had met Michelle on countless occasions. He has been to this apartment before several times. He knew which door lead to Michelle’s room.

I was fucked.

Macy must have noticed my predicament when she handed me a grocery bag filled with god knows what.

“Duff, can you bring this to Michelle’s room? It’s some clothes I was going to donate, but if they fit her then she can have them,” I simply nodded before grabbing the bag and heading to ‘Michelle’s’ bedroom.

I let a sigh escape me once I was inside.

I put my bass and the bag Macy gave me on my bed before I quickly changed out of my clothing from the night before.

Originally I was going to wear a simple shorts and tank top because of the burning weather outside, but Izzy’s antics last night made that impossible. I unknowing let a soft moan escape my lips as I traced one of the many hickies that Izzy left from the night prior.

As I stared at myself I felt my hand slowly reach for my lips, all thoughts of how truly fucked I was with Henry being in the apartment had completely evaporated.

The only thing on my mind was last night.

How my heart raced at the look Izzy gave me when he realized that Slash had passed out for the night. The feeling of his lips on mine, the thought of him holding me down as he throbbed inside of me.

I was pulled from my thoughts as I heard a knock on the door.

“Hey, can I come in?”

“Yeah,” I quickly replied at the sound of Macy’s voice.

Before she could open the door, I wrapped myself with a blanket that was on my bed. Not to hide the face I was naked, but to hide the hickies that scattered my body. As roommates we had seen echo their naked undress of times, it was almost normal.

“What are you......” she froze as her eyes remained locked on me. I watched as a smirk formed on her face.

“Ohh my god!” She gasped as she took in the purple hickies that stained my skin.

“Shhh shhh,” I tried to hush her, but I wasn’t entirely successful.

“Who?” She immediately shot back.

“Just some guy...” I trailed off before digging through my dresser trying to find a scarf to cover my neck. I wouldn’t have guessed Izzy would have been so...territorial. I could tell that it turned him on as much as he turned me on as he painted my empty canvas of a body with splashes of purple.

“No, I know you Michelle. You wouldn’t do it with just a anyone...who?” Macy shot back even faster. She was giddy as a school girl as she talked.

“Izzy, I fucked Izzy last night,” I felt a smile plaster on my face as I finished getting ready.

She gasped at my comment as I looked at myself in the mirror. The scarf and long sleeves weren’t ideal for the summer heat, but that was Izzy’s fault. I was going to make sure I got even.

“You didn’t!” She seemed more shocked the second time I told her. Yes I fucked Izzy Stradlin.

“But I thought you hated him!” She immediately shot back.

“It’s more of his Indiana brother..Axl,” I replied back. Now that I thought about it, I really didn’t hate Axl.

“Ohhh God Michelle, you’ve got yourself into a pickle,” Macy teased, our laughter erupting and filling the room.

“Yes Macy...fucking my bandmate is my problem....not the fact that I’m dressing up as a guy to perform at gigs and lying to half my band,” our laughter only grew after I whispered that right back to her.

After a couple of seconds our laughter died down and Macy said, “Wait...WHOAH WHOAH WHOAH”

“What?”

“Who else knows?” She quickly asked.

“Knows what?” I quickly shot back.

“Who else in the band knows? Axl? Ohh my god how are you still standing? I assumed Axl would either kick you out of the band or kill you? How are you not dead?”

“No, it’s not Axl who knows...it’s Slash,” I sighed and leaned back on my bed. I tried not to think about how Axl would react. I agreed with her, Axl would kick me out of the band. I might as enjoyed it while it lasts.

“And...how did he react...”

“He seemed...confused....and annoyed....and mad,” I admitted feeling like trash for lying to Slash.

“And ...how are you guys now?” I wished Macy would stop digging and asking questions. The thing is, I couldn’t blame her. I would be doing the same if I was in her position.

“I...I think we are okay? He seemed pissed, but then his snake seemed to like me...so....I guess he warmed up to me,” I mumbled as I fidgeted with my thumbs.

“His snake?” I looked up at Macy and by the expression on her face I knew her head was in the gutter.

“His pet snake, not his dick...Jesus Christ get you head out of the gutter,” I scolded her throwing the bag she gave me earlier in her face.

“Ohh ok ok,” Macy put her hands up in defense with a smile still on her face.

I jokingly groaned before lying back down on the bed.

“By the way...put this on,” Macy tossed the plastic bag towards me, and I immediate opened it to find a bright blue wig.

“Thought you could use a new wig. Sorry it’s not brown...blue was all I could get on such short notice,” Macy shrugged.

“I’ll look ridiculous in it....” I softly replied.

“Nah...you can pull it off. It’ll look punk-ish. Come on now....we gotta get moving. Walter and Henry want to go to the music shop around the corner, and I’m not going without you. Also if anyone asks, Duff is passed out on your bed,” Macy said before she hurried out of my room.

To be honest, I would give the wig a solid 9 out of 10. It was far less itchy than the old one I had which I now assumed to be in some junkyard amongst other trash. Don’t tell Macy, but she was right, it did look pretty punk. It only took me a couple of minutes to realize what was actually going on, and why Macy made sure to have me come.

It was awkward to say the least. Something was going on between Macy and Walter, and I wondered if this was originally supposed to be some sort of double date. It wouldn’t have been the first time Walter had hit on Macy, but it would have been the first time he asked her out. By the way she quickly joined me in the back seat, I had a feeling her answer was something along the lines of ‘No Walter I don’t want to date you’.

I was able to ditch the awkwardness once we arrived to the shop. Saying it was massive was an understatement. It was without a doubt the biggest on the strip. It was two stories tall and not only did it sell instruments, it sold sheet music and records as well. It was heaven.

I wandered the store aimlessly, thankful to be alone. I had somehow found a way into the bass section where I admired the basses that I couldn’t even dream of buying. This is where the greats bought their equipment, and sadly they were at a not so great price. Four months rent was a little steep for a bass right now, and that wasn’t even the most expensive one.

“Walter was saying you played bass...I thought you were a drummer?” I was once again pulled from my thoughts as the unwanted voice began to start a conversation with me. An unwanted conversation, if I may add.

“Yes to both...I also play guitar too,” I added once again sending a small smile back to Henry. I felt a smile escape my lips as I watched him inspect the bass guitars. He then spent the next couple minutes talking about his favorite bassists. This definitely caught me off guard. I didn’t take him for a music guy! Maybe this wouldn’t be too awkward. If only he stopped trying to flirt and touch my lower back.

He motioned for me to show him. I took one of the basses from the bottom row (aka the cheapest) and began to play a short melody from the first song that came to my head. He didn’t seem impressed, but I didn’t care. I continued to strum as I felt the music flow through my veins and hit my heart. I was a snake charmer, but instead of charming snakes it was my own heart.

“Do you mainly play pop music?” I rolled my eyes and turned towards him. Did he seriously assume pop while I live near sunset strip.

“No rock,” I probably sounded a bit snappy, but really pop music?

I felt my heart stop as I heard a familiar voice in the shop. Steven was here, which meant the rest of the band would be here as well.

Fuck.

Atleast I would be safe in the bass guitar section, none of them played bass...at least I don’t think any of them did.

“Hey...Michelle?,” I turned to see Steven standing by me. Fuck...part of me was hoping that the blue hair would help me stay incognito, but I was very wrong. If anything it did the opposite.

“Hey,” I froze for a second. Did Michelle know Steven? I racked my brain for a couple of second. Fuck.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I decided to play it safe and pretend I didn’t know him. Better safe than sorry.

“Steven! I’m the drummer in Duff’s band,” His smile faded, but never disappeared.

“Congrats on your show last night I heard it was amazing!” I cheered back. This felt weird, no it felt wrong. I could feel my heart exploding out of my chest as I spoke to him. What if he recognized me? He was literally standing a foot away from me. The one thing I couldn’t change, no matter how much makeup I put on was my face was my face, and he was only a foot or two way from me.

“Yeah it was pretty insane! It felt like we were professionals, we had dancers and everything. You should come to our next gig! You’d love it! The after party was good too!”

“Duff came back this morning...I think he is still passed out back at the apartment,” I laughed back trying to find anything to say.

“Where have you been? I haven’t seen you in ages? Any chance you could give Duff some more of your coffee? The caffeine makes the band meetings so much more sufferable! Especially during those morning meetings when Axl rambles on and on,” I plastered on a fake smile and nodded along.

Fuck fuck fuck.

FUCK

“I’ve been here and there....I ran into some family problems at the coffee shop, so I don’t work there anymore,” I shrugged trying to play it cool. I wasn’t entirely lying. Betsie storming in and beating me up definitely cause family problems...I just didn’t get fired for that reason. I watched as his smile faded.

“Is that why you...” he gestured towards my hair, and I nodded.

“Why not? If it ended up bad, Macy would fix it,” I shrugged.

“I like it! Looks good. Perks of having a hairstylist as a roommate,” he replied and I nodded back.

“Hey, I’m Henry,” I looked over towards Henry who I completely forgot was here. I felt is arm tightly wrap around my waist as he pulled me in closer towards him. I was immediately frozen in place, trying to understand what was going on.

Why was he being possessive?

“You guys....dating?”

Before Steven could continue talking, I pushed myself out of his grip and responded, “no, he is JUST a friend of Walter’s”

I watched as Mark clenched his jaw at my comment.

“Izz, hey look who I found! Our favorite barista, back from the dead,” I couldn’t help but smile at his kind words.

I felt my cheeks redden the moment I saw Izzy. He looked so damn hot without an ounce of effort. He could be wearing dirty sweatpants and I would still think he was hot.

“Well...she is no longer a barista....” Steven trailed off, sending me an apologetic look.

“So what, you quit your job as a barista to live out your dream of being a blueberry,” Izzy’s laughter filled the room as he spoke. I wouldn’t lie, I was hiding a laugh.

“Hey, it’s punk okay,” I shrugged back.

“Is it also punk to wear a scarf and pants on one of the hottest days in the summer,” he teased back. He damn knew why I I had to wear this. He knew I had to hide the marks he made while I begged for him to fuck me.

“You know what...you’re right this outfit is not very punk of me,” I sassed back taking off the scarf and shirt. Leaving me standing in a thin camisole and skin tight pants, hickies in full display. I stood still with a large smirk plastered across my face.

“So Henry, do you play?” Steven asked trying to break the tension that had filled the room.

“Yeah, I play guitar. You?”

“Drummer, in a band?”

Before Henry could reply Izzy asked, “Are you a soloist or more of a rhythm guy?”

“Soloist! And no I’m not in a band, but I’m working on it”

I sent Izzy a confused look, only to receive a smirk on return. What the fuck was he thinking about?

I quickly tuned out Steven’s and Henry’s conversation, and paid attention to Izzy who was making me melt just by looking at me.

“Actually, Shelly...I have a quick guitar question, got a sec?” I nodded and followed Izzy towards the guitar section.

From behind me I heard Steven say, “We should stay behind, I have a feeling they are going to be doing a little more than talking about guitars. I don’t feel like watching what they are about to do,”

Before I knew it, Izzy pulled me into the bathroom and immediately locked the door behind him. In one quick motion he pinned me against the wall and I heard my clothes drop to the floor.

“Really Shelly? A soloist? We all know rhythm guys do it better in bed,” Izzy grunted into my ear earning soft uncontrollable moans to escape from my lips.

I wanted to make a snarky reply, but I couldn’t think of anything. My mind could only focus on one thing.

He was right.

Holy shit, he was fucking right.

Rhythm guys do it better.

[gingrrfrog]

these nights (6)

word count: 4.5k :] 

warnings: smut

summary: jaemin giving her the silent treatment wasn’t unheard of, so she wasn’t surprised to hear him moving around in the house without greeting her home. the only issue was jaemin wasn’t home yet and the house was supposed to be empty.

a/n: you guys are so nice leaving me messages that you like my writing, it means a lot to me :] I write these to destress from school so seeing that u guys like them are really nice to see :D 

Yejin sighed heavily as the scratchy fabric of her apartment lobby couches began to scratch at her arm. She wondered how long she could stay down here with Jaemin or the neighbors coming to find her. It wouldn’t be long until an older woman came up to her and asked her why she was sitting down, and the odds of her seeing Jaemin and snitching out her location are extremely likely. Old people never mind their business, much less in the middle of Seoul. Jihyun had just dropped her off at home after a tour of their new home and a tour of the nursery she and Jaehyun were building. After the short tour, Yejin agreed to help build a small bookcase for the books they had bought a few days prior and helped organize whatever was left. She didn’t mind the busywork, it helped her take her mind off things—but when she came back to her apartment, she was jolted back to harsh reality.

The reality being one of her boyfriends is in the hospital and the other one is just a plain dick. Yejin groaned loudly in her hands, she had looked at the time and noticed that Jaemin would be asking questions if she didn’t come home soon, regardless if they were still mad at each other or not. She sighed heavily and pulled herself off the couch, dragging her feet towards the elevator and watching as the numbers speedily made its way to ground floor. She snorted to herself, of course the elevator would be fast here, right now, of all times to be speedy quick.

She stepped to the side to let a few people out, smiling at them before stepping inside herself. She leaned against the beam and watched the numbers rise this time, up to the tenth floor where she stood staring up at herself on the mirror on the ceiling. When her floor dinged and the doors opened, she stepped outside with a sigh, continuing to slowly walk towards her front door, punching in the keypad and kicking her shoes off at the door. She heard shuffling within the kitchen and frowned, knowing that Jaemin was home. She started to think of what to say, or rather if she would say anything at all, knowing that Jaemin was also an expert at giving the silent treatment himself. Yejin supposed it all depended on what level of anger he was at.

However, when Yejin approached the kitchen, no one was inside. The light was off, and she felt her skin crawl. She pretended that there was nothing wrong with the scene she just saw before she continued to walk towards her room, desperately trying to avoid the sound of what seemed like a boot against carpet not that far from her. She took a deep breath quietly, her hands trembling as she closed the door behind her, locking it instantly before she heard something fall and shatter outside. Her breathing quickly gathered its pace as she ran towards the closet, closing that door behind her as well as she moved the hidden panel out of the way, punching the key code and grabbing the nearest handgun, quickly loading it despite the magazine falling from her shaky fingers twice.

Hidden behind Jeno’s coats, she clenched her eyes at the sound of the door jiggling from the other side. She heard the door click and footsteps approaching, passing by the closet Yejin poked the gun out from Jeno’s jacket. The door opened suddenly as Yejin shot without question, a curse falling from Jaemin’s mouth before he grabbed the gun and yanked her out.

“Who the fuck—Yejin?! What are you doing? You could’ve blown my fucking brains out!”

She let go of the gun immediately, pushing Jaemin to the side before looking around the house. She noticed that the front door was open, as well the kitchen light was now on to reveal most of their china on the ground, shattered. She stared at the scene intently, noticing the kitchen cabinets were all opened except one, the one where Jaemin kept a safe hidden within their dishes. Had it not been for the timing, they probably would’ve found what they were looking for, that is to assume that they were looking for something in the first place.

“What’s going on, why did you grab a gun—?” Jaemin walked into the kitchen with his eyebrows furrowed together, instantly noticing the broken dishes on the ground.

“Someone was here,” Yejin said quietly. “I thought it was you, so I ignored it. Did you just get here?”

“Yeah. The door was open, did you leave it open?”

Yejin shook her head, “I closed it.”

Jaemin took a deep breath before he carefully stepped over broken glass to the kitchen cabinet. With great care, he pushed aside dishes and pulled the wooden panel off the wall, revealing yet another keypad where he gently pressed another combination of numbers. The keypad beeped, indicating a correct passcode as he took inventory inside. From what Yejin could tell, nothing seemed to be missing nor tampered with as Jaemin sighed in relief and closed said safe before snapping the panel back in place.

Jaemin sat on the kitchen counter, staring at the mess on the ground before looking at Yejin, “are you okay?”

Yejin nodded.

“I’ll clean this up, you can go ahead and go, if you want,” Jaemin said softly.

“I’ll help you,” Yejin said softly, crouching down and taking the bigger pieces of glass into her hands while Jaemin grabbed a wet towel to grab the small bits of glass. She watched as Jaemin threw the towel in the garbage next, dismissing herself as she made her way towards their bathroom once again.

She wanted to take a shower, but she couldn’t help but to feel unsafe. It was natural, of course, that she would feel paranoid after her house got broken in to, but there was no way of getting any comfort considering the tense atmosphere between her and the one supposed to give her comfort. Scrounging up whatever bravery she had left, she pulled her towel and placed it on the sink, quickly undressing and jumping into the shower to take a very short and relatively cold shower. She didn’t even want to dry her hair, too afraid that she would miss something due to the hairdryer being so loud.

In the end, she opted to towel dry her hair gently enough to not damage it, happy with the damp result before she outside to her bed. She pulled her knees to her chest, her chin resting on top of them as she watched Jaemin take stock everything in the room. Nothing was taken, as far as he could tell, which led Jaemin to sit next to her, his hands on his thighs as he tapped a choppy rhythm on them.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” He asked gently.

“I’m not too sure what I should be feeling,” she replied, barely above a whisper. Her hand itched to reach for his, but it seemed so far away.

Jaemin nodded, playing with a ring on his finger before looking back up, “did you have fun with Jihyun noona at least?”

Yejin narrowed her eyes, “what are you doing?”

“What do you mean, what am I doing? I’m asking you about your day,” Jaemin snipped in return. “Is that illegal? Am I not allowed to ask you how your fucking day went?”

“You know how my fucking day went, Jaemin— “

“Christ in heaven, how long are you going to hold on to this? Are you finished yet, Yejin?”

Yejin rolled her eye this time, getting under the sheets and throwing the comforter over her head before she rolled under a ball. She heard Jaemin curse once more before she felt his weight leave the bed, walking towards the bathroom himself as he slammed it behind him. Yejin flinched at the sound. In her defense, how was she supposed to feel after finding out that 1. Her boyfriend is injured, 2. Her boyfriends lied about a sibling, and 3. Her home had been broken into?

Had it not been for her crying most of the day already, she definitely would’ve done so again but the anger she felt towards Jaemin today was enough to make her seethe and her blood boil, so much so that she had to throw the blankets off of her from how hotheaded she felt. It’s during arguments like these that she begins to wonder if she made a mistake accepting Jaemin’s feelings as well—she began to wonder how compatible they really were. If it weren’t for Jeno, would they click at all? Or, would they just be strangers with little to no connection?

She closed her eyes instantly when she suddenly felt the other side of the bed dip, signaling that Jaemin had finished his shower and his cool-down, laying down much too close considering their current predicament.

“Are you asleep?”

Along with her eyes, her mouth was sealed shut. She heard Jaemin sigh, his fingertips running down her arm before she felt his forehead on her shoulder.

“I don’t know if you’re asleep if it you’re ignoring me. Both are fine, I guess, I understand. Either way, I’m still going to talk to you, so if you’re awake, keep ignoring me,” Jaemin shuffled closer so that his arms were wrapped around her waist. Yejin remained stiff. “If you’re asleep, I guess this is good practice for tomorrow.”

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “You’re right, I am an asshole, I’m spoiled, I’m selfish and I have no way of relieving any of my emotions in a healthy way. I was never mad at you, I think I was mad at my brother…but now that I think about it, I think I was mad at myself for not being able to protect Jeno better.”

“I didn’t mean to get snippy when you mentioned Jieun noona, either. Any other day, maybe I would’ve slipped some information towards you without Jeno knowing, but I was in such a shitty headspace that I thought you were taking advantage of Jeno being asleep to ask me something personal.”

“You’re also right about lying. I did lie to you; it was all me. I could’ve told you about Jieun noona at any time, but I thought the best way to help Jeno cope with grieving was to never talk about it again, so, when he came back with you I told Jaehyun hyung and Johnny hyung…basically anybody to never tell you, because I didn’t think you’d understand.”

“Maybe you do, maybe you don’t, but it was an overprotective measure I put up when I was nineteen. I’m overprotective towards Jeno sometimes. I thought it was my job to take care of him when Jieun noona died, but I forget that you love him and that you want to protect him too. I’ve…just been selfish this entire time.”

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for lashing out at you, I’m sorry for lying about Jieun noona, I’m sorry for being possessive, territorial, all the synonyms for an asshole,” Jaemin took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for not bringing Jeno home safe, I’m so sorry, baby.”

Yejin’s body softened as Jaemin continued to pull her close, “I’m sorry.”

Yejin stirred. She turned to face him as Jaemin instantly pressed his face in her chest, sighing a breath of relief.

“I’m sorry too,” She whispered, her fingers threading in his hair.

“You don’t have to be sorry about anything, Yejin. It’s my fault.”

Yejin shook her head, “I should’ve never asked about Jeno’s sister, you kept it from me for a reason— “

“—a stupid reason. A reason I made up when I was nineteen.”

“Either way, Jaemin. You don’t have to be sorry for Jeno being hurt, that was not your fault either. Just like you told me, there was no way you could’ve stopped that.”

“There was no way you could’ve stopped it. There were three million ways I could’ve stopped it, I could’ve looked further into it, I should’ve answered the phone faster, I should’ve— “

“You should’ve told me what you were feeling this whole time,” Yejin interrupted. “You’ve been dealing with that burden this entire time?”

“It’s not a burden, it’s my responsibility.”

“Does Jeno know that?”

“No.”

“Baby, how would Jeno feel if he found out you felt this way?” Yejin asked, punctuation her question with a gentle slap to his cheeks, pulling his face up as she watched him frown. “Or that, you were doing all these things to make sure he was safe?”

“He’d probably laugh at me,” Jaemin mumbled.

“He wouldn’t laugh, Jaemin. He’d feel guilty. He doesn’t want you constantly worrying about him like that. Not to mention, it’s not healthy to put that much responsibility on yourself either considering you have so many other engagements as well.”

“I know.”

“I don’t think you do, sweetheart,” Yejin mumbled. “How would you feel if, I, constantly worried about you?”

“You don’t have to worry about me though.”

“Jaemin, I worry about you constantly. We talked about this.” Yejin bemoaned. “I tear my nails off daily thinking about what you’re doing or what trouble you could get into. Just last night, I heard you brother telling you to move. Baby, I had a panic attack.”

Jaemin slouched further the more he saw the point she was putting across, “but, I was fine— “

“But I didn’t know that, Jaemin,” Yejin’s throat began to burn. Just as she thought that she was finish crying, she could feel fear rise in her throat, “I didn’t—I didn’t know if you were okay or if someone was in the house or if you were going to get shot, Jaemin I was terrified that I was going to lose you—“

She took a few steadying deep breaths before Jaemin pressed his forehead against hers, the tip of his nose rubbing against hers before he hugged her tightly. Yejin quickly swiped droplets from her eyes before she snuggled in the crook of his neck.

“You’re scared of losing me? Even if I’m territorial, selfish and spoiled?”

“Of course, I am,” she sniffled. “I love you.”

Jaemin couldn’t help but to smile at her confession, pulling her head back as she watched with a stuffy nose his unprecedented reaction.

“Do you see what I’m getting at now?”

Jaemin nodded, “I do. I’ll try to better, not just for Jeno, but for you too. Because I love you more than you could ever love me.”

“Liar,” Yejin cracked a small smile.

“I don’t think so?” He hummed, pressing kisses to her cheeks.  

Yejin relaxed in his hold as she leaned for a kiss, feeling his hands rest at her hips before he rubbed the small of his back, “are we okay now?”

Jaemin nodded, “we’re okay. I’m so—”

“If you say you’re sorry one more time, I’ll kill you,” Yejin smiled. Her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer before hooking her leg over his hip.

“Fine. Are you okay?”

“I’m fine, Jaem. A little shaken, a little scared, but I feel okay when I’m with you.”

Jaemin captured her lips for another kiss before pressing kisses down her chin, “I called Jaehyun hyung, about what happened. He said he’d look into it.”

Yejin hummed, tilting her head back while Jaemin nipped at her neck, “yeah?”

Jaemin pulled away quickly, looking down at Yejin who now had a confused look on her face, “are we going to have sex?”

Yejin gave him an incredulous look before bursting out a laugh, “I think so? Do you want to have sex?”

“I always want to have sex.”

“Come here then,” she smiled, beckoning him close before they reattached their lips with fervor. They pulled away for only a moment, long enough for the two of them to remove their shirts before they continued to explore the other’s mouth.

Yejin mewled at Jaemin’s lips pressing sloppy kisses to her neck and down her collarbones, not long before taking a nipple in between his lips and pulling gently with his teeth. She bit her bottom lip, palming Jaemin’s hardening length through his pajama pants.

“When’s the last time we had sex?”

“Saturday?” Jaemin replied, his mouth moving further down her stomach before pulling her pants down her legs. He bit at the expense of her thighs before kissing around her center, ignoring the bit that wanted most attention.

“No, the last time you and I had sex. Just the two of us.”

Jaemin licked a stripe from hole to clit, humming in content when he saw her thigh shake, “a while now, I think?”

Jaemin fully delved into her wet pussy, messily drinking up her essence while his tongue pushed through the tight of her walls. Yejin whimpered, Jaemin holding her thighs down in order to get to every sensitive spot.

“So wet,” Jaemin moaned into her, “so sweet.”

“Yeah? You like it, baby?”

“Fuck, I love it— “Jaemin pulled away, stretching back up to kiss her sloppily before laying on his back. “Sit on my face, Angel?”

Yejin grinned. She took a hold of the headboard and hovered over his face, sighing at the pecks and kisses he would leave before pulling her down on his face completely.

Yejin loved when Jaemin ate her out the most. She wouldn’t tell Jeno this ever, but whenever Jaemin lapped at her pussy she would see stars, clenching around his tongue or fingers as she dripped on his face. Seeing him after was always the best part, his mouth and the tip of his nose shiny, a certificate of his hard work.

Yejin threw her head back when she felt Jaemin shove a few fingers inside her, curling them instantly and grinning against her at her moans. He was relentless as he was gentle, making sure she was shaking on top him before he continued with anything else.

“Jaem—, oh god, fuck— “she cried out, her thighs shaking as Jaemin sucked on her clit a few more times for good measure before Yejin pushed his head away.

With a few more kisses to her thighs, she was thrown on to her back, giving a sultry smile before Jaemin kissed her once again.

“Gonna fuck me, Jaemin?” She asked against his lips, smiling at his moan, “gonna fuck me with your big cock, baby?”

Jaemin pulled away with narrowed eyes, pulling his pajama pants off to reveal his hardened length, the tip a deep red with just the slightest bit of precum dripping from the tip. Yejin subconsciously licked her lips, how she would love to have Jaemin fuck her throat until it was sore. She almost asked, but had it not been for the tough grip on her hips, she knew he had other plans.

He shuddered when he pressed the tip inside, his hand at either side of her face with his eyes closed tightly together. Yejin grinned, tightening around him and listening to his groan.

“Fuck, don’t do that.”

“Hurry up,” she pouted.

Jaemin’s head dropped when he finally thrusted the rest of his length inside, sighing at Yejin’s whimper.

“Fuck, Yejin, I ate you out, I fingered you, and you’re still a tight little cunt around my cock.”

“I live to serve,” she mumbled, laughing breathlessly at the roll of his eyes.

Jaemin pulled out completely, moaning at the soft squelch before shoving himself into the hilt without warning. Soon after, he found a steady rhythm, his hands finding purchase on her breasts and on her stomach, where he watched his bulge hit against his hands.

“So pretty, baby.” Jaemin moaned, his hips snapping up as he quickened his speed, grinning at her disheveled appearance. “You like the way I’m fucking you, Angel? You like that?”

“Fuck, Jaemin, I love it,” she cried, her thighs fastening around his waist. “Harder, Jaem, please— “

“You can’t take, harder, baby. You couldn’t take it if you tried,” he grunted, slapping against her anyway despite his words. He pushed her legs up to her chest, abusing her hole and shuddering at her moans.

“So fucking tight,” he praised. “So pretty, my sweet girl, my little Angel taking my cock so well.”

Yejin whimpered, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as blood ran faster through her body. “Your good girl, I’m yours, Jaemin.”

Jaemin changed his angle just slightly, watching with wide eyes as Yejin jolted at the sudden abuse to her g-spot.

“Right there, baby. Fuck, right there, Jaemin!”

“Did I find your spot?” Jaemin grinned, “gonna squirt again baby? I can’t say I wasn’t jealous when you squirted all over Jeno the other day.”

Yejin would be lying if she didn’t feel the need in her lower abdomen. She clawed at his back, bringing their sweaty chests together as Yejin bit at Jaemin’s shoulder.

“Shit, Yejin,” Jaemin groaned. “Gonna cum, baby. Gonna fill your little hole full of cum, you want it?”

“I need it,” she begged. She was seconds from her orgasm, her legs tightening around his waist as she felt her stomach jump in excitement. “Cum, Jaemin, cum inside me, baby. Fill me up— “

Just then, after a perfectly angle strike to her g-spot, Yejin just barely cried out, her orgasm bubbling from her toes all the way to the tips of her fingers as she trembled and squirted against Jaemin’s cock, listening to his curses and shameless moans as he fucked into her so hard the bed threatened to break at how hard it creaked.

He pulled back to watch the scene, his cock twitching as he released and cum spilled out, Yejin’s tight pussy clenching around him and causing more sensitivity than he thought. He just barely managed to pull out, hissing at the cold air hitting his cock and watching in amazement at her pussy pulsating and pushing out both her own and Jaemin’s cum.

Jaemin kissed her hip before taking his finger and pushing their cum back inside her, biting his lip at the lewd wet sounds she was making. Jaemin looked back at Yejin, her eyes still closed as she tried to catch her breath. Jaemin smiled, pulling her in for a kiss while his hands kneaded at her ass.

“You fucking animal,” she scolded, still a bit breathless. Jaemin grinned and pushed her sweaty hair off her forehead before pressing a kiss there too.

“Did you like it?”

“Fuck off,” she hummed. She looked at the time and noticed it was still relatively early, only 11:30 as about 45 minutes had passed. She pushed Jaemin off of her before she noticed Jaemin barely had any marks on him save the few she managed in his collar bone.

Yejin continued kissing down his chest, biting in marks down until she got to his own hip, resting against it with his soft cock resting against her stomach.

“Leave it alone,” Jaemin warned.

“I’m not doing anything,” she replied innocently. She pressed a kiss into said hip bone before continuing on to her journey, stopping at his balls and watching him as she licked a long stripe from the bottom of his ball sack to the beginnings of his cock. Jaemin groaned, threading his fingers through her hair.

“I said leave it alone,” he whined, knowing that Yejin very well noticed his cock beginning to twitch to life.

“You said leave your dick alone, you never said anything about these,” she explained. Her mouth enclosed on the sack, sucking feverishly as she watched with pride at the sight of Jaemin’s dick twitching back to life.

“And I’m the animal?”

“It’s still early,” she tried, pushing open mouth kisses down the length of his cock. “You don’t want to?”

Jaemin groaned, pulling her by the hair, not being able to resist her charm any longer, “come here, baby.”

Yejin shook her head, “no. I want you to fuck my throat.”

Jaemin laughed breathlessly, almost in amazement as he watched her eyes burn with determination, “you’re fucking insane. I love you so fucking much—“

\\

Yejin only woke up because her felt a tickle in the back of throat. She cleared her throat in her sleep, groaning before she turns in the blanket that was haphazardly thrown on top of her. She lifted herself up using the little strength she had in her arms before she blinked at the cloudy morning.

“Oh, fuck,” she croaked, rubbing her eyes and noticing that it was 2 o’clock. Hardly morning anymore.

She scratched her head and looked over at Jaemin, who was star-fished across their bed and sleeping soundly with the same blanket barely draped over his abdomen. She smiled, leaning over to his forehead, laughing at him groaning before she walked over to take a shower. Long enough to just cleanse off last night’s activities, she stepped outside after ten minutes, getting dressed swiftly and watching Jaemin sleep soundly.

Yejin climbed on top of him, hovering over him with a smile and admiring the marks she left behind the last night as she pressed soft kisses on to them, feeling Jaemin stir once she reached his tummy.

“No,” Jaemin tutted, the same tone a parent would use whenever their child got into something they shouldn’t.

Yejin laughed, resting her head on his belly button, “I wasn’t doing anything.”

“You said that twice yesterday,” Jaemin smiled sleepily, scratching her head with blunt fingernails. “I don’t know if I can trust you anymore.”

“I promise I won’t do anything lewd,” she assured. “I was just admiring. Do you want to go out to eat with me?”

“Mm, what are you thinking?” Jaemin asked, throwing his free arm behind his head while looking down at Yejin with a gentle gaze.

“Lunch, at this point,” she mentioned, nodding towards the clock. “Whose turn is it to stay with Jeno?”

“Mine,” Jaemin yawned, nudging her to the side as he sat up and stretched his limbs. “I’m supposed to be there at four, so we should probably get going.”

“We can always get it to-go.”

“Let’s save that for a backup,” he mentioned, getting up from the bed and noticing eyes staring at him from behind. He looked over and furrowed his eyebrows as Yejin beamed up at him, “What?”

“You’re so pretty,” she smiled, pulling his hand for a kiss. “I love you.”

“Pretty?” Jaemin laughed, “that’s a first.”

“Hot, sexy, gorgeous— “she continued, deepening their kiss before he pulled away with a snort.

“I thought you said we were going out to eat. If you keep doing this, I’ll definitely get hard again.”

“Is that bad?”

“Move, Yejin. I’m hungry and I need to shower.”

“But you didn’t tell me you loved me back yet,” she pouted.

“I love you,” Jaemin huffed. “Done? Can I shower?”

Yejin nodded, another goofy grin before Jaemin slapped a hand over her bum playfully, “you’re such a freak. I’ll be out in a little, decide what we’re eating!”

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[ineffably-effable]

Come up and see me (make me smile)

Golgotha, 33 AD

Summary:  Golgotha, 3004 BC.

Word count: 1934 words

AN: Continues on from the role-reversal au started in  Come up and see me (make me smile)

Thanks again to @mia-ugly for being a wonderful and supportive beta reader.

(read on ao3)

Six hours.

That was how long he suffered before death finally took him.

Six. Fucking . Hours.

(“They call it crucifixion.” Aziraphale had told him once - centuries ago, in a Persian tavern - eyes downcast, as his fingers tapped out a nervous rhythm on the jar of wine in his hands. “They hammer seven-inch nails between the wrist bones to suspend the body’s weight then, over time, the force wrenches the shoulders from their sockets and crushes the rib cage.” he explained flatly. “The condemned is kept in excruciating pain until they suffocate or their heart gives out.“ The demon drank deeply from the jar.  "It can last for hours, even days depending on the method.” He looked up, meeting Crowley’s eyes for the first time that evening. “Every time I think I’ve seen the full extent of their barbarity - every blessed time - they find a way to outdo themselves.“)

Unlike Aziraphale, this was the first crucifixion Crowley had attended. Although the demon’s description had been accurate Crowley found it hadn’t prepared him for the actual experience.  

In fairness to the demon, Crowley wasn’t sure words existed that could fully convey the experience as well as agonized screams were able to.

Crowley hadn’t attended the trial or the sentencing, it felt pointless when he knew what the outcome would be. He had however attempted to miracle the man impervious to pain. (It seemed like the least he could do). Crowley had felt it take effect with some satisfaction, and then felt it being reverted immediately with annoyance. He tried two more times before he received a strongly-worded communication (i.e. Gabriel yelling directly into his brain) that any further interference would be treated as grounds for Crowliel’s removal from earth. A follow-up from Michael (rather less yelling, but still headache-inducing) warned Crowley that crucifixion had been chosen especially for its brutality (to establish a “convincingly sympathetic religious symbol”) and that he should keep an eye out for demonic interference instead of being a nuisance.

Well, that was him told .

He arrived at Golgotha just as the procession made its way to the base of the skull-shaped rock. Aziraphale spotted him shortly afterwards, the demon weaving through the crowd to take a place at Crowley’s side. They had both winced - and noticed the other doing so - as the centurion’s hammer was put to its purpose.  Aziraphale threw Crowley a look as if to say ” well, this is certainly fucked up “ but otherwise remained silent.  

As the mourners wailed, and the three men grew more delirious from pain, Crowley wondered why his demonic counterpart was even there. Unlike other demons - Aziraphale was not the type to take pleasure from others’ suffering, yet he also seemed disinclined to interfere. Instead he looked restless, he kept stealing uneasy glances skyward and at Crowley as though he were waiting for divine intervention. 

Good luck with that. Crowely thought bitterly.

The hours passed, the sky darkened - Jesus finally, blessedly, died - and the bodies were brought down and carried away. The mourners and spectators gradually dispersed until it was just the two of them remaining, sitting side by side on a large bench-shaped rock the demon had miracled about three hours into the proceedings.

But now, Aziraphale had taken to his feet - he was pacing back and forth. Crowley watched him and found himself torn. Equal parts longing to start a conversation and unable to think of anything to say. Well, he could think of plenty to say, but there was a low-burning bitter fury in his gut - the type that led him to voice the sort of thoughts that worried his demonic friend. So he remained silent.

“Did you ever meet him?” Aziraphale asked, a little too suddenly, as if the question has been on the tip of his tongue for hours.

Crowley shook his head, still staring out at the now-empty wooden beams. 

“I did once,” Aziraphale started, “I was assigned to tempt him to faithlessness.”  Crowley looked up at that, and Aziraphale smiled wryly at his surprise. “I don’t think anyone below really expected it to take, they just felt like we should be seen to do something .” 

“How did that work out for you?” Crowley asked, genuinely curious.

“He was exceptionally clever and stubbornly devout. How do you think it went?”  Crowley smirked at him, and Aziraphale laughed. “I changed tactics of course. Debated theology and ethics with him until I was blue in the face - we had forty days so thought odds were good I might catch him in some form of  hypocrisy. It was truly vexing. He gave the impression that I amused him.” Aziraphale seemed fond of the memory. “You would have liked him.” 

Crowley didn’t doubt it.

“I’m sure I would have.” 

(It was the reason he had avoided Nazareth since the annunciation. He may have been slow on the uptake - it might have taken forty years of pointless wandering with a tribe of doomed Israelites - but no one could say he didn’t learn from his mistakes. When the Almighty played favourites it was best not to get emotionally invested.

He felt an urge to confess that to Aziraphale, but suppressed it. Crowley was unsure whether Aziraphale would applaud his self-preservation or be disgusted with his cowardice.) 

“Be kind to each other.” the demon said out of the blue, startling Crowley from his thoughts.

“Hmm?”

“That’s what he said to anger them all.” The demon’s tone was inscrutable, but Crowley thought his words were an over-simplification.

“For my money, it was his knack for drawing crowds and threatening their authority.”

Aziraphale shook his head angrily.

“He was kind and they tortured him for it.” The demon’s voice had a hard edge to it. “He believed in Her and She abandoned him.” he spat.

Oh. 

The demon turned his face away. Crowley heard his breathing hitch. 

“Aziraphale…” Crowley didn’t know what to say, how to approach this type of anger. (A millennia-old question burned in his throat, one he desperately wanted answered but not at the cost of causing his friend more pain.)

“Do you think She felt anything when he cried out for Her?” the demon asked. 

Crowley wanted badly to reach out and grasp Aziraphale’s hand within his own. Wanted to use that grip to pull the demon into his arms. Wanted to offer him whatever comfort he could. Wanted, but didn’t.

Coward. 

His fingers twitched. 

“Aziraphale, I-” 

The demon turned to look at Crowley and studied him. He forced a smile. 

“It’s alright dear.” 

“No it’s…”

“Let’s not speak of it.” he says firmly. “I shouldn’t have sa-”.

“She’s bringing him back.”  Crowley blurted out, stopping the demon in his tracks.

“What?” 

“In three days, he’ll be resurrected. Then he’ll ascend to a seat by her side. She didn’t-”  abandon him. Crowley cut himself off.  “It wasn’t a punishment.” he said instead.

Aziraphale stared at him. Crowley stood, approaching the demon slowly as though he might bolt. 

“I’m glad for him.” Aziraphale said finally, voice raw.

Liar. Crowley thought. His expression must give him away because Aziraphale’s lips twisted into a smile. “No, really. He didn’t deserve that.” 

“No he didn’t.”  Crowley stressed with absolute certainty, hoping he’d made himself clear. He received a sharp look in response. 

“Don’t. I was indulging in self-pity and you shouldn’t humour me- just don’t.”

Crowley raised both hands placatingly.

“OK I won’t.” 

“Good.”  Aziraphale pronounced. 

A beat of awkward silence hung between them.

Aziraphale fumbled with his outer tunic and produced a leather pouch. He unfastened the tie and held it out to Crowley. “Apricot?” 

Crowley stared at him blankly.

“You brought snacks?“  (A small, easily dismissed, part of Crowley's brain delighted in how precious that was.)

  “I always carry something,” the demon replied defensively. “And I haven’t eaten all day!”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “We don’t need to eat.”

Aziraphale shrugged and stuffed a few apricots into his mouth. “It does feel awfully good though.” he responded, while chewing. The innocent pleasure on his face cheered Crowley considerably.

“Oh go on,” he held a hand out. 

Aziraphale grinned, and dumped five or six pieces onto Crowley’s palm. Then the cheeky bastard laughed.

“Who knew tempting an angel would be so easy?”

Crowley stared at the dried fruit in his hand and then back at the demon. He picked up a piece and regarded it carefully, enjoying the weight of Aziraphale’s anticipation. Then, he pelted it at him. He grinned at the demon’s surprised yelp.

“Will you stay here long?” Crowley asked innocently, entertained by the way Aziraphale was warily eyeing the remaining apricots in his hand.

Aziraphale shook his head. “Received orders last night, it’s Rome for me. You?”

Crowley popped the rest of the dried fruit in his mouth. “Here for the time being,” he replied, chewing thoughtfully,  “although Heaven knows I should look in on the empire if you’ve been left there unattended.”

Aziraphale groaned at the familiar jibe.

“It’s been over five decades, surely we can move past this?" 

"Of course, as soon as you stop insulting my intelligence and just admit what you did.”

“You have no proof whatsoever.”

“Four years of you whinging about Alexandria, then his senators turn on him the very week you arrive in the city.”

"Coincidence?” Aziraphale offered sheepishly.

“Try again.”

“Divine justice?” 

Crowley glared at him. Aziraphale gave him a charming smile.

“It really was a beautiful library.”

Crowley tried to maintain the glare, but failed miserably. Completely unable to contain an amused huff. 

He turned to look in the east, where the sun was beginning to rise. “I should probably be off soon.”

“Go on, I’m planning to fly to Jaffa from here anyway.”

Crowley hung back. Though the demon had hinted at his other form several times Crowley had never seen it. 

“You know you can transform in front of me right? I wouldn’t think less of you for it.”

“Oh I know that,” the demon responded far too quickly, “it’s just not very impressive that’s all.”

“I don’t mind.”

Aziraphale looked uncomfortable. “They’re meant to be a bad omen, I wouldn’t want to curse you inadvertently.”

Crowley smirked.

“I’ll take my chances.”

Aziraphale sighed and then changed. Shrinking rapidly, his black and white curls morphed into brown and white feathers. His yellow eyes were the only part of him that remained the same. Crowley stretched out a hand and Aziraphale flew up to perch on it. He couldn’t have been more than eight inches tall. 

“You’re adorable.” Crowley raised a finger to stroke the downy patch underneath his beak and received a (gentle peck).

“I’m formidable.” The owl grumbled back.

“You’re so little.” Another peck, this time sharper. “None of that now.” Crowley chastised. “I don’t know why you wouldn’t show this form off more, you’re very handsome like this.”

“Oh handsome ‘like this’ am I? Thank you very much.” Crowley tried not to laugh as the annoyed demon literally ruffled its feathers.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Your eyes are always very striking, demon.”

“I’ll see you in Rome, angel . That is if you can bear to see my hideous human form." 

That did make Crowley laugh. "You’re just fishing for compliments now.” he stroked Aziraphale’s head, somewhat surprised the demon was allowing such an affectionate gesture. The owl made a happy sounding trill noise which it cut off abruptly - as though it had taken him by surprise. Without another word the demon head-butted Crowley’s fingers away and flew off.

Crowley watched until Aziraphale disappeared from view before he made his way back to the town.

[blouisparadise]

As promised, here the continuing rec list of fics where Louis is called pet names. Part one can be found here, and when it’s out, part three will also be linked here. Happy reading!

1) Tie You Up and Make Me Scream | Explicit | 2166 words

AU where Harry teases Louis and it becomes a game until they cant handle it anymore and escape to have tent sex while the rest of the boys are in the other tents.

2) Feel The Need | Explicit | 4898 words

Louis and Harry attend Liam's Halloween party. Risky Business ensues.

3) Just Stop Your Crying (It’s A Sign Of The Times) | Explicit | 5864 words

My own imagining of the inspiration for Sign of the Times.  Featuring boys in love, even after all this time.

4) We’ll Stumble Through Heaven | Explicit | 6504 words

Louis likes to be a good boy for his alpha.

5) Raised on Rhythm and Blues | Explicit | 8034 words

“That look on your face makes me think you’re not cooking me spaghetti fast enough,” Louis announces as he walks back into the kitchen. Harry knows exactly where Zoe gets her habits from.

“Cooking for my two beautiful and insanely intelligent children, not for the weird bloke that sleeps in my bed and eats all my food,” Harry answers, tilting his head and wondering if he should add more sauce.

6) Forever, Uninterrupted | Explicit | 8578 words

Harry finds a mysterious picture in Louis' bag one night and drives himself crazy over it. It's definitely not what he thinks.

7) Spice Up Your Life | Explicit | 9501 words

After a conversation with his Uni friends, Harry worries that his relationship with Louis has lost it's spark.

8) Infinitely All For Me | Explicit | 10630 words

The Alpha Louis' been betrothed to since he was 14 has finally come of age and Louis' been delivered to his home.

9) Keep Holding Me This Way | Explicit | 13747 words

An English grad student, a frat jock, and an unimpressed rich boy walk into a bar. No one walks out.

10) Let’s Take the World By Storm | Explicit | 14656 words

Harry lifts his head off Louis' chest to look at Louis' face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

“I don’t know, but our sex life feels a bit boring, ‘sall,” Louis says, completely avoiding eye contact.

“Boring.” Harry says flatly. He doesn’t say anything more, and Louis looks up to see that Harry seems to be mulling it over.

“Yeah, boring," Louis says, and keeps talking before Harry can pipe up. “I mean, think about it. We’ve been dating since X Factor, and now things are starting to drag a bit. We don’t even have the time for handjobs anymore, much less actual sex.”

11) The Seed Inside You, Baby, Do You Feel It Growin’ | Explicit | 14793 words

Louis really wants Harry to get him pregnant.

12) Oops, Baby, I Love You (In That Order) | Explicit | 25344 words

The minute Louis Tomlinson decides he don’t need no man to start a family, Harry Styles literally falls into his arms.

13) Another Day Gettin’ Into Trouble | Explicit | 25619 words

Harry’s drunk when the idea occurs to him. He’s also a pop star, so sometimes his drunk ideas turn into actual things instead of just ideas. The clone-a-willy kit is one of them.

In Harry’s defense, when he first thinks about it his intention is just to buy the kit and give it to Louis to make his own dildo with, because that’s what he wants anyway, right? To have a penis filling him up?

Then he realizes that it would be weird if Louis made a copy of his own dick to fuck himself with. It’d be super weird. Louis fucking himself? That’s a weird idea. Harry’s pretty sure Louis wouldn’t like that.

Clearly the only solution here is to use his own dick for the mold.

14) Force of Nature | Mature | 25672 words

Louis is a shy, young musician who doesn't want to go to Harvard.

Harry is a confident,  second year athlete who likes to have a good time.

When their paths cross while their families are vacationing at the same lake resort, what begins as a summer of fun becomes a defining journey that might just change everything.

15) Up To No Good | Explicit | 26525 words | Sequel 1 | Sequel 2

Harry doesn’t think of himself as a womanizer, not at all. Sure, he enjoys sex, enjoys how women feel underneath him, and by some people’s standards he has sex with quite a lot of people, but that’s no reason to tell him that he can’t have a female PA anymore.

It’s especially no excuse for giving him a male PA who’s possibly the most gorgeous boy in the world who won’t even let Harry look at him for too long.

Sometimes Harry hates his life.

16) Always Come Back To You | Explicit | 28862 words

“I’ll do it,” Harry offers brightly. No one even blinks. “I’ll do it?”

Louis sighs irritably. “Shut up,” he orders, tossing a pillow in the general direction of Harry’s face. This is a terrible time for jokes, especially Harry’s lame, old people ones.

Not that it was an old people joke. Just that most of the time Harry’s jokes consist of knock-knocks or terrible puns. The type of jokes old people like, Louis’ pretty sure. His nan always finds them hilarious when Harry tells her one.

Harry bats the pillow out of the air without even blinking. “Be reasonable, Lou,” he says in his most reasonable voice.

Louis is perfectly reasonable, thank you very much, and he’s also frustrated and upset and tired and he really wants to punch something. Maybe he should have held on to that pillow a little longer.

“You’re not gonna fucking do it,” he snaps. “That’s the last thing I need.”

17) Blind From This Sweet, Sweet Craving | Explicit | 31170 words

"So, I guess we'll go?" Louis asks later, when Harry has calmed down and eaten his weight in Chinese food. He plays with this chopsticks, spearing another piece of chicken and pops it in his mouth. "I mean, I wouldn't mind. We could make it an adventure."

Harry observes him, watches him seated across from him on their old living room carpet, with a container of food on his lap. He's fidgeting, avoiding meeting Harry's gaze–he probably knows that Harry's mad at him for ruining the one chance they had to get out of this situation. And he's not wrong, Harry is definitely very mad. Harry wants to strangle him and castrate him and smack him upside the head.

But he's also Harry's best friend, and despite everything, despite all the fuck-ups and the plot twists and everything just not playing out the way it should, he'd still rather be stuck in this situation with Louis than any of the other boys. He's got Harry's back, and in a weird, abstract way, he knows they'll be able to get out of this situation, together.

Harry sighs. "We're going," he says resignedly, his shoulders slumping.

Oh well. There are definitely worse ways to spend the weekend than pretending to be engaged to his best friend.

18) Cupid’s Chokehold | Explicit | 35326 words

Louis is a Cupid who tries to match up Niall and Harry. It doesn't work out as planned.

19) Mark My Word (We Gon’ Be Alright) | Explicit | 35524 words

"He’s always known that there would come a time when Harry would bond with some beautiful, quiet omega, and they would have lots of curly-haired pups and live happily ever after.

Knowing it and living it are two very different things, though. Watching the object of your affection desperately search for a mate and completely disregard you as an option is all sorts of painful, but it is what it is, and Louis is just going to have to learn to live with that."

20) Who Would’ve Thought | Explicit | 44275 words | Companion Fic

The idea doesn’t come to Louis until they’ve been at the bungalow for a couple of days. Harry has no idea that he’s going to pop a knot. He’s been living his life with the expectation that he’s going to be a beta, and Louis isn’t going to tell him otherwise.

Louis is an omega, though, and most omegas want to be filled up with a knot,  fucked the way their bodies are made to be fucked, and Louis is no different. In ten years he wants to have an alpha waiting for him at home who will hold him down and fuck him exactly the way Louis wants to be fucked without worrying that they’re going to expect him to stay at home, open a joint bank account, raise a litter of babies, cook and clean and, most importantly, be submissive. For that to happen Louis needs an entirely different kind of alpha.

And so the plan is born.

21) Tangled Up In You | Explicit | 45152 words

Harry blinks once. And blinks again. And says, his voice dangerous: “Niall, did you get me a mail-order bride?”

Because what the actual fuck. It kind of looks like Niall’s just purchased a person. For Harry.

Niall blinks back at him for a few moments, before throwing his head back and howling with laughter. Harry throws a pillow at him. Hard. “No, what the fuck, Harry.”

“A prostitute then?” Harry also doesn't want a prostitute.

“Of course not!”

“A stripper?”

“No!”

Damn, he’s running out of ideas. He settles for launching another pillow at Niall’s head. Niall bats it away easily, still laughing. “Stop!”

“What did you get me, then?!” Niall must hear the tinge of hysteria in his voice, because he’s pulling himself together, trying to stop himself from laughing.

There’s still a big grin on his face, though, when he says, “I got you a professional cuddler.”

A professional…what. “What?”

22) Nobody Does It Like You | Not Rated | 58820 words

Louis isn't looking for a home, but he finds one in Harry.

23) Tug-Of-War | Explicit | 63000 words

Louis' husband dies suddenly and he is left with nothing. Well, not really nothing. He has Harry. And a St. Bernard puppy named Link, whom his late husband left behind for him. Louis takes care of Link and Harry takes care of Louis. Everything is okay until suddenly, it isn't.

24) Why Can’t It Be Like That | Explicit | 63567 words

A fashion AU with a royal twist, where Louis doesn't need a stylist, Harry's thrilled to have a real life Barbie doll, and they're both very wrong about each other.

25) Perfect Storm | Explicit | 80230 words

What do you do when your best friend asks you and your (now) ex to be the best men at his destination wedding? You can either tell him the truth, tell him you’re not together anymore, and deal with the consequences, or you can pretend you’re still together and roll with it, just pray you don’t spiral. Fake it ‘til you make it. You know, for the sake of the wedding.

Harry and Louis choose the latter.

Check out our other fic rec lists by category here and by title here.

[sparkesink]

Chapter 13:

Into The Forest

“Get Up.”

(Get Up.)

 I Rise.

Laying Upon My Posterior,

(Inconsequently Inferior.) 

I Stay,

(Inquisitively,) 

Here.

 “What Now?

Where?

(How?)”

 “Get Up!”

Vivian Resonating, 

(Throughout My Conscious.)

“Get Up!”

 “Vivian,”

(I Sigh,)

Siting Upon The Damp Growth, 

(Beneath Me.)

“Vivian,

I Have Been Waiting For Help,”

(Peering Amongst The Dew.)

 “Don’t You Get It?”

(Vivian Ringing Through,)

“There Is No One Coming, 

(To Help You.)

 You May,

(Dream Amongst The Bay,)

You May,

(Cower And Stay,)

You May,

(Pray And Pray…)

You May,

Beg And Plead,

(Make It All Go Away.)

 The Longer You Wait,

(The Longer You Stay,)

The Further You Will Fade,

(Such Lost Dream’s Decay.)

 There Is No Business For You Here,

(Yet.)

 Get Up!

(Get Up.)”

 I Look Out,

(Amongst The Star Dust;)

Hollering,

(Why Can’t I Just Fucking Leave?)

Wiping Mucus,

Across The Heart,

(Upon My Sleeve.) 

 “I Have Been Here,

(My Whole Existence.)

I Keep Attempting Adventure,

Live Beautifully,

(Draped In Sheer.)

 My Body Is Mutated…

(Torqued,)

Knees Shackled,

(Oblique.)”

“You Accept,

(They Broke You?)

I Hadn’t Expected, 

You’d Be So Weak.”

(Sleek,)

Slipping Down, 

(W. Pitty Bend.)

 This Isn’t The End.

You Have Made Promises,

(Those To Whom Your Heart Throbs:)

You’re A Woman Of Dignity,

No More,

(The Girl Who Sobs.)

 I Had Thought, 

Your Material Woven Graphene;

(Molded Amongst Polythene.) 

Internally Intertwined,

(Carefully Taught.)

 Such Vast Happenstance, 

(In Life,) 

How Unexplainable…

The Rain Glistening Upon The Pavement, 

Producing Distinct Essence,

(Saturated Asphalt,) 

Filling Space Around This… 

(The Comfort Of New Life.) 

 I Sit, 

Gazing Upon Droplets, 

Bouncing Amongst Saturated Wood. 

(Boarding,)

Beneath My Feet:

(Waltzing,)

Upon The Sound Of My Winding Thoughts. 

Brain Tangled, 

(Saturated Un-satisfaction;) 

I Cannot Contain This Drastic Thought Wandering: 

(Those Darkest Areas Within My Mind…) 

In Which I Desperately Attempt…

Such An Act, 

Such Sweet Sensation,

(Intertwined.)

 Swirling,

(Tumbling…)

Down…

Down Amongst The Deepest Facets Of My Person;

(Pulling My Current Consciousness…) 

Toward This World Of Nonsense, 

(Desperation.)

 If Love Can Change The World… 

(Move Mountains…) 

Such As I Have Lead Myself To Believe… 

(This Long…) 

Why Must There Be Such A World,

(Surrounded And Engulfed,) 

With Pain And Loneliness?

(Masked In Such Sweet Song.)

 I Sat There,

Cowered,

(Shamed…)

I Cried To Him,

The Cold Response… 

(Left Me Maimed.)

“My Knees Hurt,

They Crack In Pain!”

To Sit In Rain…

My Only Claim:

My Efforts, 

(Draped In Shame.)

No Family Ties,

(Leaving Such Somber Name.)

Not One Drop Of Blood,

(Amongst This Chilling Rain,)

“Get Up,

(Get Up!)”

 I Feel A Party Within The Mist,

The Water Vaporization,

Vibrating Simultaneously,

A Quiver:

Such,

(A Sensibly Soft Trick.)

Dancing,

Along The Brain Stem;

Dripping Amongst,

(Such Beautiful Spinal Cords,)

Ringing In Such Highs,

(And Lows,)

Synchronizing Within Beat,

(Composed Of Comfortable Foes.)

 How Exciting Could It Be?

“A Party, Just For Me!”

I Couldn’t Imagine;

The Last Time I Was A Celebration.

The Last Time I Felt Calm,

Effortless Appreciation.

 Extremities,

(Covered In Muck,)

Mud,

Blood,

Endless Despair:

Spread As Wild Fire,

“That’s All You Will Get, Here.

 Get Up,

You Will Find Your Way,

There Is No Doubt,

Your Clarity Remain Work,

(If You Wish It Stay...)

Allow Such Beautiful Seed,

Gain Reassurance;

(Formulate Healthy Sprout.)

 You Pray:

‘My Love,

Please,

Let Me Give Up.

Please Let Me Focus,

(Upon Mediocre Things….)

Leave These Wild Pipe Dreams…

Dreams Of Things,

Things Without Strings.

Let Me Fake This Desire:

(Writing To Capture Self Power.)

Give Me An Excuse To Fail,

Let Me Kill The Never-ending Tale…’

Such A Tale,

Consistent Of Dramatic Fail…

Desire To Sail…

Far,

Far,

Far Away…

So Far,

I Lose Sight Of Our Bay.

This Land Written Curse:

Tainted From False Hurst,

Crashing Our Love,

(Within Our Home,)

Extremities Buried Within That Black Sand…

Forever,

(Together,)

We Destined Upon That Land.

Surviving Tide Struck,

Bound In love,

Such Luck,

(Dressed In Despair…)

I Will Find That Ship,

Such Infamous Freedom…

(Transport Us There.)”

 No One Ever Said,

“Self Fulfillment Came Easy.”

Denying Past Happenstance,

Assuringly Labeled “Sleazy.”

 “Find The Rabbit,

He,

(Of All,)

Render True…

Beware The One With Yellow Eye,

His Path Will Only Trick.

Learn What You Need,

(This Naïve Mistake,)

Learn To Show Yourself…

Without Feeling “Fake”.

Divide What’s Inside,

Follow Your Guide:

Your Heart?

(Drag It Directly Toward The Tide.)

The Hymns Will Ring,

Falling Short Of Expectation…

This Is,

My Dear,

A Timeless Plot Put In Motion,

Originating Within This Situation.

Gracefully Walk Along,

Do Not Stay To Long…

Less The Prophet Cry,

(Forever Within Song.)

 You Are Never Alone, 

I Will Guide You, 

(Along Your Way…)

It Is Time To Get Up,

My Dearest Friend…

It Is Time,

You Finally Find Your Way…

Just Get Up, TJ.” 

 “Stick To Your Guns”

Such Rhythm, 

(Inconsequentially,) 

Filling My Lungs.

I Plant My Feet Amongst The Earth,

(Knees Lock In Place,)

Childbirth Left Additional Girth,

(Gravity Pull Heavy Upon Such Case…)

Snap,

Crackle,

CRACK…

Each Buckle Beneath Me…

 “Try Again TJ.”

I Took A Deep Breath Within…

Planted My Feet,

(This Time In Dedication:)

Lifting Self Upon These Toes,

Hips Shifting,

Preparation In Combat, 

(Centuries Discard False Foes.)

 Left Foot Slip,

Broke My Fucking Hip,

(Fuck This.)

I Fucking Cried Till The Owls Called,

“Are You Okay, TJ?”

“No….

I’m Not Fucking Okay.

Nothing Works,

I’ve Lost Prime Years To Insecurity,

The Cowardice Kind,

(The Type That Lurks…)

I Lost So Much Fucking Time,

Lost In Others Crime:

Finding Comfort Within A Cheap Dime.

I Still Entangled In Severed Strings…

A Puppet Cut Free,

(Doesn’t Cut This Pain Of Broken Things;)

So Dear To My Heart…

Harmonious Harp Hymns, 

Played Amongst These Heart Strings.

This Pain Is Excruciating.”

 “You Must Get Up,

Don’t You See?

The Muck Beneath You Will Devour You:

(It Preys On Weakness To Be…)

The Creatures Within Will Sleek Upon Your Mind,

Manipulating Their Pain Into False Shame,

(The Consequences Render Unkind.)

Remove These Strings,

A Tourniquet To Your Sanity…

They No Longer Control You.

You No Longer A Puppet To Be…

You Are A Soldier,

Beginning Preparation;

(Mankind’s Ultimate Combat.)

Human Kind: 

(A Theoretical Wombat,)

Lacking Emotional Sensation…

 You Are The Mother Reaper,

‘Tis Your Duty:

(Preserve Divine Creation.)

 A Divine Species:

Divinity Does Not Discriminate,

It Is Not A Skin Tone,

It Does Not Judge Upon Culture…

(Nor Religious Background.)

It Does Not Care Where You Have Been…

It Does Not Mind Where You Are Born.

It Does Not Hate,

(You Do That Enough Yourself,)

Come,

(Make Haste.)

 Heaven And Hell Are Places On Earth…

Within Cognitive Mind,

(Creative Imagination…)

Dreams Are But Determination,

(Failure But Self Sabotage…)

And The Limbo In Between…

That’s What You See…

In Corporate Cubical…

Drained Of All They’d Ever Been…

 Demons Are Subconsciously Stored Memories…

(People Battling Their Own Temptations,)

Imprinted Upon An Innocent:

Death Of Perfect Creation.

 Angles Are Those Whom Are Given,

Dropped To The Earth For Guidance And Care…

Angles Are Easily Converted,

Flight To Swim…

Those Whom Illuminate The Brightest…

(Are The Deepest To Dim.)

 Down,

Down,

Down Below The Depths Of The Nacreous Sea:

Though Black Within A Blue Written Night…

The Pain Will Ascend,

Radiating Such Splendorous Light.

There Is No Crest Without An Equal Tide,

Newton’s Third Law:

‘For Every Action, 

There Is An Equal And Opposite Reaction.

A Pair Of Forces Acting On The Two Interacting Objects;

The Size Of The Force On The First Object,

Equals The Size Of The Force On The Second Object.’

-The Physics Classroom

 You See:

There Is No “Good”,

And There Is No “Evil”…

Just Duality,

Situation,

Opportunity,

Opposition,

And A Moral Sense Of Reality.

 Human Is Birthed Innocent:

Experience Brings Trauma.

Trauma Is A Plague:

If Cared For In Haste,

An Innocent May Walk Away…

When Left;

Trauma Festers…

It Buries Deep Within The Psyche,

Infecting Such Sweetness To Bitterness.

Bitterness Gossips With Rage,

Rage Seduces Wrath…

Wrath Finds It’s Outlet In Many Forms:

Lust Betrays Those Whom We Rely For Trust,

Gluttony Betrays Thyself Of Proper Care From Lust,

Sloth Betrays Ones Joints Creating Lifelong Creak,

Requiring Additional Effort To Render Oneself “Sleek”.

Envy Spews As Consequence Of All Above:

(Crafting Insecurity As Dye Through An IV Titled “Love”.)

A Polished Narcissus Hath Been Born:

Drowning Within A Shallow Puddle,

Falsely Projected “Self Love,”

Masking Deadly Self Loathing…

Procuring Defense Mechanisms,

(Alluring Mental Prisons,)

Death By Suicide:

For How Could One Trust?

(It’s Easier To Become Alone,)

Entrust No Other Than One’s Self…

A Word So Profound:

How Could One Become So Lonely?

(Are You Found Amongst Thy Self?)

You Cannot Be Taken For Captive,

You Are Guarded Above All Else…

Couldn’t You Become Happier?

Endure A Divine Test?

Don’t Misjudge Yourself.

 (Take Heed,)

One Mustn’t Underestimate Greed…

Greed Is The Python You Capture And Take Pet;

It Services You, 

(All The Finest One Could Bet…)

A Beautiful Soul Can Easily Infect…

While Sleeping One Evening:

(A Venomous Bite To The Chest…)

The Antidote Does Not Exist,

(How Does One Turn Back On Currency?)

Providing Such Sensual Security…

Can Humility Claim?

The Divinity Of A Soul,

Greed-Written In Shame?

Actions Guided…

(Such Malicious Profitable Gain:)

Such Claim,

A Last Desperate String Remain…

(A Lifelong Petty Game.)

 Divine Species Rely Upon Light.

They Are Kind,

(Generous,)

Full Hearted.

They Are Wise,

(Logically Inclined,)

Pestered By Simplicity Of Mediocrity.

Their Goals Are Equally Funded,

(Selfless Motives For Selfish Dreams,)

Guided By Morality.

 Divinity Is Not A Birth Right,

(Instead,)

A Never Ending Wager…

(Tug Of War,)

Amongst Determination,

(Against Self Sabotage,)

A Journey For Salvation:

Painful Rebirth In Camouflage.

 You Must Become Relentless,

Render Judgment Senseless…

For If You Can Find Your Way, 

(Within This Lost Forest…)

You Can Capture Your Bay,

(No Longer Just Tourist.)

 No One Will Give It To You,

(They Will Always Turn Their Back…)

No One Will Believe In You,

(Lest They Find Proof In Which They Lack…)

Do Not Be Fooled By Their False Praise,

Just Ask The Onesler:

(His Blood Stricken Within Greed-Written Gaze.)

I Must Be Going,

(I Shall See You Inside…)

It Is Time Now To Get Up,

Your Future Arrive.”

 The Air Became Silent, 

(A Void,)

Where Her Soft Somber Rang Clear:

I Wipe The Mud From Upon My Face,

Muster To Secrete One Final Tear.

“I Must Become Relentless…”

This Slither Of Sound Slip Between My Lip,

A Little White Box Emerge From Within The Muck;

Labeled,

“Tools To Mend Shackled Knees And Broken Hip.”

A Drill Conjoining Industrial Size Screws…

“…Fuck.”

Four In Each Knee…

A Large One For The Hip…

I Bite Down Upon My Book’s Wooden Lip.

Teeth Marks Emboss, 

Blood Spatter,

(Un-saturated Ground Loss…)

 One,

Two,

Three,

Four…

One Knee Down,

(Endure Your Pain Some More,)

Reap The Befits… 

(Creation Of Lore.) 

 Five,

Six,

Seven,

Eight…

These Indestructible Joints Won’t Faint, 

(Repercussions: Stagnant Sloth Takes Lead On This Shore.)

Just One More Screw…

(The Largest Of Them All:)

My Hands Tremble,

(Quiver…)

The Pain But Only A Few Lonely Seconds Tall.

 A New Tool Appeared Within This Little Box,

Written In Invisible Ink,

“You Must Cauterize Your Wounds,

Till The Screws Illuminate Red Pink,

Procuring Your Flesh To Sizzle And Stink.”

Filling The Space Where My Drill Previously Lie…

Now Lay A Diathermy Instrument,

(Awaiting My Thigh.) 

 “FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK… 

FUCK!!!!!”

 “Yes,

Yes Now…

Now You May Enter This Forest Of Fears,

Tears,

Soaked,

(Such Blood Thirsty Cloak.)

A Legend Of Mirrors,

(All Lined In A Row…)

Can You Dodge Such Foe?

Tuck And Hide,

You’ll Never See Pride…

When The Octo-Cyprus Take Your Hide…

Don’t Be Mad,

It’s Only A Land Of Physics…

It’s The Same Sea, 

(As You See Through Me:)

When The Classics,

Turned Out, 

(Druggie Basics.)

 The Saddest Situation?

Your One In A Million,

Living On A Planet:

(Of 7.53 Billion.)

Which In Conclusion:

Your Basic Even If You Are Special…

Your Now One In Seven Thousand, 

Five-Hundred, 

Thirty.

(Improbable To Comparing Structural Sturdy;)

Not One Single Who,

(Left To Shit Not One Single Clue,)

When You’re Just Pushing Thirty,

Why You Should Matter Enough… 

(Continuation Of Existence, Too.)

 It Starts Real Low,

You See?

The People Who Depend On Me,

(Those Same To Believe Within Me.)

 I Have Come To Mark My Respects,

(I’m Not The One Making It Out Of This Mess.)

I Could Come With Stride,

Dip My Feet Within These Shallow Puddles, 

(Ink. Dipped Within Pride,)

I Can’t Help But Digress,

(This Beauty Within Such Stress.)

 Next Step?

Defeating All The Bets,

Becoming One In Seven Thousand,

Five Hundred,

Thirty.

 I Have Ever Only Loved You, TJ…

(A One In A Million’s Chance:)

I Must Run Off Now,

This Music Lures A Lustful Dance…

I Will See You Amongst The Creatures Of The Forest,

We Shall Reconvene Inside,

(Preferably By Full Moon’s Chance.)”

 Once More,

My Fingers Linger Along My Lore:

Oiled Wood, 

(Lining These Finger Prints.)

Hesitating Upon Thought…

Just One Last Time…

I Flip To Her Scribbled Heart,

(Distinct From The Rest.)

She Was Smart,

So Very Cunning…

(To Be Honest:

Radiantly Stunning.)

She Could Gather a Crowd,

In A Flick Of Her Wrist,

A Supernatural Charm;

Her Strides Atop The List.

She Was A Scrappy Survivor,

Occurred Delicately, 

(Behind Soft Fist.)

 (I Have Been Avoiding This.)

A Drunk…

Surviving Each Day:

Account For Loneliness,

Disregard,

(Hate…)

Behind A Forty…

Or A Wine Box For Taste…

Drinking Cheap Tequila From A Sippy-cup…

(Depression Holds A Sloppy Face.)

 “Vivian, 

I Don’t Wish For You To Leave:

They Will Mock Me,

Wearing Your Heart Upon My Sleeve…

You Are My Armor…

I’m Afraid To Drown, 

(Within That Harbor.)”

 “TJ,

You Do Not Get To Make These Choices.

This Was Always Determined,

Less You Wish, 

Forever In Love With Imaginary Voices.

This Option Is Not Meant For You,

You Will Walk With Substantial Stride:

Sprouting Healthy Seed Amongst Your Tide.

You Will Not Need Me Upon This Shore…

Go,

Finish Our Lore.”

 Her Silence Rang Loud Upon My Eardrums…

Her Lore Fills My Head,

Masked Within A Crashing Shore:

Tattered-Rag Bound Conundrums…

I Line My Fingers Amongst The Rag,

(Sequential To Jade’s Torment In Lag.)

 I Know,

(That Of Which,) 

I Do Not Wish To Read,

Afraid Others Shall Mislead…

In A World Of Lonely Substantial Sand,

Through The Forest,

My Dreams Can Foot,

(Given Energy To Stand.)

 “Look,

Look Out Amongst The Mist:

Can You Hear?

(These Creatures Are Sin-kissed.)

Do Not Stop,

(Nor Stare;)

Less This Muck Devour You,

(Drag You Deep Within The Infirmary Lair.)

They Will Eat Your Mind,

(Savor You Alive…)

You Must Spark A Deal,

(I Know This Produces Coward And Cringe…)

But She Will Protect You,

(After He Take Me Away From Here.)

I Cannot Survive,

I’m Covered Within Envious,

(Lustful Hide.)

 The Octo-Cyprus Will Come,

(Rides To Pay My Toll.)

Only Then,

Shall Your Contracted Soul,

Be Reciprocated:

Your Payment In Full.”

 Her Words Begin To Swirl And Flutter Before My Eyes,

Lining A Clear Path, 

(My Insignificance Cannot Hide.)

In Capturing That Menial Energy,

Captivation Of “Impossible” Dreams...

 My Tools Set Aside,

(Succumb To Sink Within This Muck.)

Pulling My Weight,

My Knees Kick In Lock…

A Broken Hip:

(Given Zero Clearance,)

Desiring Significant Failure To Mock.

 I Stand In Strength,

One Foot,

Before Another…

(Each Step Gaining Length.)

 The Leaves Crunch,

(Each Branch Concerns Break.)

The Impact Of These Feet Carry Fragility…

I Shatter In Trepidation Of Which Become Near:

Marching Into The Forest,

Salvation Is Quite,

(Finally,)

Here.

 Into The Forest, We Go…

[junker-town]

The 2017 Egg Bowl live blog: Rebels win a Bowl game after all!

The bowl-banned Rebels took out frustrations against No. 14 Mississippi State in a sloppy, sloppy Egg Bowl.

Ole Miss entered the season without hopes of reaching a bowl game, due to self-sanctions amid its ongoing NCAA to-do. Back in April, Rebels AD Ross Bjork joked about giving every game of the regular season a bowl name anyway, for motivation purposes.

Well, the Rebels just won a game with “Bowl” in its name anyway (even if it was only added to the series’ name in the 1970s by a desperate newspaper), hanging on for a win in the Egg Bowl against archrival Mississippi State, 31-28. Thus ends a bizarre 2017 for the 6-6 Rebels and the interim tenure of coach Matt Luke.

The Egg Bowl was its typical debacle self, with five MSU turnovers, 22 total penalties, and a ghastly ankle injury for Bulldogs starting QB Nick Fitzgerald, who later returned on crutches to cheer his teammates. Two pregame shoving matches and in-game taunts that included a dog-pee celebration and a Rebel declaring his native Starkville “my city” were the highlights. Those MSU turnovers — four of them with promising freshman QB Keytaon Thompson at the wheel — were the story, as Clanga actually outgained the Rebels by 146 yards on the night and nearly pulled off the comeback.

Oh, and Ole Miss’ best defender on the night, lineman Breeland Speaks, was both ejected for unsportsmanlike flags, one of which put the game’s final result in doubt, and the star of the night’s best meme.

Extremely Egg Bowl.

Thus ends yet another surprising, vicious, and messy edition of America’s frequently most surprising, vicious, and messy rivalry.

Fourth quarter

Ole Miss 31, MSU 28, 1:05. Lol, never give up on the Egg Bowl! The Rebels recover the onside kick, though.

Ole Miss 31, MSU 21, 4:58. Clanga’s best drive of the night, capped by a 30-yard Kylin Hill TD run up the right sideline, plus an unsportsmanlike flag on Ole Miss for yappin’ in the end zone. On brand. MSU also hit the two-point conversion with a Keytaon Thompson keeper on an apparent busted play.

Ole Miss 31, MSU 13, 8:24. The Bulldogs came inches shy of legally recovering an onside kick, but right after, Ole Miss’ Jordan Wilkins broke a 46-yard run right up the middle to hit 110 on the day, and that might do it.

Ole Miss 24, MSU 13, 9:16. Not much had happened since the dog pee, until Deddrick Thomas scored to complete an eight-play State drive. Also, the Egg Bowl trophy has been spotted in its rightful resting place.

Strange place to store the Egg Bowl trophy in Starkville. Between a hot dog warmer and coffee pots. http://pic.twitter.com/yUyul65loE

— Pat Smith (@patsmithradio) November 24, 2017

Third quarter

Ole Miss 24, MSU 6, 2:15. D.K. Metcalf battled for a jump ball and took it 63 yards for a TD that’ll probably lace this one up, then hit the Bulldogs with an Odell Beckham-style dog pee celebration, drawing a 15-yard flag.

Ole Miss 17, MSU 6, 5:53. Good heavens, State turnover No. 5 comes on a strip of Jordan Thomas after a rare pass completion (MSU’s 5-of-12 passing). This one’s nearing a wrap.

Ole Miss 17, MSU 6, 7:13. Jordan Ta’amu found a wide-open A.J. Brown for a 77-yarder, despite a holding penalty on the defense. Brown’s up to 167 yards with 22 minutes still to go. Basically a 10-point swing in three plays. The local reaction to the Starkville native’s TD:

A Starkville Chamber of Commerce welcome for AJ Brown http://pic.twitter.com/GM3zWcn5aE

— [Escort 69] (@BunkiePerkins) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, 7:53. We’re up to four Bulldog turnovers after Keytaon Thompson, the freshman QB who’s having to carry this entire offense, fumbled on a third-and-4 run in the red zone.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, 11:30. After Keytaon Thompson broke a 31-yard run up the right sideline, a dropped pass with some uncalled Ole Miss pass interference set up a second-and-long, and two stops forced a punt. Downed at the 1, though. Some good news for everybody: injured State QB Nick Fitzgerald returned to the sidelines to cheer on his team.

Second quarter

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, halftime. After three Mississippi State turnovers, one Ole Miss turnover, 12 total penalties, two pregame scuffles, and a horrific QB injury (MSU’s Nick Fitzgerald), the Bulldogs score again thanks to some loose Ole Miss defense right before the buzzer.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, :57. Turnover No. 4 of the first half, finally in MSU’s favor, as Jordan Ta'amu was strip-sacked by Erroll Thompson.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, 1:22. MSU’s in some real trouble now, with turnover No. 3 coming on a fumble by Keytaon Thompson in Bulldog territory. Breeland Speaks found the ball and the camera:

http://pic.twitter.com/nNsmZpV0od

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, 6:24. Bulldogs on the board after a drive highlighted by a 16-yard Keytaon Thompson run. MSU ran seven times and threw just once on the drive, a ratio we might expect to continue as the freshman continues on the biggest stage he’s yet faced. Meanwhile, on the sideline:

Just got hit in the head with ice. Thought it’d be colder so I do have an extra layer on... could use some refreshment I guess.

— OleMissPix (@OleMissPix) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 0, 10:40. A couple State flags and a 29-yard run by Jordan Wilkins set up an easy field goal.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 12:08. So we just had a punt blocked by the Bulldogs’ Jeffery Simmons ... and then an immediate airmail of an INT from new MSU QB Keytaon Thompson to C.J. Moore.

First quarter

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 2:38. After a Rebel punt, new MSU QB Keytaon Thompson peeled off a 33-yard run on his first snap. That was about that for that drive, though.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 9:08. Bulldogs QB Nick Fitzgerald suffered an awful leg injury and was carted off, with both sidelines kneeling in silence. He’s replaced by Keytaon Thompson, a former four-star quarterback out of New Orleans from the class of 2017

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 9:51. CLANGA gets its first win, with a false start leading to Ole Miss’ A.J. Brown landing just shy of a first down. Punt!

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 11:15. A nine-play Bulldog drive was cut short when Myles Hartsfield leaped to pick off Nick Fitzgerald at the Ole Miss 38. Perfect start for the Rebels.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 14:22. A 58-yard heave from Jordan Ta’amu to A.J. Brown and a 22-yard Jordan Wilkins run up the middle, and the underdogs strike first.

Pregame

So much for hugs folks. The Royal Rumble has begun in Starkville. Cooler heads prevailed for now. http://pic.twitter.com/dcSbT8fhJ3

— Joel Coleman (@JoelTColeman) November 23, 2017

Leo Lewis just walked towards the Ole Miss side of the field and blew a kiss in the direction of the Rebel players during warm-ups.

— Robby Donoho III (@RobbyDonoho) November 23, 2017

Lewis is, of course, the star MSU linebacker who’s made a hobby of trolling the Rebels on Twitter and is currently in the middle of the NCAA’s investigation into Ole Miss.

Another dustup:

Not even kickoff and the #EggBowl is already chippy! http://pic.twitter.com/VZPNONYY9B

— RedditCFB (@RedditCFB) November 24, 2017

Preview

There’s only one college football game to get you through Thanksgiving on Thursday — and it’s some classic in-state hate. The No. 14 Mississippi State Bulldogs can continue its march toward the top 10 by beating their rivals, the Ole Miss Rebels, on turkey day. The 114th edition of the Egg Bowl will take place Thursday night at 7:30 p.m. ET; the game will be broadcast live on ESPN (live stream).

It’s the first Thanksgiving Egg Bowl since 2013, reviving a minor tradition in the state rivalry.

The Bulldogs have been solid but unspectacular in 2017. With eight wins they are ranked No. 16 in the College Football Playoff rankings, but they’ve only beaten one ranked team — a crushing 37-7 victory over LSU — in that span. The Rebels haven’t been as fortunate. Their rebuilding season after Hugh Freeze’s resignation has sputtered to a 5-6 record before Thursday’s season finale in Starkville. Even a win on Thanksgiving won’t keep Ole Miss’s 2017 alive — the scandal that forced Freeze out of Oxford also led to a bowl ban this winter.

Time, TV channel, and streaming info

Time: 7:30 p.m. ET

Location: Scott Field, Starkville, Miss.

TV: ESPN

Streaming: WatchESPN

Odds: Mississippi State is favored by 15 points.

Ole Miss vs. Mississippi State news:

This year, these teams even have NCAA beef. The long investigation into the Rebels has wrapped up Leo Lewis, a star Bulldogs linebacker.

Mississippi State beat Arkansas last week in a game only notable for likely getting Bret Bielema fired.

After a 14-point early lead, Arkansas couldn’t hold on against Mississippi State and fell, 28-21. This TD with seconds left was the nail in the coffin for the Razorbacks. It now guarantees a losing season for Arkansas, and this is likely the final nail in Bielema’s coffin as well.

The Hogs have had a knack for being punchy when it seems Bielema’s back is against the wall. And it’s never been more against the wall than it was right here.

Even if you’re not an Ole Miss fan, you’ve got to like what A.J. Smith is doing.

Nick Fitzgerald isn’t consistent at all for Mississippi State, but he comes through when it matters.

Fitz is the Jekyll and Hyde that everyone loves to pick apart and this game did nothing to change that. For 3.5 quarters, Fitz struggled to find his rhythm and could not break loose running the ball. Yet when crunch time hit in the fourth, he came up big with some clutch throws, including the two touchdowns, and that last one was a picture-perfect throw. The enigma that is Fitz continues to perplex Bulldogs everywhere but we happily accept the Ws he provides.

So who’s gonna be Mississippi’s next head coach? Mike Norvell? Willie Taggart?

The second-year man for the Tigers has done an incredible job following up Justin Fuente’s final two-year hurrah in the Bluff City (19-7 record, finished No. 25 in AP poll in 2014). His lone year at the head of the Memphis program, his Tigers went 8-5, finished third in the AAC and made it to a bowl game. The intriguing thing about Norvell is his high-powered offense, ability to coach a quarterback, and recruiting success at a Group of 5 program, primarily in Mississippi.

Can Mississippi State really be a top-10 team?

The Bulldogs are barrelling toward 10 wins and a coveted spot in the final top-10 rankings, but a dearth of quality wins could keep them from climbing into the FBS’s top tier. Beating a middling Ole Miss team won’t do much for their resume, but would put Mississippi State in line for a prime bowl game — and the opportunity to prove it’s a top-10 program.

Ole Miss vs. Mississippi State prediction:

The Bulldogs have more to play for, and there’s no way the players don’t know this may be their last rivalry game with Dan Mullen as their head coach. Emotions will be high, but Mississippi State will make it two Egg Bowl wins in a row.

[junker-town]

The 2017 Egg Bowl live blog: Rebels win a Bowl game after all!

The bowl-banned Rebels took out frustrations against No. 14 Mississippi State in a sloppy, sloppy Egg Bowl.

Ole Miss entered the season without hopes of reaching a bowl game, due to self-sanctions amid its ongoing NCAA to-do. Back in April, Rebels AD Ross Bjork joked about giving every game of the regular season a bowl name anyway, for motivation purposes.

Well, the Rebels just won a game with “Bowl” in its name anyway (even if it was only added to the series’ name in the 1970s by a desperate newspaper), winning the Egg Bowl against archrival Mississippi State, 31-28. Thus ends a bizarre 2017 for the 6-6 Rebels and the interim tenure of coach Matt Luke.

The Egg Bowl was its typical debacle self, with five MSU turnovers, 22 total penalties, and a ghastly ankle injury for Bulldogs starting QB Nick Fitzgerald, who later returned on crutches to cheer his teammates. Two pregame shoving matches and in-game taunts that included a dog-pee celebration and a Rebel declaring his native Starkville “my city” were the highlights. Those MSU turnovers — four of them with promising freshman QB Keytaon Thompson at the wheel — were the story, as Clanga actually outgained the Rebels by 146 yards on the night.

Oh, and Ole Miss’ best defender on the night, lineman Breeland Speaks, was both ejected for unsportsmanlike flags and the star of the night’s best meme.

Extremely Egg Bowl.

Thus ends yet another surprising, vicious, and messy edition of America’s frequently most surprising, vicious, and messy rivalry.

Fourth quarter

Ole Miss 31, MSU 28, 1:05. Lol, never give up on the Egg Bowl! The Rebels recover the onside kick, though.

Ole Miss 31, MSU 21, 4:58. Clanga’s best drive of the night, capped by a 30-yard Kylin Hill TD run up the right sideline, plus an unsportsmanlike flag on Ole Miss for yappin’ in the end zone. On brand. MSU also hit the two-point conversion with a Keytaon Thompson keeper on an apparent busted play.

Ole Miss 31, MSU 13, 8:24. The Bulldogs came inches shy of legally recovering an onside kick, but right after, Ole Miss’ Jordan Wilkins broke a 46-yard run right up the middle to hit 110 on the day, and that might do it.

Ole Miss 24, MSU 13, 9:16. Not much had happened since the dog pee, until Deddrick Thomas scored to complete an eight-play State drive. Also, the Egg Bowl trophy has been spotted in its rightful resting place.

Strange place to store the Egg Bowl trophy in Starkville. Between a hot dog warmer and coffee pots. http://pic.twitter.com/yUyul65loE

— Pat Smith (@patsmithradio) November 24, 2017

Third quarter

Ole Miss 24, MSU 6, 2:15. D.K. Metcalf battled for a jump ball and took it 63 yards for a TD that’ll probably lace this one up, then hit the Bulldogs with an Odell Beckham-style dog pee celebration, drawing a 15-yard flag.

Ole Miss 17, MSU 6, 5:53. Good heavens, State turnover No. 5 comes on a strip of Jordan Thomas after a rare pass completion (MSU’s 5-of-12 passing). This one’s nearing a wrap.

Ole Miss 17, MSU 6, 7:13. Jordan Ta’amu found a wide-open A.J. Brown for a 77-yarder, despite a holding penalty on the defense. Brown’s up to 167 yards with 22 minutes still to go. Basically a 10-point swing in three plays. The local reaction to the Starkville native’s TD:

A Starkville Chamber of Commerce welcome for AJ Brown http://pic.twitter.com/GM3zWcn5aE

— [Escort 69] (@BunkiePerkins) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, 7:53. We’re up to four Bulldog turnovers after Keytaon Thompson, the freshman QB who’s having to carry this entire offense, fumbled on a third-and-4 run in the red zone.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, 11:30. After Keytaon Thompson broke a 31-yard run up the right sideline, a dropped pass with some uncalled Ole Miss pass interference set up a second-and-long, and two stops forced a punt. Downed at the 1, though. Some good news for everybody: injured State QB Nick Fitzgerald returned to the sidelines to cheer on his team.

Second quarter

Ole Miss 10, MSU 6, halftime. After three Mississippi State turnovers, one Ole Miss turnover, 12 total penalties, two pregame scuffles, and a horrific QB injury (MSU’s Nick Fitzgerald), the Bulldogs score again thanks to some loose Ole Miss defense right before the buzzer.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, :57. Turnover No. 4 of the first half, finally in MSU’s favor, as Jordan Ta'amu was strip-sacked by Erroll Thompson.

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, 1:22. MSU’s in some real trouble now, with turnover No. 3 coming on a fumble by Keytaon Thompson in Bulldog territory. Breeland Speaks found the ball and the camera:

http://pic.twitter.com/nNsmZpV0od

— SB Nation CFB (@SBNationCFB) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 3, 6:24. Bulldogs on the board after a drive highlighted by a 16-yard Keytaon Thompson run. MSU ran seven times and threw just once on the drive, a ratio we might expect to continue as the freshman continues on the biggest stage he’s yet faced. Meanwhile, on the sideline:

Just got hit in the head with ice. Thought it’d be colder so I do have an extra layer on... could use some refreshment I guess.

— OleMissPix (@OleMissPix) November 24, 2017

Ole Miss 10, MSU 0, 10:40. A couple State flags and a 29-yard run by Jordan Wilkins set up an easy field goal.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 12:08. So we just had a punt blocked by the Bulldogs’ Jeffery Simmons ... and then an immediate airmail of an INT from new MSU QB Keytaon Thompson to C.J. Moore.

First quarter

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 2:38. After a Rebel punt, new MSU QB Keytaon Thompson peeled off a 33-yard run on his first snap. That was about that for that drive, though.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 9:08. Bulldogs QB Nick Fitzgerald suffered an awful leg injury and was carted off, with both sidelines kneeling in silence. He’s replaced by Keytaon Thompson, a former four-star quarterback out of New Orleans from the class of 2017

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 9:51. CLANGA gets its first win, with a false start leading to Ole Miss’ A.J. Brown landing just shy of a first down. Punt!

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 11:15. A nine-play Bulldog drive was cut short when Myles Hartsfield leaped to pick off Nick Fitzgerald at the Ole Miss 38. Perfect start for the Rebels.

Ole Miss 7, MSU 0, 14:22. A 58-yard heave from Jordan Ta’amu to A.J. Brown and a 22-yard Jordan Wilkins run up the middle, and the underdogs strike first.

Pregame

So much for hugs folks. The Royal Rumble has begun in Starkville. Cooler heads prevailed for now. http://pic.twitter.com/dcSbT8fhJ3

— Joel Coleman (@JoelTColeman) November 23, 2017

Leo Lewis just walked towards the Ole Miss side of the field and blew a kiss in the direction of the Rebel players during warm-ups.

— Robby Donoho III (@RobbyDonoho) November 23, 2017

Lewis is, of course, the star MSU linebacker who’s made a hobby of trolling the Rebels on Twitter and is currently in the middle of the NCAA’s investigation into Ole Miss.

Another dustup:

Not even kickoff and the #EggBowl is already chippy! http://pic.twitter.com/VZPNONYY9B

— RedditCFB (@RedditCFB) November 24, 2017

Preview

There’s only one college football game to get you through Thanksgiving on Thursday — and it’s some classic in-state hate. The No. 14 Mississippi State Bulldogs can continue its march toward the top 10 by beating their rivals, the Ole Miss Rebels, on turkey day. The 114th edition of the Egg Bowl will take place Thursday night at 7:30 p.m. ET; the game will be broadcast live on ESPN (live stream).

It’s the first Thanksgiving Egg Bowl since 2013, reviving a minor tradition in the state rivalry.

The Bulldogs have been solid but unspectacular in 2017. With eight wins they are ranked No. 16 in the College Football Playoff rankings, but they’ve only beaten one ranked team — a crushing 37-7 victory over LSU — in that span. The Rebels haven’t been as fortunate. Their rebuilding season after Hugh Freeze’s resignation has sputtered to a 5-6 record before Thursday’s season finale in Starkville. Even a win on Thanksgiving won’t keep Ole Miss’s 2017 alive — the scandal that forced Freeze out of Oxford also led to a bowl ban this winter.

Time, TV channel, and streaming info

Time: 7:30 p.m. ET

Location: Scott Field, Starkville, Miss.

TV: ESPN

Streaming: WatchESPN

Odds: Mississippi State is favored by 15 points.

Ole Miss vs. Mississippi State news:

This year, these teams even have NCAA beef. The long investigation into the Rebels has wrapped up Leo Lewis, a star Bulldogs linebacker.

Mississippi State beat Arkansas last week in a game only notable for likely getting Bret Bielema fired.

After a 14-point early lead, Arkansas couldn’t hold on against Mississippi State and fell, 28-21. This TD with seconds left was the nail in the coffin for the Razorbacks. It now guarantees a losing season for Arkansas, and this is likely the final nail in Bielema’s coffin as well.

The Hogs have had a knack for being punchy when it seems Bielema’s back is against the wall. And it’s never been more against the wall than it was right here.

Even if you’re not an Ole Miss fan, you’ve got to like what A.J. Smith is doing.

Nick Fitzgerald isn’t consistent at all for Mississippi State, but he comes through when it matters.

Fitz is the Jekyll and Hyde that everyone loves to pick apart and this game did nothing to change that. For 3.5 quarters, Fitz struggled to find his rhythm and could not break loose running the ball. Yet when crunch time hit in the fourth, he came up big with some clutch throws, including the two touchdowns, and that last one was a picture-perfect throw. The enigma that is Fitz continues to perplex Bulldogs everywhere but we happily accept the Ws he provides.

So who’s gonna be Mississippi’s next head coach? Mike Norvell? Willie Taggart?

The second-year man for the Tigers has done an incredible job following up Justin Fuente’s final two-year hurrah in the Bluff City (19-7 record, finished No. 25 in AP poll in 2014). His lone year at the head of the Memphis program, his Tigers went 8-5, finished third in the AAC and made it to a bowl game. The intriguing thing about Norvell is his high-powered offense, ability to coach a quarterback, and recruiting success at a Group of 5 program, primarily in Mississippi.

Can Mississippi State really be a top-10 team?

The Bulldogs are barrelling toward 10 wins and a coveted spot in the final top-10 rankings, but a dearth of quality wins could keep them from climbing into the FBS’s top tier. Beating a middling Ole Miss team won’t do much for their resume, but would put Mississippi State in line for a prime bowl game — and the opportunity to prove it’s a top-10 program.

Ole Miss vs. Mississippi State prediction:

The Bulldogs have more to play for, and there’s no way the players don’t know this may be their last rivalry game with Dan Mullen as their head coach. Emotions will be high, but Mississippi State will make it two Egg Bowl wins in a row.