#my mom said 'what in the marvin gaye' when i told her and that about sums it up

[distance-does-not-matter]

update on the dating app guy: he made it so that if i did in fact meet up with him, i would not be able to defend myself from the egg on my face, so i had to call it off. also some of the stuff was :/ but the funniest was what i am calling the peacocking

[hookingminor]

“In awe, the first time you realised it” with Mat Barzal please🥺

31. In awe, the first time you realised it

I swear all my favorite things I've written are for barz, this is also so self-indulgent for me bc my love language is playlists

-

You and Mat had been dating for just under a year now, still in the honeymoon phase of your relationship even after a few fights, and he swore you were the only person he would never get tired of. The weekends you spent at his apartment, the Saturday morning markets you always dragged him to, the nights he curled on your couch watching TV while you worked away at the kitchen table, there was no such thing as too much time with you.

The feeling nagged at the back of Mat’s mind, subtle and quiet, a distant voice telling him he was in love with you even if his brain hadn’t completely registered it yet. Your relationship was comfortable. You moved around each other with an ease Mat had never known, as if you’d spent years together and now lived in routines that revolved around the other. He hadn’t even processed how used to being around you he’d gotten until your first summer apart had hit.

He thought about you all the time, wondering whether or not you’d like the outfit he chose when he went out with friends, whether you’d enjoy his mom’s cooking, whether you were thinking about him all the way back in New York when he was in Coquitlam.

By the time fall came back around, he was ready to ask you to move in even if neither of you had said those words yet. Mat just missed you all the time. It didn’t matter how much time you spent apart, he was counting the hours until he saw you again.

It was only when the two of you packed your bags and climbed into his car, ready for a weekend road trip upstate that the overwhelming feeling of how much he loved you hit him. You chose to drive, knowing Mat’s proclivities for driving a little too fast would’ve made you insane during the four hour ride to the secluded cabin he rented. In turn, he got to choose the music, though you made him compromise that he’d split the time between both of your spotifys.

Yours and Mat’s music taste didn’t always mesh well, and while he knew your account and followed it, he never delved into the playlists you curated. At the two hour mark, he unlocked your phone and scrolled through your account, clicking through a few playlists as he tried to find one that he wouldn’t completely hate.

He came across one titled happiness, the playlist photo piquing his curiosity. It was a little further down the list, about halfway through your nearly twenty playlists, and he recognized the picture as his own head. There were no discernible features, only his hair as his head rested on your chest and your fingers curled in the strands, but Mat knew it was him.

One by one, he read over each song in the playlist. The theme seemed all over the place, ranging from slow songs to upbeat pop to hip-hop, and his curiosity got the best of him.

“Babe, what’s this playlist?” He asked, stretching your phone so you could check the screen. You only took a brief glance, noticing the title immediately and shifting your focus back to the road.

“Oh, it’s just a bunch of songs that remind me of you,” you answered with an apathetic shrug. You added the first song a week after you met Mat after your first date when you knew that you wouldn’t be letting him go any time soon.

Mat furrowed his brows, not quite sure what Christmas Eve by Kelly Clarkson or Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye had to do with him, but he pressed shuffle anyways.

The first song that came on was Flightless Bird, American Mouth, and Mat vaguely remembered hearing this before.

“Why’s this one on it?” He asked.

“Remember when I made you watch Twilight even though you complained the entire time? You said you thought this song sounded nice, so I added it,” you explained.

“And Bloom?” Mat questioned, finding another song title he didn’t know.

“It was a song that played in the cafe during our first date.”

“Shoop?”

“That one night we stayed up until three baking brownies because we were drunk and hungry, we sang it, like, four times dancing in the kitchen,” you said.

It turned out every song on the playlist had some underlying meaning as to why you added it. There was the song you first slow danced to at a teammate’s wedding, the song you chose to karaoke to once at a bar, the song Mat always played first thing upon turning on his car for a couple weeks whenever he drove anywhere, songs he found himself singing under his breath while not realizing you were listening, his favorite Taylor Swift songs even though he would publicly claim he didn’t listen to her, songs he went crazy for every time they played in clubs. Every song had a story.

Mat didn’t ask you for the explanation for each one, not wanting to annoy you with his many questions, but he connected the dots soon enough after you told him Green Light by Lorde was on there because of how many times you and Mat had watched through New Girl, but more specifically, the scene where Nick and Jess finally get together.

A few sparked memories in his own head, the Khalid songs you made him listen to the one time you convinced him to get high with you, the Kendrick songs he swore were the best rap songs ever made, even a few Bieber songs you found more tolerable than others since you weren’t a fan of him but Mat was.

The playlist was nearing fifty songs, all recounting moments in your relationship over the past year, and Mat’s chest tightened in a way he’d never felt before.

He was in love with you.

You didn’t even bat an eye explaining the meaning of each song, every story fresh in your mind and you told him each one without hesitation. Had it not been for your eyes on the road, you probably would’ve noticed the tears welling in his eyes, though he quickly brushed them away.

His heart was so full of love for you, how you paid attention to every detail, and there was no doubt in his mind he was in love.

“You good?” You glanced over quickly, curious as to why he was quiet all of a sudden.

“Yeah, I’m good.” He cleared his throat.

“I love you.”

That caught your attention immediately, and you looked back at him, your own eyebrows slightly drawn together in confusion as the outburst.

“Yeah?” You asked. The words had been on the tip of your tongue for so long you could probably trace it back to the first time you met him, but you kept it to yourself. Mat was always cautious with his words, never wanting to say anything he didn’t fully believe, and you didn’t want to scare him off saying it too early.

“Yeah,” he replied confidently. Grabbing the hand resting on the gearshift, he intertwined your fingers and brought it to his lips. “I love you." Gently, Mat kissed your knuckles.

Your own heart felt like bursting at the soft look on his face. “I love you too.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that,” he chuckled, wide grins spreading across both of your faces.

You brought his knuckles to your own lips, placing a soft kiss on them before letting your joined hands rest across the middle console. The remainder of the drive was silent, neither of you starting a conversation as you let your playlist take you the rest of the way.

[queenoftheworldisdead]

The Cookout

Note: Inspired by art from @nix-akimbo seen here.

Summery: Your friend’s mom invites you over to neighborhood cook out.

Warning: Sex in a shed. Rough sex, cream pie, choking, spanking

Bucky x Reader

As soon as Sam's mom opened the door she lit up like a Christmas tree. You were in town and thought you should swing by, before heading back out of town.

"I feel like I haven't seen you in forever!" Mrs.Wilson squealed.

"Sorry I'm just so busy at work that I don't have time to come out to these parts often."

Mrs. Wilson released you and shouted out to her son.  Moving to the side she walked you through the house where you found your childhood best bud unpacking groceries.

"Well, aren't you the domestic" you kid the goofball.

"Aye!" Sam shouted, arms out stretched, putting down the item in his hand to rush over and hug you. "What are you doing here?"

"Just swinging by. I am heading back to the city tonight."

"Oh no! Stay the night. The neighbors are putting together a big  BBQ party tomorrow. I'm making ribs" she nudged you with a wink. Your stomach nearly growled from that alone. Mrs.Wilson's cooking was legendary.

Living in the city you rarely cooked for yourself. Sustaining heavily on a diet of takeout or frozen confections.

"Hmmm" you pondered playfully "What do I need to bring?"

"Nothing but your appetite" Sam chimed in.

"Well OK then, let me see if I can get my room, back and I will come round ar.."

"Girl don't make me spank you! Sam's house is big enough for you too. Sam! Go get her things out the car!" You laughed as she barked orders at her boy.

Back in the day you could not have imagine this super religious woman would ever allow you to sleep under the same roof as her boy, but times seemed to have really changed. But you slightly figured ulterior motives were at play.

The next day you arose to the sound of Marvin Gaye and smokey charcoal from the large barbecue grill outside.

After brushing your teeth, washing your face and slapping on some yoga pants and loose tee you make your way down to the kitchen.

Thankfully a pot was already percolating and of course Mrs. Wilson had set a side a plate of bacon, eggs and toast with a note addressed to you.

Walking over to the cabinet you waved to Sam and his mother, the pair arguing over something on the grill outside. The familiar sight of their banter bringing a smile to your face.

Searching the cabinets you sing to yourself as the Isley Brothers started to play.

"And who are you?" A strange voice startled you from behind.

"Oh shit!" You screeched, dropping the procaine cup in fright.

"Sorry Doll didn't mean to scare you."

His open Hawaiian shirt exposed his tattooed arms and chest. Your eyes scanned his body, your teeth dragging across your bottom lip as he stood before you.

"See something you like Doll?"

"I-i um" you stutter out.

"James!" Mrs.Wilson shouted as she came through the patio door.

"Good morning beautiful!" He smiled turning his attention away from you to her.

She embraced and hugged the stranger. Sam's mother stepped back and introduced you to him. Stretching out a hand he asked that you call him 'Bucky'.

"Nice to meet you."

"She is an old friend of Sam's, just in town for a bit." She explained to him.

"James lives next door and served with Sam, helping to protect my baby." Mrs. Wilson pinched his cheeks adorably making you giggle.

"Hey man!" Sam called from behind you. "Come around to steel our secret recipe huh?"

Bucky held his hands up in surrender, the two men chatted while Mrs. Wilson stayed back with you. You watched the exchange while picking up the pieces of the shattered cup from the floor.

Mrs. Wilson sent you on a quick errand to pick up a few bottles of Hennessy and Crown Royal. As you drove back to the neighborhood the party was already starting to kick off.

Parking in front, you unloaded the car and brought in the bottles. Fumbling with the door as you try and open it a hard body brushed up against you making you gasp.

"You scare easily don't you Doll?"

The smooth sound of Bucky's voice appeared from behind you. You scoffed at his remark. Taking one of the bags from your grasp, he opened the door and pushed past you.

Following behind you both march to the kitchen and through the back door. Placing the booze on a picnic table that was beginning to be stuffed with food and drink.

You looked around for the familiar faces of Sam or his mother, but weren't around. Presumable making their rounds to the other houses.

"You look like a lost puppy Doll." Bucky said as he poured a drink into one of the plastic cups.

"Not really a party person" You shrugged, Bucky passed you a cup and you reluctantly took it. The generous pourer didn't dink mix the hard liquor with soda so the burn was strong.

"Moved on from scaring and now trying to kill me huh?" You popped open a coke to dilute the awful drink.

"Sam never mentioned you were such a light weight." Bucky teased.

“Sam doesn’t mention a lot of things its seems.”

He was handsome and you were sure he knew it. He hovered around you, talking to neighbors that passed by. While you took out your phone a sipped your drink.

"If you are done baby sitting your drink do you think you can help me with something?" Bucky asked.

"What?"

"I need help getting the extra tables out of the shed. Can't find Sam so I figured you would do."

You ignored the way he looked you up and down. "Fine lets go."

Walking behind him to the shed, he opened the door and allowed you to walk in first. The small cramped space held a rusted muscle car that Sam had told you he was going to fix up. The old clunker surrounded by rusty tools and folded tables. Bucky squeezed past you, accidentally knocking you forward onto the hood of the car.

"Hey watch it Bucko." You scolded him as you try and push up.

"Sorry Doll" he paused finally noticing your awkward position. Pulling back from the tables he moved to squeeze behind you again.

When he pressed his cock on your ass you felt instant heat.

"Do you mind? Kinda hard for me to move with you like this." You looked over your shoulder at him.

"I can see why Sam has kept quiet about you now" rubbing his groan on you, standing up straight he didn't allow for any space.

"I think the tables are over there." changing the subject, you point and try to move, but he placed hands on either side of you not allowing you to move.

"Big city girl so up tight" he spoke into the shell of your ear.  Bucky's cock felt hard as he pressed on the fat of your ass.

"You know I think they might be looking for us" you try and move again, but Bucky bumped you a harder with his hips.

"Nah they're fine" Bucky hummed as he hooked his thumbs in the waist band of your yoga pants. Your hands move to the top of his and you hesitate to pry him off. The buzz of the booze started to course through your veins. Pulling your pants down past your ass you couldn't find the strength to stop him.

Bucky pushed your shoulder forward and you found yourself on the hood of the car again. A part of you wanted to bring an end to this while the other half blamed it on the alcohol.

"Fuck Doll your already making me pre come." Bucky tapped the head of his cock on your as and growled. You could feel yourself grow wet, thinking about him putting his cock inside you.

With one hand gripping your hip, he guided his tip to your folds. Playing with your wetness, teasing you with gentle pressure at your entrance. "We should probably s-stop" you started to stutter. Thinking of how you didn't want Sam or his mom to find you like this.

Bucky only tsk'd as he pressed in to part your slick lips with his dick. The slow stretching made you moan lowly. A hard smack came across your ass making you hiss in pain.

"Don't be shy on my account Doll" he pushed his weight into your ass, leaning into your ear."I want to hear you scream."

"Mmm" you grit your teeth as you try and adjust to his size.

"So tight Doll, you fit me so good."

Standing up straight, Bucky pulled your hips back with it. Rocking his hips slowly into you, smacking your ass with each odd stroke. Your hands cup the side of the car for support as  you threw it back on him. Bucky groaned watching you bounce on his cock, praising your efforts to take him deeper before taking control again.

The music of the party bled through the walls giving you the courage to moan louder as be fucked you. You didn't care that your knees hit hard against the tires of the beat up car. Or that each stroke had you gasping as he hit the inner wall of your mound. Now the idea of being caught made this event all the more exciting.

"Fuck Bucky!" You shouted as your hands move to scrub against the hood of the car.

"That's it Doll, tell me who you belong to." His cocky tone bringing out your bratty side. Looking over your shoulder, Bucky's body glistened in the dimly lit room.  

When he locked eyes with you, you shake your head no. His cocky smirk returned with the build between your legs.

He gave a hard thrust and it took every thing just to choke it down. Pushing and holding himself deep inside of you, the fullness almost too much to bare. Your feet dance in place as Bucky's hand snaked up your spine, wrapping around smoothing over your breast until he rested on your neck. His grip tightened on your throat, forcing your back into an uncomfortable angle. Your hands barely able to touch the hood of the car.

"Fuck shit!" You choked out.

"That's not my name Doll" he growled as he made his grip tighter around your neck. His hips slammed into yours with a punishing pace.

"Ahh shit fuck" you moan out as you feel your mound start to throb.

"Still not my name. Say it!" He commanded.

You couldn't take it, you felt so full. Your pussy stuffed with his dick, your eyes start to roll as he grunted your name.

"Bucky! Bucky! Shit!" You mewled out as your cunt worked his dick while you cum.

His victorious chuckles mixed with a primal moan. His pace steady as a warmness filled you, leaking out past him and down your thigh. Bucky's cock twitched as he emptied himself inside of you.

"Shit! Did you cum in me!" you exclaim as he slowly pulled out. His seed dripping slowly down your leg, turning to face him, he only gave a shrug and a smile. Pulling up your pants you fume at his irresponsibility and your own stupidity.

[kniesyswrld]

Faith• a. nylander

(Y/n has been in a coma for 2+ months, but no one believes she’ll wake up except for Alex)

Warning(s): Coma, Fowl Language, and a Sad Alex

Sorry if you don’t like stories like this 😬

Song Inspired By: Ain’t No Mountain High Enough by Marvin Gaye

The car crash I was involved in happened about 2 1/2 months ago, it was with my boyfriend Alex but he barely got a cut, while I flew out the car windshield.

“Doc, this is getting ridiculous. My son is here EVERYDAY and she isn’t awake, she’s been sent to 4 different hospitals, and he now sucks at his job.” Alex’s mom says.

I heard Alex’s soft cries, “I know she hears me, I love you babygirl.” Alex says and I just wanted to say something so badly.

“I just need her voice.” Alex says with a soft cry, “Alex she isn’t gonna wake up, bud.” William, his brother, says. “Do not fucking say that! How could you? You are a piece of shit.” Alex shouts.

I heard my mom cry, “Alex I know you are hurting, but I don’t think she’ll wake up either.” I hear my mom say, that broke me knowing my mom lost hope too.

“She hears you. She probably is super upset that you guys ALL lost hope for her.” Alex defends my case, I heard everyone sigh.

I heard a chair creek, “Alex, hunny, I know you are upset that she is still in this coma but she needs to be forgotten. You literally haven’t been happy for a long time.” My mom says.

“How could you say that about your own daughter? I know Y/n, she is fighting for her life everyday and she WILL wake up, don’t doubt her. I can’t be happy without her.” Alex says.

I felt something happen and my eyes slowly fluttered open, the room got silent. All that was heard was Alex’s sobs.

“Al.” My mom says and he shook his head, “Alex, look!” William says, Alex looks at me and saw my eyes open.

He gasped, “Doc, she’s up!” Alex shouts with happy tears falling down his face, he kissed my lips and I can’t kiss back for some reason.

“Can you talk?” He asked and I tried, but held my throat. I shook my head, “She won’t be able to talk for about 1 week.” The doctor says.

Alex nods, “It’s only a week, babygirl. We can do it!” He smiled and I nod. “Buddy, I am so sorry.” William says to his brother.

“Me too.” My mom says.

“Me as well.” His mom says.

Alex ignores the apologies, “Don’t be. I’m just glad she is awake.” He smiled at me, he grabs my hand and kissed it.

“God, thank you.” Alex cried against me, I just wanted to cry myself. “I love you.” He says to me and runs his hands through my hair.

A tear slips down my face and I bit my lip, “Do we have a dry erase board?” Alex asked and everyone shook their head.

“I’m using the doctors.” He says and takes it off of the wall, erasing all the shit that was already on there. He hands the board to me and smiled, “Just right what you have to say for the next week, okay?” Alex says with a hopeful smile.

I nod, I grab it from him. “I love you so much, Alex. I appreciate you for never giving up on me.” I wrote and he bit his lip, hoping that he wouldn’t cry.

“It’s okay to cry, baby.” I wrote on the board and that’s all it took because he full on started to bawl his eyes out.

I put the board down and hold my arms out, he takes the offer of the hug and he kissed my head. “Only 1 more week, hunny.” Alex says to me.

“We can do it.” I wrote on the board, everyone in the room is holding one hand on their heart and the other is a tissue to wipe their tears and snot.

I wave to my mom, “Hunny.” She sobs, she ran over and kissed my head. I tried to say mom but my mouth simply wouldn’t even move.

“I can’t believe that you are awake. This is a gift from god himself.” My mom cried, I bit my lip but I started to cry.

I wave at Alex’s family and they wave back with tears on their faces. “I love all of you.” I wrote onto the board, “We all love you.” They all reply.

1 Week Later

Alex was sitting next to my bed with his head in his phone and I sighed, “Alex.” I managed to say, he dropped his phone on the floor and looks at me with a huge smile.

“You talked?!” He says and I nod, “I did, Alex! I can talk now!!” I say excitedly, but cough because too much excitement is still too much my body can take since I just woke up a week ago.

He kissed my face, “I want to go home.” I say and wipe the tears falling down my face, “Tomorrow is when you can the doctor says.” He told me.

“We can wait one more day.” I said and he nods with a sigh, “I can never drive again.” I told him and start to cry. “Im so sorry, baby.” He says and I look down.

He grabs my hand, “Are you hungry? I can down to the food court.” He told me. “I’m good. Thanks, baby.” I say and use the tissue to wipe the mess on my face.

“I love you, Y/n.” He says with a lip bite, “I love you more, Alex.” I replied with a sniffle. He grabs my face and we slowly kiss, “Can’t wait to go home.” I chuckled, he does too.

[doubleleoenergy]

III; BLUE BAYOU SERIES

Oh that boy of mine, by my side. The silver moon and the evening tide.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: TFAWS!Sam Wilson x fem!Reader

Summary: Sam and y/n don’t want their first date to end.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; oral (female receiving), passionate sex, a BIT fo dirty talk (we love to see it Sam)

Word Count: 3529

Author’s Notes: And we finally get a bit of smut! I am thinking of doing a few more parts to this series, flashing forward weeks and months to different aspects of their new relationship.

“Well then, I’ll lead the way.” Sam is still holding onto their hand, stepping onto the sidewalk and walking silently next to each other. It isn’t AWKWARD at all, the silence between them, it feels comfortable just to be next to each other. The night is quiet, a few cars passing here and there, an occasional jogger or couple walking past, but for the most part they were alone.

They walked a few blocks down from the restaurant and Sam tugged y/n to the other side of the street, stopping outside the small family-owned corner store. He turns his attention to y/n’s face, noticing the light splattering of freckles on her cheeks. “What’s your favorite ice cream flavor?”

She scrunches her nose, cocking her head to the side. “Chocolate chip cookie dough, DEFINITELY.” Sam slips his hand out of hers, opening the door of the store, soliciting a ring from the bell overhead. “Perfect, I’ll be right back.”

Once inside the small store he heads straight for the freezers against the wall, eyes scanning until he finds a pint of Ben & Jerry’s in the flavor of her choice, grabbing it along with two plastic spoons by the slurpee machine. He walks to the front, greeting the young man behind the counter with a smile and purchasing the ice cream.

Walking back outside, Sam holds the bag with the items up to show y/n, moving to grab her hand again INSTINCTIVELY. “Now that we’ve got dessert, I know a great spot to sit.” 

They continue to walk down the sidewalk, street lamps illuminating the walkway by the dock ahead. Sam used to come down here with his high school buddies after a night out downtown. They’d always stop at the same corner store he had to grab their late night MUNCHIES before sitting on the docks for hours, talking about anything and everything. He felt his most free on the docks by the water.

The dock CREAKS slightly under their feet as they walk, heading to the familiar wooden benches near the end. Sam motions for y/n to sit, moving beside her and opening the plastic bag, pulling out the pint and spoons and tucking the bag into his jacket pocket to keep it from blowing away. He opens the pint and sets the lid next him, holding out the spoons.

“You really know the way to my HEART.” Y/N takes one of the spoons from his hand, swirling her spoon into the container until she pulls up a spoonful of the creamy delight. She opens her mouth, letting the flavors melt onto her taste buds, smiling at the comforting flavor. Ben and Jerry’s had gotten her through a LOT of trauma and heartbreak in her life. The wind picks up once more, sending shivers down y/n’s spine, Sam taking notice and immediately peeling off his jacket.

“Here, take this.” Before she can protest he’s draping it over her shoulders, the size of his jacket making her look even more PETITE. “I usually run pretty hot, and I’m used to the nights here.”

She silently thanks him, watching him indulge in the ice cream as well. “Well, I guess I should know better since I lived in Colorado, but I don’t go out much at NIGHT.” Her eyes move back to the ice cream, twisting her spoon into the pint again. “You know, Sarah said she’s so happy to have you back in town, and I can tell the boys are too. You’re really good with them.”

Sam nods, taking another spoonful of ice cream. “Yeah, I’m happy too. It’s IMPORTANT that the boys have a man around. Sarah has been handling this all unbelievably since her husband passed, but I know there are things that the boys need to know that Sarah shouldn’t have to teach them. For instance, how to fix things around the house so Sarah doesn’t have to do EVERYTHING, and of course the whole ‘birds and the bees’ scenario.” That was one really awkward night for the three of them. All of it is a blessing though, he LOVES being back with his family, although he misses his mom and dad a lot more now that he’s home permanently. He hopes they’re proud of him and everything he and Sarah have accomplished, they were before but now things were DIFFERENT.

Speaking of accomplishments, not once has he mentioned the whole Captain America thing, and he figures now’s as good a time as any. He clears his throat, eyes looking up to meet y/n’s again. “Y/N, there’s something I need to tell you…” She laughs softly, reaching a hand out to touch his leg comfortingly.

“Sam, I KNOW you’re Captain America.”

His face contorts with multiple emotions, finally settling on confusion. “Wait, you do?”

Her hand squeezes his thigh, not taking her eyes off of him. “Of course, I mean you’re all over the news and everyone in town talks about you being here. Also, Sarah literally has a picture of you in the suit in her living room.” As if she HADN’T known, it was literally everything anyone was talking about the past few months, even back in Colorado. Now that she lives in the same town as him, her students mention it all the time in her class, talking about run-ins with Sam at the grocery store or visiting the family business just to meet him.

“And you’re not...weirded out?” She’s the only person he’s met since becoming Captain America that didn’t treat him like he was a superhero, like he was UNTOUCHABLE. She was here, sitting on a bench, treating him as Sam Wilson. “Why didn’t you mention that you knew I was Captain America sooner?”

“I can’t say I’ve had my fair share of dates with superheroes, but no, I’m not weirded out. If you ever need someone to talk to, I’ve been told I’m great at listening. And also at keeping secrets.” She had no reason to tell things that others confided in her in private, her father had always taught her the importance of others' secrets staying SECRET. “Why would I mention it? You’re not JUST Captain America, you’re much more than that. You’re Sam Wilson, and that’s the guy who asked me out yesterday, and the guy I’ve been talking to all night. He’s the guy I wanted to get to know. Not that I don’t want to know Captain America but that’s just not ALL of you.”

Sam grins from ear to ear, a deep chuckle escaping at her words. He liked that he could trust her, of course he wasn’t allowed to tell her CLASSIFIED information, but he could tell her some of his life, the parts he had only shared with Sarah up until now. And even then, some of the darker parts he didn’t want to burden his sister with. 

His eyes are hyperfocusing on her now, the light of one of the street lamps giving him an even closer look at her features. Her eyes, he notices, have flecks of GOLD within the irises that are more apparent now. Her perfume is wafting from her soft skin again, and he watches as she takes another bit of ice cream, plump lips parting and tongue swirling over the spoon. She looks INTOXICATING, like the personification of the first flowers in spring, or the feeling when your skin first soaks in the rays of sunshine on a summer day.

Before he can even think Sam’s hand moves out to cup her chin, tilting her head and leaning in, lips pressing against hers. Y/N is surprised, but doesn’t break the kiss, instead moving her hand to the back of his neck. She can TASTE the ice cream on his lips, and can feel how perfectly they mold against her own. They hold the kiss for a moment before y/n moves back, a wispy breath leaving her lips.

“Sorry if that was...well, uh, that was my first kiss in….well a LONG time.” Sam states, but y/n tries to reassure him by placing her hand back in his. “No, it was fine. That was my first kiss in a while too but...I liked it.”

She’s been so caught up that she hadn’t realized how dark it had gotten, her free hand running through her tousled curls. “It’s getting darker and this dress is not best for the cold.” She also realized how stupid it had been to not drive her car, but she wasn’t sure how late she’d be out and she only lived a few stop lights down from the restaurant. “My apartment is close, I actually walked to the restaurant since it was such a nice night, would you mind driving me back to my place?”

Sam nods, standing up to throw the ice cream and spoons in a nearby trash can, moving back to her to re-grip her hand. “Of course, let’s get back before the wind flowing off the water starts to drop in temperature again.”

Y/N’s heart is beating loudly in her chest when they pull up to the apartment complex. It really was only a five minute drive from the restaurant, double that on foot. They had made small talk along the walk back to his truck and the ride, learning little interests the other had, y/n sharing her favorite things to bake and Sam listing off a few of his favorite Marvin Gaye songs.

“Let me walk you up.” Sam insists, opening the door to the truck for her and helping her hop down. He really was different from any man she’d been out with before. Most of the time they just offered to call her an UBER rather than driving her anywhere.

Y/N and Sam walk up the two flights of stairs to her apartment door, and y/n finally finds the keys in her purse and opens the front door. “Do you want to come in?” Her voice is innocent, turning back around to face him.

“Uh-yeah, sure.” It’s not like he had anything else planned that night. He steps inside as y/n flicks on a few lights on the wall, taking in the look of her apartment. It’s small, a one bedroom with a balcony overlooking the parking lot below. She has a large navy blue couch with a coffee table in the living room, along with a TV on a stand across from it. Upon further inspection there is no kitchen table, instead three cream-colored stools sitting along an extended countertop. There’s a few house plants on a shelf above the kitchen sink, and everything is very NEATLY in its place.

“You keep it clean like this all the time?” He asks, watching as y/n moves to brew them each a cup of coffee in her Keurig. 

“Oh, I obsessively clean. I can’t stand it when things aren’t in their place.” She had ALSO gotten that from her father, but she doesn’t mention it aloud. After the cups of coffee are brewed, she puts an average amount of sugar and cream in before y/n hands Sam one of the mugs of coffee. She grabs her own mug and takes a sip, leaning against the counter.

“You know, I really had a great time. I know it’s probably not normal to say this but I feel like I’m just…” He trails off, not wanting to sound corny. Screw it. “I’m DRAWN to you, y/n. I haven’t felt this way about someone in a long time.” He sets his mug down on the counter, staring at us as the liquid swirls around. 

Y/N chews softly on her bottom lip, fingers gripping the edge of her mug, taking another large gulp. She’s trying to figure out the right words to respond without looking like a total FOOL. The liquid from the coffee is warming her from the inside out, and she’s thankful to be out of the wind and having this discussion in the comforts of her apartment. A bit of a home-court advantage.

“No, that’s not weird. I agree, I mean...I LIKE you too, if that’s what you meant.” He’s finished about half of his coffee when she finally relays her feelings about him, a smile spreading on his lips. How did someone like her find HIM?

He looks at the clock on the stove, realizing it was already one in the morning. Had they really been out for that long? It didn’t FEEL like it. Sam clears his throat, moving to set his cup in the sink beside her. “I should probably go.” He’s about to grab his jacket that y/n had set on one of the stools but he stops and turns when he feels y/n’s hand grab the back of his arm.

“Sam…” She’s looking between his lips and his eyes before she leans up on her TIPPY toes to kiss him again. Sam doesn’t hesitate, wrapping one arm around her waist, letting his other hand move up so he can cup her face.

The kiss is more passionate this time than their first one on the dock, and she moves her hands to wrap around the back of his neck. Their bodies mold against each other, and she can FEEL the heat radiating from him.

They hold this position for a moment before she pulls away from the kiss, breathless, fingers rubbing the back of his neck. “Sam...stay.” 

He doesn’t answer, instead crashing his lips back against hers more fervently this time. His fingers move down the small of her back, caressing her ass, eliciting a moan from her lips. Not only has it been so long since he’d even KISSED a woman, but it’s been even longer since he’s done anything else like this. But it felt so good.

Sam doesn’t waste any time, the hands on her ass pulling her up off her feet as she instinctively wraps her legs around his waist. He’s so much larger than her, and she is probably clinging to him like a koala to a tree, but she honestly doesn’t CARE.

Her lips part to let his tongue inside, and he can now taste the rich coffee flavor on his taste buds. He moves them slowly down the hallway, breaking the kiss so he can find the door to her room without tripping and falling. As he pushes the door open y/n’s lips move from his cheek to just below his ear, peppering wet kisses down along his neck and OCCASIONALLY sucking at the supple skin. The action on his skin elicits a groan from his lips, dropping her carefully onto her bed before moving over top of her.

Sam places another rushed kiss to her lips, moving his lips to her neck and across her collarbone, his hands running up and down the sides of her silky dress.

“Sam please…” Her breathing is shaky, feeling her core becoming wet from his actions. She can feel his cock through his jeans that are pressed against her, and she moves her hand down to the outline, rubbing her hand along it. He feels THICK, and she wonders what he’ll look like with his clothes off.

Another moan falls from his mouth when she touches him, instinctively bucking his hips into hers. “Please what?” He teases, nibbling gently at the skin on her shoulder. He wants her so bad, but the dominant side of him is screaming to be set free after YEARS of being locked up.

She rubs her hand harder against him, fingers working at pulling his belt open. “Please, I need your touch, your lips. I need YOU.”

He’s happy to hear her response, moving his weight off of her so that he can pull at the straps of her slip dress, y/n rolling her body up to help him pull it completely down. She’s left in a nude strapless bra and a matching seamless thong, Sam taking in the sight below him. Her body is absolutely as BREATHTAKING as her face was under the street lights.

“You’re gorgeous.” Hands roam along her soft skin, moving behind her back to unhook her bra, pulling it off and tossing it aside to reveal two perky breasts beneath. He leans forward to take a pink nipple into his mouth, a slew of curse words leaving y/n’s mouth. It feels so GOOD.

He keeps his attention on her breasts for a few minutes before he lifts off of her, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the hardwood floor. Y/N sits up on her elbows, licking her lips as she takes in his extremely chiseled form.

“You’re not so bad yourself.” Her hands roam along his chest, moving up to his muscular arms. He was DEFINITELY Captain America fit. Sam chuckles darkly, slinking his body down further, hands tugging off her panties. He can smell her wetness against the fabric, eyes filled with lust as he meets her gaze.

“I’ve GOT to taste you.” Eyes turn back to her pussy, noticing how clean kept it was. He moves forward, tongue gently lapping at her outer folds, soliciting a moan from her lips. Her thighs jerk and try to close around his head but he takes his hands and pushes her legs back down. “Don’t move, let me make you feel good.” He turns his attention back to her core, licking more passionately against her. He lets his tongue pass in and out of her pussy, holding her legs still so y/n cannot buck down for more. And she doesn’t NEED to, he’s already providing a good speed.

Y/n’s hands are staying busy by tugging the comforter beside her head, arching her back. Her moans are encouraging Sam to pick up speed, adding two fingers in gradually. He’s fucking her with his fingers, tongue licking at that perfect bundle of nerves and scratching every ITCH in her body.

“Sam I’m gonna…” She’s cut off by her orgasm ripping through her body, Sam holding her steady and fingers fucking her through it. She’s shaking by the time he pulls his fingers out, moving them up to her lips. “You’ve gotta taste yourself, that pussy is so sweet.”

She opens her mouth and sucks on his fingers before he pulls them out with a wet POP. “Sam, get those pants off, please. Want you inside me…now.” She’s honestly surprised herself by how much she wants him, but it just felt RIGHT. 

Sam wastes no time, moving up off the bed to kick off his shoes, socks, and jeans. His fingers move under the band of his grey boxers before he tugs them to the floor, standing at the edge of her bed completely naked.

He’s like Zeus, a God amongst a world of mortals. Her eyes trailed down to take in his cock now that it was free from its clothed prison, and she gasps. It’s definitely long but also THICK. Her pussy tightens at the thought of having him inside her.

Sam can see the way she looks a bit nervous at his size, moving over her once again and caressing her face with one hand, the other holding onto his cock. “Y/N it’s okay…gonna make you feel so good…you’re gonna make ME feel so good too…” His cock pressed against her folds, eyes meeting hers. “Relax, baby.”

The pet name makes her heart melt, she wanted to be his and only his. He moves slowly, cock aligning between her folds, opening her up and pushing in inch by inch until he bottoms out inside her, holding himself in place to let her adjust. Sam’s lips are on hers, kissing her through his motions before he pulls off her mouth.

“Sam, move please.” He does as she asks, moving in and out of her slowly at first before her moans are sparking a HUNGER inside of him, increasing his speed before he’s slamming into her over and over. 

Her pussy feels like what he assumes heaven would be like, her legs imitating the pearly gates that open up for him when he arrives. “Fuck, y/n, I need to pull out.” She pulls Sam in for a rough kiss, breathing heavily. “I’m on the pill, it’s fine, want you to cum in my pussy, want to be leaking you all day.”

Once she’s said that he can’t hold on, cutting her off with another kiss as he moans, hot spurts of cum filling up her pussy. Her walls tighten and she hits her second orgasm, her soft cries mixed against his lips on hers. 

Sam finally moves off of her once he’s not too sensitive, laying down on his back next to her, instinctively pulling her into his chest. They lie there in SILENCE, the only sounds in the room are their breathing.

“That was…” She trails off, fingers running absentmindedly up and down his chest. “Incredible.” He finishes, his own fingers moving to rub her back. His eyes close, letting the room fall silent again. “Does this mean there’ll be a second date?” 

She lets out a breathy laugh, closing her own eyes. “This means you’re mine and I’m yours, but we can definitely go on another date.”

[sxveme-2]

strawberry pancakes // bucky barnes

MASTERLIST

SEQUEL TO BLUEBERRY PANCAKES

DESCRIPTION: Lily Osborne and Bucky Barnes were never blessed with an easy relationship. Whether it be emotional trauma, or Lily's parents trying to be evil scientists. But they somehow made it work, after coming together once again after the birth of Lily's nephew. They were smooth sailing for a while. He proposed, they got engaged, but have yet to marry. While also juggling raising a teenager together as Hunter reaches the age of 16 now. All the while struggling with adjusting to their new lives in Long Island, balancing careers. Meanwhile, Lily struggles with the new found fame of being the fiancé of The White Wolf; and handling the tabloids critiques on her life and gossip columns digging up any information they can on her. While trying to maintain a low profile; and handle her life as it is. And becoming parents. Lily for the second time, while Bucky, well, this is his first attempt at a biological child. All the while a new threat from their past rises up once again, blind siding the family. Bringing forward old hatchets that had been buried, and putting their relationship at risk once more.

DISCLAIMER:  I do not own any original Marvel characters! All canon plots and canon characters belong to Marvel Comics and Marvel Studios. This is an original work. You may not publish it anywhere else

STATUS: Unedited

NOTES: Takes place after endgame. I have elected to ignore Tony's death and Steve's leaving. Did not happen. Quick Reminder! My works are only published here, AO3 and on Wattpad, thank you.

Chapter Two: The One With The Dinner

Warnings: N/A

Word Count: 2241

    “Who does that woman think she is?” Lily exclaimed as she burst into the Barnes residence, “Telling me I need to calm down. She called my fiance a terrorist.” The blonde fumed, storming into the kitchen to start making dinner.

“Doll what’re you doing?” Bucky sighed as he set Stella down, following the woman into the kitchen, “We have the conference tonight. Remember?”

Lily dropped her hand from the cupboard, placing her face into her hands. She had forgotten that Bucky and she had an Avengers conference dinner that they had to attend. The dress she wore was sitting in their room, calling for her to go put it on. She could feel the pressure laying on her shoulders from the level above her. The blonde turned her head, meeting Bucky’s eyes. He looked sorrowful and sympathetic, knowing that Lily wanted to stay home more than ever.

“Is that tonight?” Hunter asked as he joined the others in the kitchen, “Did we agree that Stella and I were coming?”

“Yeah, why don’t you start getting ready,” Bucky began, “Take Stella with you to her room. I’m just gonna talk to mom quickly.”

Hunter nodded and took his little sister from Bucky’s arms, glancing back at his mother as he walked up the stairs to the second floor of the house. Lily leaned back against the counters of the kitchen, her face still resting carefully in her hands as she attempted to calm herself down. The entire day had been something out of a nightmare for Lily, especially when she learned about what happened at Hunter’s school. The anxiety in her skyrocketed, and she wondered what everyone around them thought of the two’s relationship. About Bucky raising two children. Marrying an “all-American girl”, or so the tabloids had been saying over the last few years when the public got a hold of their relationship and Lily’s story.

“I know you hate these, baby,” Bucky whispered, walking towards the blonde and placing his hands on her shoulders, “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s been a very, very long day,” Lily whispered, removing her hands from her face and staring up at the man, “Don’t apologize. Let’s just...let’s just go get ready.”

“Wait wait,” Bucky sighed, taking Lily’s hands and pulling her closer to his chest, hand moving to the side of her face.

“What’re you doing?” She sighed, tilting her head into his hand.

“Jus’ lookin’ at ya,” he purred, Brooklyn accent pushing through, “My beautiful, beautiful, fiance.” The brunette cooed, bending down and pressing a gentle and barely-there kiss to Lily’s lips.

Laughing softly at his words, Lily squirmed from Bucky’s grip, “Sam’s right. You have a staring problem.” She teased, poking her fingers into the brunette’s stomach before turning towards the stairs.

-----

Lily sighed as she readjusted her black peacoat. Her hands dusted off the satin material of her dark green dress that had a black lace pattern along the entirety of it. After readjusting herself, Lily bent down to Stella’s height, smiling softly at her beaming daughter. The four-year-old wore a white dress with a baby blue floral pattern along the entirety of it, white tights on her legs, with bright white ballet flats as well. Her dark brown locks pulled into a bun, a baby blue flower pinned onto it.

“You do love dressing up, don’t you?” Lily cooed, pressing a kiss to her daughter’s cheek before standing up, running her hand through her curled blonde hair, “Shall we?”

“That makes one of us,” Hunter muttered as he readjusted the white dress shirt he wore, glaring over at the crowd gathered in front of the building, “I feel like a clown right now.”

Lily chuckled softly at her son and ruffled his tousled blonde hair, before picking up the four-year-old girl. The dinner was being held in Gotham Hall, a beautiful place where the Avengers were gathering to recognize a few that were retiring, and welcoming more who were joining in on the initiative. It was a televised event, and each Avenger was individually introduced to the hall, including the families. Meaning Lily, Hunter, and Stella were being introduced alongside the White Wolf, aka Bucky Barnes.

“Did we remember to tell Tony to have the chef make Stella chicken fingers? She won’t eat what’s on the menu.” Lily sighed, following Bucky as they walked towards the entrance, smiling at a few of the paparazzi and fans.

“I told him, as did Steve. Mostly because we had to ensure that Leo also got chicken fingers.” Bucky chuckled, hand resting on the small of Lily’s back, other arm slung around Hunter’s shoulder.

The family waved and smiled as they walked down the sidewalk, shielding Stella’s eyes from the bright lights. Friday night in New York was already an insane time, and with an Avengers event, it only grew more hectic. Which is not always the best for a four-year-old who was not the biggest fan of large crowds. Hence why she thrived in the countryside in Long Island, enjoying her time alone or with a few of her close friends. It sometimes freaked Lily out just how much the girl was like her father. But warmed her heart at the same time.

“Let’s go find our seats,” Bucky whispered in the blonde’s ear as the four walked into the hall, making their way through the halls towards the dining area, finding their seats with Sam and Steve.

“Well look who decided to show up,” Sam chuckled as he embraced Bucky, kissing Lily on the cheek, “You lot clean up well, hm?”

“Your girlfriend cleans up better than you,” Bucky teased as he embraced Rose, kissing his fiances sister on the cheek as well before taking a seat next to Lily, “Even Leo looks better than you.” He teased, winking at the five-year-old boy across the table.

“He was being nice Buck, c’mon,” Steve chuckled, clapping the man on the shoulder before smiling as Natasha joined the table, “Now the whole families together again.”

“Oh don’t go pestering cyborg, I looked at the playlist Tony made,” Sam chuckled, sitting at his seat, “He’s got Marvin Gaye on there. Might be the thing that sends robocop over the edge.”

Lily chuckled and shook her head, pouring a glass of water for Stella and placing a straw that was on the table in it. She loved hearing the banter between the three and laughing at Rose and Nat’s interjections. Lily herself was not the best at bantering back and forth with them all, but apparently, a few of her quips were some of the funniest things said. Hunter as well. Neither of them were big talkers, which is why the two never really enjoyed the events that they had to attend.

“When are they doing introductions? Just to prepare Stella for the camera that comes zooming around,” Lily hummed, catching Bucky’s attention, “You know she freezes when they come by.”

“We’re up first,” Steve commented, sipping his whiskey, “So it’ll be done and over with quickly.” The blonde chuckled, pinching his goddaughter’s cheeks gently, “But they may be doing interviews. Tony sent an email.”

Lily glanced to her side, watching Bucky turn his head away from her gaze and focus on the whiskey he himself had. The blonde shook her head, focusing her mind on the water in her own glass. Hunter seemed to go a bit pale as well, most likely worrying he’d have to speak. Lily nudged Bucky’s arm, nodding towards Hunter. The brunette nodded, turning to the boy and whispering to him. Lily sighed softly, watching Hunter relax at his words.

Time went on and Lily felt herself relax a bit. But when the camera crew entered, her anxiety skyrocketed once again. Bucky’s hand rested on her thigh, the coolness of the metal seeping through her satin dress, causing goosebumps to pop up along her skin. Stella was busy on Lily’s phone, too distracted to really see the cameras entering and everyone setting themselves up. Lily pursed her lips and turned to Bucky, looking up at him through her lashes. The older man bent down and pressed a kiss to the woman’s forehead, soothing her nerves. Or at least trying to, as the cameras made their way over.

“Welcome everyone to the annual Avengers Dinner!” The announcer chuckled, her voice radiating through the speakers around the room, “Let’s start this legendary night with the star of the show, Captain America!” She grinned, “Or, should I say. Captain Americas.”

Lily sighed softly as she watched Stella lift her head, dropping Lily’s phone into her lap. The blonde rested her hand on her daughter’s shoulder, squeezing gently as the cameras made their way towards the table. The announcer plastered on an obviously fake smile that made Lily want to leave the room, but she stayed silent as she came closer.

“Look at this lovely group,” she chuckled, “Steve Rogers, always an honour to see you here. Alongside the ever ravishing Black Widow, aka, Natasha Romanoff. And who do we have here? Sam Wilson, aka Captain America, and fashion designer Rose Osborne! With her little one.” The redhead grinned, gesturing to the group before turning her attention to the family of four, “And last, but not least, the Barnes. James Barnes, the now-retired White Wolf, with his stunning fiance, Lily Barnes. Have you two tied the knot officially yet?” She asked, lowering the mic to Lily.

The blonde flushed a deep red, chuckling softly, if not awkwardly, “Not yet.” She stated simply, readjusting in her seat.

“What’s the holdup? We’re all dying to know!”

“Just been busy.” Lily hummed, glancing over at Stella, who was staring down at her lap.

“How could I forget! You two have your own kid,” she hummed, glancing over at Hunter, “Kids, sorry. Stella and Hunter correct? How do you two feel about the announcement tonight?”

Bucky jumped in, taking over as he saw Lily’s confused face, “Walker has had a past. But I’m sure he’ll do great. Especially with some reinforced supervision.”

-----

“Walker!?” Lily whisper yelled, pushing open the front door, “What the hell is Tony thinking?” She muttered, dropping her purse as she cradled Stella’s head on her shoulder.

“We tried to talk him out of it.” Bucky sighed, nodding up the stairs for Hunter to head up to bed.

“It’s ridiculous,” Lily sighed, following her son up the stairs, Bucky following close behind, “Was what happened nothing to him? He decapitated a man in a town square.” The blonde continued, walking into Stella’s room, slowly stirring her, “Darling wake up, gotta get you into PJ’s.”

“He redeemed himself near the end of it all,” Bucky sighed, pulling pyjamas out of his daughter’s dresser, “Maybe that counts for something in Tony’s books.”

Lily had her own personal reasons to resent the man. Whenever there was a function where he attended, he was always a bit friendly with the blonde. Bucky mostly stepped in before it got too far, but still, it made Lily uncomfortable regardless. But above all of that, the events that happened with the Flagsmashers was something that Lily couldn’t get past. Bucky had gone to help with the entirety of the ordeal but ensured to keep in constant contact with Lily, who was sitting at home, pregnant as can be.

She remembered the day he came home like it was yesterday.

-----

Lily watched the TV with relief in her eyes. She watched Sam’s speech with pride, her heart swelling at his words. She had always admired Sam, and watching him officially take up the mantle was something Lily would remember for decades to come. Her hands rested on her swollen stomach, counting down the minutes before she could see her boyfriend walk through the door of the Manhattan home they still lived in.

Lily made her way to bed, laying uncomfortably in it. She didn’t remember how she was able to sleep when pregnant with Hunter, but the baby currently growing inside of her was making her want to turn back the time and keep Bucky at bay that night she was positive was the day the fetus was conceived. Though she knew deep down, she would want to relive that night time and time, and time again. As she tossed and turned, the blonde wondered if Bucky was still directly in the middle of the city.

When the door opened, she felt herself almost float up from the bed. Turning her head, the blonde jumped from the bed and walked towards the man, not hesitating to kiss him deeply as his hands found her cheeks. When they broke apart, he dropped to his knees and pressed his lips to Lily’s seven-month pregnant belly.

“Please tell me the arrested walker,” she whispered, running her hands through Bucky’s brown hair, “Please.”

“They didn’t...I’m sorry my love.” He whispered, standing to his feet, “We don’t know what’s going to happen with him.”

-----

Three years later, they figured out just what would happen to Walker. He’d be given the same privileges as people who had saved the world countless times, including that of Lily’s fiance. It sat heavily on Lily’s shoulders as she undid Stella’s hair, placing the elastic to the side and running her nimble fingers through the dark tresses as Bucky helped the young girl get changed into her pyjamas.

After the two tucked their daughter into bed and undressed into pyjamas themselves, and climbed into bed, Lily let out a heavy sigh. Not only was the Walker situation heavy on Lily’s mind, but the announcer’s comments on the state of their engagement did also as well. She never really thought about it. The two had been busy, there was no time for them to really sit down and properly plan a wedding. But then again...Steve and Nat had been able to. Their own rehearsal dinner was in a week. They had gotten engaged about six months ago. Lily and Bucky...they had been engaged for two years.

Yet legally, they weren’t married. And it worried her.

“Why haven’t we gotten married yet?”

[muckrakerhq]

PRESENTING … FONDUE FOR TWO, HOSTED BY JOEY HUMMEL-ANDERSON.

featuring… this week’s guests, @julienschuester & @stephcrawford

fondue for two is a weekly internet talk show hosted by joey hummel-anderson. fondue for two, joey, and the muckraker team strive to get all the steaming gossip while he interviews guests of his choice over a steaming pot of cheese.

[Joey and Julien’s dorm room]

JOEY: Hello everyone and welcome back to Fondue for Two: New York Edition! Today we’re here with my friend and classmate Steph Crawford and my roommate Julien Schuester! I really had no idea who to ask as a guest and since Julien is always around and I just came back from practice with Steph, they seemed like good choices. Are you guys excited to be on Fondue for Two?

STEPH: Yeah! [...] What is...Fondue for Two?

JOEY: [looks at the camera for a while before looking back at Steph] Is that a real question?

JULIEN: [whispering to Steph] it's like...his talk show thingy on youtube. He did it with his pet fish all through high school [flashes a smile at the camera and gives a thumbs up].

STEPH: [nodding] No, no! I was just joking! [follows suit, also flashing the camera a thumbs up] So, what next?

JOEY:  Okay, that wasn't funny, sorry to tell you... You should work on your jokes... But moving on. Steph, since you have lived in New York for so long, is it true that there are clones of us living in the subway like that really old movie?

JULIEN: What movie? Sounds awesome! [A beat] Sorry, carry on...

STEPH: Oh, it's okay, seriously! I don't know what movie you're talking about, but I don't think there's clones of us living in the subway. Can't say for sure. Isn't it a fact that everyone has like seven dopplegangers though? Who would you guys say your dopplegangers are?

JOEY: The movie is called Us! I watched it the other day with Angel and it was kind of weird... JOEY: What's a doppleganger? Aren't those a type of jeans? Because I think I own more than seven pairs of jeans.

JULIEN: Ohhhhhhhh that movie! It's kinda scary right? I'm not a big fan of scary movies...but to answer Steph's question...I've been told I look like a young Andrew Garfield. Also my brother and stuff but I don't know if that counts...I'll let the viewers decide.

STEPH: I can definitely see Andrew Garfield! I think it's the hair... [looks at Joey] but If we got him glasses, he'd really be the spitting image of Spider-Man, don't you think?

JOEY: I don't know, I don't think Julien looks like him... But I'll let the audience decide! I'll put on some pictures on the screen. [shows a picture of Garfield the Cat and Julien side by side] JOEY: Next question, if you had to bring a celebrity back from the dead, who would it be?

JULIEN: Okay...wait for it...check this out! [Julien grabs his glasses off his nightstand and puts them on] what do we think?! [A beat] But to answer your next question...easy! Marvin Gaye. I seriously love that guy. He made amazing music.

STEPH: Marvin Gaye, really? That's a good one! I think mine would have to be maybe like...Judy Garland? I love Wizard of Oz! . . . What about you Joey?

JOEY: Julien, you still look nothing like him... JOEY: I have no idea who those people are, but... I'd bring back Mr. Peanut. Just because I love peanut butter and I feel like he used to make the best... JOEY: Okay, next question! Which one of you is more likely to break a leg during dance class?

JULIEN: Another easy q. Definitely me.

STEPH: Am I allowed to say something not super nice on here?

JOEY: Yes, you are.

JULIEN: [looks at Steph in shock] what?! You don't know how to say not nice things you're like the nicest person ever!

JOEY: Julien, shhhh.

STEPH: You're really too sweet, Julien. . .I just wanted to ask! But I don't think it would be Julien! Effort is everything in dance, and there's just...[she thinks] some people in Dance Class who don't care, and won't stretch, and might get hurt because of it! It's really scare and I wish it wasn't the case, but I don't think it would be any of us. . .Julien obviously really cares! Same with you Joey!

JULIEN: Can't believe that's your version of not nice. Shoulda known!

STEPH: [rolls her eyes] I shouldn't have even said that! But I had to defend you...from you!

JULIEN: I still stand by what I said...between the two of us...I'd probably break my leg. You're a much better dancer than I am and stuff! But anyways...Jojo what's next?!

JOEY: I also think Julien would break a leg during the class... But he has gotten better since high school, that's true. I'm still better, but you know... [shrugs his shoulders] Next question, don't you guys think it's weird that you two spent Spring Break together? [looks at the camera, then back at the two of them]

STEPH: Um...[laughs, obviously uncomfortable, but doesn't answer the question.]

JULIEN: [Squinting] why would it be weird? There were a bunch of us! Dylan was there and Steph's sister and some of their other friends! It was cool and stuff.

STEPH: Yeah exactly! There were lots of people at the Beach House! My roommate was there. It wasn't just us! STEPH: I invited you and Angel, even! STEPH: But yeah, what Julien said.

JULIEN: And even if it had been just us, it wouldn't have been weird because we're friends! Everyone and their mom knows I'm accounted for. [Looks at the camera and waves] Hi legs! I love ya!

STEPH: Yep!

JOEY: Well, it was still kind of weird if you ask me... And why didn't you answer first, Steph? JOEY: Plus how do I know that you guys were all there together? I didn't see a group picture or anything! I'm just saying!

JULIEN: Joey, what are you doing, man?

JOEY: I'm just asking questions!

JULIEN: Well...ask better questions! I don't know what you're trying to suggest and stuff but as a friend I don't really appreciate it! JULIEN: You're starting to sound like JBI...

JOEY: Okay, fine! JOEY: [gasp] Take that back!

JULIEN: [Raising hands] No can do, brother!

JOEY: Moving on! You're never coming back to Fondue for Two after that... JOEY: Next question, where do you guys think the Big Apple is?

STEPH: Wait, who's JBI?

JULIEN: Trust me, you don't wanna know. Also...I have no idea about the big apple...why do they call New York that?

JOEY: He was from our school back in Lima! And he was weird... JOEY: I have no idea, because I haven't seen any big apples lately.

STEPH: I think it has something to do with taking the bite out of the city maybe? I don't know, but I don't think it's actually an apple. STEPH: Thanks for changing the topic though, Joey!

JOEY: Who would take a bite out of the city? Sounds gross... JOEY: Yeah, yeah, it's fine, I guess! JOEY: Okay, Julien, next question is for you... Do you think Gil the Fish would have liked Steph?

JULIEN: I think so! Everybody loves Steph!

STEPH: Aw, I wish I could have met him! STEPH: Wait, okay, can I ask the host another question? STEPH: It's important!

JOEY: Yes!

STEPH: If you could receive any gift right now, what would it be?

JOEY: That's a good question! I have no idea though, I like it when people surprise me! JOEY: But if I had to choose, I'd like to meet Dua Lipa... She's awesome.

JULIEN: No way that’s gonna happen...

JOEY: You never know! Shut up Julien! I'm mad at you...

JULIEN: I’m the one who should be mad at you!

STEPH: Guys, guys, don't fight! We should just be nice! We're all friends!

JOEY: Fine, whatever! Time to move on, what do you guys most like about NYADA?

JULIEN: The people! It’s also cool to be at a school where you don’t get a slushie facial for being into art and stuff...

STEPH: Okay don't laugh... STEPH: I really like how the building smells? STEPH: But also Adam's Apples! It's cool to be close to my Dad in that way.

JOEY: What does it smell like?

STEPH: You don't notice the smell?

JULIEN: I know what ya mean! It's comforting! Also shout out to Adam's Apples!

JOEY: Not really... But either way, I'm glad that you guys like Adam's Apples! JOEY: Before we end it off, do you guys want to say anything to the audience?

STEPH: Nope! Just thanks for having me! And Hi to everyone watching!

JULIEN: Hi mom and dad! Miss you guys! That’s all for me I think!

JOEY: Alright! I'll see you guys some other time and thanks everyone for watching! Bye!

[THE END]

[zandracourt]

Steve’s Playlist

Written for @the-sad-hatter’s Weird and Wonderful Challenge. This is the first fic I’ve written with a first person narrator. I tried to write it fully as an inserted reader, but that was just too weird for me, so I tried to make the first person as neutral as I could.

Prompt 26: I Put a Spell on You, Nina Simone

Steve’s Playlist

 Rated T/PG

It’s a few minutes before 1700 and Director Fury shouts my name as I turn off the light in my cubicle. 

“Agent, before you leave, can you take this to Rogers?”

I swallow hard, trying to play it cool. “Captain Rogers?” As if there is another one. Well, there is a Rogers down in accounting but I’m pretty sure the Director has no idea he even exists. He barely knows I exist. Though he did call me by name, so maybe it’s not a good idea to underestimate the Director’s pulse on the plebes of S.H.I.E.L.D.

“Yes, that one.” Bingo “Do you know where his office is, on the 3rd floor?” Everyone knew the Captain had chosen an office across from the hanger bay. It faced the interior of the Triskelion, meaning its window looked out mostly on the walls of the other two buildings; nothing but concrete and glass. It was the kind of office some middle manager would have, not the leader of the Avengers. But the Captain liked being close to the hanger, often eating lunch in the Machinists Lounge with the ground crew. 

“I do. Just that then?” I held out my hand towards him.

He passed me a 11”x 17” Manila envelope, about an inch thick. “That’s all. Good night.” He turns away before I can wish him a good night back. 

As I get off the elevator, I can hear the steep trumpet crescendo of the opening stanzas of Sir Duke playing. Normally, the halls are quiet, but someone must be using the after-hours nature of their work to play music. S.H.I.E.L.D. rules prohibit connecting to any streaming services on company computers, so whoever it is has brought in speakers and must be playing it off their personal phone.  Turning down the hall brings the music even louder. 

Music is a world within itself, it’s a language we all understand, with an equal opportunity to sing and dance and clap your hands.

Stevie Wonder’s distinctive rhythm filled my ears, getting louder as I walked.  My mom used to play this song on her Hits of the ‘70’s CD. You can feel it all over. You can feel it all over, people!

By the time I round the corner to the inverted half-circle that makes up the interior of the uniquely shaped office complex, the source of the the music becomes obvious. It’s pretty loud now and I can see him standing at his elevated computer desk, his feet stepping in time to the music as he types that is rather adorable, but I tamp such thoughts down hard. This is Captain America for fucks sake. My knock clearly gives him a slight startle and I feel bad.

“Oh, hey.” He reaches over quickly and taps pause on his phone.

“You don’t have to stop on my account. I was told to bring you this.” I hold the envelope out for him, still standing just outside the doorway like a dumb-ass. It’s just an office, but it’s an Avenger office, which feels more sacred. 

Steve chuckles, “There’s no magic force field there you know. You can come in.”

Crossing the threshold, I can’t help but look around. He keeps his office pretty sparse. There’s a whiteboard on one wall and to the left of his desk, a framed picture of what looks like Benjamin Franklin holding a large balance scale with an old-time baseball player standing on half. Over the top of the players’ images are the words “Brooklyn Dodgers” on the left and “New York Yankees” on the right. Looking closer, you can see it’s from the 1941 World Series.

“Whoa, is that original?” 

He raises his eyebrows and whistles slightly. “Man, I wish. No, it’s a replica poster. But I had the playbook from that series. Went to every game and managed to get signatures on it from everyone but Riggs and Frank. I’d left it at my mom’s place when I enlisted but now it’s lost to time. If it survived, I’m sure it’s in some collector’s wall safe by now. You follow baseball?”

I shrug. “Not like that. I’m always up for a Nationals game if I get a chance. There is an energy watching live games that I enjoy, especially with good friends. But I don’t ever watch on TV.”

He nods. “TV wasn’t an option when I was a kid, just radio. But I agree with you. I still listen to games sometimes, but I don’t like watching them on TV. ‘Course, they aren’t in Brooklyn anymore, so they aren’t my Dodgers anyway.”

I looked down at the only picture on his desk. It’s a plain, pine framed image of three people sitting in what might be a large restaurant booth, but it’s hard to tell. They look happy, and maybe a little drunk. The woman I recognize immediately because her portrait hangs in the main foyer. Margaret Carter, one of the founders of S.H.I.E.L.D., though she’s much younger in his picture. The other two men I don’t know, though one is kind of familiar. “That’s Director Carter, right?” I ask, pointing at it.

Steve picks it up and hands it to me for a closer look. “Yeah. Spring 1944. Peggy. Howard. Bucky.” He points to each face. “That was taken at this restaurant Howard knew. No matter where we were, he knew the best places to go that hadn’t been bombed or raided and every waitress knew him by name.”

Now I knew why the man in the middle was familiar. His picture hung downstairs next to Director Carter’s, but he looks so good this picture. Now that I’ve made the connection, I can see the Stark resemblance.  

“Woah, Mr. Stark didn’t age real well.” The words were out of my mouth before I could stop them and I wanted desperately to take them back. “I’m so sorry. That was...sorry.” 

My stomach clenches and temples throb with embarrassment. Who the fuck am I to criticize his friends? These people are portraits on a wall to me, but to him, they were drinking buddies. Best friends. The heat of my emotions races under my skin and I can’t bring myself to look him in the eye.

“It’s OK.” He takes the photo back, looking at it as he speaks. “Howard was so full of life and playful energy when I knew him. From what I understand, that changed as he got older. This is my memory of him though. And I’m glad I have it.”

His words shift my embarrassment to shame. “I’m glad you have it too. Can I ask...” He places the picture down and looks at me with such kind eyes I continue. “Where did you find it? I mean, it’s more personal than any S.H.I.E.L.D. photo I’ve seen and you said your stuff didn’t seem to stick around.” I was trying to cover my embarrassment with curiosity, seeking some neutral ground again.

“Tony gave it to me. I shot the photo, but I’d never seen how it turned out.” 

I’d heard that he and Iron Man didn’t always get along. Mostly gossip about how they bicker and would annoy the agents waiting to deploy on an op, so the Director had stopped sending them to the same places if he could help it. In this moment though, it was clear that Tony was a strong conduit to Steve’s past and it was hard to ignore the wave of loneliness that rolled off him. “It’s a great one. They look so happy.” He nods, continuing to look at it. I don’t want to step on his reminiscence so I turn to leave him to his thoughts. 

“Agent?” I stop and pivot just a little towards him. “The envelope?” I realize it’s still tucked under my arm and I look towards the ceiling in a desperate plea for The Powers of All to save me from any more stupid moves in front of this man ever again. 

“Right, sorry.” I say, hoping some old-time stage hook will just come drag me away.

“Thanks. And you don’t need to apologize all the time. You work here, same as me. You have as much right to be in this office as I do.”

O, Captain, that is not at all true. Thankfully, my brain stops my running mouth before I straight up contradict a superior, though I appreciate that he wants that to be true. “Good night, Captain.”

“Good night.” As I leave the office, the music starts again; this time playing playing Earth, Wind, and Fire’s September.

******

In any other context, I might object to being tasked as Director Fury’s delivery person with ever increasing regularity, since I’m an analyst, not a messenger. However, the only person he sends me to is Captain Rogers, so how can I complain? Yeah, he’s the 8th level of Dante’s Inferno kind of hot, but these end-of-work assignments have let me see Steve Rogers for who he is, not just a magazine cover story. Most of our conversations only last 4 or 5 minutes, but they are the best part of any day they happen. He’ll ask about my work and genuinely seems interested the data analysis I do. I don’t ask him about the rumors of missions he goes on because my security clearance is slightly above the kid who delivers our sandwiches at lunch time so I stick to topics of life outside of work. Surprisingly, he never seems to hold back personal stories. Especially ones of his past. Something extremely rare in this building. 

Every time the elevator doors open on the third floor after 1700, I can hear the music play. Marvin Gaye, Earth, Wind, and Fire, Aretha Franklin, Al Green, Otis Redding, Stevie Wonder, ...he definitely has a specific taste for 60′s & 70’s R&B. Today as I approach, the song plays slow and melancholy. 

You know I can’t stand it. Your running around. You know better, daddy. I can’t stand it, ‘cause you put me down. Yeah, yeah. I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.

Something made me stop just outside his office this time, listening. I can see him sitting with his arm resting on his desk, playing with a metal coin of some kind while looking out the window. The coin is bigger than any currency I’ve seen, and thicker, like a medal or medallion. He idly flips it through his fingers, lost in thought as the trumpet plays a jazz rift.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I love you anyhow. And I don’t care if you don’t want me, I’m yours anyhow. I put a spell on you, because you’re mine.

A deep, mournful scatting ends the song so I knock lightly, knowing I’m interrupting something. He turns his head a little and nods, so I enter. As I get closer, I see wetness in his eyes. Not falling, just holding a firm tension at the edge of his lids.

“You OK, Sir?”

He sits up a little and shifts his chair so he’s fully turned towards me from behind his desk. “No need to call me Sir. And yeah, I’m fine.” He taps the coin on the desk and lays it down as he reaches over and pauses the playlist, which had shuffled to Bring It on Home to Me by Sam Cooke. 

“Please. Sit and talk to me for bit.”

This is the first time he’s asked me to sit during one of these after-work deliveries, making me wonder if he really is OK. “I’m sorry for interrupting, I just needed to bring you this.” I slid the folder with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo on the front towards him. This one wasn’t classified, or I never would have been asked to bring it in an open file folder.

“You really gotta stop apologizing for things that aren’t your fault or responsibility. You’re here because you were ordered to by Fury.”

“I don’t mind, really.” 

“Well, it’s not exactly in your job description to bring me files. It’s probably my fault you keep getting asked. After the first time, I was talking to Nick about the information you’d given me and I told him that I enjoyed talking to you.”

My ears feel warm at the compliment. “I enjoy talking to you too.” This feels so awkwardly intimate that I have to shift gears to ease my nervousness. “What is that?” I point to the coin.

He hands it over. It’s about an inch and half in diameter; punched brass in deep relief. The edges are slightly worn down but readable. The words “107th Infantry” along run along the outer edge with two crossed rifles in the center. 

“It’s a Challenge Coin. They became a thing with the OSS during the war, but after all they’d been through with Hydra, the 107th felt they deserved them too. So the junior officers had their own made.”

“Was that your unit?” I wished I recalled more from 10th grade history class.

“Not exactly. I was kind of my own unit, but I ran missions with the 107th and a few others once the Howling Commandos came together. That,” he gestures to the coin in my hand, “was Bucky’s.” 

I glance at the photo on the desk. After our first encounter, I’d Googled Bucky Barnes so I wouldn’t make any more asshole remarks about his friends and learned he’d been a Sergeant in the 107th. “Wasn’t he enlisted though?”

Steve raised an eyebrow.”You’ve been researching. Yeah, but he was also very good at placing bets he knew he wouldn’t lose. Won it off an LT we both didn’t like very much.”

Remembering his other stories of items lost to the past, I ask, “However did you find it?”

“Never lost it. The night before the mission where...” He paused and took a breath, “before he died, Buck had given it to me. It was still in my uniform pocket when they thawed me out.”

The question floated in the silence and I wasn’t sure if it was one he wanted me to ask or not. In all our conversations, he was profoundly honest, and he’d brought it up, so that seemed like a green light.

“Why did he give it to you?”

“I’ve thought about that over and over since the day he fell. At first, I thought maybe he knew somehow...that he wouldn’t make it back. In the years since... it seems more of a promise. Not sure what he was promising exactly, but that feels more right to me. Bucky never believed a mission would fail, so it makes no sense for him to give to me as a goodbye.”

“And that song? The one playing before I came in? I know it’s an oldie, but I didn’t think it went back to the ‘40s.”

He chuckled. “What’re talking about? To me, Nina Simone’s a baby.”

“That was a woman singing?” I’d heard of Nina Simone, but realized I didn’t know which songs she was famous for. 

“Yeah. Don’t you just love her voice?”

“She’s amazing.” I agree. “You listen to the blues a lot, I’ve noticed. Doesn’t that make you sad?”

“You think my music is sad?” He asks, not accusing, but with genuine interest. 

“Well, isn’t that what the Blues are? Songs for when you’re feeling down?”

“I read a quote once by Etta James, ‘When I’m singing blues, I’m singing life.’ I know a lot of folks around here think my life is sad; ‘cause of what I lost. And there are times I am. But when I listen to the blues, I don’t even think about the time since I woke up. I think about times before. Brooklyn. My mom. Breadlines around the block. Not enough coal to keep the room warm. Bucky. The War.  These songs, they feel like mine, even if it’s music from a later generation. Ya gotta listen to them with your heart. They aren’t sad at all really, just honest. The blues is life. Thanks for this.” He slid the folder over and placed it in his in-box. 

I hand the coin back to him and he places it in the front pocket of his cargo pants. “You’re welcome. Thanks for sharing. I always learn something when we talk.” I stand up to leave. 

“You’re easy to talk to. That’s a real gift. You ever thought of field work?”

I shake my head firmly. “No way. I learned real fast in academy that I’m as likely to shoot you or the wall as any target. I suck at firearms.” He laughs and bestows on me smile that reminds me why everyone loves him. “I like the work I do and I think I’m pretty good at it.”

“Gotta love someone who knows their strengths and weaknesses. You don’t have to limit your visits to delivering Nick’s paperwork, y’know. Come by anytime.”

I nod. “G’night Captain.”

“Good-night.” He’d touched the music back on before I’d even turned around. 

If you ever change your mind about leaving, leaving me behind, Oh baby, bring it to me 

The lyrics followed me out the door and down the hall as I pulled out my phone to start making a new Spotify list. 

[nerianasims]

Billboard #1s 1970

Under the cut.

B. J. Thomas – “Raindrops Keep Fallin’ On My Head” -- January 3, 1970

Everything's going wrong, but he's not gonna cry or complain, because he knows things will turn good before long. Meh. I dunno, it's a bouncy song, sung well, but I've never liked the whole smile your way through everything awful ethos, and I really fucking hate it right now. See: Pandemic, and Trump's response to it. And so a song I was fine with last year now infuriates me.

The Jackson 5 – “I Want You Back” -- January 31, 1970

I'm skipping every Jackson 5 song. Little kids singing love songs for money and fame is bad enough, and I never liked any of these songs for that reason. But add in the baggage of what Michael Jackson did later, and how much did that have to do with him being forced into this position when he was a little kid, and I'm done. Let a child psychologist handle this. I'm not equipped.

Shocking Blue – “Venus” -- February 7, 1970

It's supposed to be "The goddess on the mountaintop," as anyone who heard the later Bananarama cover a whole bunch knows. But Mariska Veres is Dutch, and she sings "godness on the mountaintop" instead. Also Venus was technically on a mountaintop I guess, but I associate her more with a giant clamshell in the sea. I'm nitpicking. The song's got a great groove and Veres' voice is perfect for it. It's good.

Sly & The Family Stone – “Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin)” -- February 14, 1970

I always thought this chorus was "Thank you for lettin' me be myself again." I'm not sure what the actual spelling is trying to communicate. I only just learned what the song is actually about: How the pop music industry sucks. I think. The only totally clear line is "Dyin' young is hard to take, sellin' out is harder." So maybe the spelling is a sarcastic jab at how no one is letting him be himself. But with the funk dancing beat, and the only lines that sound clear not actually being what they sound like, it's still not more than a really great party song.

Simon & Garfunkel – “Bridge Over Troubled Water” -- February 28, 1970

If I were a music critic, I'd get in trouble for this one. Bridge Over Troubled Water bores me to tears. It makes me feel like I'm stuck in glue. Aretha Franklin's rendition is significantly better, but I still don't like it. It's a nice sentiment and all, but I'll take the Four Tops for the same idea done far better, thanks.

The Beatles – “Let It Be” -- April 11, 1970

I hate toxic positivity. However, I very much like calming down and detaching from things you cannot control. The latter is what this song is about. It's about "Mother Mary," which obviously sounds like Jesus' mom, but it's actually about Paul's mom, who died when Paul was 14. When he was going through a tough time as an adult, he had a dream that she came to him and told him "let it be." John Lennon, being a dick as he so often was, didn't like the song, and called in Phil Spector to put massive layers of production in it. Later, Paul released "Let It Be... Naked," which was his original vision for the song. It's far better.

The Jackson 5 – “ABC” -- April 25, 1970

Pass.

The Guess Who – “American Woman” -- May 9, 1970

This song pisses me off. Obviously it's an entire song insulting American women, and as an American woman, I am not pleased, not that The Guess Who would care. And of course it's metaphorical, but why the fuck are American women the ones getting blamed for war machines? Because women are blamed for everything, that's why. Oh and also the song is incredibly repetitive, so even if it were a song about how great American women are, I would not like it.

Ray Stevens – “Everything Is Beautiful” -- May 30, 1970

There's a mob of small children, hide! That is my reaction to the beginning of this song. Past that -- okay, yes, everyone is beautiful in their own way. This song isn't though. It's the gloopiest of Christian "rock" before that was even a thing. It makes me shudder.

The Beatles – “The Long And Winding Road” -- June 13, 1970

Phil Spector splooges all over another Paul McCartney song. I never cared much for this song before I heard the "Naked" version, which gives me chills. How could anyone not open their door to this? But when it comes to the official single version, I'd tell him to take another trip around the block while I thought about it.

The Jackson 5 – “The Love You Save” -- June 27, 1970

Pass.

Three Dog Night – “Mama Told Me (Not To Come)” -- July 11, 1970

The lyrics are about how scary parties are. Which, um, yeah. Especially that cigarette part; I've always been drastically allergic to cigarettes, so that my parents had regular parties when I was a kid was really bad. I'm glad that people were going outside to smoke by the time I was in college. But the song. It's a party song in which the narrator hates parties. Pretty fun.

The Carpenters – “(They Long To Be) Close To You” -- July 25, 1970

Karen Carpenter's voice and singing ability were astounding. It's one of the great tragedies of music that she didn't get better songs. I do like this one, though. Yes, it's ridiculously sweet. But it has a beat and forward motion -- it's slow, but not turgid. The piano is nice. And, of course, there's Karen Carpenter's gorgeous voice, the most important thing about the song by far.

Bread – “Make It With You” -- August 22, 1970

Bread is wonderful. I love bread. But not the musical group Bread, which is like stale Wonder Bread rather than a delicious foodstuff. 70s easy listening managed to make sex sound boring. This song is one of the worst in that regard. If sex were like it seems to be in this song, I'd rather scrub grout.

Edwin Starr – “War” -- August 29, 1970

"War/ I despise/ It means destruction to innocent lives." Exactly. To say I love this song doesn't quite cover it. The song is the absolute truth, that's all.

Diana Ross – “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” -- September 19, 1970

The narrator's been dumped but whenever her ex needs her, she'll get to him any way she can. This version takes too long to get started, and then Ross speaks the verses instead of singing them. I don't like it at all. Give me Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell's version instead, which also sounds like the narrators have a much more equal relationship.

Neil Diamond – “Cracklin’ Rosie” -- October 10, 1970

The song sounds like it's about a sex worker. It's not. It's about cheap wine. Also it's Neil Diamond. It's not boring, and I don't hate it, but I can't say I like it either. It's just sort of there.

The Jackson 5 – “I’ll Be There” -- October 17, 1970

*shudder* Pass.

The Partridge Family – “I Think I Love You” -- November 21, 1970

It starts in a minor key, waking up and suddenly realizing "I think I love you." But the narrator isn't quite ready to accept it. It's about a first love, and about how confusing the feeling is. Also there's a harpsichord. At the end, the narrator is asking if you think you love him too. I like it.

Smokey Robinson And The Miracles – “The Tears Of A Clown” -- December 12, 1970

He's pretending to be happy in public, but he doesn't want the woman who left him to think he's anything but miserable after she left him for some reason he doesn't know. He name-checks Pagliacci. Great Motown song. (The B-side of the single was "I Second That Emotion," which I like even better.)

George Harrison – “My Sweet Lord" -- December 26, 1970

Oh, George. I actually like his solo career better than that of any of the other Beatles, but his first big smash is not good. First, the melody is plagiarized from The Chiffon's "He's So Fine." Not inspired by or similar to or any of the other bullshit musical artists are getting sued over these days. It's a straight-up rip. George said he did it accidentally, and that absolutely can happen, but in this case I'm doubtful. The Beatles covered a whole lot of girl group songs at the beginning of their run. George knew girl groups. Second, he slowed down the melody, and so it is too slow, especially if you already know "He's So Fine." Third, it's about wanting to "know" some non-denominational New Agey all religions are really one religion type "Lord." That's a philosophy that I find confused at best. Very bad.

BEST OF 1970: "War"   WORST OF 1970: "My Sweet Lord"

[istheresomebodywhocanimagine]

Got Your Nose

anonymous said: Hi there!! Could you do an AU Roger Tayor fanfiction where he is a single dad and he meets the reader and really likes her and finally introduces her to his kid and she is so sweet with them and then eventually the kid ends up calling her mommy and just cute af fluff please and thank you??

(a/n: i’m so sorry i had to make the kid a girl. Imagining roger w a little girl just spoiling the shit out of her made my anti-kid heart swell a little bit. gif credit to @imladrs hehe ok time 2 code a website for class before it’s due woops)

“A surprise?! A puppy!”

“It’s not a puppy, sweetheart, it’s something better!” you heard Roger explain from the other side of the door, and you had to giggle as you listened for Camellia’s sweet little voice.

“Better than a puppy?” the young girl asked in disbelief, a small bit of attitude in her tone as you heard Roger laugh and walk towards the door. Suddenly, you were extremely nervous about all of this. It didn’t help that as they got to the door, Cam exclaimed, “Daddy, nothing is better than a puppy.”

“Oh, don’t be silly,” Roger dismissed teasingly, and you heard him pick up his daughter, making her squeal in delight. “Up you go, lovie. Are you ready?”

This was it. You felt your heart pounding in your chest as the front door unlocked, and you briefly imagined the worst case scenarios – Cam takes one look at you, decides you’re not interesting, and asks where the puppy is. Or she doesn’t even acknowledge you, or worse – she does, but she says she doesn’t like you.

Swallowing hard, you put on a smile as the door swung open. There was Roger, dressed to the nines in a simple t-shirt and track pants. His short but slightly curly hair was sleep-worn, and he looked very much like a dad today, which was not at all what he usually looked like. It was like seeing him again for the first time.

You remembered when you’d seen him for the first time. They were recording The Game in Munich, where you were visiting family, and you’d run into him by chance at a record store one afternoon. You were perusing the selections when you’d picked up an old Queen album, and a man nearby had scoffed at your selection – or so you’d thought.

“What’s so funny?” you asked, curiously watching the blonde who was standing around four feet away, holding a Jimi Hendrix vinyl. “Queen not your cup of tea?”

The man’s eyes were obscured behind dark sunglasses, unreadable – he didn’t remotely look like the last time you’d seen a picture of Roger Taylor, so it was no wonder you didn’t recognize him. You were admittedly a bit out of the loop, so the last time you’d seen a picture of the man in passing was years ago, and he was sporting a long, shaggy haircut and a lighter, bohemian-esque fit. This man was in a leather jacket and black tshirt, with a chunky chain necklace to match the wallet chain that was hanging from the belt loop on his jeans. His wavy blonde hair was cropped to a medium-short length, and it was unbelievably messy. There was an innocent look to his face, but a small smirk played at the corner of his mouth, as if he knew more than he let on.

“Oh, Queen?” he said, and you marveled at the Anglo-Cornish accent that pervaded the surprisingly mellow voice of someone who looked like they’d just stepped out of a Black Sabbath concert. “They’re all a bunch of cock-stars, really.”

“Ah.” You looked at the Queen II album cover in your hand, pointing to the one on the left (which you later found out was John) and looking at the man again. “He looks like a nice chap. Not bad looking either.”

“Oh, he might be the worst of them all,” he quickly replied, an impish grin sneaking its way onto his lips. “I’ve met them all. They’re insufferable. Don’t waste your time on them, gorgeous.”

“Really?” you asked, intrigued now and mainly ignoring his come-on. Although you weren’t sure whether you should trust a stranger’s word that they’d met such a big band, anything was possible. After all, you’d heard they were recording in the area. “Honestly? I don’t really know any of them. Usually don’t listen to this type of music.”

The toothy grin on his face was practically cracking his cheeks by this point, and you tried not to be too unnerved by this giddiness as he spoke. “The lead singer is a big drama queen, and that chap you pointed to? Right prick. Full of himself. The drummer might be the only one worse than him.” He chuckled, then shook his head and set the Hendrix album down, stepping just a foot or two closer and leaning against the stack of records next to him. “You said you don’t listen to this kind of music. What brings you over to this part of the store then?”

“Me?” you asked, almost confused that he was showing interest in your record selection. But you’d been chatted up in weirder places than a record store, so you played into it. “I usually listen to Stevie Wonder and the Commodores and Marvin Gaye, stuff like that. Just thought I’d change it up a bit, you know? I’m visiting an aunt here for a month or two since I just graduated uni, so I’ve got time out my arse for new music.”

“Uni? So you were a student. Where at?” he asked, moving his sunglasses to the top of his head. He had inquisitive eyes that were a shocking shade of blue, and he watched you patiently as he waited for an answer.

“London.”

“London, a lovely place. I’m actually from London myself, I’m also in the city visiting… What did you study at uni? Modeling?”

Scoffing at the notion, you were about to answer when a much taller man with a wild mop of brown curls approached the strange blonde from behind, clapping a hand to his shoulder and looking at you with curious eyes before looking down at the blonde. “Made a friend, Roger?” came the smooth, slightly lower voice of the second strange man, and you swore you’d seen his face before as he looked back to you again. After a quick glance at the album in your hand, he gave a quick chuckle and let go of Roger’s shoulder. “You going to buy that for her?”

“I was just telling her how the guitarist is a massive knobhead,” Roger replied teasingly, and you looked down to the album to be smacked across the face with the answer. The two men in front of you were right there, on the cover of Queen II, and you’d been sitting here like an idiot, not even realizing you were shooting the shit with one of the members of the band.

“Oh, eat a dick,” the man with curls laughed, shoving Roger’s head forward and grabbing the Hendrix album that he’d left sitting on top of other records. “Better have told her the drummer sucks something awful.”

A blush was quickly creeping up on your cheeks as you witnessed the interaction, not sure if you should apologize for not recognizing them or be thankful that he wasn’t offended. But Roger ended up being delighted to find a new Queen fan in you, and took down your number before he left with the man who introduced himself as Brian.

Roger ended up taking up most of your time in Munich after that, taking you all over the city on romantic dates, including a private boat ride up the river. Even once, he brought you by the studio for a brief visit when Freddie called him. You were ecstatic to see that side of the music industry, and you even got to meet John, who was amused to hear that you’d thought he looked nice on the cover of Queen II (Roger got an earful for that one later).

In fact, you spent so much time around him that you were upset when it was time for you to finally leave. But Roger promised he’d visit you as soon as they were done recording, and he did. He also said he had a surprise for you when he got back, and you were floored to find out what the surprise really was.

He had a 4 year old daughter from a previous relationship that he’d been dying to tell you about, and she was almost a carbon copy of him. Beautiful blonde hair, ocean blue eyes, and from what he’d told you, an attitude bigger than the Earth itself. But she was sweet as well, and she loved her dad dearly, just as much as he loved her.

“I want you to meet her,” he’d said one day, when you were both lounging on your bed back in London. He was playing with your hand, his head resting on your belly as he looked up at you.

“Meet Camellia?” You panicked a little, chewing on your lip as you ran a hand through his hair. This was a bit sudden for you, seeing as you’d only been involved together for around 3 to 4 months, but maybe he was just talking in the future. “When?”

“Tomorrow,” he answered quickly, an edge of excitement in his voice as he propped himself up on his elbows, one on either side of you. Oh, Jesus, tomorrow? “She’s itching to meet you. Ever since I showed her a picture of you on the river in Munich, she’s been wanting to meet ‘dad’s girly-friend.’”

You cooed softly, smiling as he crawled to hover over you, trapping you down to the bed. “But Rog, what if she ends up not liking me?” you worried, reaching up to brush a stray hair from his forehead before pressing your palm to his cheek. He smiled affectionately, then pressed a quick kiss to the inside of your hand before nuzzling it.

“She’ll adore you, promise.” He then kneeled between your legs, pressing his fists into the mattress as he carefully lowered himself so he was laying on top of you, resting his head on your chest. You shifted a bit so he rested between your legs better, then began to brush your fingers back through his hair and ponder the idea a bit.

“Is she not with her mom tomorrow?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows as you stared at the ceiling. You couldn’t really pinpoint why you felt so overwhelmed by the concept of meeting Cam – it was possible that it was mainly because you desperately wanted her acceptance. Roger had quickly become a fixture in your life, and you were pretty fond of him. It would be horrible if the number one girl in his life decided that she didn’t like number two, which was you. You couldn’t even let yourself make Roger choose between the two of you – you’d have to leave him, just to make Cam happy. That thought scared you a lot.

“No, I gave her the next few days off. I wanted to spend alone time with the little bugger.” You could feel the rumble of his chuckle against your chest, resounding deep into your heart, and you smiled a bit as you shook your head.

“Alone time?” you repeated, and Roger laughed at your not-so-subtle prying.

“Alone time with you included, of course.” You raised an eyebrow, and Roger looked up at you, grinning before moving back up to support himself on his elbows again, giving you a quick kiss. “Baby, I swear. She will love you. I might have to beg her to spend time with me at the end of the day.”

And that was that. You’d agreed to come over in the morning, and now here you were, a fatherly Roger holding an energetic and curious young girl on his shoulders. She was peeking down at you over her father’s head, and he gave you a wide smile before looking up at Cam.

“Cammy, this is the lady I’ve been telling you about. Y/N, come in!” he invited, opening the door wider and stepping to the side as Cam never took her eyes off you. She had a devilish grin, much like her dad, and you smiled right back as you stepped inside, looking around a bit at the unfamiliar den area. “It’s a bit of a mess, sorry. Cam here has been a whirlwind this morning.”

“Have not!” the 4 year-old protested, plugging Roger’s nose as an act of vengeance. “You’re a whirlywind,” she taunted back, wiggling his nose and making him laugh as he looked up at her.

“Help, don’t let her take my nose!” he cried out in a melodramatic (and nasally) voice, looking at you as Cam giggled in pure glee and pretended to snatch his nose before he sat her back down on the ground and held a hand over his face. “Oh no, don’t give it to Y/N, I’ll never see it again!”

The reverse psychology worked remarkably well, and she ran straight over to you, handing you the invisible nose before running off and shrieking. “Run! Run!” You were absolutely dumbfounded by how flawlessly he functioned as a dad, so you stood there, smiling in awe at him for a second before remembering your mission. Smiling sheepishly, you pretended to put the ‘nose’ in your back pocket, then took off after Cam.

Roger’s laughter echoed through the den as he jogged after you two, and you found Cam peeking out of the closet in the hallway, waiting for you to come in. When you did, she pulled the door shut with a little struggle, and then shushed you quickly as you two crouched in the semi-darkness. “Daddy will never find us in here.”

“Good thinking,” you whispered, watching Roger’s shadows shift by under the door as he called out your names. You feigned handing her the nose, which she accepted with both of her hands. “Where should we hide his nose?”

“Let’s run and hide it in the backyard on the count of three,” she whispered back, listening as Roger’s voice got farther away. “One, two.. three!”

You threw open the door and she ran out immediately, her long, thin blonde hair flying out behind her as she came face to face with Roger, who was hiding just around the corner. He picked her up quickly, tickling her and eliciting shrieks and giggles that made break out into laughter.

“Where’s it at? I’ll tickle you until you tell me!” he laughed, moving her to his side and attacking her tummy with relentless tickles as she squirmed and writhed with laughter.

“Y/N has it!” she gasped out between laughs, and your jaw dropped as you realized she was even more clever than you’d anticipated.

Letting Cam down gently to the floor, Roger watched as she took off again, and you shrugged as he walked over to you and gave you a quick kiss on the forehead. “Good morning, love. Have you had breakfast yet?” His arms snaked around your waist, and he glanced behind him to make sure Cam wasn’t in sight before he stole another kiss, this one on the lips and far more eager than the last.

Pulling away before he got too into it, you smiled fondly and rested your hands on his chest, nodding. “I grabbed something on the way here, had to calm my nerves.”

“Nerves? Over her?” he gently teased, squeezing your waist and making you roll your eyes playfully. “Isn’t she a little spitfire? I’ve been chasing her all morning. Can’t wait for her to pass out in a few hours.”

“She is, she is,” you agreed, kissing him one last time before reaching behind you to take his hands and unwrap them from around you. He pouted a bit, but didn’t have time to complain, for Cam came back around the corner with a new game already in mind.

You spent the rest of the morning entertaining her and all her wild ideas. When she finally got sleepy just after lunch, Roger was more than happy to tuck her in for a nap. He quickly roped you into a cuddle session on the large recliner in his living room as soon as she was out, and you found yourself wrapped up in his toned, slim arms, your legs weaved together as you both talked about your first impressions.

“She’s so smart, like unbelievably clever.” Roger yawned a bit, stretching before wrapping his arms back around you and grinning, his eyes heavy with exhaustion.

He looked adorably sleepy, and his eyelids fluttered closed as he mumbled, “Don’t know where in the hell she got that from, because her mother’s no genius.”

“Roger, be nice!” you scolded quietly, Roger snickering to himself as he pulled you closer and buried his face in your neck. “She’s a brainiac, just like her dad.” Roger smiled against your neck, but only made a sleepy noise of contentment in response. Admittedly, you were getting a bit tired too, and cuddly Roger wasn’t helping as you felt yourself being lulled off to sleep quickly. “What if she wakes up while we’re still asleep?” you murmured, closing your eyes as you cuddled closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Trust me, she’ll get us up,” he muttered, and you wondered what in the hell that was supposed to mean before you quickly drifted off to sleep, content and warm in Roger’s embrace.

You found out what that meant. You were quickly jolted out of your sleep not even an hour later as Camellia pounced on the both of you, garnering a quick yelp from you and a groan from Roger as you both stirred and blinked sleepily. “Naptime’s over, let’s play house!”

This day quickly became a routine in the months that post-production of Queen’s album neared its close. When work would allow it, you’d find yourself over at his place, spending the day with him and Cam. She quickly grew attached to you, and Roger always told you how she lamented over your absence whenever you couldn’t make it. In fact, she had gotten so used to you being around that she’d accidentally let the M word slip one day, closer to Roger’s time to leave for tour.

“Daddy, no boys allowed!” Cam sassed, trying to shut the door to her bedroom as Roger peeked in at the two of you playing with her dolls. You were cross-legged near her dollhouse, and you raised an eyebrow before sticking your tongue out at Roger playfully. That got a laugh out of him, and he fought back to keep the door open just enough for his head to poke through as he begged Cam to let him in.

“Go away, boys have cooties!” you teased, and Roger shot you a devilish look as you grinned innocently and waved at him.

“Yeah, leave mum and I alone!” Cam added, and that brought you to a full stop as Roger’s face quickly softened. He looked at you with an apologetic look, but you felt a slow smile creep onto your face. If she thought of you as that important of a person in her life, you were more than okay with that. Sure, you weren’t anywhere near ready to be a mom, but the fact that she trusted and respected you enough to call you mom thrilled you.

Relief washed over his face as he realized you weren’t alarmed, but relief quickly turned to pain as he forgot to fight back against Cam’s incessant pushing on the door. His head was briefly squeezed between the door and the doorframe, and you couldn’t help but laugh as Cam giggled evilly at the look on his face.

Giving you a quick glance, he pouted, but there was an almost imperceptible smile hinting at the corner of his lips as he retreated. You watched fondly as he waved at Cam, who was peeking at him through the doorway, and she waved back before quickly shutting the door and starting to walk back over to you.

“Pysch!” Roger yelled not even five seconds later, opening the door and forcing his way into the room as Cam whirled around and immediately jumped on him. You laughed as he pretended to fall to the floor from her attack, letting her quickly take over the wrestling match.

Crawling over to where they were, you watched curiously as Roger whispered something in Cam’s ear. What were they planning, the little shits? You received a trademark devilish grin from the both of them suddenly, and you had no time to react before you were quickly overwhelmed, Cam shouting in glee as she tickled you and Roger held your hands above your head. “Get ‘er, Cammy! Don’t stop till she’s cryin’ for mercy!”

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[erikismybitch]

Waiting In Vain : Chapter 13

Come Get to this .

Marley had just gotten home from a long shift at the bar . Her feet were killing her from walking back and forth on the hard floor all night . She threw her keys somewhere on the living room rug , along with her bag. Her superstitious mother told her to never put her purse on the floor, or she would be broke . So she kindly picked it up, even though she didn’t want to, and put it on the couch. By the time she reached her bathroom , she had already stripped down naked for the shower .

It felt so good , the water burned into her overworked muscles like a massage . She needed one of those , Marley had been working hard . And she hadn’t seen Erik in a while. He was away for work at first , in some place where phone service for foreigners was nonexistent . But whenever he got the chance , he’d call her . Only short conversations about their days, then he had to go. But he had been back for a few days . They just had two schedules that wouldnt permit them to be together.

Other than her long shift, Marley had a good day. In fact she had been having good days . She sat on her bed , dry from her towel but still slightly sticky warm from the water . The mango shea butter she applied all over her body gave her a glow . She laid there on her bed , with the slight lump of emotion in her throat .

The TV was on mute , something good was on but she couldn’t keep focus . Then, she started smiling out of nowhere , thinking about Erik . Just everything about him she liked . Even the way he coughed excited her . How he was so tough when he didn’t need to be , and how calm he was when he handled her .

Marley purposely laughed out loud to herself “Oh my god , you are tripping!” she tried to somehow convince herself that this kind of behavior wasn’t normal. But it was , especially when you liked somebody. Marley had liked Erik for a while, but this was different. It was below the surface of things , deeper . She thought about him all of the time, she wanted him all the time . Marley hated that feeling, she had that feeling long ago with Trey and it ended. Even though her relationship with Trey was good...until it wasn’t . But she knew Erik was not Trey and she didn’t like to compare the two . She also had to stop comparing herself to her cousin. Marleybhad to remember that Erik wanted to be with her, he said so himself . She turned the TV off . Then hit shuffle on her iPad that sat on her dresser . The Bluetooth was forever connected to her speaker , so it played.

Marvin Gaye - I Want You (Vocal)

Oldies always played through Marley’s speakers . Rather it be Soul, Dancehall or R&B . Sometimes she dabbled in New Age music , but nothing gave her good vibes the way the old songs did. Her mom used to tell people “Marley has an old soul”, whatever that may mean.

Melodies from the song sounded like love. Marley thought it was weird, but that was the only way to explain it . She had heard the song millions of times, this time wasn’t the same . The cords reminded her of him. Marvin Gaye’s aggressiveness reminded her of him. They way the song came together , the music was talking to her. Every lyric explaining exactly how she felt . She closed her eyes and stretched her toes to the rhythm . Envisioning a state where the words were her reality.

“I want you , the right way , I want you and I want you to want me to ...”

Marley turned over and grabbed her phone , she scrolled to their text thread and read the transcripts from the last couple of days . she wanted to tell Erik that she wanted him , just like the song said . But she thought it would be too forward , Erik was a little hard to read . She settled on something simple.

What are you doing.

Nothing was as simplistic at that. It’s funny , because Erik was thinking about her too . He was laying in the bed because he had an early morning that next day . The text woke him up . Even though he knew he needed sleep , he needed her too .

About to come over if you home .

The giddiness Marley felt when she saw the response. Erik watched the time , a quarter past twelve . She responded right away .

I’ll leave the door unlocked .

He wanted to tell her not to do that , because it wasn’t safe . Erik would loose his shit if something happened to her this early into things . Before he could have this new experience . He didn’t though , this overprotective-ness thing always went into overdrive when it came to Marley . He didn’t live that far from her and he drove like a bat out of hell . Nothing could happen to her in between time . Erik made sure to remind her to use the camera on the doorbell if she did leave it unlocked . He got dressed quickly , slipped on shoes and dashed for the door .

Marley heard him when he came in the apartment, in fact she saw him through the doorbell camera. Marley didn’t have to tell him to come back to her room , he was already there . Marley was cuddled against her biggest pillow . Dressed in nothing but a short white cami and white panties . Her scarf was hanging off of her head , Erik would probably make it fall off soon. Marley wasn’t extra, or even trying to be sexy . To him, she just was . And even if she did ... he’s be fine with that too.

“Hey” Marley’s sweet voice was like honey to a sore throat. He kicked off his shoes and threw down his hoodie. Erik then claimed his new spot beside her . She turned in a way so that they could face eachother. “You miss me?” She was only kidding with him. The apples of her cheeks rose to make her eyes chink .

“Yup”

Marley was overjoyed with effulgence , she didn’t expect him to say that. She thought maybe he’d joke with her too , but no .

“For real?” Her brow lifted in curiosity.

“I’m not about to say that shit again” Erik rolled his eyes like a brat.

Marley gave an airy laugh. Then “I missed you too” muttered carefully from her lips as her gaze set on his lips inching closer to hers . He kissed her first, nice and slow . When he pulled back you could hear the slight wet pop. His eyes were hazy, Erik smirked because hers were still closed and waiting for him to come back . So he did . Along with his wandering left hand that just had to grip the side of her jiggly ass .

Marley wrapped her leg around his waist to be closer to him, it excited her . He groaned against her lips , bewildered by her forward behavior. Even thought Erik knew she could never be as aggressive as him. He pushed her back down onto the mattress hard and broke the kiss. Marley bit on her lip, still tasting sweet traces of this man that infatuated her. The bottom of her cami rose up way above her belly , the bottom of her breast were peaking through. Erik gave a solid hit on her ass . Her giggles were muffled by the pillow she stuffed her face in.

“Stop being shy” his tone was calm , but his actions weren’t . He hit her again , she moaned this time . It hurt good.

“I’m not” her face still in the pillow .

“Look at me then” there was solemn in his voice so Marley showed him her face .

“It’s just...” she began to talk , but had gotten distracted by his chiseled arms. Her free hand ran up and down his arm a few times . He gloated .

“Nothin’ ”

“You good” He sealed with a smirk.

Erik lifted her cami and uncovered her body . He kissed the spot right above her belly button and bit lightly in between her breast. Her breast that bounced slightly each time he made a move . Erik liked that shit, he was a breast man. He claimed her nipples , squeezing both breast together like a two for one deal. He massaged them gently, then took turns on either one his mouth craved . Marley traced the back of his head with her fingers . She tried hard not to stuff her face back into her pillow .

Erik had decided that was enough , he’d get back to those later . He sat up in front of her , in that classic position with her laying on her back . He gazed at the radiant figure she had . Her curvy body that looked so strong and fertile . Like it could handle everything he wanted to give her , everything he was going to give her .

His shirt came off with ease . This was the first time she’d seen his body in a long time . Not in the dark kitchen of her old apartment, but in this luminous room. With soft lighting from the moon and her lemon scented candle . His muscles were everything to her , she knew he could probably bench press her weight with ease . Marley felt her little precious clit throbbing . He took grip at the rim of her panties . His touch alone made the hairs on the back of her arms stand up at attention . Her blood rushed to the center of her nub. “Omg” repeated over and over in her head .

Another body, number eight to be exact. But that shit was meaningless, especially if this was the man she’d be with forever .

Forever Marley ? Girl it’s too early ...

There wasn’t even a title between the two of them , and she was already having thoughts of forever .

Marley was delighted by the feeling of him slipping her panties down her leg . She was already so wet that her panties were slightly sticking to her . Marley eased up and let him pull them all the way off . She spread her legs in a wide V. Erik got off the bed , still in view between her legs, he slipped off his sweats and briefs.

Marley wanted to say something like

“Will this change us ?”

“Is this all you want?”

But instead of talking she brought his face down to hers and kissed him . Eriks hips retreated back , and forth as he found her entrance . His tip felt that warm slippery wet hole and he eased himself in, just a little bit .

Marley let out a short gasp , unprepared for his size . He expected that, that’s what all the girls did . A couple inches slid in and out at a steady pace , she stopped retracting and allowed him to do as he pleased . He kissed her neck to comfort her , she kept her hands on the back of his shoulder blades . When he felt her fingered grip become tighter , he knew he could give her more .

“Aight , Im finna’ put the whole thing in now” he told her casually, giving her another gentle kiss. Marley’s eyes spread in shock.

“Erik, it’s more?!” Marley panicked and rested on her elbows. She looked down at the act, in disbelief at how massive he was .Overwhelmed by the site of his huge dick stroking in and out of her . She coated all his inches , ten inches if she had to guess a number.

Erik was amused by her amusement. “You like watching my dick fuck you like this?” His voice was so raspy and full of lust. When she didn’t answer , he slammed into her hard , resulting in a huge slap . When he did it again her head flew black in bliss. He gave her another stroke, harder than before , the charge of pleasure that bolted threw her body made her fall back down on the bed.

“This the shit you like, huh?” He asked , but it was more of a statement by looking at her reaction . Her mouth drew wide open , Erik invaded her , reaching every spot that needed to be hit . Scratching every itch that had been yearning to be touched. Erik fucked her hard and steady , rhythmic almost . His ass muscles flexed at his technique. Marley felt like he had rehearsed exactly what to do to her body . Her lower lips were swelling on account of his body hitting hers so hard . His thick rod hit a nub of pleasure inside of her . It felt so fucking good that Marley finally let out a moan loud enough for him to notice. It came out so uncontroled, so honest that her body practically did it for her .

Erik thought it was the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard. It threw him off game , he’d heard the moans and screams from numerous women before her. But they didn’t sound like this. Not like Marley. They didn’t come from the girl that lit his fire quite like she did . He looked up at her , his face softened with tenderness. Clueless to her effect he made her moan again for him . It was more bewildering than the first .

“Shit, Marley...” he sucked in air and hissed. Erik needed to hear that sound again , and again and again . So he made sure that every stroke gave him that even exchange. Even when she shook or her breath hitched like she was losing it . He gave her all he had , long and hard .

Marleys eyes met his for the first time . Her exposed breast bounced to his cadence. Erik didn’t understand that in the midst of getting fucked , how did she manage to still look so angelic. Marley gripped the sheets and when that wasn’t enough , she gripped him. She wanted to bite him, slap him maybe for what he was doing to her . And when gripping him wasn’t enough , she tugged at his dreads . Without words she was telling him that she needed him, and he was doing everything right .

“Oh my god , Baby!” her voice croaked and almost broke him down . Erik slowed his pace , she let out a deep sigh of relief . It was quiet for a moment, but a nice type of quiet . Where all they could hear were sloshing sounds of his dick , filling her wetness . With hitched breath, Marley looked him and asked “What’s wrong you okay?”

She worried , noticing the shift in him . He just laughed to himself and nodded his head . He thought it was sweet that she was worried about him, when it was the total opposite. “Yeah I’m good . You good ?” He slipped out of her, gazing at just how well she glazed his entire dick . Not just some of it, the whole thing. Every girl couldn’t do that for him.

Marley pushed against him , feeling empty because she wanted him back inside of her. Her plee didn’t go unnoticed, Erik was just beginning . He lifted one of Marleys firm legs up and placed it on his shoulder . He positioned inbetwen them . This gave full access for him to get deeper. Her eyes shut slowly. No cautioning , he invaded her . Her bed , that had never made noise before was now squeaking loudly because of how forceful Erik fucked her . He held on to her thigh. She held on to nothing , whenever she tried to grab a hold of anything , Erik slapped her hands away . She held back her screams but it was apparent on her face what she wanted to do . Marley was afraid of the sound she would let out . It would be ugly, exactly how she heard her cousin scream all those nights . Even her headboard hit the wall , she prayed that her elderly neighbors wouldn’t be bothered .

Just when she felt like she couldn’t take him any longer , she quickly used her hands to push him away . She wasn’t fast enough , Erik caught her .

“Why you running from me huh?” he teased and came down to her , never letting up his strokes . The same pace , the same hardness . His free hand squeezed her cheeks together, making her lips pout out . Hungrily he licked on her lips like a mad man. And when she looked as if she was about to try and run again, his hand latched on to her neck. Marley could feel herself going over the edge as he choked her. Her walls clinched around his manhood. Marleys face scrunched , her nostrils flared . She was embarrassed at how hideous she knew she looked . To Eriks view , it was the sexist face she had ever made .

He let her ease back down “Where the fuck you goin Mar ?” he said gently, followed by a satisfying groan .

“No where” she told him. Marley wasn’t going anywhere

“You so beautiful, you know I got you now.... Right” Erik ran his face along the side of hers . The feeling of his facial hair brushing against her skin reminded her of how much of a man he was . How rugged he was . His dreads overtook his face and hid the tiny beads of sweat. She pulled them back so she could kiss him . She wanted him to say that again to her . He was making her feel safe with him.

“When you run, I’ll always catch you” The break was over, Erik started to slam into her again . “You got it?” Erik was so aggressive with her, because he meant it .

“Yesssssss! ” she cried out long and submissively while He continued to get that spot “I got it baby... okay!”

“Ain’t no running, you take this shit!”

Marley could no longer make out any words but that didn’t stop her yelling out . She called on god so loud , you would have thought he walked into the room.

Each time Erik came down inside of her, he’d seethe the words “Take it! ....Take it!... Take it!” Through clinched teeth. He looked at her face of bliss , it made his blood rush to the tip of his manhood. He could have fucked her all over this room , he could have flipped her in every kind of position. But with missionary , it was a different kind of intimacy. He could kiss her , look into her eyes and make that connection with her. And if he could make her cum like this , the possibilities were endless .

“Damn , you look so good when you take my dick”

Scooping strokes that make her body want to explode . “My legs are shaking baby !” Marley had made a mess , they were on top of the huge puddle she had made . “Yes Erik , Fuck!” She buried the side of her face into a pillow , her hips arched forward so hard that the covers went down with her . Erik could feel the sensation setting from his balls , and making its short journey through his dick . He was about to bust , and right before he slipped up, he pulled out . Casting his warm coating all over the inside of her thigh.

He flipped himself over and laid on his back . Marley stayed in the position . Her legs were wide open . She tugged at her nipples as a way of easing herself. Marley was bewildered at what had just taken place . Erik was good at everything. She gazed off through her slightly open curtains, thinking about how she couldn’t wait for him to leave , just so she could see him all over again when he came back.

“ I almost didn’t pull out” he said , as if it was nothing . Reality had set in, they had used no condom and Marley was not on the pill . She was playing with fire . Marley got out of the bed and walked to her bathroom. Careful not to drip over her floor .

Erik was still in her room when she came back . After a quick wash up she had walked back in covered by her robe. He was dressed and sitting on the bed facing door . Marley could clearly see that he was about to leave her in this late hour . She closed her door and put her back against it . Her crossed arms were much like an angry mom. He could have jetted off while she was in her bathroom, At least he had the decency to wait for her .

“Come here” Erik could tell Marley felt a way about him leaving . Slowly she walked towards him. Erik wrapped his arm around her waist and used his freehand to scroll his phone . He was noting the time “I work in a few hours”

“Fuck work” she giggled and straddled his lap, causing him to fall back on her mattress . Eriks hands palmed her ass, like a magnet . He wanted to stay there, but tonight was all bad.

“My job won’t have that, I can’t ”

“Stay, make me cum again. I liked that” Marley kissed his neck quickly like a chicken pecking for food.

“Nah, my round two always lasts a lot longer” With his strong arms he managed to push her off of him. Marley flopped on to her bed, only craving the feeling of him more than before . She groaned when she felt the weight of the bed shift . Erik had gotten up .

“Fineeee” Marley dragged like a kid who couldn’t get their way . Marley walked him to the door . They shared a kiss and Erik left . Marley stayed glued at door until she heard his loud engine start. She didn’t walk away until she heard it head down her street . Then , she grabbed a clean sheet set from her linen closet .

(Hope it’s not a lot of typos)

[lothirielswanmarvel]

Dinner with the Avengers (and a Turtle)

The clang of iron against wood smacked my ears sharply. Shouts arose in the distance–some out of fear, others were battlecries. A plethora of smells attacked me at the same time in a merciless cycle. I was doing what many would dream to do, but few would dare to accomplish.

Sit at the dinner table with the Avengers.

"Let us feast!" Thor boomed, holding his fork high before it dived into the mountain of lasagna on his plate.

"Wait!" Steve Rogers stared down everyone, mentally breaking our resolve and making us set our utensils down. He reached out to Tony on one side, and Natasha on the other.

"We have to say grace first." He said.

Tony snorted and rolled his eyes, but a sharp kick from Pepper under the table made him take Captain Steroid's hand. Natasha joined hands with Clint, and Bruce, who came in late from the lab and could take the last seat available, was seated next to Thor. We all knew the terror of this position: anyone who sat close to Thor was bound to be peddled in crumbs and stains, along with being scarred for life.

"Bless this food and the hands that prepared it," I peeped open an eye to catch Pepper's smirk, and Thor's excitedness that he made edible human food (not really, Pepper kept him away from the dishes...all of them).

"Many thanks for the meal and company, especially our new friend, Sam."

Sam Wilson, who also contributed to making the heap of lasagna, sat a few seats away from me. I didn't know much about him except that, like Rhodey, he was also from the military. The two were sitting next to each other now, itching to exchange their war stories.

Tony sighed as Steve continued, "What a blessing to come together today. Our thoughts are with Clint as he battles his coffee addiction–"

"And by battling, you mean giving up and living at Starbucks." Clint mumbled, silenced by a nudge from Natasha's arm.

"–And with Bruce, who has survived another day in Tony's lab. Our thoughts are with everyone else as they go through another day in the twenty-first century–by the way, God, the forties were better–may everyone be blessed and filled with happiness."

"You're forgetting someone." Steve opened his eyes for the first time since he started speaking. Bruce gave him a knowing look.

"Come on, he deserves some recognition!"

"Fine." Steve shut his eyes again, and angled his face towards the ceiling. "Our thoughts are also with Bruce's new turtle, who left the dog park to join this circus."

All eyes fell on Bruce, who was holding Thor's hand in one fist and a squirming-green glob in the other. It was Bruce's new companion after a crazy day at the park running from soccer moms. The turtle hadn't been around for long, but Bruce already had plans to make him mascot of the Science Bros cult.

"He had to!" Bruce replied defensively, acknowledging the green-shelled tortoise in front of him. "There was a duck uprising at the park! And the soccer moms were chasing after me for fresh meat!"

"Bruce! Respect your elders!" Steve remarked. He regained his composure, and finished the prayer, "Jesus give me–us!–strength...Amen."

"Amen." Tony the Atheist rolled his eyes in disgust. Thor was amazed by this new custom, at least until he found out it was for another totally different God other than himself.

The mountain of lasagna was eagerly passed around as Thor boasted about his newfound cooking skills. Bruce edged away from the Asgardian right next to him, sacrificing his salad bowl to his turtle.

"The art of Midgardian cooking holds my interest!" Thor declared. "And after assisting Lady Pepper with the main dish, I had time to prepare an Asgardian delicacy for my dear friends!"

Pepper's eyes widened with fear, but she kept her composure. "T-Thor, that's okay. Really, we made tons of food, we can save it for later–"

"I shall bring it forth!" For the first time ever, Thor ran away from a full plate of food for something presumably less edible and more terrifying. There were some panicked glances shared around the room before Sam spoke up.

"You guys have an amazing pad, here." He replied before taking a bite of a breadstick.

Pepper's frigid demeanour vanished. "Thank you so much, Sam! We're happy you could visit us–Steve has told us a lot about you."

"All good, I'm hopin'." Sam replied.

"The best," I spoke up before digging into mouth-watering crimson sauce dotted with spicy herbs. "I heard you're a fan of Marvin Gaye."

"Yes ma'am." He said with a dashing smile I'm sure he learned from Steve himself–that's probably where his manners came from, too. "You're interested in him?"

"Well, I hear it from Tony's bedroom a lot, so I kinda have to." I replied.

Pepper nearly choked on a forkful of lasagna as Natasha shot Tony a dark glare. Clint covered his face with a napkin, snickering underneath the beige veil.

"Are you into Bell Biv Devoe too?"

"Yeah! Steve, why have you been hogging this person all to yourself?"

"And the Commodores?"

"Are you trying to make me fangirl, Y/N?" Sam wiggled his eyebrows at me, his massive arms folded on the table.

"Michael Jackson!" I grinned.

"You're killing me!"

"Do you think that's a good name for him?" Bruce replied.

We all looked at him. "Who?"

Bruce pointed at his turtle, who was nudging a part of the pasta with its nose. "My turtle. I don't know, Michael Jackson is too snazzy–I want to name him after a periodic element!"

At the mention of science, Tony became invested in the conversation. I watched the new entertainment with amusement as I took a bite of the lasagna. Pepper and Sam had done a marvelous job; the mix of gooey parmesan, the soft texture of noodles, and more invaded my mouth as a welcome intruder.

"Does he look like a Seaborgium?" Bruce picked up the squirming turtle who was playing with it's meal and held him right in front of his face, nose to nose. "Maybe we can call him Rubidium and nickname him Ruby?"

"How's Cobalt sound?" Pepper suggested.

"That's pretty cool," Bruce shrugged, and propped up his turtle on his silverware. "Any others, though?"

Natasha patted her perfect crimson lips dry on her napkin. "Boron?"

"Eh, Tony would nickname him 'moron'–don't act like that's not true, Tony."

"Germanium?"

"Steve would hate him, and Tony would call him Hitler."

"Seriously, Bruce?!"

"Yes I am, Tony."

"Bismuth?" Pepper replied, nibbling on her salad.

"That sounds like meth, Pepper." I said.

She gagged on her food, once again striking Tony's shin under the circular table. The great Iron Man squealed and withered under Pepper's scowl.

"She's right. Tony would think that way." Bruce looked down at his tortoise, disappointed.

"But you're not supposed to." Nat's eyes burned deep into my soul across the table. I shivered and sunk low in my seat, trying to hide under the white tablecloth.

"I can't name him Rhodium. There can only be one." Bruce glanced up at Rhodey.

"How about Xenon?" Tony finally offered, leaning over the table to offer the turtle his entire bowl of salad. Pepper slapped his arm.

"Ouch!"

"Eat your vegetables, Tony!"

"But mom!"

"Now!"

"It's cuter in the bedroom..." Tony muttered, making my face turn red as I was scarred for life. That was one thing Marvin Gaye couldn't keep me from.

"Eh, I don't want to name him after a noble gas." Bruce watched as his little friend scurried over to a spare piece of lettuce that had fallen out of Tony's bowl and started to devour it.

"I HAVE RETURNED, MY FRIENDS!"

We all instinctively flinched at Thor's voice, but that wasn't the worst part. My nose wrinkled as another smell wafted into the room, mixing horribly with the spicy herbs of the lasagna. It was a pungent smell...and it was advancing towards the table.

Thor dropped a dish of nightmares on the table, it's true monstrous form hidden under a cloak of tin foil. That didn't stop tons of tiny flies from scurrying over it.

Bruce clutched his turtle to his chest defensively. "Holy cannoli...is that Tony's offspring?"

Tony snapped, "Ha ha. I'll have you know that I am civilized in the lab, Bruce."

"I'm in there with you, Tony-Macaroni. Nothing comes out of there alive again."

"You do!"

"I lost my soul the first time I went in there!"

"Is that because I stole your heart, Brucie?"

Thor beamed down at his disgusting Frankenstein. It's face hadn't even been revealed, and my stomach was ready to run away and leave me behind to rot. I wouldn't blame it, personally.

"Who would like to try it first?" Thor studied the pale faces of the people sitting at the table. "Ms. Potts, would you like to–"

"No thank you! I'm a vegan." Pepper quickly stuttered.

"Starting when?" Tony remarked.

"Starting now."

"Perhaps our new guest should have the honors." Thor turned to Sam, who I pitied more than ever.

I could see the fear in his eyes. Clint, being a fellow bird, stretched out a wing towards a feather in need, "You know what, man? Food is lame. Like, who needs it, anyway? I just live off of dust...and dirt...and Natasha's scraps."

Natasha sipped a wine glass that I knew was vodka. She nodded afterwards. To my surprise, she didn't show any reaction yet to Thor's death plate. Maybe it was all the alcohol–she needed a lot to deal with Tony, so everything was probably a blur to her.

Thor gasped when he laid eyes on Bruce's new pet. He bellowed, "What is this mighty creature?"

"He's my friend," Bruce held it closer to his chest, "I found him at the dog park. He survived the duck uprising."

"Maybe we should call him Thorium," Rhodey said thoughtfully. "Especially if that means our lives are spared from not dying at this dinner table."

Thor grinned at the turtle. "If you do not wish to taste my feast prepared, perhaps I can cook it for you! I can roast it in Clint's coffee for extra zest!"

Everyone at the table shot Thor terrified looks.

"You're not cooking my friend!" Bruce remarked, scooting his chair away from Thor. The sudden movement made the layer of bugs on Thor's platter shift. The insides of my stomach swirled with waves of nausea. I wasn't hungry anymore.

"And you are not wasting my coffee!" Clint stated firmly. I took a closer look at Clint and, loan behold, there was a Starbucks cup underneath the table near him. Steve would kill him later.

"That's a no on Thorium..." Tony uttered. Pepper was too petrified of the dish on the table to snap at him.

That turtle is in for bad luck: being roasted by Thor, forced to endure the torture of being the Science Bros mascot–

Science Bros.

Science Bros.

Bros.

"Bromine." I said. "Bromine sounds cool...if you like it."

The turtle squirmed in Bruce's hands, and he took it as a sign. Bruce stared at the little guy, almost asking for permission. "Bromine...I like that. Bro-Bro is the coolest!"

"I deem thee Bromine Bruceson, worthy of living under the roof of the Avengers!" Thor cheered.

"This was much more interesting than a night of Netflix 'n Chill." Sam replied.

[obtusemedia]

Top 25 Songs of 2018: Honorable Mentions

It’s year-end list season again! And with that comes my sixth annual top 25 list.

But before we countdown the best that 2018 gave us, here’s 15 songs that just missed the cut. Like in 2017, this year had more quantity than quality when it came to singles, meaning although there were only a couple legitimate contenders for the top spot, there were plenty of solid songs that I had to give a shout out to. So apologies to great acts like boygenius, Florence+The Machine and Childish Gambino (although he easily had the best music video this year) for just missing the cut.

Let’s get into it!

“Nobody” by Mitski

There are plenty of songs about loneliness, but Mitski turns that emotion into insanity on “Nobody.” 

Her emotions ramp up and become more desperate throughout the indie-pop track, as Mitski’s pleads for companionship intensify. She wants to find love, but frankly, she also just needs human connection. And as the one-word chorus repeats into oblivion — “Nobody, nobody, nobody, nobody...” the situation becomes more and more helpless.

My main issue with Mitski’s 2018 album, Be The Cowboy, was that most of the short vignette-style songs weren’t memorable. That’s not the case for the manic, disco-tinged “Nobody,” which instantly became a standout in her impressive catalog.

“Heat Wave” by Snail Mail

I’m not sure what it says about indie rock that its most hyped newcomer is mostly copying the sounds of the ‘90s, but when the tunes are as good as “Heat Wave,” I’m not going to complain.

Nineteen-year-old prodigy Lindsey Jordan, aka Snail Mail, delivers with a simple love song perfect for lazy summer days. Jordan’s vocals are charmingly warbly and mesh well with the crunchy guitars that wouldn’t sound out of place on a Pavement album. It’s catchy enough for soccer moms and with enough alt-rock nostalgia to grab any indie rocker’s ear. There’s a good reason Snail Mail’s star has shot to the top this year among the Pitchfork set.

“Me and Michael” by MGMT

IT’S THE COMEBACK OF THE CENTURY! 

That’s not even hyperbole: After they released three generation-defining classic singles, MGMT’s relevance disappeared after their 2010 album Congratulations intentionally alienated audiences (despite being pretty solid). Then, their 2013 self-titled album was straight-up bad.

But thankfully, MGMT decided to return to the synthpop jams that brought them success 11 years ago, while keeping their weirdo quirks intact. And it was a winning formula, as the bombastic single “Me and Michael” proves.

“Michael” is painfully ‘80s, from the glittery keyboards to the thundering drum machine beat. Yet, many of the instruments are off-key and frontman Andrew VanWyngarden’s hipstery vocals aren’t exactly Duran Duran-esque. And the clash of styles helps create a solid tune, the band’s best in eight years.

“Elastic” by Joey Purp

Remember how Azealia Banks used to pump out hip-house bangers like it wasn’t even hard? Then she lost her mind, and now “212″ is a relic of a better time.

Thankfully, Chicago native Joey Purp is picking up the slack, although he puts a much more minimalist spin on the sound. “Elastic” is a very simple, skeletal song, with Purp nearly mumbling over a steady, bouncing beat with couple vocal samples to liven things up. “Elastic” shows that when it comes to club bangers, you really don’t need to overthink things.

“Nameless, Faceless” by Courtney Barnett

Melbourne indie rocker Courtney Barnett’s second album, Tell Me How You Really Feel, had a noticeably more frustrated outlook than her 2015 debut. A prime example is the album’s lead single, “Nameless, Faceless,” all about the difficulties of being a woman in a world that treats them horribly.

Barnett goes after internet trolls during the song’s verses with the droll, snarky tone that made her indie-famous, but the chorus is where things take a dark turn. Paraphrasing The Handmaid’s Tale author Margaret Atwood, Barnett sings, “Men are scared that women will laugh at them ... Women are scared that men will kill them.” She then adds that she holds her keys between her fingers in-between her fingers to protect herself at night. 

It’s a fearful song for fearful times, and more proof that Barnett is one of indie rock’s best songwriters.

“Electricity” by Silk City and Dua Lipa

Producer giants Diplo and Mark Ronson teamed up to create a perfect homage to ‘90s house. It’s bouncy, effervescent, and features one of pop’s best voices: Dua Lipa. The fact that a dance jam this perfect was only barely a hit in the U.S. is a total shame.

“After The Storm” by Kali Uchis feat. Tyler, The Creator and Bootsy Collins

I’m not typically an R&B guy, but I couldn’t resist newcomer Kali Uchis’ debut Isolation this year, especially its smooth throwback single, “After The Storm.”

Uchis glides over the off-key synth backdrop, expressing post-breakup optimism with ease. The sticky melody and relaxed vibe are helped out by a blast of smooth (if off-kilter) loverman shtick from Tyler, The Creator and some fun adlibs from funk icon Bootsy Collins. But this is Uchis’ show, and she barely needs to lift a finger to hold listeners’ command.

“Please Don’t Die” by Father John Misty

After releasing an overstuffed and underwhelming album last year, Father John Misty, AKA singer-songwriter Josh Tillman, decided to keep it simple this year, and I’m back on his bandwagon.

One reason for that is how blunt and personal his songwriting is again, particularly on “Please Don’t Die.” Tillman’s concept album God’s Favorite Customer focuses on the real-life story of how his depression caused him to hide out in a hotel for two straight months, and the heartbreaking “Please Don’t Die” tackles this scenario from the singer’s wife’s point of view. 

She constantly reminds Tillman that his potential suicide won’t be a victimless crime during the soaring chorus, and he laments how his spiraling has affected her in the somber verses. There’s no snarky winks to the audience here — just Tillman nakedly depicting how his emotional chaos effected those around him.

“My My My!” by Troye Sivan

I never paid too much attention to Australian former YouTuber Troye Sivan. Now I’m regretting that choice, thanks to “My My My!”

Pure bubblegum pop doesn’t play much of a role in today’s music landscape, so it’s hard to call any version of that subgenre “modern,” but that’s honestly how I would describe this jam. It’s a slice of stuttering tropical pop with some indie and ‘80s flavor to it, and Sivan himself sells the tune like he’d been singing these types of songs for years in a boy band. I’ll be keeping tabs on Sivan from here on out.

“Light On” by Maggie Rogers

Last year, I was floored by Maggie Rogers’ unique blend of rootsy nature sounds with blue-eyed soul, particularly in her stellar single “Dog Years.” It seems like she isn’t fixing what ain’t broken, as “Light On” is a continuation of that sound.

Although it isn’t quite as transcendent as her early singles, “Light On” is still a quality power ballad, with a nice mix of acoustic guitar and organic synths, complete with a showstopping, melancholy chorus. Rogers still knows her way around a gorgeous melody, and I’m sure she’ll continue to fill her niche as the best music you’ll probably hear at REI.

“The Opener” by Camp Cope

Camp Cope have had it up to here with shitty men, and “The Opener” is a scathing indictment of the hypocrisy the trio constantly face.

Lead singer Georgia McDonald wails over a ‘90s alt-rock groove about sexism both in the dating world as well as the music industry. The latter is where she reserves her sharpest lines, going after men who’ve said her success isn’t her own doing, and being told to book smaller venues by the same guys who will “preach equality” in public. And of course, how do these men in power maintain their faux-feminist image? “‘Just get a female opener, that’ll fill the quota.’” Scathing.

“We Appreciate Power” by Grimes feat. HANA

If “We Appreciate Power,” the (as of writing this) brand-new Grimes single, was trimmed by a minute or so, it might have made the actual list. It’s a smidge on the repetitive side at its current 5:30-length.

But dear lord: This is a BANGER. As just about every critic has said, the production here is an aggro mix of Nine Inch Nails and Korn, complete with squealing guitars, a pounding, synthetic beat and some random screams thrown in the mix for fun. And yes — it works. Put it on during the next workout and see how fast you start going.

Throw in some legitimately creepy lyrics about artificial intelligence and totalitarianism and you’ve got a classic Grimes single. If only it was a bit shorter...

“Lake Erie” by Wild Pink

For a band from Brooklyn, Wild Pink are shockingly good at creating music that sounds like the sun setting on a Midwestern corn field. 

“Lake Erie” is so close to The War On Drugs’ signature sound — heartland rock mixed with whispered vocals and shoegaze-y atmospherics — that I’d call it a ripoff, if it wasn’t arguably better than anything The War On Drugs has put out in a few years. It’s emotive, gorgeous and not too pretentious, like something Bruce Springsteen could’ve released 35 years ago.

“Noid” by Yves Tumor

No, unfortunately, “Noid” isn’t about retro Domino’s ads. It’s much darker than a claymation pizza mascot.

Yves Tumor’s art-rock track is fairly normal for its first half. It even has shades of Marvin Gaye’s “What’s Going On” in the lyrics wondering about the sad state of the world. Then, things get weird: the bass starts playing in a different key, the background fills with static and screams, and Yves Tumor keeps singing along, and his lyrics about being “scared for my life” start to seem less like a protest anthem and more like a horror soundtrack. It’s a chilling experience.

“Party For One” by Carly Rae Jepsen

Queen Carly releases another pop banger and you think it’s not going on my list? Come on, now.

I’m not going to pretend like “Party For One,” Jepsen’s triumphant breakup anthem, is on the same level as her all-time classic singles. It’s the kind of bubblegum that she could write in her sleep.

But why penalize a perfectly great song just because the artist has done better in the past? “Party For One” might not be “Run Away With Me,” but it’s still a solid piece of synth cheese that no doubt makes Canada proud.

[doubleleoenergy]

V; BLUE BAYOU SERIES

Oh that boy of mine, by my side. The silver moon and the evening tide.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: TFAWS!Sam Wilson x fem!Reader

Summary: Sam gets hurt during a mission.

Warnings: Panick attack, mentions of loss, hospitals, and pain. A nice mix of sadness and fluff.

Word Count: 1939

Author’s Notes: I have one more finale part that I’ll be writing for this series, I hope you all have been enjoying it!

The past month with Sam had been MAGICAL. Moving in was the best decision she had made, finally feeling like she had a HOME. She’s struggled for a sense of stability ever since she was a little girl. When her father died, her mother became a mess. She tried her best of course, a widower with two young daughters working two jobs to try to stay afloat. They had moved at least TWELVE times before y/ had even reached High School. Once she was old enough to get a job of her own she had helped to lighten the load of bills that were put on her mother, taking care of her sister while her mom worked nights and weekends. 

Sam was WARM, he radiated positivity and stability, and it was something she NEEDED. He was the perfect man, and sometimes she wondered if she even really DESERVED him. And being the PERFECT man he was, Sam made it a point to assure her every day of how much he loved her and how lucky he was to have her in his life.

It was a Saturday evening, Sam had left early that morning for a mission with Bucky, giving her a soft kiss before he walked out the door. She spent most of the day grading work for her classes before prepping dinner for her and Sam. He usually called when he was on his way back from a mission, but unfortunately her phone lay silent for almost two hours. Her anxiety was getting the best of her, frantically cleaning over the house as if it WASN’T already completely spotless.

Was it time to start worrying? Maybe his phone had died, or maybe he was stuck in a post-mission meeting with the team and wasn’t allowed to use his phone. After scrubbing the kitchen counter until her fingers felt RAW, she decided to stop obsessing over cleaning and try to get her mind off of Sam.

Y/N put down the sponge, washing her hands in the sink before walking into their bedroom, flopping on the bed and turning on a rerun of The Real Housewives of Beverly Hills. TRASHY television was one way to get her mind to relax. She let her mind envelop the drama between the characters, texting Sam to let him know that dinner was prepped and ready for his arrival.

After an hour of watching catfights her phone sat silent against her side, her text from Sam still unopened. It was 9:30pm at this point, the latest he had EVER come home was 8:00pm for a day mission, and this wasn’t one that was supposed to keep Sam out of town for a couple of days.

Y/N was pulled from her thoughts as her phone rang, Bucky’s name and photo coming up on the screen. She immediately picked it up, sitting up in bed and putting the phone against her ear.

“Hey, Buck, I was just going to start texting you. Sam hasn’t been picking up and he’s usually home by now. I’m assuming you just got done with a meeting or-” She can HEAR him sighing on the other line, cutting her off and trying to keep her calm. She can hear the sound of traffic in the background as Bucky drove, weaving in and out of the lanes.

“Y/N, I’m coming to pick you up. Sam was in an ACCIDENT during the mission. He’s alright, but they took him to the hospital to monitor him. I’ll be there as soon as I can and we’ll go over there together.”

It’s like she can HEAR him but he’s far away, her heart is pumping loudly in her chest and her hands are SHAKING as she hangs up the phone. “Oh my god...oh my GOD.” She gets up off the bed, stumbling around the room to put on a pair of grey sweats, one of Sam’s sweaters, and her sneakers. Tears are welling up in her eyes and she’s trying her hardest to fight them BACK, but to no avail.

The call has TRIGGERED her, bringing her back to that day in 2001 when her mom got the call. Her father’s crew hit an IED, there were no survivors and her father wasn’t coming HOME. She remembered how her mom fell to the floor in an uncontrollable fit of sobs, her little sister tugging on y/n’s sleeve and asking her why their mom was so sad. They had just received a letter from him the week prior, telling them all how much he loved and missed them, telling y/n he still slept with the small pink bear she’d told him he could have in case he felt SAD.

She crumples to the floor, out of the memories, her breathing heavy and her vision blurring. Y/N is trying to focus on a spot on the wall, on literally ANYTHING in order to not have a panic attack. It’d been so LONG since she had fought through a panic attack like this, the last time having been a few months before moving to Louisiana.

“Y/N? Y/N I’m here!” Bucky calls out, following the sound of the television drifting from the bedroom. He walks in, eyes WIDENING as he notices her body shattered on the floor, the tears streaming down her face as she tries to catch her breath.

“Hey, it’s me, y/n...you need to work on steadying your breathing. I’m gonna take you to Sam, okay? He’s fine, the doctor said he has a few bruised ribs and a broken arm...and a SLIGHT concussion.” Okay, maybe that wouldn’t help. Bucky moves to put his hands on her shoulders, trying to pull her out of the trance she was in.

His touch is helping, her breathing gradually coming back to it’s normal pace, her vision FINALLY focusing on his face in front of her. Bucky leads them in taking a few deep breaths together until she’s fully calmed, removing his arms from her shoulders and helping her stand.

“Sam is going to be fine, I promise. I’m going to take you to the hospital now, okay?” Bucky assured, leading her out to Sam’s truck that Bucky had driven back from the base.

“He BETTER be fine.”

Y/N’s foot is tapping IMPATIENTLY against the linoleum floor of the hospital. To be fair, she had only been standing there for five minutes as she and Bucky waited for someone to call them back to see Sam, but that was far too long.

The ride to the hospital had remained silent, y/n staring at the night sky as they drove, laughing quietly when Bucky complained about Sam ONLY having Marvin Gaye CD’s in the truck.

“Mr. Barnes, Miss Wilson?” The nurse called, a bright blush forming on her cheeks and her stomach fluttering at the sound of Sam’s last name coinciding with HER. “You can come see him now, he’s awake.”

They followed the nurse past the double doors, the smell of bleach and a patient’s leftover dinner wafting through her nostrils. They continue down the hall until they stop in front of room 108. “Here we ARE, I’m going to check on a few other patients and then I’ll be back.”

Before y/n reaches out to push open the door, Bucky clears his throat. “You should go in FIRST, I’ll go get us some coffee from the machine down the hall.” He utters, turning back down the hall in the direction they had just walked.

She takes a deep breath, turning the knob of the door and walking inside. She can hear the monitors beeping, walking further and seeing SAM. God, he looked so fragile in the hospital bed, his arm in a sling and bruises covering the skin of his face. “Sam…” She squeaks out, swallowing the lump in her throat.

Sam turns towards her voice, a huge smile spreading across his face immediately at the sight of her. His hand motions for her to come sit next to him on the bed. “Babe, I’m SO sorry I didn’t call. I mean, well, I’m sure Buck told you why.” He croaked, eyes meeting hers.

Y/N moves to sit next to him on the small hospital bed, making sure not to hurt him with her movements. “Yes, he did…” Her tears are falling down her face, she can’t HELP it. She feels Sam’s unbroken arm wrap around her, pulling her into his side and placing a kiss to the top of her head.

“I’m fine, the doctor said I could go home tomorrow morning. My arm and ribs will heal in NO time.” Her fingers trail up and down his clothed chest, sniffling. “You’re not FINE Sam...I’m not fine. I thought I was going to LOSE you, I can’t lose anyone else…”

Sam is confused at first, wracking his brain for what she means before it CLICKS. Her dad, she lost the first man she’d ever loved on a mission, and now she was left to relive the scenario with HIM. He tilts her chin up, stroking her cheek and wiping the dampness of her tears away.

“I know that what happened with your father has made this all seem WORSE than it is, but I will not let anything happen to me, or to YOU. I want to love you forever, I promise you that. And besides, I JUST became Captain America. I’m not looking to be replaced any time soon.” He teased, a small laugh escaping her lips at his words.

“Yeah, tonight definitely triggered me. I ended up having a panic attack but Bucky came and calmed me down. You’re right, I can’t just be AFRAID for you any time you leave the house. Today was just surreal and it showed me just how deeply I care for you. How I also want FOREVER with you.” She places a gentle kiss to his lips, hearing him slightly wince as she had her weight on his bruised ribs. “Oh my gosh, I’m sorry.” She moved off of him and over to the chair beside the bed.

A knock interrupts Sam’s protests, Bucky striding into the room, two coffees held up in his hands. He hands one over to y/n, taking a sip of his own as he moves to stand closer to Sam.

“Damn, man, you look like SHIT.” Bucky commented, a sly smirk spreading across his face. “RESPECTFULLY, I mean.” Y/N smacks his arm, stifling back a laugh.

“Very funny, Buck. Say it when I’m healed and you’re a DEAD man.” Sam responds, his free hand moving to grab y/n’s and give it a squeeze.

“If we’re going to roast Sam, I think the bruises aren’t fair game. That ugly tablecloth of a gown? That’s completely FAIR.” She announced proudly, winning a high five from Bucky and a groan from Sam. “But don’t worry, I know just what to do to make you feel better. I’ll be the BEST home nurse when you leave here.” Y/N followed the sentence up with a wink, Bucky making fake puking noises beside her.

“I guess that’s my cue to leave. Let me know if you need anything.” Bucky rests his hand against y/n’s shoulder, giving her a smile before walking out of the hospital room.

Once the door shuts, y/n moves to rest next to Sam again, careful this time to make sure she isn’t pressing on his ribs. She leans her head on his shoulder, both of them closing their eyes as Sam runs his fingers through her hair absentmindedly.

“I guess we’ll just have to be CAREFUL having sex until your body heals...my FOREVER.”

[kootenaygoon]

So,

Ed wasn’t acting like himself.

I’d been working alongside him at the Star for nearly three years at this point, and I’d never seen him lose his cool in any significant way. He rarely raised his voice, was known for long thoughtful pauses, and always addressed conflict calmly and head-on. But now he was acting squirrelly, like he was harbouring a bothersome secret, and I had the sense that something bad was about to happen. It all seemed to be stemming from my handling of the Kessa situation. We’d called off the story about her death over the weekend, but not before having a lengthy and heated phone conversation outside the church about it. 

After the funeral I’d chatted briefly with Kessa’s godfather, who gave me her typed-up eulogy and seemed game to participate, but we’d since received word that the family didn’t want coverage. I’d been both disappointed and relieved at the decision, because I’d been feeling unsupported and overwhelmed by approaching a story of this magnitude.  

“You know, I saw on Twitter this morning that Black Press published a new fentanyl story out of Victoria with this teenage soccer player. Big interview with the Mom and everything,” I said, arriving to the newsroom on Monday morning.

Ed shrugged, his face dark.

“I’ve been thinking about this since Saturday, right? Like if we’re going to keep covering the fentanyl beat, we’ve gotta figure out the right way to approach this. Because a lot of these families want to keep this shit as secret as possible.”

Ed turned in his chair, and cleared his throat. “Listen, we can talk about this at some point but not right now. We have other work to do, and I don’t want to waste any more time on this. Is that understood?”

I blinked a few times. “Sure, I guess.”

“Now you have that interview scheduled this morning, correct? I’m going to be in court, so I won’t be able to accompany you like you asked. But I think you should be able to handle it on your own.”

I nodded. Really, I’d been stressing out about my upcoming #MeToo story all weekend. I was thinking about a Rolling Stone cover feature about a college gang-rape that had recently been debunked, with journalist flaying the offending reporter for her failure to fact-check her witness. I was scared the same thing would happen to me if things went sideways. My approach was to have the women share what happened without naming their assailants, so that the focus wouldn’t be on the veracity of what happened but the aftermath they went through reporting the assaults to Selkirk College and Elephant Mountain Secondary. That being said, I had been hoping Ed would back me up to show solidarity and ensure we were doing everything by the book.  

“I think I can handle it,” I said. “If you’re busy.”

He nodded curtly. “Good.”

Once Ed collected his stuff and vacated the office, I spent a few minutes staring blankly at my computer screen. I was endlessly replaying the events of the weekend in my head, from visions of me sobbing in the back row of the church to sitting in the Nelson Police Department getting the story from Sgt. Nate Holt. He described for me how he’d encountered Kessa a few days before her death, and was there when her body was found. While he trembled with anger, clearly devastated by the experience, I noticed that her file was open on the screen beside him. I quickly scanned the information and the pictures, learning way more than I wanted to know. I had the feeling I was tumbling down a rabbit hole, but there was no Wonderland at the bottom for me. 

I took a deep breath. Laela and Mharianne were supposed to meet me at the office any minute, and they deserved my full attention. I had to banish this Kessa spectre from my mind and focus on the real live women who were being brave enough to share their experiences. She’d slipped through my fingers, but they wouldn’t. I was determined to produce something meaningful about rape culture, almost as penance, following my column from the Friday edition. Both of them had been underage when the abuse occurred, making their message that much more impactful. 

Ten minutes later, once I welcomed Laela and Mharianne into our interview room, I assured them that I didn’t need to know any more about the specifics of their assaults — both of them had individually described to me what happened — but I wanted to hear about the events that followed, and how they coped. They were both approximately 20, innocent-looking but strong, and I admired how determined they both were to contribute. I set my phone on a table between us and invited them to share one at a time.

“You feel really isolated and alone, because it feels like if you bring it up everyone will look at you differently,” Laela said.

“When I went through what I did, it’s not that I don’t think the school tried to make a difference in the aftermath. But just because of the social stigma that exists around these topics, it felt like the school wanted me to be quiet, and we just wanted to keep going like everything was going to be okay — which it was — but the mental end was really hard for me.”

While she spoke, Laela sat prim with her hands in her lap. I’d seen her perform at multiple venues around town, marveling at her virtuosity. She’d introduced me to a song called “Redbone” by Childish Gambino, and performed a killer rendition of “Sexual Healing” by Marvin Gaye. Since interviewing her at the pro-choice event I’d been increasingly wowed by her sense of moral conviction.

“I want to get the message out that this is in high schools, colleges and small towns — I want this to be more open to discussion, which will take away the fear and social stigma I experienced. I did come forward with the story, but on my end I was really scared. I was mad, but I didn’t want to ruin anybody’s life,” she said.

“I feel like fear made me bury what happened to me, and that probably happens to lots of people. I wouldn’t say I’ve overcome the fear, but the more I’ve been able to talk about it the easier it is to move forward with my life.”

Next I turned to Mharianne, who had been my makeup artist when I performed in Rock of Ages. She was sporting freshly dyed hot pink hair and elaborate makeup, which was her passion. She’d initially reached out to me via Facebook while the community was discussing #MeToo online. 

She seemed tentative at first, shyly looking at her lap, but eventually she began to confidently describe an escalating situation in high school that she’d reported to administration and felt was ignored. She was concerned that an overpowering boy in her class was a continued physical threat, and found another classmate who was willing to go to the police about it.

“Two of us came forward to try to get the ball rolling so we could have some comfort going to school, and I was told it was brought into a meeting. Then I heard there were people being forceful about getting our names out, which was terrifying to me,” she said.

Her fear: “I thought people would say I was crazy, or they wouldn’t believe me.”

She recounted a vivid memory of him approaching her during class, and being frozen in place. She had a previously close relationship with her assailant, and that’s something she believes people don’t realize — quite often the people responsible for sexual harassment or assault are close friends or family members.

“This person had shown so much aggression towards me that I was actually nervous being around him, and I didn’t want to be in the same school as him — and that was a whole year.”

The school administration brought in a speaker and led the group in a team-building exercise, but McKeeve was disappointed that “the one person who should’ve been there wasn’t.”

Once the interview was over, I informed them that I was planning to connect with the principal and the president of the two institutions involved next. Though neither institution could address their specific stories, they could speak more generally about the evolving policies around sexual assault, and the lessons that had been learned. They were both tearful and thankful as we wandered outside to take their picture. We wandered across the street to a small creek, where I found a leaf-strewn bank that would make a good back-drop. I asked them to pose side by side, their faces reflecting the seriousness of the story.

“Mharianne,” I said, “maybe you could lean against Laela, so you guys are connected. It kind of shows you’re supporting each other, right?”

Looking through the lens, I knew I had the perfect image. I was starting to feel giddy and high, bouncing back from the dark place Kessa and Ed had taken me. I may not have been able to tackle that particular evil, but here was another story I could really believe in. I hadn’t written anything of this magnitude before, and already I knew what a giant splash it would create. Beads of sweat collected in my hairline as we hiked back to the main intersection, shook hands, and then parted ways.

As I tromped back into the office I knew that If I approached this right, it could easily be the most powerful story of my career.

The Kootenay Goon

[runson-stories]

Part 2: A Kiss

Length: Long

When Lisa woke up, she knew it was going to be a great day.

Rays of warm light kissed her cheek as they broke through her window, and she smiled in acknowledgment of their warmth. As her eyes softly opened, she could see leaves dancing in the sun outside her window, and amidst the quiet sleepiness of her room, she could hear the soft whistles of songbirds. She rolled onto her back and yawned into a full-bodied stretch. Yes, today was going to be a great day.

When she sat up, her feet met the cold hardwood ground and the searched for the softness of her slippers. She loved how her slippers let her glide across the floor, and as she completed a complex spinning maneuver, she thought herself akin to someone like Dorothy Hamill. In another semi-professional slide of acrobatic proportions – at least in her mind – she found herself in front of her record player, and pressed play. “What’s Going On” by Marvin Gaye… That Marvin sure knew how to make getting dressed a sexy occasion.

With Marvin’s apropos voice filling the room, Lisa felt that she could now sit at her vanity and begin her morning rituals. Her bright, hazel eyes met her with a knowing glance as she breathed in the satisfaction of her beauty. She was beautiful in-fact, and she knew it. She started to remove little pink curlers from her hair, and one-by-one, beautiful brown curls fell around her face. To her left was a poster of Patrick Swayze holding a bright-eyed Jennifer Grey. Lisa looked from Jennifer to herself. Close enough, she thought.

After making some final touches to her eyes and lips, Lisa skated from the vanity to the closet. A nice floral top would do, and oh yes, that white skirt with those Converse… Yes, today is going to be a great day indeed.

With one last self-approval of her ensemble, Lisa made her way downstairs and into the kitchen.

“Well, you’re looking chipper!” said Lisa’s mother, Sharon, as she placed some bacon on a frying pan. “What’s the special occasion?”

“Oh nothing…” said Lisa coyly. “Just a date!”

“A date?” said her mother, surprised. “With who? And why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”

Lisa frowned, “Oh, relax mom. It’s nothing crazy… he’s just a boy I met at school.”

“At school? Do I know him?”

“No, he’s new to town” said Lisa seeming very satisfied.

“New? From where?”

“Gosh mom! Do you want his social security number?”

“Oh, don’t be silly. I have a right to know who my daughter is going on a date with” said Sharon as she flipped a piece of sizzling bacon.

“His name is Juda and he’s from Texas, I think… I’m not really sure. He’s kinda quiet, but he’s really cute and he asked me out last Wednesday.”

“Do you know where he lives? Have you met his parents?”

“No mom… I told you, he’s new to town. I just met him like two weeks ago.”

Sharon placed a piece of finished bacon on a plate, and Lisa quickly snatched it up with a napkin.

“Well I’d really appreciate it if you didn’t go out with random boys I don’t know… why don’t you take that boy Derek along? He’s such a sweet boy…”

“Mom. No. I told you, I’m not talking to Derek anymore” said Lisa sternly as she ripped off a piece of bacon with her teeth.

“I know… but I really did like Derek.”

“I know you did…”

“Well anyway, are you going to stay for breakfast?”

“No, Juda said he wants to make a day out of it, so he’s going to pick me up in a bit.”

“A whole day?” said Sharon with a concerning look. “That’s quite the commitment for someone you barely know.”

“Mom, relax. Like I said, it’s nothing crazy. He’s just a really nice guy” said Lisa as she checked her lipstick in a hallway mirror.

“Well alright” said Sharon with a sigh. “As long as he has you home by eight for dinner.”

“Dinner at eight?” asked Lisa, confused.

“Yes, your dad said he’s going to have a late day at the office, so we are going to have a late dinner.”

“Ok, well I’ll let Juda know.”

“Thank you. And sweetie?”

“Yeah?”

“If he tries anything funny, you just run ok?”

“Oh my GOD mom, stop!”

“I’m serious Lisa! You don’t know what kind of creeps are out there.”

“Ok, ok! I got it… Not everyone in the world is a creep…”

“I’m just saying… Anyway, eight o’clock” said Sharon with a serious look.

“Eight o’clock” acknowledged Lisa.

A car horn sounds from outside.

“He’s not going to come in at least?” asked Sharon in a tone that seemed offended.

“I told you, he’s shy.”

Sharon stifled an eye roll.

Lisa rushed towards the door, “Ok, I love you! I promise I’ll be fine and that I’ll be back for dinner.”

“I love you!” called Sharon as Lisa ran out the door. Deep down, Sharon couldn’t shake the feeling that something was a bit off, like an ember sitting at the base of her gut. But like most mothers of a 16-year-old, she suffered the internal battle of trusting her child. She feared that if she clung too tightly that her daughter would slowly and more aggressively push her away.

Sharon walked up to the kitchen window and looked out on the front yard. In the driveway, she saw a dark green Toyota Celica Supra. In the driver’s seat was a curly-headed figure. When Lisa got in the car, Sharon saw that figure lean over and kiss Lisa on the cheek.

Met him two weeks ago? And what teenager could afford a car like that? She thought. Lying little… The smell of smoke distracted her. “Shit!” She ran to the burning bacon, grabbed the pan, and threw the bacon into the sink. When she looked out the window again, the car was gone, and she could hear an engine revving in the distance. “Be careful Lisa…” She said to herself, and deep within her, she felt that ember burning a hole in her stomach.