#linda x mary

[presley4president]

“He was the most gorgeous man I think that God ever created. His skin was perfect, his nose was perfect, he was like a Greek God. I remember lying awake at night sometimes and just staring at his face.”

- Linda Thompson

[beatleswings]

PAUL and LINDA McCARTNEY at Les Ambassadors Club in London at the wrap party for THE MAGIC CHRISTIAN. May 4, 1969.

[modernmanblues]

chances

CH 5: CHEAP THRILLS

plot: American photographer Leah Walker is ecstatic when she's presented with the opportunity to spend the summer of 1975 in Stockport, UK to take photographs of local English groups. Given her history of taking photos of big acts such as The Rolling Stones and The Doors, she is taken by surprise when told that her first clients will be the up and coming Manchester-based group, 10cc, who have kept a low-profile until recently, after gaining worldwide stardom from their hit I'm Not In Love. Leah knows little about the group and gets acquainted fairly quickly, but what she doesn't know is how much trouble she's about to get herself into with the group's beloved lead guitarist, Eric Stewart. She has all summer, come to think of it. The possibilities are endless.

themes: Eric Stewart, distressed about a girl (oh boy), fluff fest!, girl talk, rockstar children, cheeky, playful, cross dressing, consumption of alcohol, cigarettes and cocaine, pain and agony associated with a close encounter with…death

a/n: In life, our actions can sometimes have consequences. Most times, these consequences do not cause any long-term damage but other times they can, unfortunately, be dire and cause serious ramifications.

“Oh, Kevin..this is too much for me..he doesn’t deserve this..he is too young..too young..”

“Could you give a background on your photography experience..er..Miss?”

“Leah?” Eric gazes at me with his wondrous brown doe eyes, smiling at me meekly.

I am still in a trance given that I am seated next to, dare I say, one of the most enigmatic people known to mankind.

“Are you alright, Leah?” Eric reels me into him gently as he hooks me with his arm, squeezing my shoulder ever so prudently.

“What?” I manage to bring myself back to the present and meeting Eric’s eyes, I peer into them. Something about his eyes, and the way he looks at me somehow exonerate me from all my worries and fears. I would even go as far as saying that they provide me what one would describe as, divine solace. 

“Paul’s asked you a question.” Eric smiles at me timidly.

“Oh. Right. Um..well first off, I am greatly honored to meet you, Sir Paul..or do you just go by Paul these days?” I feel a lump going down my throat. I do my best to act natural. But gosh, it’s not everyday you get to sit and have a friendly chat with Paul McCartney of The Beatles.

“Paul is fine, love.” he declares casually.

  “Alright, Paul.” I smile sheepishly as my eyes travel from Eric then back to Paul. I carry on providing a brief statement about my repertoire.   

“I graduated photography school in New York City. It was a four-year program. My parents weren’t too happy about it as they had wanted me to go into law school but, they were supportive of my decision and now here I am today doing..” I take a quick pause. I notice how Eric hasn’t peeled his gaze since I’ve begun talking. I smile at him briefly then turn my attention back to Paul, “..the one thing I am so passionate about.” 

The two sit quietly, seemingly eager to listen to my saga. I carry on.

“Anyway, I’ve been doing professional photography for about five years now. Mainly taking photos of local musicians and groups. However, I have worked with a handful of big names in my experience.” I spit out that last sentence with gentle pride as I briefly reminisce on that moment of my life. I smile at the thought.  

“Wow…” Eric murmurs, raising an eyebrow subtly.

“That’s wonderful, Leah. You know Linda, my wife, she does photography professionally as well. She’s taken a long hiatus from it, though. You know..ever since she started touring with me..our group, Wings.” He takes a puff from his cigarette, then blows a cloud of smoke away from our faces, “..then came the babies, of course.” He chuckles, leaning into Eric playfully.

“Geez Paul, it seems poor Linda’s been popping them out like nobody’s business!” Eric shakes his head jokingly, then resumes peering into my eyes. I find myself mimicking his rather dainty smile.

I let out a faint gasp as he brings his hand next to my face and sweeps a lock of my hair behind my ear. He leans into me and mutters, “we have unfinished business.”

He speaks cryptically. Understandably so, given our recent short stint with…a strawberry, the forbidden fruit. 

I notice the subtle, devious smirk on his face as he peels away from me, and it takes me a brief moment to mentally process his subliminal remark. I raise an eyebrow at him to silently acknowledge him. The mind games with him are becoming second nature to me. Muscle memory, so it seems.

“Well you know we’ve been thinking about having two more, Eric.” Paul asserts.

“Are you really? That sounds lovely.” Eric returns his attention to Paul, smiling at him boyishly.

“What about you, Eric? Do you plan on giving Dieta a brother or sister?”

Eric immediately darts his head towards me. “I don’t know. What do you think, Leah?”

My eyes widen in a deer-in-headlights sort of way. A lump forms in my throat. I tensely clear my windpipe. My face feels slightly flushed. Why the hell would he ask me this? I glance at him from the corner of my eye.

“Well that’s not up to me, Eric.” I mutter to him.

We are suddenly approached by a woman with strawberry blonde hair accompanied by a very young girl with jet black hair. Her eyes, with hues of dark blue and green, perfectly complement her gorgeous youthful face.

“Oh good you found him, you know we’ve been looking all over for you, silly!” the woman gives Paul a quick peck on the cheek, “Mary and I got you fried plantains, as a treat.”

“Here you go, daddy!” the young girl presents Paul with a brown paper bag.

“Oh sweetheart, bless you.” Paul plants a gentle kiss on the girl’s forehead and brushes her hair with ease.

“Eric..” the blonde woman walks over to Eric and embraces him, gently patting him on his back. 

“Lind..oh, I’ve missed you both dearly. How have you been?” Eric smiles meekly through his sentence, enclosing his arms around her.

“Well I should ask you that question! What have you been up to lately, champ?” the woman exclaims matter-of-factly.

They strip away from each other, exchanging delighted expressions.

“Oh you know, busy as usual.” Eric states nonchalantly. It is evident that he and this woman are close acquaintances.

I have to admire his modesty despite all, what I imagine, he has accomplished as a professional.

“I see that. All that hard work has finally paid off, hasn’t it Mr. Gold?” she nudges him playfully.” 

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without Graham, Lol and Kev.” Eric says humbly.

He shifts his head towards me, his charming doe eyes glinting against the interior lighting.

“Anyway Linda, I’d like you to meet Leah. A fellow photographer. She’s American as well.” He turns to me, his aura bright and exuberant. “Leah, meet my dear friend and Paul’s sweetheart, the great Linda McCartney.”

THE Linda McCartney?!  I’ll be damned, who else am I going to meet today, Diane Keaton?!

She scurries over towards me briskly and scoops me in her arms, taking me aback slightly.

“Oh thank heavens you exist! I thought I was never going meet a fellow Yank in these parts!” she exclaims with sheer enthusiasm, her mild southern drawl sneaking through.

 “Well, I’m here.” I shrug, smiling at her timidly. “Such a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. McCartney. I am a huge fan of your work.”

I give her a gentle pat on the back.  We peel away from each other and carry on with introductions.

“Pleasure is mine. I love inspiring young, bright-eyed and bushy tailed photographers. Trust me, I’ve been where you are.”

“It’s not always easy, let me tell you.” I confess matter-of-factly.

“Well that’s with any job, sweetheart. But of course if you love what you do, the whole experience won’t even feel like a job to you.” The most comforting words that I wish my own mother would say to me.

“Alright. We’ll let you girls get acquainted. Eric, would you like to go for a stroll with Mary and I?” Paul hoists himself up from his seat. He seems adamant about giving Linda and I some girl time.

Eric glances at me then cranes his head back to Paul. He tenses his jaw.

“Sounds lovely, Paul. Let’s give these girls some time to themselves, hm?”

I take note of how Mary leans her head against Paul’s hip, biting her nails anxiously as she gazes at me. I smile at her timidly, and she immediately scurries behind her father. She pokes her head out a smidge and maintains her gaze on me. I wave at her daintily, which makes her grin bashfully. She nestles her face against Paul’s shirt and I am reminded of little Dieta. Speaking of which, I wonder how she and the guys are doing?

Eric gets up from his seat and standing in front of me, he closes the gap between us. He clasps my hand delicately, then brings it up to his face and plants a gentle kiss on my knuckle, a sweet gesture of his that I have grown accustomed to. He returns my hand.

“Don’t get lost please.” he utters playfully.

“And if I do, what are you going to do about it, hm?” I mirror his humor. I protrude my chin at him teasingly.

Our eyes stay fixed on each other. His faint smile complements his juvenile profile. “Well I wouldn’t have earned the nickname, Sherlock Holmes if I wasn’t so brilliant at finding things that have been lost. I’d wear that hat for the day, if that ever happened. You know, because it would concern, you.”  

“Aren’t you being a bit dramatic, Eric?”  chuckle, rolling my eyes at him jokingly.

“Why do you always roll your eyes at me?”

“Because you are always so dramatic!” I scoff.   

“Eric?” Paul calls out, raising an eyebrow.

“Right. Er...Lind? Look after her, please? She’s not from around here.” Eric sounds seemingly concerned.

“Eric, relax. She is in good hands with me.” Linda’s tone is reassuring.

Paul gently tugs Eric by the arm, breaking our hold.

“We’ll see you back at the studio!” Paul yells out, raking Eric into his arm while gently grasping Mary’s hand on his opposite side. “Come, Mary darling.”

“Where are we going, daddy?” the child gazes up at her father with wonder.

“You, me and your Uncle Eric are going to go for a walk now. Is that alright?”

Mary looks to her mother then back to Paul.

“Mummy’s not coming with us then, is she?” she furrows her brows.

“Mummy’s going to spend time with her friend now. We’ll see her a bit later, alright?” Paul’s tone is reassuring enough for the girl.

“Mmm, okay..” Mary smiles at him cheekily.

Eric shifts his head over to face Linda and I. He gazes at me with deep concern, then carries on facing forward. We watch as the lot of them disappear amidst the hordes of people in the market.

“That’s my husband for ya, always so bossy...” Linda states jokingly. “Anyway, shall we ladies go for a little stroll ourselves?”

 “Okay, sure.”

I hoist myself up from my seat and wave goodbye to Pietro. My eyes widen at the empty plate before me. I hadn’t been paying much attention at how well Eric devoured that plate of spaghetti. Goodness gracious, the guy must’ve been starving!

“Pietro, graze on behalf of Eric and I. Your food was mighty delicious!”

I only half-heartedly participated in feasting on that plate, but I was lucky enough to have a taste. Authentically Italian.

 “Of course. You and Ferrari, come anytime. Ciao, bella.” he states adoringly.

“Ciao.” I wave goodbye and just before I walk away, I notice the bag of strawberries on the counter. I clutch it quickly, then proceed to march off with Linda.

 We slowly make our way through the bustling aisles, heading towards the exit.

“What’s in the bag, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Oh this!” I snicker, “um..just strawberries Eric bought from one of the stands earlier. He wanted me to try one. Made such as big fuss about it.”  

We stroll along in silence for a brief moment, then she decides to initiate small talk.

“So whereabouts in the States do you live, Leah?” 

“New York City. Brooklyn. Born and raised.  

She darts her head towards me, her ocean blue eyes expanding.

“Well isn’t this world just getting smaller?! I was born and raised in New York myself! Boy, do I have some fond memories running around the streets of Brooklyn,” she reminisces, “what’s Brooklyn like these days?”

“Crazy. I mean, you’ve been there. Streets are always jammed, people have no manners. Everyone seems to go about their day mindlessly. Honestly, it was getting a bit too much for me, so I’m glad I took this job for the summer. I like Stockport. It’s so…quiet here. It’s refreshing, really.” I smile at her sheepishly.

“New York hasn’t changed one bit from the sound of it, has it? You know, Stockport’s become one of mine and Paul’s favorite little towns. We come up here occasionally on the weekends when Paul has himself booked to work at Strawberry. A little more peace and quiet for him, you know?

“Yeah, I’ll say.” I concur.

She smiles at me gleefully. We walk in silence for a brief moment, then she decides to break the ice.

“Alright, let’s just cut to the chase.” she declares.

My eyes shoot towards her, my brows furrowing in bewilderment.

“What do you mean, Mrs. McCartney?”

“Oh please. Call me Linda.”

“Okay���Linda.” A tiny smile spreads across my face.

“What do you think about Eric? I saw the way you looked at each other…there was definitely something there.” she smiles at me adoringly. Her bright aura provides solace.

“Um…” I let out a nervous laugh. I feel my face growing warm.

“Come on, we’re both girls here. We can tell each other anything. This would just be between you and I, Leah. Promise.” She has such a way with words.

“Do you mean from a photographer’s point of vi—”

“No Leah, what do you think of him?” Her tone is different this time. She is searching for a confession.

My face feels flushed. I cup my hand against my cheek and evidently, I feel the temperature on my face rising. I clear my throat and fix myself.

“Eric is quite the charmer, isn’t he?” I gaze at the blonde eagerly.

We approach the exit and reach the main quarter of town. We ignore the bustling crowd as we continue our banter, walking aimlessly.

“Yes. He certainly is. You know, Paul and I have been trying to get him to come out more and meet new people. This past year especially, he’s been a hermit working at that gosh darn studio. He almost never takes a day off. We think he needs a woman’s attention for a change.” She is straight to the point, and does not beat around the bush. I appreciate this woman’s audacity.

“And is that supposed to magically fix his problems?” I chortle with amusement.

“No, absolutely not, “ she darts her eyes towards me, “you know..I don’t think I’m supposed to tell you this but, he’s talked awfully lot about you. He’s very fond of you, I can tell.” 

I shoot my gaze towards her, gaping at her with eager eyes.

“What has he said about me?...if you wouldn’t mind sharing, of course.” This has piqued my interest.

“Well he and Paul talk almost everyday. Those two are inseparable, like two peas in a pod. They tell each other everything.” She scoffs, rolling her eyes playfully.

“Is that right?” I prod her to disclose further.

“This past week especially, we’ve noticed that Eric has been…beside himself. It’s one of the reasons Paul and I decided to come up here this weekend. But now, I see why he’s been acting a bit strange.” She beams at me, pursing her lips.

“I beg your pardon Linda but, I would still like to know what he has said about me.”

She comes to a halt, prompting me to do the same. She shifts her gaze from one side of the street to another, then peers into my eyes.

“Come with me.”

She clasps my hand gently and drags me towards a quiet street corner. I am eager to know what she has to say.

“Leah..I think Eric has very strong feelings for you.” She smiles at me brightly.

I widen my gaze at her. I feel another lump traveling down my throat. My jaw tenses.

“How do you mean, Linda?”

“I mean the guy hasn’t stopped talking about you! Lately, all he’s ever spoken to us about is how he hasn’t stopped thinking about a certain girl. He says this girl is simply wonderful and organic and was adamant about us meeting her. And today we are fortunate to finally be acquainted with this lovely young lady.”

She shovels me into her with one arm, gently patting me on the shoulder. I am at a loss for words. My mind has gone a bit fuzzy.

“..we are just so happy he’s found you,” she resumes, “we haven’t seen him this happy since, you know…before the divorce.”

There’s that word again. Divorce.

“Leah? Are you alright?” She furrows her brows, gazing at me with concern.

 “I’m sorry, Linda. I just…I’m trying to take this all in.” I blink at her nervously.

“Hmph, well at least that’s off my chest. What do you say we head back to the studio? Hopefully we’ll catch Mary and the boys in the nick of time.”

“Sounds like a plan.”

*********************************************************

“It’s called a gizmotron. Gizmo for short. ” Lol plays a simple note to demonstrate the function of the device.

I struggle to conceal my laughter. He, Graham and Kevin are all back at the studio and are now dressed in women’s clothes. I study the clever application of blue eyeshadow and light foundation on Lol’s face. His hoop earrings shine against the interior lighting as he allows them to dangle with every head moment.

“I’m sorry, Lol but I have to say..you look absolutely fabulous in your attire.” I peer at him with a toothy grin.

“Mm..Thank. You.” He chirps in his impressive falsetto, batting his eyelashes at me.

“Get a hold of yourself..” Graham sneers disdainfully, nudging Lol with his elbow.

I hear the sound of the front door opening.

“The troop has landed!” Paul’s voice echoes across the room.

“Honey, we’re hoomee..” Eric’s sing-songy, mancunian brogue channels through the studio.

“Daddy?” Dieta gasps, her eyes widening.

“Dieta?” Mary’s wanders deeper into the studio. Her hazel eyes look on to Dieta wondrously.

“Mary!” Dieta gasps as her gaze meets Mary’s.

The girls run towards each other ecstatically, colliding into a massive embrace.

“Alright, slow down girls.” Paul warns.

He and Eric step into the studio carrying bouquets of flowers.

“You will come downstairs to the studio with me, won’t you Mary?” Dieta gazes at Mary eagerly.

“Why yes of course!” Mary sounds elated.

“Come! Come! I want to show you something.” Dieta begins to walk towards the staircase leading down to the basement and Mary follows behind her.

“And just where do you two think you are going?” Eric follows the girls, raising an eyebrow at them.

“I wanted Mary to have a listen to my song daddy, is that alright?” Dieta gazes up at Eric.

“Yes, but please remember to be careful of the controls.” He gently reminds the girls.

Dieta’s jaw drops to the floor as she ogles at the lovely bouquet of peonies her father is holding.

“Are those for me, daddy?” the girl gazes up at Eric with a bright affect.

Eric doesn’t say a word and instead, he winks at his daughter.

“Oohhh…” Dieta giggles. “..right, we’ll be downstairs then.”

“Be. Careful.” Eric warns Dieta once more.

The girl sticks her little tongue out at Eric playfully. Her mischievous giggle becomes more faint as she travels further down the steps with Mary.

Eric laughs coolly, shaking his head. He turns his head to face me, and our eyes meet. He takes the short leisure stride towards me, maintaining his gaze on mine. 

“Hello again.” His tender voice tickles my eardrums.

“Again? Have we met before?” I smile at him cheekily.

“No. This would be the first time.” He plays along. His smile is infectious. “Anyway, these are for you.”

He hands me the bouquet of peonies and I accept them despite the slight pang of hesitation in me.

“Eric, you shouldn’t have…”

My eyes shift from the flowers then back to him. I reach over and plant a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you. These are beautiful.”

“You mean, like you?” he gives me a smug look.

“I can tell they gave you a nice rehearsal befo—”

“Hmph..” Graham walks up to Eric and I with a scornful expression.

Eric’s takes one good look at Graham’s attire and the impressive cosmetic work on his face, then immediately bursts into laughter.

“Eh, what happened to you?! Why are you dressed in drag?” Eric exclaims, gathering himself.

“We lost a bet to a nine year old.” Graham maintains his glare on Eric. “And you happen to be that nine year old’s father so I am holding you responsible.”

Kevin waltzes his way towards us and loiters next to Graham.

“Personally, I think this look suits us. Graham doesn’t know what he’s talking about.” He shakes his thick, luscious curls before us pompously, then takes a quick hit from his cigarette, and blows a steady stream of smoke.

“Did Dee put you on to this then?” Eric chuckles, barely hiding his amusement.

“It was our fault, really. We shouldn’t have made a bet with a nine year old. That was our first mistake.”

“Mind if I join this little communion?” Paul enters the circle. “What happened to the lot of you?” He cranes his head from Graham then towards Kevin.

“I was just asking them that.” Eric cackle.

“Would you wipe that silly grin off your face, Stewart?” Graham blurts out scornfully.

“Aw sweetheart…if it makes you feel any better, you look beautiful in my eyes.” Eric peers into Graham’s eyes with pure adoration.

“You little menace...” 

Graham tackles Eric then the two proceed to wrestle playfully.

“Graham. No. Please. Stop. I don’t hit women.” Eric teases, struggling to break free from Graham’s chokehold.

“Alright, go on. What other smart comments have you got in you, Stewart?! Why don’t you just fight me like a man?”

“Boys…boys…listen,” Paul announces, “Next train to Manchester leaves in about 30.”

Eric and Graham peel away from each other, both exchanging baffled looks.

“What’s he on about?” Eric mutters to Graham.

“Not a clue.”

“Eric? Remember what we talked about earlier?” Paul raises at eyebrow at Eric.

“Oh. Right. Er…everyone, Paul and I were wondering if any of you would be interested in going out clubbing in Manchester tonight.”

“Oh yeah, I’m in.” Lol creeps in, resting his hands on his hips.

“Well hello, m’lady.” Eric chirps, ogling Lol from head to toe.

Paul wolf whistles with unrestrained exuberance, delighted by the sight of the beautiful piece of art standing before him named Lol Creme.

“Do you boys fancy my hoop earrings?” Lol exclaims in his trademark falsetto, moving his head side to side to dangle his jewelry.

Eric and Paul clap jovially in unison. They take turns whistling and shouting praises at Lol. The guy is such a sport for playing along. I stand quietly as I observe the way this whole circus act plays out.

It’s not long before the group disperses and Eric and I are once again left to our own devices. I marvel at this stunning bouquet of peonies I have been cradling since Eric bestowed it upon me.

“Thank you again for these flowers, Eric. They look wonderful.” I beam at him graciously.

“My pleasure, love.” His feeble smile instills warm energy in my core.

“Anyway, would you like to come out with us? I would love it if you came along.” He begs with his eyes.

“Well..it is getting a bit late, and I’ve got a session booked for tomorrow morning.”

“Come onn…please? One night won’t hurt, will it? Can’t you reschedule the session? You will have a good time. I promise.” He carries on pleading, trying his hand at everything to convince me.

I ponder the feasibility of joining tonight’s festivities, and the consequences of canceling tomorrow’s session. Come to think of it, I can always ask my apprentice to cover for me. I could use a little fun on a Friday night, I suppose.

“I’ll think about it..but if I am going out, I had better find something more suitable to wear.”

Eric examines my attire from head to toe then meets my eyes again, smirking.

“I think whatever you’ve got on is fine.”

“Please, I insist. Would you swing by my place in an hour? I’ll have a decision by then.” I am straight to the point.  

“Right, okay. Your place. In an hour. Sounds like a plan.” He sounds elated.

*********************************************************

We find ourselves at this versatile nightclub called Fagin’s right in the heart of Manchester. An hour into our rendezvous and already, our adrenaline is picking up. We are joined by the wives of Kevin, Lol and Graham. Our guests of honor are of course, The McCartneys. There is perpetual chatter all around me, and the music is blaring in the background. To say that I am a bit overwhelmed is an understatement.

Eric is on his third line, but his behavior has become quickly erratic. My gut tells me that he might have done a few more lines prior to us coming here. He wipes the white powder residue from his nose with the back of his thumb. He looks at me with a smug expression. The sunamagun looks so proud of himself, I ought to slap him.

“Leah. Leah. Leah. Leah..it’s your turn, my darling. Your turn. Make me proud. Just do it. Do it please.” He slurs his speech, and it’s only getting worse. I begin to worry about him. 

“Eric...I don’t think this is a good idea—”

“Just one line. That’s all I’m asking, my love.” He leans into my ear and murmurs, “it’s going to change your life…”

He nuzzles his nose against my face. He smells of bourbon, cigarettes and aftershave.

“Mmm..would do you it for me please, beautiful? And we can go dancing after if you want.” I can feel him smiling against my face. He feels warm to touch.

I examine the line of white powder sitting before me. I decide to go for it, but just before I do, I take a swig of whiskey from my shot glass. I take a deep breath in, then out. Here goes nothing..I lean closer to the glass table then proceed to inhale the white power swiftly, closing one nostril with my finger, then I sit back up. I am immediately hit with a rush of adrenaline, my heart feels like it’s about to jump out of my chest. I feel every pulsation against my head and neck. I can feel my blood rushing through my veins. My mood is uplifted, and my body is craving movement. The effects of cocaine are hitting me harder than I thought.                

“How do you feel?” Eric searches for my eyes, grinning like a chesire cat.

“I thought you said we were going dancing?” I raise my brow at him, tilting my head to the side playfully.

“Well why didn’t you say something sooner, madame? Come along then.”         

He stands erect, then snatches my hand and we march towards a staircase leading down to the basement. The music grows increasingly louder as we traverse deeper down this dark structure. I notice every pulsation thumping against my temples with each beat that collides my eardrums. My heart is knocking against my chest. I walk to match Eric’s stride to distract myself from thinking about every sensation.

Eric leans his elbow against the bar counter with undeniable suave. He fixes his gaze on me, his smirk is criminal.

“Can I get you a drink?” His smirk darkens.

“Whiskey. On the rocks. Please and thank you.” I mirror his sultry expression without peeling my gaze off him.

Eric makes eye contact with the bartender and responds to cue. He marches towards us.

“Two whiskeys on the rocks please.” Eric declares to the man.

“Coming right up, sir.” The bartender nods and scuttles towards the liquor display.

Eric narrows the gap between us, and I watch as the bartender effortlessly prepares our drinks. He returns with our beverages and places the glasses gently on the counter.

“Two whiskeys on the rocks. Enjoy.” He smiles at us cunningly.

We each take a glass and, as if muscle memory, we clink our glasses gently.

“Cheers, Walker.” His dark smirk broadens.

“Cheers to you, Stewart. Here’s to…your award.” I complement his smirk.

“Why thank you. I appreciate that.” He twists his lips into a smile.   

On the train ride to Manchester tonight, Eric finally shared with me how he and the group won a gold disc for their most recent album titled “The Original Soundtrack.” He had given me a copy of the vinyl earlier and I am looking forward to listening to it. If it won gold, it must be really good.

Suddenly, a familiar tune comes on. One would immediately recognize it from the first few seconds. It takes me a brief moment to remember the song title. Like a clairvoyant, Eric provides an answer.

“Lady Marmalade. La Belle. Shall we dance, m’lady?” He inquires politely, carefully snaking his long, skinny fingers through mine.

“It would be an honor.” I smile caressingly at him.

We take a massive gulp of our beverage, then head on to our mission. He leads me onto the dance floor where everyone and their mother is gathered. I watch as three women with beautiful, healthy afros wearing silver sequin dresses move to the groove. Their harmonies are absolutely stunning. I allow my body to move to the rhythm of the song, and Eric attempts to match my movements.

“I didn’t know you were quite the dancer, Walker. I’m impressed.” He chuckles, swaying from side to the side, seemingly invigorated.

“I can say the same about you.” I smile at him gingerly.

He closes the gap between us. This man is like a furnace but in human form, the way he emits an incredible amount of heat. We step into each other, one foot opposite the other’s. Then suddenly, Eric begins to lose his balance.

“Why I feel so fun..my chest..hurting..” His speech is barely comprehensible. He clutches onto his chest, wincing.

He falls into me and I catch him in my arms in the nick of time. His entire body feels limp. I lower him carefully onto the floor.

“Eric? Eric?!! Are you okay?! Eric Stewart!…” I shout over the music.

I kneel adjacent to his comatose body, hovering over him with a concern expression on my face.

“Eric! Wake up!” I shout once again, and I begin to get choked up as grim thoughts settle in my mind.  

I give his shoulder several hard taps, but he is not responding. I shake him around vigorously and still, no response. His chest is not moving, and my worst fear dawns on me when I check the pulse in his neck and I feel nothing. My adrenaline immediately kicks in. I quickly rip his white button down shirt open to expose his bare chest, and immediately resuscitate him.

“Help! Please! Oh dear God please, someone help me! My husband is not waking up!” I yell out to the crowd who now have their eyes on me as I struggle to resuscitate.

“Eric..come on, baby. Stay with me.” I am almost choking through my words as tears begin to trick down my cheeks.

“Ma’am, the paramedics are here!” A young man calls out.

Despite the tears streaming down my face, I maintain my gaze on Eric and continue to compress his chest purposefully. His face is growing paler, the rosy appearance of his cheeks is gradually dwindling away. His lips, what were once a vibrant pink, have now turned a touch purple. I maintain compressions as my tears fall onto his chest.

Suddenly, by the grace of heaven, the paramedics roll in in an orderly fashion. They have brought with them their emergency equipment.

A female paramedic taps me on the shoulder.

 “Ma’am, excellent job on compressions! But we’ll need you to step aside. We’ll take over from here.” She states matter-of-factly.

I follow their direction, and hoist myself up then stand back. I allow the squadron to perform their duties. I watch as one of the personnel delivers compressions and the other prepares to shock him. I observe another staff attempt to insert, what appears to be, an intravenous line in his hand.

“All clear please!” the female paramedic calls out.

The squad clears the space as the woman delivers a shock. Eric’s body jolts as she delivers the shock. I peel away from the scene as I cannot bear to watch another second of it.

“What the bloody hell is going on here?!” Kevin’s eyes widen as he watches this atrocious scene unfold.

The rest of the crew begin to trickle in and watch in horror.

“Oh, Kevin..this is too much for me..he doesn’t deserve this..he is too young..too young..” I throw myself onto him, soaking his shirt with my tears.

“There, there now...Eric will be alright, darling. He is one of the strongest people I know..” His voice fades as he stares off into the distance, brushing my hair gently with his fingers.

Lol attempts to run towards the scene, but is reeled back by Graham.

“That’s my brother! Save him..save him, please! I beg you! Eric, Wake up! Wake up! Please..please…please…” Lol yells out, his voice squeaking as he sobs hysterically. There is pain and agony in his tone, it is disheartening. He buries his face into Graham’s chest.

Graham does his best to console Lol, who has gone hysterical. I notice the tears begin to trickle down his face.

“Eric will be okay. Eric will be okay. He’s a strong lad.” Graham chokes through his words as tears stream down his handsome face, gently caressing Lol’s back.

“We’ve got a pulse and a normal rhythm!” the female paramedic calls out.

The room has gone completely silent. No music to be heard. The only sound that can be heard is the quiet the chatter amongst the medical crew.

They’ve got Eric on oxygen and hooked up to all sorts of wires. The female paramedic walks up to me briskly.

“Erm..ma’am? Are you this man’s wife?” her question takes me aback slightly, but I must cater to how grave the situation is.

“Yes. Yes I am.” I say without hesitation, raising my head from Kevin’s chest.

Graham, Lol and Kevin seem unphased that I’ve just declared myself as Eric’s wife. Understandably, they are still a bit shaken up from everything that just happened. They stand dumbfounded.

“What is your husband’s name?” the woman inquires.

“Eric. Eric Stewart.” I say monotonously. I am truly at a loss for words.

“Mrs. Stewart, I’m sorry but we’re going to have to take Mr. Stewart to intensive care for observation. We need you to accompany him.”

Intensive care? What?

Lol and Graham rush towards us.  

“Can we come as well?” Lol is almost begging.

“Sorry sir, only immediate family members are allowed for now. You may ask to see him tomorrow.”

“We are his family, you know.” Lol chokes through words.

“Is Eric going to be alright?” Graham’s voice is shaking.

“Like I’ve said. We will have to take him to intensive care and monitor him for the night. For now, his vital signs are looking alright. We will take him to the nearest hospital. He will be in good hands.” The woman reassures the group.

Next thing I know, I am getting whisked away with Eric and the rest of the medical team in the ambulance. Once inside the vehicle, the grasp Eric’s clammy hand and caress it with my thumb. As soon as everyone’s settled in, we drive off immediately. I hear the siren going off.

“Everything’s going to be alright, Eric. We’re getting you sorted out. Everything’s going to be alright, everything’s going to be alright.” I murmur this mantra to him, sobbing as I give his hand a gentle squeeze.

The most important person in Eric’s life comes to mind at this moment.

“We have a nine year old daughter. She can’t afford to lose her father..it would crush her. I declare to the crew. “Oh please save my sweet darling Eric.” I sob hopelessly.

———————————————————————————

<<previous chapter next chapter>>

please visit my masterlist if you would like to see some of my other work :)

[inevitablemoment]

I'm impatient, so does anyone want to hear any Egon and Cathleen during her pregnancies headcanons?

*no one raises their hands* Okay, here we go... It's all under the cut.

As I've brought up before, Egon and Cathleen struggled to conceive, and Cathleen suffered a second-trimester miscarriage.

After some time to heal and take a break (as well as Cathleen's struggles with alcoholism), Cathleen becomes pregnant with Callie.

They're living in Cambridge at the time, as Egon is studying at MIT, so Cathleen rushes to the campus to tell Egon as soon as her doctor confirms it.

Egon is just... so happy. But he's also very scared, as he's afraid what a second miscarriage or a stillbirth would do to Cathleen, as well as losing another baby.

Cathleen deals with a lot of morning sickness during the first trimester and well into her fourth month. Egon tries various cures that he's either read about or learned from his mother and his sister-in-law, but the most that Cathleen can keep down are water and saltines.

Doctors' appointments are always a source of anxiety for the both of them, but they're always relieved when they hear their baby's heartbeat.

Cathleen steals a lot of Egon's clothes as she gets bigger. By her ninth month, she's usually curled up in bed with a pillow between her legs and swimming in his MIT sweatshirt.

They both KNOW that the baby's a girl, but they still refer to the baby in a gender neutral way throughout the pregnancy.

You KNOW that Egon goes deep into researching everything there is to know about pregnancy. He also keeps logs of Cathleen's symptoms and the size of her growing belly.

He reads about bonding with the baby while they're still in the womb, and talks to the belly before he leaves for the day and when he comes home. He reads aloud to the baby, and Cathleen plays music.

Cathleen mostly craves sweets during her pregnancy, with her favorite being her mother-in-law's recipe for brownies.

Cathleen is a week or two overdue when she finally goes into labor. As she and Egon are leaving for the hospital, her water breaks in the car. Labor is long and grueling, but it's all worth it in the end when Callie Violet Spengler is born.

Cathleen deals with some pretty rough postpartum depression for the first few months of Callie's life. She's convinced that Callie hates her, that Callie loves Egon more than her, and that she's a terrible mother. Thankfully, she has a good support system (especially since she went no contact with her side of the family) and is able to develop healthier coping mechanisms.

In the Cathleen Lives AU, Marie is a bit of a surprise.

Cathleen is 44, not to mention Callie was the only child that she had carried to term up to that point, so she and Egon assumed that their childbearing days were behind them.

So imagine how shocked Cathleen is when her doctor tells that it's not early menopause, she's pregnant.

It takes about a day for her to let it sink in before she tells Egon.

While Egon is just as shocked as her, he is very happy.

Callie, who is nearing her ninth birthday, is excited about the idea of a little brother or sister, which relieves her parents.

Surprisingly, despite being an older mother, this pregnancy seems to go off without a hitch. I mean, she still has awful morning sickness, but there's no dire health concerns.

During the events of Ghostbusters II, Cathleen is very close to her due date.

Egon is pretty concerned with her being out in the field, but she insists that she can take care of herself.

Eventually, the stress of being wrongfully committed and learning that Callie followed Dana to the museum is a factor in sending her into labor, and she has contractions throughout the night.

After Vigo's defeat, her water breaks and she confesses to Egon that she tried to hide that she was in labor.

While Egon is upset that she didn't tell him, that is quickly swept away by excitement and happiness.

An ambulance is waiting outside to take Cathleen to the hospital, and by the time they arrive, she's fully dilated.

Marie Rae Spengler is born half-past midnight on New Year's Day.

[kissandships]

I love seeing happy, married couples on tv

[thaoworra]

The Science Fiction and Fantasy Poetry Association recently released the poems that made it to the finalist stage for consideration for the 2024 Rhysling Awards for Short and Long Speculative Poems of the year. Congratulations to all of the nominees! This will be the 46th year these awards have been conferred!

Short Poems (50 finalists)

Attn: Prime Real Estate Opportunity!, Emily Ruth Verona, Under Her Eye: A Women in Horror Poetry Collection Volume II

The Beauty of Monsters, Angela Liu, Small Wonders 1

The Blight of Kezia, Patricia Gomes, HWA Poetry Showcase X

The Day We All Died, A Little, Lisa Timpf, Radon 5

Deadweight, Jack Cooper, Propel 7

Dear Mars, Susan L. Lin, The Sprawl Mag 1.2

Dispatches from the Dragon's Den, Mary Soon Lee, Star*Line 46.2

Dr. Jekyll, West Ambrose, Thin Veil Press December

First Eclipse: Chang-O and the Jade Hare, Emily Jiang, Uncanny 53

Five of Cups Considers Forgiveness, Ali Trotta, The Deadlands 31

Gods of the Garden, Steven Withrow, Spectral Realms 19

The Goth Girls' Gun Gang, Marisca Pichette, The Dread Machine 3.2

Guiding Star, Tim Jones, Remains to be Told: Dark Tales of Aotearoa, ed. Lee Murray (Clan Destine Press)

Hallucinations Gifted to Me by Heatstroke, Morgan L. Ventura, Banshee 15

hemiplegic migraine as willing human sacrifice, Ennis Rook Bashe, Eternal Haunted Summer Winter Solstice

Hi! I am your Cortical Update!, Mahaila Smith, Star*Line 46.3

How to Make the Animal Perfect?, Linda D. Addison, Weird Tales 100

I Dreamt They Cast a Trans Girl to Give Birth to the Demon, Jennessa Hester, HAD October

Invasive, Marcie Lynn Tentchoff, Polar Starlight 9

kan-da-ka, Nadaa Hussein, Apparition Lit 23

Language as a Form of Breath, Angel Leal, Apparition Lit October

The Lantern of September, Scott Couturier, Spectral Realms 19

Let Us Dream, Myna Chang, Small Wonders 3

The Magician's Foundling, Angel Leal, Heartlines Spec 2

The Man with the Stone Flute, Joshua St. Claire, Abyss & Apex 87

Mass-Market Affair, Casey Aimer, Star*Line 46.4

Mom's Surprise, Francis W. Alexander, Tales from the Moonlit Path June

A Murder of Crows, Alicia Hilton, Ice Queen 11

No One Now Remembers, Geoffrey Landis, Fantasy and Science Fiction Nov./Dec.

orion conquers the sky, Maria Zoccula, On Spec 33.2

Pines in the Wind, Karen Greenbaum-Maya, The Beautiful Leaves (Bamboo Dart Press)

The Poet Responds to an Invitation from the AI on the Moon, T.D. Walker, Radon Journal 5

A Prayer for the Surviving, Marisca Pichette, Haven Speculative 9

Pre-Nuptial, F. J. Bergmann, The Vampiricon (Mind's Eye Publications)

The Problem of Pain, Anna Cates, Eye on the Telescope 49

The Return of the Sauceress, F. J. Bergmann, The Flying Saucer Poetry Review February

Sea Change, David C. Kopaska-Merkel and Ann K. Schwader, Scifaikuest May

Seed of Power, Linda D. Addison, The Book of Witches ed. Jonathan Strahan (Harper Collins)

Sleeping Beauties, Carina Bissett, HWA Poetry Showcase X

Solar Punks, J. D. Harlock, The Dread Machine 3.1

Song of the Last Hour, Samuel A. Betiku, The Deadlands 22

Sphinx, Mary Soon Lee, Asimov's September/October

Storm Watchers (a drabbun), Terrie Leigh Relf, Space & Time

Sunflower Astronaut, Charlie Espinosa, Strange Horizons July

Three Hearts as One, G. O. Clark, Asimov's May/June

Troy, Carolyn Clink, Polar Starlight 12

Twenty-Fifth Wedding Anniversary, John Grey, Medusa's Kitchen September

Under World, Jacqueline West, Carmina Magazine September

Walking in the Starry World, John Philip Johnson, Orion's Belt May

Whispers in Ink, Angela Yuriko Smith, Whispers from Beyond (Crystal Lake Publishing)

Long Poems (25 finalists)

Archivist of a Lost World, Gerri Leen, Eccentric Orbits 4

As the witch burns, Marisca Pichette, Fantasy 87

Brigid the Poet, Adele Gardner, Eternal Haunted Summer Summer Solstice

Coding a Demi-griot (An Olivian Measure), Armoni “Monihymn” Boone, Fiyah 26

Cradling Fish, Laura Ma, Strange Horizons May

Dream Visions, Melissa Ridley Elmes, Eccentric Orbits 4

Eight Dwarfs on Planet X, Avra Margariti, Radon Journal 3

The Giants of Kandahar, Anna Cates, Abyss & Apex 88

How to Haunt a Northern Lake, Lora Gray, Uncanny 55

Impostor Syndrome, Robert Borski, Dreams and Nightmares 124

The Incessant Rain, Rhiannon Owens, Evermore 3

Interrogation About A Monster During Sleep Paralysis, Angela Liu, Strange Horizons November

Little Brown Changeling, Lauren Scharhag, Aphelion 283

A Mere Million Miles from Earth, John C. Mannone, Altered Reality April

Pilot, Akua Lezli Hope, Black Joy Unbound eds. Stephanie Andrea Allen & Lauren Cherelle (BLF Press)

Protocol, Jamie Simpher, Small Wonders 5

Sleep Dragon, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

Slow Dreaming, Herb Kauderer, The Book of Sleep (Written Image Press)

St. Sebastian Goes To Confession, West Ambrose, Mouthfeel 1

Value Measure, Joseph Halden and Rhonda Parrish, Dreams and Nightmares 125

A Weather of My Own Making, Nnadi Samuel, Silver Blade 56

Welcoming the New Girl, Beth Cato, Penumbric October

What You Find at the Center, Elizabeth R McClellan, Haven Spec Magazine 12

The Witch Makes Her To-Do List, Theodora Goss, Uncanny 50

The Year It Changed, David C. Kopaska-Merkel, Star*Line 46.4

Voting for the Rhysling Award begins July 1; a link to the ballot will be sent with the Rhysling Anthology, as well as with the July issue of Star*Line. More information on the Rhysling Award can be found here.

[writingwrongwjc]

First Date With the Munson Boy

Eddie Munson x Reader

Warnings: maybe slight angst for a second otherwise all fluff!!

“Should I wear this one or the red one?” You look past yourself in the mirror at Steve and Robin lying on your bed. Steve looks up hastily from the magazine but gives no response. Instead offering a lost expression

“Why are you even going on a date with this guy again?”

Robin props herself up, throwing the nearest object she can find toward Steve.

“Dude you can’t just say stuff like that.”

“Why not? I’m being honest he’s kinda… well he is a freak.”

“He’s... sweet.” You say, swinging around toward them; making sure your dress swishes as you do so.

“Plus I could make fun of you for so many girls… Linda!” Robin Chimes in.

“Okay, glasses Linda? That’s not fair becau-” Steve begins to ramble but you interject before his poor excuses can manifest themselves.

“You guys! You are no help.” You throw your hands in the air, flailing the dresses as you move.

“Red.”

“Red!”

They both say in unison. Given their struggles with finding love, and your growing irritation you opted for the white dress.

“Mmm it’s classy.” you quip, leaving the room to put on the dress.

How you met Eddie is a story you’d rather not share with them just yet. Although Steve and Robin are your best friends they don’t exactly know about your habitual love for Mary Jane. They know you’ve smoked before, even trying a little for themselves when drunk and adventurous. You have just been embarrassed to admit that you enjoy the little herb, and many of the outcasts that come with it on a consistent basis. One such outcast is the man who started to sell it to you in the first place, Eddie Munson. Town Outcast, drug dealer, and according to neighborhood moms; occultist! After you started buying from him more the two of you started to hang out in those woods more consistently, even when you didn’t want to buy, but knew he’d be back there.

“We can’t keep meeting this way.” He’d say one day, cocking his head with a gentle smile.

“No? Then maybe you should take me out somewhere?” You cocked your head back at him with a slight of mischief on your face.

So now, you stand in your living room all dolled up to go out with the Munson boy.

“He’ll be here any second you guys need to leave! Go!” You shout, pushing Steve and Robin out the front door; giggling as they shuffle through at the same time.

“Have fun!”

“Don’t get murdered!”

“Oh yeah. Use protection!”

Not even a minute later Eddie pulls up in his beat down old van blaring some Iron Maiden song. Rather than allowing him to retrieve you from the house you meet him at the curb so that your parents don’t berate him about where he’s taking you and what his intentions are. He stumbles over his own feet in an effort to reach the van door before you can.

“Your chariot awaits you.” He bows, hand still on the door, eyes lingering on your form for a moment. “You uh, wow.” He says, shaking his head in disbelief releasing a huff of air. “You look amazing.”

“Oh thank you,” you say blushing at his genuine comment. He shuts your door hard, galloping over to the driver’s side, jumping into the seat. The music is now at a comforting volume rather than its usual roar.

“So, where are you taking me?”

“I was thinking we could hit some takeout, then drive out to the quarry and have a bit of a soiree?” Eddie seemed unsure of his idea now that he’s presenting it to you.

“Who knew you were a romantic Eddie!”

“I just, I thought that the stars would be brighter out there, and… you wouldn’t have to actually be seen with me.”

The street lights lit up the sadness glistening in his eyes, although he hid it well under his vibrant expressions and smiles toward you as he spoke.

“If I didn’t want to be seen with you I wouldn’t go out with you, dummy.” You jabbed him in the side in order to lighten his mood.

“I yearn for adventure! There’s no adventure in a drive in. Just making out before you're ready.”

He laughs vibrantly fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he palms the steering wheel. Quicker than you thought that you would, you arrived at the quarry with takeout cheeseburgers in hand.

Eddie parked at the edge of the water away from the main road. As romantic as it truly was, Steve's words popped back in your head for a moment: “Don’t get murdered.” Not that Eddie would hurt you, just the fact of how dark it is way out here and the colorful history of the area. It's peaceful, but in an eerie way. While you’re thinking about how eerie it is Eddie got into the back of his van to grab a blanket.

“Here it is! Only the finest silks for a lady.” He approaches you staring into the darkness. “Oh. Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Yeah! It’s just dark out here. Spooky.” You wiggled your fingers at him when you said the word spooky. You take the blanket from him and turn to find a spot while he turns on some music.

“Okay so options, killer options by the way. We have Iron Maiden, Judas Priest, Dio, Slayer. Oh I have my guilty pleasure prince tape! Or, behind door number three, surprise mix! I have no Idea what’s on this one, I think I was high when I made it or it’s like one of those things where we listen to it and a quest starts”

He holds up each cassette tape like a salesman attempting to get your buy. You couldn’t help but admire his features, complimented so well by a nice leather jacket, cleaner, sturdier than his usual jacket but it suits him so well.

“Door number three, Surprise me! Now come eat, it's getting soggy!”

“Oh one more thing!” he leans into the van once more sliding the cassette into place then reaching to grab something. The first song on the surprise cassette is certainly a surprise to you. Africa by Toto.

He holds up a small hand rolled joint with a crooked grin on his face.

“We’ll save it for dessert!” you say as he sits beside you on the blanket warming the brisk air.

“Oh I thought I was gonna have something else for dessert.” He looks you up and down, biting his lip slyly. Not sly enough, you push his face away from you.

“Eddie! Who do you think I am?”

Rather than taking your shove for what it was he threw himself to the ground with haste feigning injury. Making you burst into laughter from his theatrics. Sitting up again he looks at you with puppy’s eyes.

“I meant Ice Cream, freak. We can go get some ice cream!”

“Oh yeah sure you did, but I’ll hold you to that now.”

After stuffing your mouths and talking a bit in between, Eddie lights up the joint offering you the first hit. You can feel his eyes on your lips as you draw in the smoke. His gaze is soft and his eyes dart across the entirety of your face. As you go to hand him the lit joint you hear a crackle in the woods beside you. Reacting with instinct you gasp harshly scooting your body closer to his, dropping the joint onto the blanket.

“Oh. shit.”

“Shit. Sorry.”

The two or you scramble to pick it up and snuff out the embers, tangling into one another while doing so. Your arm is now hooked around Eddie’s bent leg and his arm under yours, hand resting on the tops of your knees. The tension between the two of you is palpable but you both laugh off what just happened, especially since the weed is now settling into your system.

“You’re honestly such a mage.” Eddies says out of nowhere.

“Huh?”

“I was just thinking if you were a class in D&D it would be mage.”

“I have no idea what that is.” You say looking at him confused but eager to learn more.

He takes the time to thoroughly explain the D&D classes and other game mechanics you didn’t fully understand but thoroughly enjoys the enthusiastic expression on his face while he explains something he loves.

“Basically, they’re very versatile in their magic, like you. Pretty, funny, smart, it's all magic!”

“So would you be a bard then, because they play instruments?” The glow leaves Eddie's eyes and his expression drops, pouting his bottom lip out slightly.

“Well, they play lutes and stuff, it's not the same.”

“I mean sure it is, your electric guitar is just a way cooler version of a lute.”

“There’s more to it than that I’m more of a rogue.” He stands up, broadening his shoulders, with an over dramatic sneaky look on his face.

“Whatever you say, oh great D&D expert!” You hop onto your knees fanning your arms up and down at him. “I dare not question thee. Forgive me my Lord.” Sarcasm thickens with each word.

“I’ll forgive you, fair Lady. Stand!” Eddie poses himself as a king making his decree. “On one condition!”

You stand to your feet with a bit of a wobble, choking back a giggle as the song that is playing ends and the song Hungry Eyes comes on.

“That is?”

Suddenly the air shifts. No longer do you feel playful, but a tickle of anxiety. Nothing surrounds the two of you now. Eddies searches for words to say but can’t think of a royal decree. He crosses his arms loosely.

“Man I suck at this.”

“Or you're distracted.” you offer up walking closer to him until your hands meet his shoulders. The leather cold under your palms. He lets his arms unfold, grabbing you by the small of your back.

“Yeah that’s-” He trails off nervously. You can feel his shaky warm breath amid the cool autumn air.

“Next time I want to go to the most popular spot in town.”

“Next time?” He smiles.

“Yes next time, dummy.”

You slide your hand onto his jawline and then to the base of his neck, burying your fingers into his mess of brown hair. He leans forward slightly, pausing just before he kisses you allowing you to direct the moment. You pull his head closer to yours, your lips crashing together sweetly. His lips full and passionate yet not hungry for more instead satisfied in the moment. You linger in the kiss allowing passion to blossom. When you pull away you linger close to one another, Eddie’s deep brown eyes locked onto your’s, his cheeks are full of color, and his lips forcing themselves upward.

The sweet silence is finally disrupted when you speak up,

“Did you know this mixtape is full of love songs?”

He says nothing, instead stifling laughter as he pulls away from you unable to hide his expression.

“You did, you sneak! Surprise, door number three my ass!”

“So how bout that ice cream, my lady?”

Authors Note: Steddie and Stucky Fics are coming soon! I know I write a lot of x reader but I am workin on others as well!!

[woso-dreamzzz]

World Cup III

Magdalena Eriksson x Hardersson!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: Sweden vs USA

Usually, you go with Momma to her camp for international break or back to Denmark to spend time with Momma's parents. But, this year, it's the World Cup and you're with Morsa.

Sweden camp is a little strange, a lot stranger than Denmark camp. At Denmark camp, Momma lets you have free reign so long as you're within eye line of one of her teammates.

Morsa, on the other hand, doesn't let you wander. She keeps your hand tight in her own as she introduces you to everyone.

You know a lot of them already though from your visits but this is the first time that you're actually been around them a lot.

Much to Morsa's annoyance, you stick quite firm to the Arsenal Swedes and then to Amanda when you find out that she's now signed for Arsenal.

If you're not with them then you're with your moster (aunt) Frido, who shares you room in Sweden with Morsa.

"There she is," Captain Caroline says one morning as you hold Frido's hand tight as you wait for her to fill your breakfast plate," Future Captain of Sweden, my little protégé."

You don't quite understand what that means but you know it kind of means that you'll be like her when you're older.

"Don't let Pernille find out you've said that," Johanna says from further down the line," She almost slapped me when I told her that y/n will be a Swedish international."

"That doesn't sound like Pernille," Filippa says, frowning as she moves to take your plate from Frido and put some grapes on it before passing it off to Nathalie to add more to.

"Momma says that I have forever to choose the right team," You say as you go up on your tiptoes to see what juice options there are. Morsa and your aunties usually have weird-tasting protein drinks but you don't like that so the cooks have started to leave juice out in the mornings for you.

"And that Morsa should stop trying to convince me to play for Sweden just because she's ego-eg...er, just because she's tistical...no...er...Because she's got a big head."

"Who's got a big head?" Morsa joins you all now, looking freshly showered.

"You, apparently," Linda scoffs.

Morsa looks confused, brow furrowed in a way that Momma likes to joke you do too. She feels her head. "I don't get it. Who said that?"

You smile, skipping away from Frido to hold her hand. "No one."

"You're up to something, princesse."

You shake your head. "No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Morsa gives you a long, considering look before deciding to drop it. "Who's got your breakfast? You need to eat if you're going to grow up big and strong like me and play for Sweden."

She goes back to looking confused when the whole team starts laughing at her.

She doesn't get the joke through the entirety of camp and all through the flight to Australia. The World Cup beginning takes her mind off of it and you flip-flop between staying with her and staying with Momma.

The highlight of your World Cup so far is meeting Keira Walsh and getting her and Mary Earps' shirts. It's a feeling like no other and you ride that high all the way back to the Swedish Camp and all through the rest of their group stage.

You only really tune back in to what your Morsa is doing when she goes up against America.

The day starts like any other. You're carted into breakfast by Nilla, who proclaims you the team's good luck charm (and they'll need all the luck they can get going against the US).

"If you win today, Zećira," You say, as Frido wipes your mouth" Can I have your special gloves?"

"If we win," Zećira says," Then you can have absolutely anything you want."

You arrive at the stadium in the coach and Morsa changes you into your special Eriksson shirt and lets you go around the locker room giving everyone hugs and kisses - you take extra care to give your favourite Arsenal girls, your moster Frido and Zećira the biggest ones.

You return to Morsa and hug her tight. Just like all her World Cup matches, you walk out as her mascot and give her a big kiss before kick off where you scamper off to the bench.

Lina isn't starting today so you stick close to her side on the bench as she sits you on her lap so you can see everything. She tells you that the US are the reigning champions and are very good so this match means a lot.

America rains down on your team and you crane your head to watch as Zećira pulls off another amazing save.

You want to be like that one day, playing as the first keeper for your country. You want to be just like Zećira and save all the goals that come your way.

It's nearing the end of the first half and there's still no goal on either side. The US continues to attack Morsa's defence and Zećira's goal but can't quite get it passed.

A few times Lina covers your eyes when she thinks America is going to score but they're all false alarms.

The game falls into half-time fairly quickly and you're relegated back to the locker room to regroup.

"Come here, princesse."

Morsa seems a bit sad and down and you ragdoll to let her pick you up and squeeze. When she lets you go, she cups your cheek. "I'm going to get you another medal," She says," We're not going out here."

"I don't need another one," You say softly," I'm happy with my one now."

Morsa shakes her head. "No, no. I will get you another one. You're going to get a medal in every World Cup I play until you're old enough to earn your own. We aren't letting them knock us out."

Morsa's determined now and you just nod.

You weave your way through the group of girls until you're in front of Zećira. You don't say anything, just crash into her arms and give her the best hug you can manage.

The second half goes much the same as the first and you have to let go of Lina for her to go onto the pitch so you end up attached to Johanna who's just come off and holds you so tight that you almost can't breathe.

That feeling persists in your chest as the game ends in penalties.

The team lines up by the edge of the pitch. You stand in the very middle as you watch on.

Zećira goes the right way for the US's first shot but misses out on the save. But moster Frido keeps Sweden level with her own goal. Horan gets the next goal but Elin scores back.

You shift anxiously on your feet, scuffing your shoes on the grass.

Kristie, who you know dates Sam, scores one past Zećira and you have to hold your breath as Nathalie misses her shot. You only release it when the US also fail to score their next goal but then suck in another one when Naeher saves Rebecka's.

With Smith missing her own and Hanna scoring, you feel more content again.

Naeher scores then it's Morsa's turn.

You bite at your lip and play with your Eriksson jersey as Morsa does her little runup.

The ball flies into the top corner of the goal and you smile.

O'Hara misses and then Lina...Maybe scores?

You don't understand what's going on.

"They're checking VAR," Caroline says as she crouches by you," Because Lina's goal might have already gone over the line before Naeher saved it."

The whole stadium is silent as the ref listens to what they're saying in her ear.

You grab hold of Caroline in one hand and Johanna in the other.

The ref makes an odd gesture and suddenly you're being thrown into the air and Johanna's running with you in her arms.

Everyone converges on Lina and then on you, giving you kisses and spinning you around. You slip away before Morsa can trap you with her own love and run to your favourite goalkeeper in the whole wide world.

You skid to a stop as Naeher wildly gestures to the ref.

Zećira pulls a glove off her hand and claps her palm against Naeher's before lifting you up so you can do the same.

She throws you into the air like Johanna did and catches you. You're placed safely on the ground again as a cameraman catches the moment Zećira kneels in front of you and pulls her gloves onto your hands.

"We won," Morsa says to you.

"You had a good goal," You say, easily falling into her embrace.

"I sense a but?" She teases and you look down at the gloves still on your hands.

"But Zećira was the best today. I'm going to be the best like her one day too."

"Of course you are."

[sarahowritesostucky]

📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 4042

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, referenced childhood abuse and resultant mental health issues, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, childhood abuse, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

5. Jiggly Soufflé Cake

Steve

“I should be in there,” Bucky says again, making Steve roll his eyes.

They’re sitting next to each other, out in the waiting room at the Center. It’s been over an hour, but Steve remembers how the intake worker had told them that Mary’s evaluation wouldn’t be short. Already, he’s read through half the crappy magazine selection. He lets the edge of an outdated issue of Dominant Monthly flop down to his lap. “Babe …”

“It’s taking too long. What if they’re harassing her or—”

“You know that’s not true. The people here are good. You’re just trying to control everything,” he reminds Bucky.

“If I was in there I could—”

“Get in the way. She needs to feel like she can express herself.”

“What if she’s not honest? What if Linda’s not asking her the right—”

“Buck, stop,” Steve says, injecting some command into his voice. Bucky might be the Dom, but Steve can put his foot down with his husband when needed. “The therapist knows what she’s doing. All the people here do. This is what they do.”

They’re at the Center for Designated Peoples, the place where people like Bucky go for … well, anything related to their dominance or submission needs. That’s all Steve really knows. He knows that Bucky has been in and out of CDPs since he was a kid. “It took almost a week to get her this appointment, alright? You want to mess that up?”

Bucky grumbles. “No.”

“Good. Cause they don’t need you in there, interfering in her assessment. So sit tight.”

Bucky shuts up after that, satisfying Steve that he’s made his point.

“Well, what do you think?” Bucky eventually says, when another ten minutes have passed and the door to the therapist’s office is still closed. “Of her?”

Steve glances over. “You mean in general?”

“Sure. Whatever.”

Steve can tell when Bucky’s being defensive. “You like her,” he says. “And not just cause of her lemon tarts.” He’d seen him looking at weighted blankets on Amazon, yesterday. “Admit it,” he prods, nudging Bucky’s shoe with his. “You can tell me how you feel. Why d’you need me to qualify it for you, first?

“Because I’m married to you, not her,” Bucky snaps. “Jesus, Rogers. Never met a man with less self-preservation instincts than you.”

“Mmhm. Aand?”

“... Okay I’m drawn to her,” Bucky says. “But I can’t tell how much of that is instinct and how much is normal people stuff.”

“‘Normal people stuff’,” Steve echoes, amused.

“I want to know what you think of her.” Bucky kicks his shoe back. “Tell me.”

“I like her too,” Steve concedes. “It’s not just you.” He can see as Bucky’s shoulders relaxing a little bit, knows that his opinion matters to his husband. “She’s different. Plain, but …” Steve searches for the right word. ‘Cute’ doesn’t seem right. She’s too prickly for that and too old besides. She’s a woman, not a girl, and he’s not just trying to describe her physical appearance. “I don’t know,” he says. “Editorial?”

“Editorial?” Bucky scowls. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“I dunno, just, not off the rack. Different.” Bucky snatches the magazine out of his lap and chucks it back to the coffee table. Steve rolls his eyes. “Wish she wasn’t so defensive, though. And I wish we could’ve met her … you know, like on a date or at the gym or something.”

Bucky snorts. “Yeah.”

“She grows on you,” Steve decides. Like an angry, stray cat. That’s dirty and scraggy a little.

“She’s pretty,” Bucky offers, but the words fall flat. They can both see that she’s attractive, that isn’t news. Bucky and Steve are attractive people themselves. They aren’t hurting for opportunities to be with attractive women (or men), if they want to. And it’s been a while since they invited another person into their bed. But …

“I haven’t been with a woman since my twenties,” Steve mumbles, thinking about it. He glances at Bucky. “You have.”

They both know Bucky was dating women casually when he met Steve, years ago. “Yeah,” he says simply.

“You ever miss ‘em? Women?” Steve kind of does sometimes. He likes how soft they are; the contrast. It had taken him a couple of dates and a few glasses of wine, back when they’d first gotten together, to admit to Bucky that he was bi. Steve had told him that, and then Bucky had disclosed his designation status. “We used to talk about the whole poly thing a lot more.”

“Hm, yeah I guess.” Bucky shrugs and reaches to take his hand. Steve gives it a squeeze. “I dunno babe. Kind of hard to think about anybody else when I’ve got you around.” He gives him a lecherous look that makes Steve glad they’re the only ones in the waiting room. “Your hot body’s been enough to keep my attention.” His eyes drag up and down Steve, mentally undressing him.

Steve feels heat creep up his neck and he chuckles, pushing Bucky’s hand away. “Stoppit. Jerk. I’m a person.”

“Punk,” Buck smirks. “You like it.”

“Shuddup. Not here. God, you’re such a creep.” They’re both grinning—probably like complete, horny letches—when the door to the therapist’s office opens.

The professionally dressed woman offers them a friendly smile. “Bucky, Steve.”

“Hey Linda,” Bucky greets.

“How’d it go, Doctor?” Steve asks, not on as informal terms with the CDP staff as his husband is. “Is she …”

“Mary is fine. Would you like to come in and talk with us?”

Bucky is immediately standing from his chair. “Yep.”

Steve has to refrain from rolling his eyes. He grabs Bucky’s wrist. “Hang on now, Buck. Maybe she doesn’t want us in there. We should try and give her choices where we can.”

Doctor Linda surprises him by saying, “Actually, Mary says she’s fine with discussing this all together.”

Bucky shoots him a smug look and tugs his wrist back. “See?”

This time Steve does roll his eyes, but he nods at Linda and gets up to follow her back into the office.

Bucky

Bucky can recall very clearly the first time he’d been told he had a mental illness. He’d been ten, had been sent to the school shrink for misbehavior. He remembers how his mom had come in, harried about being called off from work when her kid wasn’t even sick. Bucky had felt bad about that, had felt like he’d done something wrong (well, he had scrubbed Trixie Wallace’s face into a mud puddle at recess).

But still, even at ten years old he’d been smart enough to know that this meeting with his mom and the counselor was more serious than another simple admonition or in-school suspension.

Long story short, His mom wound up reacting with something like embarrassment, and Bucky had wound up internalizing that for a long time, feeling like his “condition” was something to be kept private and not discussed.

Now, he sits in Linda’s office and makes sure to exude an air of calm and acceptance. He doesn’t want Mary to be embarrassed about this like he was. It helps that times have changed a bit since Bucky was a kid, and he knows this particular Center very well. They do good work with the designated community. Bucky knows that no one here is going to announce to Mary that she’s a deviant.

Mary’s sitting in her own chair, separate from where Bucky and Steve share the couch. Even though Bucky’s instinct is to tell her to come sit with them, he holds back. He knows that the seating arrangement is likely purposeful on Linda’s part. He tries to remember Steve’s words about giving Mary choices where they can. Domination may be what she needs, but too much of a good thing, administered too fast, can still be harmful.

“High needs,” Steve is saying, echoing what Linda’s just told them. “... So, she’s like Bucky, but submissive?”

“Yes,” Linda confirms. “We did the assessment twice, and both times Mary tested at the far end of the spectrum.”

“Fantastic,” Mary mutters.

“We’ve been discussing what this might mean for her care plan, going forward. Mary has several other issues that I believe tie into her unfulfilled needs as a submissive.”

“I don’t understand how it went undiagnosed for so long,” Bucky says, feeling vaguely upset about it. “Doc?”

She shrugs. “Mary’s from a part of the country where mental health awareness isn’t so advanced. They didn’t test in the public school system where she grew up.” Mary makes a quiet noise of discontent and Linda adds, “So we’ve been talking about the physiology of it, the role of neurotransmitters and how important it is for her to be dropped regularly. And we’ve discussed what that might look like, different options she has.”

“Options?”

Here, Linda hesitates. “Well … Mary has expressed an interest in taking advantage of the Center’s social programs.”

“No,” Bucky says right away. “Absolutely not.”

“She said you do it,” Mary counters, and when Bucky looks over he finds her glaring at him. “Apparently, I don’t need you after all. I can just come here and hook up with any old body.”

“I’m your legal guardian right now,” Bucky reminds her. “And the clubs are for people who know what they’re doing. It’s too unstructured for you. You need more stability than that.”

Mary scoffs and crosses her arms, but Dr. Linda is already nodding in agreement. “I think Bucky’s right, Mary,” she says gently. “A reliable, dominant partner and regular drops in a safe space are what you need right now.”

“Why can’t you just write me a prescription or something?” Mary complains. “You said it was a brain chemistry thing, so why not?”

Linda looks uncomfortable as she explains, “Medication is usually only considered as a last ditch treatment option … and with your substance use disorder and other issues I'd rather not —”

“I am not an alcoholic!”

“No meds,” Bucky says, hating that idea. “Come on, Mary. You don’t want to be drugged up, do you?”

She glares at him. “You just want to control me.”

He fights very, very hard not to roll his eyes. “Yeah,” he quips. “That’s kind of the whole point.”

Mary groans and slumps back into the cushions of her chair, looking put out. “This sucks.”

“It’s manageable,” Linda reminds gently.

"I don't want to be this way," she mumbles. "'High needs'. It's embarrassing."

“It's no different than needing air, or food or sleep,” Steve supplies. “You guys just have this extra thing.”

Mary makes a face, probably at being lumped into the ‘you guys’ category with Bucky. “So, what’s the plan then?” she asks mulishly, crossing her arms. “We go back to your place and you break out the whips and chains?”

Bucky barks out a laugh before he can stop himself. “Oh, honey. I promise there aren’t any chains.” He winks at her. “I prefer leather.”

Mary

After the therapist, it gets a little easier to be around Steve and Bucky. Mary’s still quick to anger, thinking about the situation that she's managed to get herself into, but there are some ameliorating factors to the situation.

Having an official diagnosis—no matter how much she doesn’t want this diagnosis—is at least a starting point. Mary doesn’t have to keep exhausting herself, arguing with Bucky that she’s not a sub. She is. That’s that.

And when he takes it upon himself to speak with Mary’s boss about her situation (effectively getting him to unfire her for the multiple days of work she’s missed) some more of Mary’s contempt for Bucky slips away.

“Thank you,” she says quietly once they leave the café, her next shift already scheduled for that upcoming Monday. “ I … this job, it means a lot to me.”

“I know.” Bucky says simply, though Mary can see the self-satisfaction in his posture. He takes her hand as they walk together down the sidewalk, and to Mary it feels like some sort of test, like he’s waiting for her to pull away.

So she forces herself to curl her fingers around his and keep holding his hand.

Again, she can practically feel the reaction coming off of him. He’s pleased with her. Mary’s cheeks flush from the domineering squeeze he gives her hand from time to time as they walk, and she’s grateful that she can blame it on the day’s chilly air.

Doctor Linda had explained everything, of course, when Mary went in for the assessment. The testing hadn’t been what she was expecting, hadn’t been embarrassing or invasive. And, perhaps most disappointing of all, it hadn’t been predictable. Mary hadn’t felt like she knew which way to fake her responses, to get the test to declare her mentally fit. So she’d answered honestly. 

And where had that gotten her? Lumped into the same group of deviants as James Bucky Barnes. “High needs”—God it sounds awful.

“It’s not necessarily sexual,” Linda tells her at her second appointment. “Or, well … it doesn’t have to be, at least. There are ways around it, if you really need an asexual dynamic.”

Mary nods along, but inside she thinks about the last time Bucky scolded her or praised her or held her hand on the sidewalk. She thinks about when he’d put his hand on her throat and applied pressure. Thinking about those things doesn’t make her feel asexual at all.

The first time Bucky doms her in a coordinated manner, she’s actually unaware of what he’s doing at first. It’s one of Mary’s  three days off and she’s terribly bored, researching how to make grapefruit soda caviar and wondering if there’s a gym nearby that she could join. She hasn’t exercised in weeks, and honestly, if there’s even the slightest chance that she’s going to wind up being naked in front of Bucky or Steve (or, oh god, both of them), then she really feels like she needs to work out.

Scratching fingernails over the skin of her lower stomach, she googles nearby gyms, finds one that looks decent, and tells Steve that she’s headed out to go join. She’s tying one sneaker when Steve objects.

“Oh but wait,” he says. “Um, Bucky’s going to be home soon. And I think he uh, I think he had plans. … For us.”

Mary raises an eyebrow. She likes Steve—thinks he’s kind of a big, beefy sweetheart, actually—but sometimes his devotion to Bucky and what Bucky wants is annoying. “Fine, you stay here and tell him where I went. I’ve got to get out of this apartment.” And out from under you and your bossy husband’s constant supervision. “Got to … I dunno, burn off some steam.”

Bucky’s timing is impeccable. He comes through the door just as she’s bending over to lace up her other sneaker. His arms are full of plastic grocery bags, which he dumps onto the kitchen counter with fanfare. "Honey, I'm home."

“What happened to using the reusable bags?” Steve drawls, earning an eye roll from Bucky.

“Forgot 'em.”

“Mmhm.”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s grinning at his husband, until he catches sight of Mary crouched in her gym clothes. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asks her.

“None of your business,” she snips, standing back up and heading for the front door.

“Stop right there, Princess.”

Oh. Well that’s a new one. Mary turns back around with what she’s sure is an incredulous look. “‘Princess’?”

Bucky smiles warmly and drags her over to inspect the groceries that are in the bags. She’s quick to catalog: eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. “What?” she asks, looking up at him. “You think I’m going to cook for you?”

“Oh I know you’re going to cook for me,” he says calmly, taking dry goods out of one of the bags and arranging them in the pantry. “Bake, in fact.”

Mary might stare a little, maybe with her lips parted. She feels equal parts annoyed and intrigued by his audacity. Something vaguely squirmy and warm stirs in her. She's planning on throwing some haughty quip back at him, maybe casually threatening poisoning, but somehow what comes out of her mouth is a subservient, “Well … what do you want me to make?”

He turns back around with bright eyes. “Oh, I’m sure you can come up with something,” he practically purrs. He gets right up in her space and says, “Something … delectable.”

Mary has to avert her gaze and turn away. She says a quick prayer that he hadn’t been close enough to hear the little hitch in her breath, then tries to focus her attention on cataloging the ingredients the jerk has brought her. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk …

Hadn’t she … hadn’t she been going out somewhere? Oh yeah, right. The gym.

She squeaks when Bucky claps a cheerful hand on her shoulder and gives her a squeeze. “Good girl,” he simpers, then walks over to the couch and flops down next to Steve, giving him a kiss hello. They proceed to chat with each other and chat about their days like Mary isn’t standing less than twenty feet away in the kitchen.

She suddenly feels like some 1950’s housewife. … One with damp panties, now that Bucky’s called her that right in her ear. Christ. Had Steve heard? She glances back over to them, but they’re not looking her way. Mary flushes and looks back down at the countertop. Eggs, butter, flour, sugar, milk. She tries to think if she has everything she might need for soufflé cakes.

“How can something so plain be so good?” Steve wonders at the dinner table, where he’s squinting closely at his third helping of dessert like he can glean answers from it. “And what is it?”

“Satisfying,” Bucky says sagely. “That’s the secret.”

“The secret is buttermilk. And it’s cake, Steve. Just eat it.”

“How’re those dishes coming, Doll?” Bucky calls back, shooting her a sly look from over his shoulder. Mary resists the urge to stick her tongue out at him and dunks her hands back into the soapy sink water. 

Steve pokes the jiggly cake with his fork. “What are yooou?” 

By the time they’re finished with dinner and dessert (and dishes), she’s figured it out. All the pet names, the casual touches and the confident demands? Bucky’s trying to dominate her. She thinks about calling him out on it, but promptly forgets to do that when they go into the living room to watch a movie and Bucky firmly suggests that she make herself comfortable on the floor instead of the couch. At his and Steve’s feet.

Forget about damp panties, she just hopes it doesn’t start to show through her leggings.

Asexual dynamic her ass.

Mary had only held onto the illusion that the guys were gay gay for about two whole days, before it became very apparent that they actually like women, too. Steve’s comments alone about Daenerys while watching Game of Thrones are enough to broadcast that he swings both ways.

So that takes it from regrettable to just plain insulting when, as time goes by, Bucky doesn’t initiate anything sexual with her. He keeps doing his whole Dom thing, aided and abetted by Steve, and almost always in ways that take Mary off guard. He’s never mean, never does any of the intimidating things she’d imagined a dom would do to a submissive. 

And Mary won’t admit it, but she’s starting to look forward to when Bucky gets home from work at the end of the day. She spends more time than she’ll ever admit planning out something new to make for dessert, all the while anticipating the beginning of Bucky’s early evening commands and how they elicit those first tendrils of effervescent, pink fizz giddiness. 

It’s the later commands—the ones that come after dinner and during tv time, that tend to bring on the warm, sunken bathwater feelings. Marys pretty sure that Steve is a bit of a voyeur, because he seems fascinated by it all, watching every night as Bucky bosses her around, sometimes even joining in his own small ways, by petting her hair or telling her she’s sweet, or something like that.

Every evening, they play this strange game. And every evening Bucky and Steve each give her a kiss on the cheek and send her dazed little self off to bed, the two of them retiring to their own room. In the beginning, being left alone to go to bed is nice. She ignores the arousal between her legs in favor of floating in her syrupy sea of sweet feelings. Going to bed in subspace gives her the most solid sleep she’s ever had in her life. But after another week of it, and then another, the arousal starts to linger a little more at bedtime. She starts to fantasize about what it would be like to keep things going, to take Steve’s hand at the end of the night and let him guide her into his and Bucky’s bedroom, rather than her own; be held between their two big bodies while they whisper more sweet things to her and touch her in new places …

Maybe Steve and Bucky really do just want this to be platonic, she thinks, as another week of the same goes by and her dreams are getting dirtier by the minute. She’d surreptitiously stuffed her vibrator into a bag when they’d gone back to her apartment to retrieve her belongings, but she’s been too afraid to use it when Steve and Bucky are right across the hallway in their room, mortified to think that they might hear the buzzing and know what she’s doing.

Best not to add fuel to the fire, she thinks, when she ignores how increasingly horny she’s becoming and forces herself to lie still and count sheep and not fantasize about the two insanely hot, not-gay-gay men in the next room. They’re still a happily married couple, she tells herself. They’ve got no interest in her as of yet, and she’ll just be making herself into a homewrecker if she pushes for more.

… Or maybe they’re just not attracted to her that way, she eventually starts to think. Steve and Bucky are both in amazing shape, and they’re very good looking. They probably see her as like … maybe a solid five—with makeup and a blowout. 

She gets a little down in the dumps about it, realizing that all the heavy drinking and crap diet of this past year and a half has taken its toll on her, and she’s just not physically their type. She convinces Bucky to start adding salmon to the grocery list, she researches the pros and cons of lip filler, and starts whitening her teeth with one of those nasty little gel kits.

She stands in front of her bathroom mirror each night and scrutinizes her naked body, dragging her nails absentmindedly against the skin of her lower stomach and cataloging everything that’s not as good as it could be. She considers the scars on her hip that have no new slices added to the roster, wonders if Bucky ever wound up telling Steve about how … how awful they are …

“Night, Mary!” Steve chirps from across the hall, making her inhale and flinch in surprise.

“N-night!” she calls back through the wall, feeling the pleasant effects of that night’s drop fading away faster than she’d like.

Maybe she should just be happy that she’s getting at least this much attention from them, that things have improved a little and she at least isn’t drinking herself into a stupor each night anymore. That’s a positive, even if she is still left pining after them like a fool every night. Steve and Bucky are okay guys, but they probably just don’t want anything more than this from her. They’re helping her because she shares this mental illness with Bucky, and that’s super nice of them, but it doesn’t mean they have to be attracted to her, too. Mary’s not entitled to anything.

She joins a 24 hour gym and takes to binge exercising in the middle of the night to push away the uncertainty.

Series Masterlist

Masterlist

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@badthingshappenbingo

card: sarah-writes-stucky / sarahyellow

Square O2: therapy session

@marvel-smash-bingo

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square I1: enemies to lovers

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card: @sarahowritesostucky

Square B5: Love triangle

@ultimatechrisbingo

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Square B3: Inconvenient attraction

[lands-of-fantasy]

Titular Women in Live-action Superhero Media

Joanna Cameron as Andrea Thomas / Isis in The Secrets of Isis (1975-76)

Cathy Lee Crosby as Diana Prince / Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman (1975)

Lynda Carter as Diana Prince / Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman (1975-79)

Helen Slater as Kara Zor-El / Linda Lee / Supergirl in Supergirl (1984)

Teri Hatcher as Lois Lane in Lois & Clark: The New Adventures of Superman (1993-97)

Ashley Scott as Helena Kyle / Huntress, Dina Meyer as Barbara Gordon / Oracle, Rachel Skarsten as Dinah Redmond in Birds of Prey (2002-03)

Halle Berry as Patience Phillips / Catwoman in Catwoman (2004)

Jennifer Garner as Elektra Natchios in Elektra (2005)

Melissa Benoist as Kara Zor-El / Kara Danvers / Supergirl in Supergirl (2015-21)

Hayley Atwell as Peggy Carter in Agent Carter (2015-16)

Krysten Ritter as Jessica Jones in Jessica Jones (2015-19)

Gal Gadot as Diana Prince / Wonder Woman in Wonder Woman (2017) and Wonder Woman 1984 (2020)

Olivia Holt as Tandy Bowen in Cloak & Dagger (2018-19)*

Evangeline Lily as Hope van Dyne / The Wasp in Ant-Man and The Wasp (2018) and Ant-Man and The Wasp: Quantumania (2023)

Brie Larson as Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel in Captain Marvel (2019)

Sophie Turner as Jean Grey / Phoenix in X-Men: Dark Phoenix

Ruby Rose as Kate Kane / Batwoman in Batwoman Season 1 (2019-20)

Margot Robbie as Dr. Harleen Quinzel / Harley Quinn, Mary Elizabeth Winstead as Helena Bertinelli / The Huntress, Jurnee Smollett-Bell as Dinah Lance / Black Canary, Rosie Perez as Renee Montoya, Ella Jay Basco as Cassandra Cain in Birds of Prey (and the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)

Brec Bassinger as Courtney Whitmore / Stargirl in Stargirl (2020-22)

Elizabeth Olsen as Wanda Maximoff / Scarlet Witch in WandaVision (2021)

Javicia Leslie as Ryan Wilder / Batwoman in Batwoman Season 2–3 (2021-22)

Elizabeth Tulloch as Lois Lane in Superman & Lois (2021-)

Scarlett Johansson Natasha Romanoff / Black Widow in Black Widow (2021)

Hailee Steinfeld as Kate Bishop in Hawkeye (2021-?)**

Kaci Walfall as Naomi McDuffie in Naomi (2022)

Iman Vellani as Kamala Khan / Ms. Marvel in Ms. Marvel (2022-?)

Tatiana Maslany as Jennifer Walters / She-Hulk in She-Hulk: Attorney at Law (2022-?)

Letitia Wright as Shuri /Black Panther in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever (2022)

Brie Larson as Carol Danvers / Captain Marvel, Teyonah Parris as Monica Rambeau, Iman Vellani as Kamala Khan / Ms. Marvel in The Marvels (2023)

Alaqua Cox as Maya Lopez in Echo (2024-?)*

Dakota Johnson as Cassandra Webb / Madame Web in Madame Web (2024)

Kathryn Hann as Agatha Harkness in Agatha All Along (2024)

________________

*While not directly reffered as such in their shows, "Dagger" and "Echo" are, respectively, Tandy's and Maya's codenames in the comics.

**This also goes for Kate and the "Hawkeye" codename, but in her case the show implies she will use it in the near future with the blessing of Clint Barton (the original Hawkeye, who also stars in the show).

[gardenwalrus]

Christmas card sent from Paul & Linda McCartney to Wings bandmate Denny Laine, 1970s (x) Merry Christmas + Happy Boozy Year Paul Linda Stella Mary Heather

[specialinterestshows]

Try to enjoy some downtime in this latest chapter of my Rhea Ripley x lady!reader fic, Absolute Smokeshow.

Warnings for this section: Cannabis (weed), dirty talk, jealousy, blood, crying

-

Absolute Smokeshow (Part 84 of ?): Ring My Bell

One morning, you awoke ravenous to the most delicious smells; you wondered for a second if you had somehow fallen asleep in the kitchen, before sitting up and opening your eyes.

“Breakfast in bed?” you asked, more out of surprise than anything. “You spoil me.”

“I thought you could use it,” Marisol grinned as you eagerly grabbed a bit of food from one of the overflowing dishes on the tray she held on her lap. “Besides, I don’t have work tonight.”

The moment you took a bite, your eyes rolled back in your head at the taste before grabbing more.

“Want to come with me to a friend’s show?” Mari asked.

“Sure,” you replied after a bit more chewing. “What kind of show?”

“Remember that indie wrestling scene I mentioned?” She gauged your reaction as she continued. “A friend says they need more engagement, so I promised I would go support them.”

Now it wasn’t just your breakfast you needed to chew over before answering. It was already enough feeling guilty for not spending every spare moment looking for another source of income, but going out in public to a wrestling event?

Seeing your hesitation, she gently set her hand on your thigh. “No pressure.”

After a moment more of consideration - pitting logic against your anxiety - you took a deep breath.

“I’ll go with you,” you agreed, “On two conditions.”

-

“Eres tan linda,” Mari reassured you, watching the way you kept fidgeting with the curls of the wig you were borrowing from her - condition one of your attendance being help with a disguise. Mari had also been kind enough to do your makeup in a way that made you look a bit less like yourself.

“Thank you. Do you have the-“ you began nervously, before she pulled condition two out of her bra to show you: a cigarette carton whose original contents had been replaced with beautifully-rolled joints.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you started scouting for a good smoking spot. After looking across the sparse array of parked cars, a nice, out-of-the-way alley materialized in your periphery; you pointed it out to your companion before venturing together toward the space.

Checking your phone as Mari started off the joint, you felt your face heating up when you read Rhea’s reply to the selfie of you in your disguise:

“Looks like Mami’s going to have to start dressing you up before she ruins you, doll. Suits you”

With the little black heart at the end, you read it in the sultry voice she used in bed and a thrill went up your spine. You typed your thanks, hitting send as the lit joint was handed to you.

“So how do you feel about PDA?” Mari asked as you slowly exhaled your first hit.

“I’m not opposed,” you replied, handing the joint back. “Why? Is this when I find out the local indie wrestling scene has some weird tradition where the audience make out instead of cheering or something?”

“I just wanted to make sure I asked ahead of time,” she laughed, giving you a confused look as she licked her thumb and passed it along the side of the paper that was burning too quickly.

“Hey, once I went to this slam poetry thing and they snapped instead of applauding,” you explained defensively. “Anything is possible.”

“Pues, now that I think about it, maybe we should make out instead of cheering,” Mari said, barely containing her amusement, “Just in case.”

-

Looking at the photo of her disguised girlfriend and seeing a bit of Marisol’s crimson red hair in the background, Rhea felt restless. She was alone in her hotel room, Dominik having gone on a date with JD (he refused to call it a date, but it was going to be just the two of them getting to know each other over dinner.) Rhea did her best to send an appropriately complimentary message in response to her girlfriend, sighing as she hit “send.” She didn’t expect to hear much from either of her partners until tomorrow; neither one of them needed her tonight.

The ache in her chest drove Rhea to scroll through her contacts, trying to make plans to keep herself from fixating on any number of things her loves might be doing with other people. A few names stood out to her more than the others as she skimmed her phone’s address book:

Finn Balor. Probably having the night of his life now that Damian doesn’t have to worry about JD.

Shayna Baszler. They hadn’t really gotten along in their NXT days, but maybe now that Rhea had come out… but that was a long shot.

Cathy Kelley. Rhea smirked as she recalled her night with Cathy, but her smile faltered as soon as reporter’s confession came back to her: “That was the first time I came with someone else.” If she was going to spend the night with Cathy again, there was a fair chance the brunette might get too attached.

Liv Morgan. Not much of an option, given that the last time Rhea saw her, Liv was being taken to medical, courtesy of Rhea’s own brutality.

Groaning, Rhea threw her phone onto the bed nearby and ran her fingers through her hair, elbow resting on her legs. Why was this so difficult? Why couldn’t she just be happy for her partners and enjoy a night to herself?

As she stared at the hotel TV’s remote, contemplating whether she should order room service and cozy up with a movie or just walk over to the bar down the street, she heard a knock at her door. It was soft, and Rhea initially thought it may have just been someone walking past, luggage knocking against her door as they ambled down the hall.

A louder knock followed after a few moments, undeniable this time. Rhea stood up immediately, mind racing wondering who might be on the other side. By the time she was standing at the door, her fists were clenched, muscles reflexively preparing for a confrontation. Peering through the peephole, Rhea was surprised to see a familiar, nervous-looking blonde.

“Um, R-Rhea?” The muffled voice sounded tearful, as if each syllable was trying to hold back a sob. “Are you there?”

“One sec,” Rhea said, standing down from her defensive position as she quickly unlocked and opened the door.

Dried blood in her hair, knees scuffed, and one heel broken, the trembling woman standing in the doorway had mascara running down her cheeks, eyes glistening with the threat of more tears as she looked up at the Eradicator.

Without a word, Thea Hail threw her arms around a confused Rhea, breaking down into loud sobs.

[end part eighty-two]

-

Tag list (thank you!)

@babybatlover , @girlofpink , @kagome2909 , @jackiesnats , @wiccanpriestess , @falloutboy-lover , @aut0luminescence , @riverina69 , @itsrheasgirl , @1-800-sinister , @ripleylove , @teganc , @wwefan2002

[b00inazkaban]

MASTERLIST #2

Navigation!

Let me know if there are any characters you’d like added and I’ll look into it! :)

MARVEL:

☆ Tony Stark

☆ Steve Rogers

☆ Bruce Banner

☆ Natasha Romanoff

☆ Clint Barton

☆ Bucky Barnes

☆ Sam Wilson

☆ Peter Parker

☆ Thor Odison

☆ Loki Laufeyson

☆ Dr. Stephen Strange

☆ Peter Quill

☆ Gamora

☆ Drax the destroyer

☆ Rocket the Racoon

☆ Mantis

☆ Groot

Poly Requests:

STRANGER THINGS:

☆ Steve Harrington: Steve Harrington x FtM reader**

☆ Robin Buckley :

☆ Nancy Wheeler:

☆ Eddie Munson:

☆ Johnathan Byers:

☆ Argyle:

☆ Billy Hargrove:

☆ Mike Wheeler: Little!Mike x GN!CG!Reader

☆ Dustin Henderson

☆ Will Byers

☆ Lucas Sinclair

☆ Eleven Hopper

☆ Max Mayfield

☆ Jim Hopper:

☆ Joyce Byers:

☆ Dmitri Antonov:

Poly Requests:

HARRY POTTER/MARAUDER:

☆ Harry Potter:

☆ Ron Weasley: CG!Ron Weasley x Little!GN!reader

☆ Hermione Granger:

☆ Fred Weasley: CG!Fred Weasley x Little!Fem!Reader

☆ George Weasley: George Weasley x reader ; CG!George Weasley x LittleMale!Reader

☆ Neville Longbottom: Sub!Neville x Dom!Reader**

☆ Draco Malfoy:

☆ Blaise Zambini:

☆ Enzo Berkshire:

☆ Mattheo Riddle:

☆ Theo Nott:

☆ Pansy Parkinson:

Marauders Era or Lighting Era:

☆ Lucius Malfoy:

☆ Narcissa Malfoy:

☆ Severus Snape:

☆ Bellatrix Lestrange:

☆ Barty Crouch Jr. :

☆ Evan Rosier:

☆ Pandora Rosier:

☆ Zahara Zambini:

☆ Regulus Black:

☆ Sirius Black:

☆ Remus Lupin:

☆ Lily Evans:

☆ Marlene McKinnon:

☆ Mary McDonald:

☆ Dorcas Meadows:

FANTASTIC BEASTS:

☆ Newt Scamander:

☆ Thesus Scammander:

☆ Jacob Kowalski:

☆ Queenie Goldstein:

☆ Albus Dumbledore (young):

☆ Gellart Grindlewald (young):

Poly Requests:

CRIMINAL MINDS:

☆Aaron Hotchner

☆ Jason Gideon

☆ Spencer Reid

☆ Derek Morgan

☆ JJ/ Jennifer Jareau

☆ Elle Greenaway

☆ Penelope Garcia

☆ Emily Prentiss

☆ David Rossi

Poly Requests:

BRIDGERTON:

☆ Anthony Bridgerton

☆ Benedict Bridgerton

☆ Colin Briderton

☆ Daphne Bridgerton

☆ Eloise Bridgerton

☆ Simon Basset

☆ Penelope Fetherington

☆ Queen Charlotte (Young)

☆ King George (Young)

Poly Requests:

Queen charlotte x reader x King George

TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES:

☆ Leonardo: NSFW alphabet

☆ Raphael:

☆ Donnatelo:

☆ Michelangelo: Mikey x Reader

☆ April O'Neil:

☆ Casey Jones:

Poly Requests:

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; April 4-in-1; turtles are manspreading and you want payback 😚

Poly!TMNT x Fem!Reader; Casey tries to flirt with reader but she puts down the idea and the turtles are proud

TOP GUN:

☆ Pete Mitchell "Maverick"

☆ Bradley Bradshaw "Rooster"

☆ Jake Seresin "Hangman"

☆ Natasha Trace "Phoenix"

☆ Robert Floyd "Bob"

Poly Requests:

THE HOBBIT/LOTR:

☆ Thorin

☆ Bilbo

☆ Fili

☆ Kili

☆ Dwalin

☆ Bofur

☆ Bard

☆ Legolas

☆ Tauriel

☆ Thuranduil

Poly Requests:

TWILIGHT:

☆ Carlisle Cullen

☆ Esme Cullen

☆ Emmet Cullen

☆ Rosalie Cullen

☆ Alice Cullen

☆ Jasper Cullen: CG!Jasper Hale x nb!little!reader

☆ Edward Cullen

☆ Bella Cullen/Swan

☆ Jacob Black

☆ Garrett

The Volturi:

☆ Aro

☆ Caius

☆ Marcus

Poly Requests:

THE HUNGER GAMES:

☆ Katniss Everdeen

☆ Petta Mellark

☆ Finnick Odair

☆ Johanna Mason

☆ Haymitch Abernathy

Poly Requests:

LUCIFER:

☆ Lucifer Morningstar

☆ Mazikeen

☆ Amenadeil

☆ Chole Decker

☆ Linda Martin

Poly Requests:

How To Train Your Dragon:

☆ Hiccup Haddock

☆ Astrid Hofferson

☆ Snotlout

☆ Ruffnut

☆ Tuffnut

Poly Requests:

Across The SpiderVerse:

☆ Miles Morales

☆ Miguel O'Hara

Spider thoughts!

☆ Peter B. Parker

Spider thoughts!

☆ Hobie Brown

☆ Gwen Stacy

☆ Spider-Noir

Spider thoughts!

Poly Requests:

Descendants:

☆ Mal

☆ Evie

☆ Carlos

☆ Jay

☆ Gil

☆ Harry

☆ Uma

Poly Requests:

MATCHUPS/MOODBOARDS:

☆ @thoughtfulcreatornight x Raphael matchup

☆ Anonymous x Remus Lupin matchup

꧁〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎〰︎꧂

I’ve redone my masterlist because I was vey unhappy with my first one, and I wanted to add pictures to go with it! I’ll also be adding all my new work onto here and my old work will be on the first masterlist! Love y’all! 💗

[hopelesswrites]

Book Club

Part 2 Part 3

Its short, I haven't written in far too long, I'm testing the waters, part 2 if even one person asks lmao

Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader

-Your book club bestie persistently tries to set you up with her son, but you don't bet on meeting him on a night out.

Before reading: I felt a little weird about including Joes mum, I didn't want to involve her too much and felt id be best just treating her as another made up character, I have no idea what her name is, I think I've read Mary before? I could be wrong I don't care, I don't want to associate this character with the real woman.

-

You swiftly wrapped a pair of custard creams in a napkin and stuffed it in your coat pocket as the rest of the women bid their goodbyes for another four weeks. Linda, the woman that hosted this meeting had an impressive spread of biscuits with your tea today and you thought it courteous enough to take a few leftovers out of her hand. Also, the train home was long, and you knew you’d get hungry.

“Personally, I thought she was stingy with the snacks today” A quiet voice spoke beside you.

You turned to see Mary, your favourite of the group of ladies you had found yourself joining for book club. She had that look on her face you knew too well, that “we are definitely going to talk about this later” look.

Truthfully, you and Mary had formed quite a bond over the past few months, she was like a mother away from home, you gossiped about the other ladies, about the books you were reading, you confided in her when life got a bit tough, and she consistently tried to set you up with her son. You cherished the relationship you had with her and will forever thank this silly book club for introducing the two of you.

“And that book, what a snooze” She nudged you. You will admit, the book Linda picked for this meeting was pretty bad. “I didn’t even finish it” You answered, earning a chuckle from the older woman.

“Dinner tomorrow night? I can give you my copy of the book I picked for the next meeting.” Mary suggested, linking your arms as you both walked out onto the street.

“Oh, I wish I could, I have a coworker’s birthday to go to, how does Sunday work?”

Mary huffed, “Joseph rejected my dinner invitation too, Sunday is perfect though, I’ll do a roast.”

You rolled your eyes at the mention of Marys son, she was always trying to get you both together to meet. Personally, an awkward dinner with Mary and her son sounded like a dreadful way to meet a potential love match, and the idea of dating your best friend/mother figure’s son had you feeling ill.

“I look forward to it then” You replied, bidding Mary a goodbye now at her car and watching as she drove away before making your way towards the station.

When you first moved to London only 6 months ago you realised very quickly, you had no fucking friends. It was so scary being somewhere so big and so unfamiliar that you knew you needed kind safe people to guide you through the city. Stumbling upon a Facebook group had you joining this book club where you easily became the youngest in the group, but the ladies absolutely adored you, Mary in particular. Months later, you are now well established in the city and well read.

-

The pub was crowded, and the smell of too strong cologne had gone straight to your head, creating a dull ache. Still, you kept drinking, hoping the number you make your feet, your head will also calm down. The booth you occupied was crammed with an assortment of too drunk coworkers and too sober coworkers, staying much later than they really needed to be polite.

“Another drink birthday girl?” You yelled over the crowd. Your coworker, Stacy, nodded her head eagerly. Squeezing out of the booth you made your way towards the bar, which was no surprise just as busy. Your head a little fuzzy remained sore and you could only think the antidote would be another glass of wine. Squished up against the bar you ordered and waited patiently for the bartender to pour your two glasses. Suddenly an elbow to the ribs had you groaning in pain, just your luck, you thought.

“I am so sorry, oh my god, are you okay?” A mans voice spoke from behind you, you turned around to see a group of men all staring back at you, the one closest with the biggest most concerned eyes you had ever seen.

“I’m such an asshole I’m so sorry” He repeated his apology.

Your eyes were blurry, but you could still recognise that face, one you had seen on a certain woman’s phone multiple times.

“Joe?”

The man in front of you looked shocked and the men around him chuckled.

“Another fan, mate?” One teased him.

“Sorry, oh wow, that was so creepy” You rushed trying to save yourself. “I know your mum.”

The shock in the room didn’t dissipate.

“Fuck that sounds worse, I’m in her book club, I’m so sorry this is so awkward”.

You felt a heat crawl up to the tips of your ears and your stomach churned. This was worse than sitting with your coworkers, you should have never said anything.

“Oh yes!” Joe suddenly lit up, “Mums told me heaps about you”.

That didn’t make it any better, given the way you know Mary had spoken about you to Joe.

You chuckled, “Yeah you too” Joe laughed back, the tension now so thick you felt like you couldn’t breathe. This seemed more horrible than Mary uncomfortably introducing you both herself.

“You’re coming to dinner tomorrow then?” Joe asked, snapping you back into reality.

“Dinner?” You asked, heart sinking and head racing, screaming out a chorus of ‘no, no, no, no’.

“Yeah, mums roast, she said you’ll be coming, something about the next book”.

You suddenly realised you were still at the bar and quickly snatched your drinks from the counter, smiling back at Joe.

“Of course, wouldn’t miss it.”

[inevitablemoment]

Chapter 21: The Lake House

The last time that everyone was at the lake house before Egon and Cathleen left.

[rubywolffxxx]

Polo Position (Formula 1 x lectora)

Resumen: La cena de Navidad pasó sin pena ni gloria, con una confesión extraña y la votación final para el stream especial.

Masterlist de capítulos

Masterlist de mi autoría

~ Capitulo anterior Capítulo siguiente ~

~ XXVII ~

El descanso había terminado, y los pilotos volvieron a sus lugares en la gran mesa para retomar la discusión. Otra vez Tania estaría en las nubes, con la diferencia de que Lando sí se animaría a escribirle en esta ocasión.

"¿Qué dibujas ahora? ¿Peces otra vez?"

Tania levantó la mirada, barriendo el lugar hasta encontrar a Lando. Le sonrió apenas lo encontró al frente, pero su mirada volvió a su libreta, garabateando apurada algo que solo le generaba más y más curiosidad al piloto.

Lando sonrió, mirando a la mujer que le guiñaba un ojo de forma disimulada. La vio cerrar su agenda y finalmente prestar atención a la reunión. Terminó reclamando mejores y más rápidas decisiones en cuanto a inclemencias del clima, reclamos que Russell no tardó en apoyar.

—Kiki. Osito.—

Apenas salió de la reunión, Tania siguió a su par de amigos, colgándose de los hombros del segundo.

—¿Sigue en pie lo de Navidad?—Oliver la abrazó por la cintura, sintiéndose bien por la cercanía.

—Si, querido. Ven a casa luego del brindis, subiremos a la azotea. Ya pedí permiso.—Tania presionó sus mejillas con cariño al romper el abrazo—. Haremos un video corto al final diciendo los ganadores del sorteo ¿Te parece bien?—

—Lo que tu quieras, linda... Imagino que yo ganaré.—

—Eso lo decide la gente, no yo. Pide que voten por ti, Osito...—

Tras unas vagas charlas y saludos en la entrada del predio, cada piloto se fue por su parte, y Tania no sería la excepción. Quería irse temprano, pues debía organizar lo que haría en Navidad. En su país el horario iba diferente, por lo que quería saludar a sus padres a tiempo. Y para eso quería estar tranquila. Sola. En su casa.

Luego iría con Mary para Noche buena.

—Es muuuy de los Villaquien, del Grinch... Pero es hermoso ¿No crees?—

Oliver miraba embelesado como la mujer daba pequeñas vueltitas, haciendo que el vestido ondeara con gracia.

—Muy hermoso, sí... ¿Segura de que quieres estar afuera? Hace frío para que estés con esa ropa.—

—Oh, no te preocupes. Usaré un blazer... Y estoy lo suficientemente alcoholizada como para no tener frio.—Tania tomó unas botellas y las acomodó en la hielera, caminando a la entrada de su departamento—. ¿Vamos?—

Después del brindis en casa de Mary, Tania pasó un rato más con la mujer y su familia. Pero en cuanto Oliver le envió un mensaje, ya estaba en un taxi camino a su hogar.

—¿Fue buena la cena al menos?—Oliver subió al ascensor, mirando a la mujer que subía detrás de él.

—Fue bonita, la casa de Mary es un lujo y su familia es linda... Pero la verdad es que el espíritu navideño aquí es muy diferente al de casa... Extraño el aire de Argentina, su calidez... Todos menos el caluroso e insoportable clima... ¿Qué hay de ti? ¿Thomas pudo cenar con ustedes?—

—Si, los cinco nos reunimos en casa... Pero no son tan divertidas las cenas festivas. No desde que papá ya no quiere ver a sus hermanos. Me gustaba cuando nos reuníamos todos...—

—Si, suele pasar. Mi padre tampoco tiene buena relación con su hermano... Como sea, ya no importa. Estamos los dos aquí, con alcohol y un pequeño reproductor de música. Será divertido.—Oliver le sonrió.

En cuanto llegaron al último piso, salieron del ascensor y subieron a la azotea por la escalera, pues era un trayecto que debía hacerse sí o sí a pie. Asi que ahí estaban, subiendo entre risas la breve docena de escalones. El frío los golpeó de prepo al abrir la puerta de acceso a la azotea, y por un segundo se cuestionaron la elección. Eso disminuyó al ver que el encargado del hotel había dejado una estufa de exterior en el pequeño jardin del lugar. Tania se apresuró en dejar las cosas sobre la pequeña mesita y encender la calefacción.

—Ahora sí...—Corrió el pequeño sofá hacia debajo de un techo para resguardarse de la nieve, tumbándose en el sofá—. Ven, Osito. Acompáñame.—palmeó a un lado.

Oliver se sentó a su lado, suspirando con alivio. Entonces echó la cabeza hacia atrás, notando algo colgando del techo.

—Mira.—señaló el manojo de hojas sobre sus cabezas.

—¿Y esto qué es? Parece el ramo de olivos del miércoles de ceniza.—

—Es un muérdago, genia ¿No hay de esos en tu pais?... ¿Qué es eso de cenizas?—

—Semana santa, cosa de cristianos... como sea. No, esa cosa es tradición de tu pais.—sirvió un poco de vodka y jugo de naranja en un vaso, mirando el dichoso muérdago—. ¿Qué hacen con las ramitas?—

—Si dos personas se paran debajo, se deben dar un beso.—

Para sorpresa de Oliver, Tania apretó sus mejillas cual sándwich y dejó un beso en su frente.

—¿Feliz?—Oliver rió nervioso.

—En la frente no cuenta.—

—... ¿En la mejilla?—la chica lo miró con curiosidad antes de darle un sorbo a su bebida. Pero Oliver no contestó.

Tania dejó el vaso sobre la mesita y se acercó dispuesta a darle un beso en la mejilla, pero en cuanto sus labios rozaron su piel, Oliver volteó el rostro. Y sus labios encontraron los de ella.

—Oliver...—Tania se alejó enseguida, sintiendo que el alcohol se disipaba de su cuerpo por la situación.

—Estoy perdidamente enamorado de ti, Tania...—soltó en un arrebato de sinceridad. Sintiendo que era su momento.

La mujer lo miró con sorpresa, sin saber qué decir.

—... Somos amigos, Oliver. Debes estar confundido y no-

—No es nada de eso, llevo meses dándole vueltas al asunto y estoy muy seguro de esto.—el chico se sintió impaciente al ver la expresión conflictiva de la mujer.

—Yo... Lo siento pero no puedo corresponder esto que sientes... No...—suspiró—. No sé qué decirte.—

—No hace falta que digas nada...Lo sé.—Oliver sonrió con cierta decepción—. Solo... quería que lo supieras, ya me pesaba el sentimiento.—Se lleva la mano al pecho—. Sé que no soy Lando o Charles como para tener tu atención pero-

La chica lo abrazó con fuerzas.

—Tú eres mucho más importante para mi que ellos, Oliver... Y sé que no es lo que quieres escuchar pero... Eres un gran amigo, y te quiero muchísimo.—lo abrazó aún más fuerte—. De verdad lo siento...—Oliver la abrazó de vuelta.

—¿No hay una mínima oportunidad de que me dejes intentar algo?—

Tal vez en otro momento, Tania hubiese dicho que si.

Podrían intentarlo. Dos amigos, despejando dudas y descubriendo sentimientos... No le desagradaba la idea, pues Oliver llegó a interesarle en cierto punto, durante sus épocas de Formula 2. Pero ahora la piloto tenía ya demasiadas cuestiones sentimentales como para también sumar otra. Y lo último que quería era lastimar a Oliver. No quería darle ilusiones donde no las había.

—No, corazón... Prefiero evitar dramas entre nosotros.—Tania se separó de él, pero no tardó en acomodarse a su lado, recostando la cabeza en su hombro—. Te quiero mucho como para generarte confusiones.—

—... ¿A Kimi le hubieses dado chance?—

—Ah, a él sí, por supuesto.—respondió con seguridad, haciéndolo reír por lo bajo.

—¿Esto es porque no me gustan los zombies?—

—Pues claro.—

Un silencio algo raro los rodeó, pero al menos el momento tenso ya había pasado.

—¿Cómo será todo ahora? Creo... Que arruiné nuestra amistad.—Tania negó, acurrucándose a su lado.

—Yo no quiero que te alejes... Asi que si no te molesta, quédate conmigo ¿Si?—Oliver se relajó, pasando su brazo por la espalda de la mujer y acercándola aún más.

—Claro que me quedaré...—

Puede que ella lo haya rechazado de la forma más suave y considerada posible, pero Oliver no daría todo por perdido. Todavía conservaría esperanzas.

Y mientras tanto, se conformaría con su cercanía.

Lando.

Franco.

Carlos.

Liam.

Esos fueron los ganadores de la votación.

—¿Por qué alguien votaría al boludo de Lawson?—

—Pensé que te caia bien.—

—No es que me caiga mal o bien pero... ¿Por qué no ganó Yuki o Lewis?—

—Porque a la gente le gusta joder.—Franco miraba divertido a su amiga, quien revisaba por millonésima vez los resultados—. ¿Soy copiloto?—

—No, corazón. El más votado fue Lando, asi que vos te vas atrás.—lo escuchó quejarse.

La chica se dedicó a avisarle a todos sobre los resultados, para confirmar su disponibilidad el día siguiente.

—Lando seguro se va a reunir con la zorra de Magui... Esa chica no me gusta.—

—A vos no te gusta nadie...—Franco revisó los mensajes que le envió a los pilotos—. Mirá, Lando contestó.—

—¿Qué dice?—la chica se colgó de su hombro.

—"Lo tomo. Tomaré lo que sea que tú me ofrezcas, corazón"... Que horror.—Franco le lanzó el celular a la chica, quien sonrió por la mueca de asco de su amigo.

Tania revisó el celular, sonriendo aún más al ver que Lando dejaba un último mensaje.

"Ya tengo tu regalo conmigo ¿Te importa si te lo llevo esta noche a tu casa?"