#my sister said the shirt my nephew got was ‘too feminine’

[louisgayvodka]

-

[castl3inthesky]

destiny - morpheus

chapter i

chapter summary: in which gale dreams herself in the 19th century meeting a brother and sister but wakes up from her house almost being burnt down

word count: 975

notes: hi hopefully you enjoy! sorry that this was a long time coming

playlist  cast ao3  chapter i  chapter ii

Gale’s dreams had always felt real, even if she didn’t remember them.  She could always feel the happiness of a true dream or the fear of a nightmare. However, the dream she was having now was different. This one felt real, but it felt like she had it before even though she never had. 

She sat in a meadow with the sunlight bathing her. A book sat in her hand but made of leather. She looked at the cover to see the golden letters of A Midsummer’s Night Dream etched into it. Of course, it was Shakespeare. It made sense to Gale that it would be in this dream. She was teaching Romeo and Juliet this week. However, she has never read A Midsummer’s Night Dream even in all her years of schooling. But somehow, she felt a connection to it, and it wasn’t the first time she glazed her eyes on the pages. 

She looked up as she heard not just the wind blowing but voices in the woods. Her head turned to see two people walking through the trees. One of them was a masculine-looking person with pale skin and short black hair. The other was a feminine-looking person with curly, black hair and dark skin.  Unlike his stern expression, hers was cheerful. It looked like she was the one carrying on the conversation as she bit into a peach. 

Gale didn’t recognize either of them. She got the feeling that she knew everyone in the town. It was intriguing to her to see new faces. She stood up swiftly and started running through the meadow, following behind them. Her dress flew behind. As she came closer, the more she overheard the conversation. 

“Please, at least try it.” The curly-haired person shoved the peach in the pale one’s face. 

Even though his eyebrows were arched, he reluctantly took it and ate it. His face didn’t change. 

“Good, right?” She smiled. 

He doesn’t say anything back to her, not disagreeing or even agreeing.  Gale could notice that he tried to hide a smile. The curly-haired person elbowed him and laughed. “Oh, brother, I did miss our time together.” 

“And I did too, my dear sister.” He spoke back. 

Gale hid behind a tree watching them and was about to follow them until she took a step onto a stick. It snapped loudly, causing the two siblings to turn in Gale’s direction. She quickly hid behind the tree. 

“Seems like we have a secret admirer.” The sister smirked and walked closer to the tree. 

Her brother responded. “Humans are an invasive species.” 

Gale breathed as quietly as she could. She was confused by what he said but she focused more on hiding her identity. She looked down at her feet to find black shoes in front of her. Gale breathed out as she moved her head up. There, standing there was one of the people she was watching. His eyes looked longingly at her. No wonder he didn’t talk much, his eyes said so many words. Her lips quivered as she was about to say something- 

                                                          ~

Gale jumped up from her bed to the fire alarm going off. It took her a second to realize where she was. She wasn’t in a meadow, dressed in a 19th-century dress but instead in her baggy University of Cambridge t-shirt and plain underwear. The fire alarm continued to go off and Gale groaned, knowing what was causing it. 

Smoke filled the kitchen as a teenage boy, whipped a towel around the smoke alarm. Gale watched him jumping up and down, trying to move the smoke away. 

“Troy. Not again.” Gale sighed before grabbing another towel to help him. 

He yelled back as the alarm stopped. “I wanted to make you breakfast for the first day.” 

After the alarm stopped, Gale ruffled her nephew’s short, curly hair and kissed him on the forehead. “I appreciate it.” 

Then, she opened the cabinet above the oven and pulled out a bowl. Next to that cabinet, she opened a few boxes of cereal, taking out the Special K’s box. 

“This is why you should stick to making cereal.” 

Troy laughed while he grabbed the milk from the fridge and poured it into the bowl. Gale rolled her eyes as she grabbed an apple from the basket on the counter. Troy, then, poured cereal into the bowl. 

“I thought I raised you better.” Gale laughed before she took a bite of her apple 

Troy responded with a chuckle. “Nope.” 

Gale said before taking another large bite. “Please tell me you studied for that science exam. Mr. Gilmore has been bragging every day in the teacher’s lounge that all his students are going to fail.” 

Troy took a bite of his cereal and almost choked on it as he laughed. “Don’t worry, I did. His exams aren’t as hard as he thinks they are.” 

Gale laughed before she said.  “Well, eat quickly while I go change.” 

��What do you mean?” Troy joked. “You’re not going to go to work dressed like that?”  

Gale rolled her eyes before turning her head to look out the window.  Rain poured against the window, making her yawn. The thoughts of her dream came flooding to her. She wished she didn’t have to work, and could just go back to sleep. 

[chicgeekgirl89]

The House in the Pines Where the Road Ends

Fandom: 911 Lone Star

Characters: Carlos Reyes, T.K. Strand, Andrea Reyes, Gabriel Reyes, The Reyes Family

Rating: K

Summary: Four sisters. Nine nieces and nephews. Dozens of aunts, uncles, and cousins. Carlos has a big, loud, over-the-top family, and T.K. is about to meet all of them at the annual Reyes Family Barbecue. It's a day that promises food, fun, and lots of nosy questions. All T.K. wants is to make a good impression and all Carlos wants is for his family not to scare off his boyfriend. When a stray baseball ruins the fun, both T.K. and Carlos will discover that neither of them ever needed to worry.

A/N: I am so happy to FINALLY introduce you to my version of the Reyes family. They have become a character all their own and I love them very dearly. Get ready to see and hear more about them in upcoming fics! I cannot say enough thank you's to @bluenet13​ who has read this fic approximately a billion times in all its different stages, has beta'ed the heck out of it, and still wants to be friends with me.

For the @badthingshappenbingo�� prompt: Sports Injury

Read on Ao3

“Wait, but are you sure this shirt is okay?” T.K. asked, twisting around in front of the mirror to look at it from every possible angle.

“Do you really think my family is going to decide whether or not they like you based on your shirt?” Carlos asked with a laugh.

“It’s their first impression of me,” T.K. said, fussing with the hemline, trying to get it to lay exactly right. “I just want it to be good.”

Carlos came up behind him, wrapping his arms around T.K.’s waist and resting his chin on his shoulder. “They are going to love you.” He pressed a kiss to T.K.’s cheek.

T.K. turned in his arms so they were face to face, anxiety trickling through his veins. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” Carlos told him. “I love you too.”

“Your family is important to you and I guess I can’t help feeling like…there’s a chance that if they don’t like me…”

“T.K…” Carlos sent him a look of fond exasperation.

“I know!” T.K. said quickly. “I know it’s ridiculous. But if they don’t like me, I don’t know where we go next.”

“I don’t think we need to borrow trouble like that,” Carlos said. “You already know my parents love you. And so do Elena and Elías.”

They’d had dinner at Carlos’ second eldest sister’s home a few weeks back. It had been fun to meet her and her husband along with their daughter, Carolina, and twins, Marco and Diego. Marco was rambunctious and spunky while Diego was more mild mannered and T.K. had enjoyed watching Carlos chase them around the backyard, playing baseball, tag, and wrestling.

But meeting one sister and her family was completely different from attending the annual Reyes Family Barbecue where there would be hundreds of aunts, uncles, and cousins to try and remember.

“Trust me,” Carlos said. “Elena will have spread the word and you’ll already have pre-approval before we even get there.”

“What if I call someone the wrong name?” T.K. asked. “I still think you should have written up a family tree like I asked you to.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “There’s no point. We’re adding to it like every day there are so many of us. You’ll never be able to remember. If you’re not sure just call them Gabriel or Valentina. There’s a forty percent chance you’ll be right.”

“This isn’t fair,” T.K. said, burying his face in Carlos’ shirt. “I have like, four family members. The playing field is so uneven I don’t even have a chance.”

Carlos kissed his forehead. “Just relax and enjoy the food. That’s all anyone expects of you.”

“I seriously doubt that,” T.K. grumbled.

“Listen, if anybody should be concerned in this situation, it’s me,” Carlos said.

“You?” T.K. raised his eyebrows. “Why?”

“You just said, you come from a small family. My family is big and loud and all up in each other’s business. Francesca alone might be enough to make you run all the way back to New York.”

Carlos had talked before about his wild child fourth sister, Francesca. Apparently she was a force to be reckoned with and had caused quite a bit of trouble as a kid. According to Carlos every time he’d gotten in trouble, it had actually been Francesca’s fault. Well Francesca and Adriana, Carlos’ cousin who was more like a fifth sister. She and Francesca had been born within weeks of each other and been an inseparable duo ever since.

“New York is a pretty long way to run,” T.K. said. “And I’ve gotten kind of used to sleeping with you. I don’t really want to have to break in a new mattress. Oh, and for all I know you’ve gotten kind used to having my exercise bike in your dining room and I would have to buy a new one of those, plus moving costs are out of sight and I am on a civil servant’s salary here.”

Carlos kissed him again. “Come on. We’re already late and if we don’t get there soon then I will be in trouble.”

T.K. had already visited the Reyes family ranch a handful of times, but he had never seen it quite like this. Cars lined every inch of the drive up to the house, from pick-up trucks to mini-vans and everything in between. “Is this a family barbecue or a Lady Gaga concert?” T.K. asked as they got out of the car.

Carlos laughed and reached for his hand. “I told you.”

“Yeah I hoped maybe you were exaggerating a little bit,” T.K. said as they walked toward the driveway. As if he hadn’t been nervous already, now he felt overwhelmed. He was generally charming and good with people, but this was…a lot.

Carlos tensed. “Come this way,” he said, voice low as he tugged T.K. more to the side of the driveway, where a row of cars hid them from view of the house.

“What are we doing?” T.K. asked in confusion.

“We’re—”

“Carlitos don’t you even try! We see you over there!” a feminine voice called.

Carlos winced and looked at T.K. “I’m just going to say ahead of time that I’m so sorry.”

“Sorry for what?”

Two women came around the line of cars, each of them holding a drink. “You weren’t trying to hide from us were you?” the taller of the two asked.

“No I was just trying to get T.K. inside without the third degree first,” Carlos said, giving each of them a pointed look.

“Carlitos we’re not going to give him the third degree,” the second woman said, her many earrings flashing in the sunlight. “We’re just going to try and prepare him for what he’s about to face.”

“You don’t need to prepare him,” Carlos said with a sigh of long suffering. “There’s nothing to prepare for.”

“Oh my god Carlos, you cannot just drag him in here without some proper preparation,” the first woman said, turning to look at T.K. “So, you’re the firefighter stripper, huh?”

T.K.’s eyes went wide and he looked to Carlos who had closed his eyes and was shaking his head. “For the last time, he’s a paramedic now and he has never been a stripper.” He opened his eyes and took a breath in a clear attempt to calm himself down. “T.K. I would like you to meet my sister Francesca.”

“His youngest older sister,” Francesca clarified looking T.K. up and down. “You’re hot enough to be a stripper.”

“And my cousin Adriana,” Carlos said loudly in an attempt to stop his sister’s comments. 

“It’s nice to meet you both,” T.K. said with a smile, hoping to diffuse some of the awkwardness. “Carlos has told me a lot about you.”

“Is it about how we were always getting him in trouble when he was a kid? Because that’s a lie,” Adriana said. 

“Total lie,” Francesca echoed. “So, how has it been, living in sin with my brother?”

“Oh my god Francesca can you just let us get through the door first?” Carlos cried.

She shook her head and grinned. “Nope. This is way more fun. Besides, Adriana got to know about him first, so I wanted to meet him before everyone else.”

���Did Carlos tell you not to tell Tía Maria you’re living together?” Adriana asked.

“Um, no, he didn’t mention that,” T.K. said, looking once again to his boyfriend.

“I didn’t really think it was necessary,” Carlos said.

“Tía Maria has strong religious opinions,” Francesca said.

“Oh is she not…” T.K. began to pull his hand from Carlos’ but his boyfriend held on firmly.

“Tía Maria is fine with the gay, she’s just not all right with fornication,” Adriana said with a grin, eyeing T.K. for his reaction.

“Oh my god, forget it, we’re going home,” Carlos said, trying to turn around, but Francesca grabbed his other arm.

“Nuh uh hermano,” she said sweetly. “Mom and Dad are expecting you. I already texted them and told them you’re here.”

“Wait hold on, I’m confused,” T.K. said, feeling slightly panicked as the conversation moved so quickly around him. “What do I need to know about Tía Maria?”

“Tía Maria is very against pre-marital sex,” Francesca said.

“In her mind we’re all pure, sweet, innocent little virgins, waiting to give up our virtue to our husbands on our wedding nights,” Adriana said, her face suggesting that she’d rather throw up than submit to that particular lifestyle. “Little does she know that ship has sailed.”

“Under the bleachers with Jake Thompson in the eleventh grade,” Francesca said.

“In Mike Kowalski’s backseat…”

“After prom with Sebastian Chavez…”

“Okay that’s enough of the sexcapades thank you,” Carlos said, looking disgusted.

“You didn’t think I needed to know this?” T.K. said looking at Carlos.

“I am not ashamed of us living together,” Carlos told him. “I don’t care if Tía Maria knows.”

“Ugh barf,” Francesca said. “God I wanted to be mad at you for caving and leaving us all alone at the singles table but you’re so grossly in love I don’t even want you there anymore.”

“Can we go in now?” Carlos asked. “Is this little interrogation over with?”

“Oh you can go in, but it’s far from over,” Adriana said, wrenching T.K.’s arm away from Carlos and tucking it into her own as she walked him toward the house. “So, T.K. What can we get you to drink? Beer? Margarita? Or are you a wine snob? You look like you could be a wine snob.”

“He’s from New York, they’re all wine snobs there,” Francesca said.

“T.K. doesn’t drink,” Carlos called from behind him. “You already know that.”

Adriana nodded. “Just checking. That’s cool. I did the sober thing for like six months once. My skin was so great.”

“Okay, I’m taking T.K. inside now,” Carlos said, rescuing his arm from Adriana’s grip. “You two can go back to wherever it is you came from. I’m going to guess…the gates of hell?”

“So rude Carlos,” Francesca said with a roll of her eyes.

“Come on Cesca, I need another margarita,” Adriana said, pulling her toward the back of the house.

“But I have more questions!”

“Questions later! Margarita now!”

They disappeared around the side of the house, leaving Carlos looking embarrassed and T.K. feeling like he’d just been through a whirlwind. “You can literally ignore everything about them,” Carlos said as he opened the door. “Just pretend they don’t exist. That’s what the rest of us do when they get like this.”

T.K. had a feeling neither Francesca nor Adriana liked to be ignored, but Andrea greeted them immediately as they walked inside, leaving him no opportunity for further questions or conversation. “T.K.! Carlitos! Welcome!”

There were a few other people milling around inside, but it seemed like most of the family was in the backyard. T.K. could hear music playing and the smell of barbecue wafted through the glass slider doors that led to the oversized back patio.

“Sorry we’re late Mama,” Carlos said, giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

“It’s my fault,” T.K. said. “I had a shift and it ran over.”

“No apologies necessary,” Andrea said, waving a hand. “I understand the important work you boys do. I’m just sorry your dad couldn’t make it T.K.”

“He said to tell you hello and that he will be here for sure next time,” T.K. told her with a smile.

It had been a huge relief to find out that the party was scheduled while his dad was on shift. The last thing he needed was one more thing to give him anxiety about meeting Carlos’ family.

Andrea caught his face in both hands. “We are so glad you’re here T.K.” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “Now, let’s get you something to drink. I’ve got lots of that fancy water you like.”

The back slider opened as Andrea pulled a water from the refrigerator for T.K. “Boys! Bienvenidos!” Gabriel boomed as he stepped inside, bringing the scent of barbecue with him.

“Gabriel close that door before the air conditioning gets out,” Andrea scolded.

“Of course mi amor,” he said. “I was just looking for another set of tongs. Daniel is going to help with the second grill.”

“They’re in the pantry,” Andrea said. “Where they always are.”

Gabriel paused to kiss her on the cheek. “What would I do without you?”

“Starve?” Carlos suggested with a cheeky smile as he grabbed a grape off the counter and popped it in his mouth.

Gabriel snorted. “Probably.”

“All right now you two, head on outside and join the party,” Andrea said. “You don’t want to be stuck in here with me.”

“Are you sure?’ Carlos asked. “We can stay and help.”

“No, no,” Andrea said quickly. “Gloria will be back in a minute. Go! Enjoy! Introduce T.K. to the family.” She lowered her voice. “But don’t tell Tía Maria that you live together. You know how she gets and I do not need another lecture on how I raised my children with loose morals.”

“Yes, for everyone’s sanity, please keep that to yourselves,” Gabriel said, reappearing with the tongs in hand. “No need for my sister to know that you are breaking the commandments.”

T.K. turned and looked at his boyfriend. “Everyone seems very concerned about this.”

Carlos shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Everyone is overreacting. Tía Maria isn’t that scary.” He kissed T.K. on the side of his head and grabbed his hand. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you. Besides, there are so many people here, we might not even see Tía Maria.”

They stepped out the door into the backyard. To the left was a play set that dozens of children were taking advantage of. To the right were several grills, all smoking away, the tables next to them already piled high with food and drink. And underneath sprawling oak trees dozens of picnic tables and lawn chairs had been set up, all of them full of people talking, laughing, and eating together. 

“I knew you should have made that family tree for me,” T.K. said, starting to feel really nervous now as he saw exactly how many people had scattered across the backyard.

They made it about four feet before they were accosted by well meaning relatives. Cousins, aunts, uncles, everyone seemed to want to meet Carlos’ new boyfriend. T.K. smiled and nodded and tried in vain to remember everyone’s names. Carlos hadn’t been exaggerating, there were a lot of Gabriels and Valentinas.

“Ay, okay, leave the boys alone,” a woman finally said, interrupting the melée. She sported a longer version of Carlos’ curls and T.K. remembered her face from some of the family photos. “Shame on all of you, they haven’t even eaten anything.”

She turned a warm smile on them as the crowd dispersed and went back to their merriment. “Hola T.K. I’m Teresa.”

Carlos’ oldest sister. She and her husband Javier lived in San Diego with their four kids, Valentina, Eva, Gabriel, and Bianca. Their visit to town was the reason the barbecue had been scheduled for this particular weekend. 

“Nice to meet you,” T.K. said, immediately feeling the same warmth and comfort radiate from her that he did from Carlos. 

She turned and pulled her brother in for a hug, whispering something in his ear that made him laugh. “Come on. You can sit with us. I’ll fend off the nosy relatives,” she told them.

“Thank you,” Carlos said in relief. “I didn’t think it would be quite this bad.”

“You never do,” she said with a smile as she led them to the picnic table where her husband Javier was sitting with another couple that T.K. thought he recognized. 

“T.K. this is my husband Javier. And have you met Lucía and Justin yet?” Teresa asked.

Ah, Lucía. Carlos’ third oldest sister. She and Justin lived with their kids in McKinney and had driven up for the weekend. They had been set to attend the dinner with Elena and Elías but one of the boys had ended up in a soccer championship so they’d had to cancel. 

“So T.K. I hear you’re from New York? Nice to have another East Coaster join the party,” Justin said.

“Oh yeah, Carlos said you’re from Philly right?” T.K. asked.

“Born and bred,” Justin raised an eyebrow. “You don’t cheer for the Giants do you?”

T.K. smiled. “I’m more of a Mets fan actually. Football’s not really my thing.”

“Well that means I don’t have to hate you, but don’t say that too loud in Texas. Football is life here,” Justin told him.

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. replied.

“Tío Carlos!” a gaggle of kids ran up to the table all of them clamoring for Carlos. 

“Tío Carlos I got on my soccer team at school!”

“Can you come play baseball!”

“Did you know my tooth is falling out?”

“Is that your boyfriend?”

Everyone talked at once and Carlos seemed to take it in stride, giving hugs and ruffling hair, looking at loose teeth, and promising to come and play in a minute.

“Hey, all of you, adiós,” Elena said. “Leave Tío Carlos alone. He’ll play with you later.”

It took a few more admonishments from their parents, but eventually the children dispersed to different corners of the ranch. “We’re doing you a favor T.K.,” Lucía told him, rocking baby Nicolás back and forth. “Once Carlos goes with the children he doesn’t come back.”

“He’s their favorite uncle,” Justin explained.

“And for good reason,” Javier added. “His knees are young and spry.”

“You guys are exaggerating. The kids love everybody,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

Teresa shook her head. “It’s okay to admit that you’re their favorite Carlos. You’ve earned the honor.” She looked at T.K. “Carlos is too modest.”

“So I’ve noticed,” T.K. said fondly and he could see Carlos blush a little bit.

“Okay that’s enough of that,” Carlos said. “We’ve been here half an hour and no one has offered me any food. What has happened to this family?”

The situation was fixed immediately and T.K. found himself with more food than one person could possibly hope to consume, sitting and listening to the Reyes siblings recount stories from their childhood.

T.K. felt the bench next to him shift and turned to find Francesca and Adriana joining them.

“Did Carlos tell you about the time he ran away from home?” Teresa asked.

Carlos groaned. “No, do we have to tell this story every time?”

“Yes, because it’s hilarious,” Elena said. “He was what, about six at the time?”

“I was sixteen so yes,” Teresa said. “Carlitos was mad because all of us sisters got to go to a movie and he didn’t. So he wrote a note saying he was running away and never coming back.”

“And then he disappeared for seven hours,” Lucía chimed in. “Mom was beside herself. They checked the entire house, called all his friends, she was sure he’d been eaten by a coyote.”

“Well I was the one who found him,” Teresa said with a smile. “Up in that tree,” she pointed several feet to the left, “crying because he’d climbed up too high and couldn’t get down.”

“We had to call the fire department to come and get him,” Francesca said with a smirk.

“And when they got him down, did he get in trouble?” Elena asked. “Nope. Because Mama was all—“

“My baby!” all four women chorused together. 

“Carlitos never gets in trouble,” Adriana said. “Ever. All he has to do is bat his eyelashes at Tía Andrea and she starts talking about how innocent and sweet he is and how he could never start a fight or break a window…”

Carlos had put a hand to his forehead and looked like he was in physical pain. “Are you done now?” he asked.

“No way,” Lucía piped up. “We still have to tell T.K. about the time you drove the tractor into the pond.”

“The pedal was stuck!” Carlos cried.

“That’s what he says every time,” Francesca told T.K. “It’s a lie.”

Carlos burst forth in a tirade of Spanish, likely exonerating himself from the tractor-pond fiasco and all of the women immediately began to contradict him. T.K. wasn’t sure whether to smile or intervene as they all talked over each other. His high school level Spanish could only pick up the occasional word. 

“This happens every time,” Elías said. “They’ll calm down in a minute.”

“A minute?” Javier said. “Forget a minute. We can all leave, they’ll be at it for at least half an hour now.”

Things really came to a head when Francesca stood, slammed her hands against the table, and shouted, “I did not put that goat in Lucí’s bed, that was Elena!”

“I watched you do it!” Carlos yelled back.

“Well then your brain is broken because that is not what happened!” Francesca said, pointing a finger at him.

The argument was broken up by the arrival of Andrea, followed closely by another woman T.K. didn’t recognize. “Girls! Ya basta! Qué esta pasando? Arguing in front of our guests, what is wrong with you?” she said, setting a large plate of taquitos in front of them.

“Disculpa Mama,” they all muttered, but T.K. caught Francesca giving Carlos the finger under the table and then she jumped a second later when he pinched her leg.

“Honestly,” she scoffed at them. “I am ashamed of all of you. T.K. I apologize on behalf of my daughters. I did not raise them to be like this.”

“See?” Lucía said with a roll of her eyes. “We’re all in trouble, but Carlitos is completely innocent.”

“Of course he’s innocent, he would never argue in front of guests,” Andrea said. “Did you all say hello to Tía Maria?”

“Hola Tía,” they all chorused.

“And Maria, this is T.K., Carlos’ boyfriend,” Andrea said with a smile.

T.K. felt himself stiffen under the intense gaze of Carlos’ infamous aunt. But he smiled and waved a hand. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she said. She turned and looked at Teresa and Javier. “Cuándo será la primera comunión de Marco y Diego?"

T.K. caught a glimpse of Francesca who smiled at him and raised her eyebrows in an “I told you so” kind of way. 

“Later this summer,” Elena said smoothly. “We will send you an invitation of course.”

“They are a bit behind, no? Why the delay in this important milestone?”

“Tía, with Covid and everything it all just got pushed back. Don’t worry,” Elena told her.

“You’d better get a move on,” Adriana said. “We wouldn’t want them to miss out on all the blessings of the Lord.”

Tía Maria’s eyes narrowed as she picked up on Adriana’s sarcasm. “Is there something wrong with wanting my nephews to grow up properly in the church?”

“Of course not,” Andrea said quickly. “And they are Maria. Very good, pious little boys.”

T.K. saw the mischievous glint in Francesca’s eye as she opened her mouth. “So T.K., you live with your dad?” 

Everyone at the table froze and turned to look daggers in her direction. “Ah Maria! The watermelon! We forgot it inside, come on,” Andrea said quickly, glaring at her daughter over her shoulder as she ushered Maria away.

“Cesca!” Teresa chastised as soon as they were out of earshot.

“I was just trying to take the pressure off of Elena,” Francesca said innocently, taking a sip of her mojito.

“You were trying to stir up trouble,” Lucía said as the baby began to fuss. 

“Well someone has to keep things fun around here!”

“Mom! Mom! Mom!” Marco and Diego ran toward them, kicking up dirt as they skidded to a stop by the table and interrupted the conversation. 

“Mom can I have another cookie?” Marco asked.

“I want a drink but Carolina said I can’t have a soda, but can I?” Diego asked.

“And Tía Teresa, Gabriel wants to know, can he get his Switch out of the car now, because he said you said he could get it later and now it’s later,” Marco spoke up on behalf of his cousin.

“Okay, hold on, everybody take a breath,” Teresa said.

The group momentarily broke up as everyone went to tend to their children’s needs and make sure they had eaten something besides cookies and chips. 

“So, are you ready to run back to New York yet?” Carlos asked when they were the only two left at the table.

“I think I’m holding my own all right,” T.K. said. “You were right about Francesca though. She’s…something.”

Carlos rolled his eyes. “Believe it or not that actually was her being on her better behavior. I swear you’d never know she was working on a masters in biochemistry.”

“She’s fun,” T.K. said. “And she and Adriana clearly have the most dirt on Carlitos.”

“Maybe we should leave now,” Carlos said with a groan. “They’ll keep at it as long as you’ll listen.”

“I like it,” T.K. said, taking a sip of his mineral water. “It’s fun seeing you like this. Baby brother Carlos is a whole new side of you.”

Carlos blushed a little bit. “The way they’d talk you’d think we were all still kids.”

“It’s sweet. They adore you.”

“I—”

Carlos was interrupted by Valentina, Teresa and Javier’s youngest, who came running over, crying so hard she was hiccuping instead of breathing. “Tío Carlos!”

“Valentina, qué pasó?” Carlos asked worriedly, gathering her into his arms and sitting her on his lap.

“Marco me dijo que no podía jugar pelota con él,” she sobbed, her little heart so clearly broken over her cousin’s refusal to let her play ball with him.

"Lo siento, Valen. That's not very nice." Carlos hugged her close and kissed her hair. "Pero no le hagas caso. What if we get you a cookie, will that help?”

She shook her head, lip stuck out in an adorable pout, fresh tears threatening to spill over.

“Two cookies?”

She held up three little fingers and Carlos opened his eyes wide in mock surprise. “Tres?! Ay Dios mío.” He shook his head. “Come with me, pero no le digas a mamá.”

He slid Valentina off his lap and offered her his hand, which she grabbed onto eagerly. He looked at T.K. “I’ll be right back.”

“Take your time,” T.K. said, watching them walk over to one of the tables. 

Carlos pointed to several different options, Valentina shaking her head at each one until he found the kind of cookie she liked best.

T.K. felt a presence next to him and turned to find Francesca had returned. She had a strange look on her face. “You know he’s never brought anyone home before. Not like this.”

T.K.’s breath caught in his chest. “I didn’t know that.”

“He’s happy,” Francesca said. “Happier than I’ve seen him in a long time.” She turned and looked at him. “You make him happy.”

“I do my best,” T.K. said. “He makes me happy too.”

“Yeah.” She looked at her brother again, adding some fruit to Valentina’s plate. “He wants kids. You know that right?”

“I do,” T.K. said. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. “You’re good with that?”

T.K. looked at his boyfriend who was tenderly wiping the last of the tears from Valentina’s cheeks. They had talked about it of course. A few times. In passing. He knew where Carlos stood. And he knew that he wasn’t sure what kind of dad he would be, but also that he would do anything to make Carlos happy; including facing his own fears about being a father. “He’ll be a great dad,” was his answer.

She squinted at him, then squared her shoulders. “I’m only going to say this once and if you ever tell anyone I will deny it and shove your balls so far up your ass you won’t know how to get them out again. Carlos is special. And I know you’re all city boy, New York, squeaky clean, firefighter paramedic, or whatever.”

“But if I hurt him you’ll kill me?” T.K. asked, raising his eyebrows.

“No,” she looked at him like he was crazy. “Teresa will. She’s like his second mom. She’ll take you down so fast you’ll never even see it coming.”

T.K. laughed. “I have no intention of ever breaking his heart. I promise.”

“Good,” she said. “That’s good.” She cocked her head the way Carlos did when he was about to say something he knew was funny. “You’re pretty great for a stripper.”

“Okay, one more time. Not that there is anything wrong with sex work, but I have never been, and have no intention of being, a stripper,” T.K. said firmly.

“That’s what they all say!” she tossed over her shoulder as she got to her feet and flounced away to find Adriana. 

“What was my sister telling you?” Carlos asked as he returned, Valentina now seated happily with some other cousins at a kid sized picnic table. “Oh god, was she talking about the time I got arrested for skinny dipping in the lake because there is so much more to that story than the way she tells it.”

“No,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows, “but now I want to hear the rest of that. No she was just…being a good big sister. You’re lucky to have so many people watching out for you.”

Carlos softened, his hand seeking T.K.’s. “And now I have you too.”

T.K. squeezed gently. “Yes, you do.”

                                       XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

All in all the day was going well. T.K. had handled every nosy question, every argument, every weird thing his sisters or relatives did with his usual charm and self-confidence. He fit in. 

All Carlos had really wanted was for T.K. to like his family, but seeing them like him right back…it was doing strange things to his heart. He hadn’t known until this moment how much it meant to gain his family’s approval of his relationship. He’d convinced himself that he was fine either way, and he probably would have been. But seeing them all joke and talk and laugh together was beyond his wildest dreams. And it was making him think some pretty crazy things about the future.

They’d chatted some more with his siblings and a few other family members who’d stopped by the table. But now Lucía had gone to put the baby down for a nap, and Teresa and Elena had been pressed into kitchen duty with his mother, while the men of the group had been enticed inside by a game on TV. Which left only Adriana and Francesca at the table. 

“So, T.K., now that the boring adults are gone, tell us everything,” Francesca said, a sneaky smile on her face.

“Ooh yes,” Adriana said, getting comfortable on the picnic bench. “Tell us all your dirty secrets T.K. You lived in New York so do you actually work for the mob? And how hard was it for you to learn to put gas in a car at such an advanced age?”

“Unfortunately no mob connections, although that probably pays better than firefighting or being a paramedic,” T.K. said with a laugh. “And the learning curve on driving was actually pretty quick. We have to fuel the engines, even in New York.”

“Well that’s boring,” Francesca said as she picked up a tamale. “Come on, you have to be more exciting than that. Any secret lovers you’re keeping back there on the side?”

“Cesca!” Carlos said sharply.

“I’m watching out for you!” Francesca cried. “I mean if you two have an open relationship or something that’s your business, but if he—”

“No,” T.K. said quickly. He looked at Carlos. “There’s no one in New York. Or anywhere else.”

Adriana and Francesca both wrinkled their noses, but Carlos hardly noticed, too busy looking at T.K. who was gazing at him with so much tenderness and love. He was taking it all in stride, the insanity, the prying. Questions that might have set him off a year or two ago he now brushed off like it was no big deal.

“Ugh, come on!” Adriana said. “There has to be something. You basically grew up on the set of Gossip Girl. You have to know at least one Kardashian or something.”

“Yes, how many private helicopter rides have there been?” Francesca asked eagerly. “Or penthouse ragers? You have to have been to a penthouse rager of someone famous!”

T.K. shook his head. “Sorry to disappoint.”

Adriana pouted. “So boring. Not one secret?”

“Oh, I have secrets,” T.K. said with a grin. He laced his hand through Carlos’. “But only Carlos gets to know them.”

“You play dirty, Strand,” Francesca told him with an approving smile. 

Carlos had had enough. “Come on,” he said, pulling T.K. to his feet and away from the women without a backward glance or apology. 

“Where are we going?” T.K. asked and Carlos wished the answer was a dark corner somewhere that he could kiss his boyfriend’s face off and show him how much he appreciated his efforts today. But that would not be happening anywhere on the premises. Francesca and Adriana could sniff out a couple having a quickie from a mile away. They’d caught Teresa and Javier in a Sunday School classroom during Elena and Elías’ wedding and had never let them forget it. Although Bianca had been born nine months later so apparently getting caught hadn’t been too much of a turn off. He definitely wasn’t risking it though. 

He pulled T.K. over to the patio where the music had cranked up to an all time high now that his cousin Rafael had arrived and was playing DJ.

“Okay,” T.K. said, looking nervous all over again. “You know I can’t really dance right? That first night at the bar, that was all just to get in your pants, you know that right?”

“What?” Carlos feigned surprise and then rolled his eyes. “Yes, I know. And considering that you managed to get into my pants about half an hour later, I’d say it worked pretty well.”

“Not the point Carlos.”

“I’ve seen you dance. You’re fine,” Carlos told him.

“Yes in the club!” T.K. told him, eyes wide as he took in the way some of Carlos’ relatives were dancing around them. “This is like something out of Grease! Did you all rehearse this before you got here?”

“Look, Justin’s dancing.” Carlos nodded to where Lucí had managed to get a moment free from her children and pulled her husband onto the impromptu dance floor. 

“Justin’s been in your family for five years. He’s had practice.”

“You’re just going to follow my lead,” Carlos told him confidently as he pulled T.K. close. “Relax.”

“I can’t relax. Your Tía Maria looks like she’s about to come over here and remind us to leave room for the Holy Spirit,” T.K. hissed.

“Like I said earlier, I don���t care what Tía Maria thinks. I haven’t for a long time. I just want to dance with you.” He cocked his head and turned on his most charming smile, eyes pleading a little bit.

T.K. rolled his eyes and groaned. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

“Exactly,” Carlos allowed himself a full on smirk.

He put one hand on T.K.’s shoulder, the other on his hip and gave a comforting little squeeze. “And now you just follow my lead.”

He took a half a step forward, slowly, not following the music at all, encouraging T.K. to step back with his opposite foot. They managed fine for about three beats until T.K. stepped wrong and they stumbled over one another’s feet. “Sorry,” he said, face going slightly pink. “I told you.”

“You’re tense,” Carlos said. “You can’t dance when you’re tense. Relax. It’s all in the hips.”

“I’m from New York. I barely have hips at all, let alone beautiful, sexy, latin caderas like yours.”

Carlos laughed and bumped up against T.K. with said caderas. “You like my caderas?”

“You know I love your hips and normally I wouldn’t complain about anything you do with them, but everyone is staring at us.”

“They are not.” Carlos took a quick glance around the area and found that indeed, many of his relatives were staring, and he could read wedding bells going off in their eyes. “Okay they are but that’s because they’re nosy, not because of your dancing. Don’t worry about them. Focus on me.”

“Just don’t blame me if I break your toes,” T.K. said nervously.

“I think I’ll survive,” Carlos told him. “I’ve never seen you like this before. I like it.”

“Like what?”

“Completely off your game,” Carlos told him. “You never approach anything with less than one hundred percent confidence and charm.”

“Well I only do things I’m one hundred percent confident in,” T.K. said. “That way I never have to look like I don’t know what’s going on.”

“Ahhh, now it all makes sense,” Carlos said with a laugh.

The music changed and Carlos shifted so that they were closer together, one hand entwined with T.K.’s, the other on his lower back. “So. Tell me the truth. How glad are you that your dad didn’t come today?”

T.K. laughed. “Oh god so glad. You know how he is. He and your sisters would have spent the entire day trying to one up each other on embarrassing stories about us. And he might have won.”

“Oh I doubt that. We’ve got about two more hours until my sisters bring up the bathtub incident.”

T.K.’s eyes widened. “The bathtub incident?”

“Let’s just say it was very expensive and mostly Francesca’s fault.”

“You know, your sisters seem to take a lot of the blame in these stories even though you have a starring role in all of them. I’m starting to wonder who’s really telling the truth here.”

“Shh,” Carlos said, pulling him a little closer. “I’m a cop. I’m very trustworthy.”

“Uh huh.” T.K. looked amused.

“Hey, guess what?”

“What?”

Carlos leaned forward so his lips were touching T.K.’s ear. “You’re dancing.”

And indeed he was, their bodies swaying back and forth, T.K. following all of Carlos’ movements without any trouble. T.K. opened his mouth to respond but he was interrupted by the reappearance of Adriana. “I take it back,” she said, causing them both to pause their movement.

“Take what back?” Carlos asked in confusion.

“There’s no way he’s a stripper. Not with dance moves like that. Yikes.”

“I don’t know whether to be relieved or insulted,” T.K. said.

“Good,” she said, giving him a mischievous wink. “I like to keep people guessing. Now step aside gringo and let us show you how it’s done.”

She grabbed Carlos’ hand and before he could protest she’d pulled him out to the center of the dance floor, yelling at Rafael to put on something they could really move to. Rafael smoothly transitioned into a song Carlos recognized and Adriana grinned as she began to salsa, clearly expecting him to partner her. He rolled his eyes, but obliged, catching her around the waist and moving back and forth in time with her.

“We approve,” she said as he spun her back and forth.

“Of my dancing?” Carlos asked.

“No, of T.K.,” she said with a smile. “We really like him. Me and all your sisters.”

It should not have warmed his soul so much to hear the words, but it did anyway. “Good,” Carlos said. “Is that why you pulled me out here? To tell me you like him?”

“No, I pulled you out here so he could check out your ass while you dance,” she said, looking over his shoulder, her grin widening. “Which he totally is by the way.”

“Adriana, shut up,” Carlos said, but he smiled anyway and dipped her, really letting loose as the music hit the chorus. Because apparently he was not above showing off for his boyfriend.

By the time the song ended he was sweating and breathless and so was Adriana. “You’ve still got it cousin,” she said. “Now go on. Go over there and take a victory lap with your boyfriend and his puppy dog eyes.”

Carlos looked over to find T.K. looking suitably impressed at the edge of the patio. Carlos shook his head, a blush rising to his cheeks as he walked over. “Well someone’s been holding out on me,” T.K. said when Carlos got close.

“It’s just dancing,” Carlos said.

“Just dancing? Carlos that looked like…I don’t even know, but it was freaking amazing!” T.K. said, his eyes wide. “I didn’t know you could dance like that. Why are you over here dancing with me?”

Carlos rolled his eyes and pulled T.K. close to him. “Trust me, Adriana might be a state champion in Salsa, but I prefer dancing with you any day.”

“She’s a state champion?” T.K. asked in surprise.

“Yep,” Carlos said, pulling him back onto the dance floor. “Three years in a row.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah, Adriana is good at pretty much anything she decides to be good at. It’s a little ridiculous.”

“That doesn’t explain where your dance moves came from,” T.K. said, looking expectant.

“I um,” Carlos thought for a half second about lying before he decided to give in and tell the truth. “I may have partnered her for a few years.”

“How long is a few?”

Carlos sighed and squeezed his eyes closed. “Like fourth through seventh grade.”

T.K.’s jaw dropped. He pointed a finger at Carlos’ chest. “I can’t believe you’ve never told me that!”

“Well it’s not like it’s relevant to everyday conversation! When would it have ever come up?”

“I don’t know!” T.K. shook his head. “What made you stop?”

Carlos shrugged. “I’m good, but I’m not championship level good. And I was getting into baseball. And Adriana is…really difficult to work with.”

“Carlos! T.K.!” They both turned to find a very welcome presence interrupting their conversation.

“Tía Luci,” Carlos said, pulling back from T.K. so he could give her a hug. “I wasn’t sure if you were coming.”

“Well you know I had a date querido. T.K. mi amor! It’s so good to see you!” The many bracelets she was wearing jangled loudly as she hugged T.K. with equal fervor. 

T.K. had been to several Sunday dinners at this point and Tía Luci had accepted him exactly the way Carlos hoped she would, with nothing less than complete and total love. She’d always encouraged Carlos to be exactly who he was and love whoever he desired. It helped of course that she’d had four husbands of her own and was currently single and dating with astonishing frequency.

“It’s good to see you too Tía Luci,” T.K. said with a smile.

“I thought mom said you had a pottery class,” Carlos said.

“I had a date at pottery class,” she said and then leaned closer. “And the clay wasn’t the only thing that got handled, if you catch my meaning.”

Carlos’ cheeks burned as T.K. laughed. His aunt was a free spirit and that meant she was pretty free with most things. Including her sex life. And while Carlos didn’t judge, he definitely didn’t always need all the…details she provided.

“Oh don’t look so scandalized,” she admonished, squeezing his arm. “It’s not like you’re a saint either, sobrino. With a boyfriend like this you must get up to all kinds of nonsense. And if you’re not you should start. You’re only young once!” Someone caught her attention and she waved. “I must go see Alejandro, but you two have fun dancing.”

“How about we run away to New York together?” Carlos asked as she floated away.

“You love her,” T.K. said knowingly.

“I do. But I don’t need to know every detail of her dating life. And no matter how many times I tell her that she doesn’t quite seem to get the message.”

“Seems like Francesca and Adriana come by it honestly,” T.K. said. “Oversharing runs in the gene pool.”

“Yes along with nosiness, a strong desire to meddle, and a life long obsession with the Astros,” Carlos said with a roll of his eyes.

“And yet somehow you have none of those qualities,” T.K. said, raising his eyebrows in a way that suggested he was being sarcastic.

“Me?” Carlos said. “What are you talking about? I don’t do any of those things.”

“Maybe not so overtly. But when you found out Mateo’s house had blown up, you organized all those donations to help out him and his roommates.”

“Because it was the right thing to do!”

“Of course it was. But it was also meddling. Kind meddling. But meddling. And we’ve talked about the cow eyes.”

“What do the cow eyes have to do with anything?” Carlos asked, slightly annoyed.

“When you want to know something that I don’t want to share, you waste no time turning them on. And you know that neither I, nor anyone else can resist. Nosiness.”

“That’s not nosy! It’s…digging for information.”

“Information your chosen suspect may or may not want to share. The suspect being me. Admit it Carlos. You’re more like your family than you’d like to believe.”

“I—“ Carlos struggled to come up with a reply. “I don’t like that you’re siding with my sisters. That was not the point of bringing you here. You’re supposed to back me up.”

“Oh I will never speak to your sisters about this,” T.K. told him. “I’ve got your back. I just want you to know that I know.”

Carlos opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a small body hurtling into his legs so hard he almost fell over. “Tío Carlos!” Marco practically yelled. “You said you would come in an hour. It’s been more than an hour. Will you pleeeeeeeeeeeease come throw the ball with me? You promised!”

Carlos looked a T.K. who smiled and nodded toward Marco. “Go ahead. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m not sure I want to leave you alone with my sisters after what you just said. I’m scared about what other things they might put into your head.”

T.K. laughed and gave him a little push. “Go. I’ll try not to be swayed further to their side.”

“You heard him! Go! Go!” Marco pushed Carlos from behind over toward the grassy area past the picnic tables.

“Marco, Marco, relax,” Carlos said, breaking away from his nephew’s aggressive pushing. 

“I waited all day,” Marco told him with a glare.

“And you’re going to wait longer if you’re not polite,” Carlos told him.

Marco looked only slightly chastened. “Sorry.”

“Mhmm.” Carlos tried not to roll his eyes. “Do you have a ball and a glove?”

“Yes!” Marco ran ahead and grabbed them off a picnic table. “Here. This one’s yours. Abuelo got it out of the garage for me.”

Sure enough it was Carlos’ high school mitt. It was beyond worn out, but it would do for a quick round of catch before he rescued his boyfriend from the clutches of whichever sister had decided to grill him next. 

“Okay you go over there and I’ll go over here,” Marco said excitedly, running several yards away, ball clutched in his hand.

His first throw took Carlos by surprise. “Whoa! You’re getting really good at that,” Carlos said as he tossed it back.

“Dad says I might make the travel team this year,” Marco said excitedly as he delivered another throw that made Carlos’ palm sting.

“Yeah I think you’ve got a good shot at it,” Carlos told him. “How’s your fast ball?”

“So good! But I have to work on my curve ball. It doesn’t always go the right way.”

“Ah, I’ve got a trick for that. Let me show you.”

It didn’t take long for all of Carlos’ nieces and nephews to realize he had left the adult table and was available for fun. After he finished with Marco, a game of tag was requested by his other nephews. Then Bianca and Elena wanted to show him the crafts they’d been working on and make him a friendship bracelet which he immediately put around his wrist. 

Nearly an hour had gone by and Carlos began to look around for his boyfriend, feeling guilty for having left him alone for so long. But just as he began making his way back to the picnic tables, Carolina found him and wanted to tell him all about a school project she’d finished recently.

One minute he was chatting with her about orca whales and the next something was colliding with his skull, hard and fast. He felt his head snap to the side, fingers automatically going to touch the spot directly behind his ear.

Carolina had frozen her eyes wide. “Tío Carlos? Estás bien?” she asked tentatively.

The world seemed to tilt and he sank down slowly onto a picnic bench, fingers fumbling against the weathered wood as he tried to aim successfully and not miss and fall to the ground instead. “Sorry!” Marco called, running over. 

Oh. The baseball. That’s what had hit him. That explained the extreme throbbing that had started and why he could already feel a knot growing at the site of impact.

“You hit Tío Carlos right in the head!” Carolina scolded.

“I didn’t mean to!” Marco protested back. “I just threw it, that’s all! I was working on my curveball! It wasn’t my fault!”

“It’s nobody’s fault,” Carlos said calmly, even though his vision was starting to blur at the corners. “It was an accident.”

“See? It’s fine!” Marco told her. 

“I’m telling Mom!”

“No you’re not!”

The two continued to squabble and Carlos closed his eyes as their raised voices cut through his skull like a knife. “Carolina,” he interrupted finally. “Can you go find T.K. for me? Tell him I need to ask him something.”

“Yeah.” She narrowed her eyes at Marco. “I’m still telling mom,” she hissed, causing him to take off after her as she ran away.

Carlos swallowed against the sudden queasiness in his stomach. He was regretting the number of tamales he’d eaten now.

The sunlight was really starting to hammer into his skull so he closed his eyes and concentrated on breathing through his nose, trying to keep his stomach from becoming violent. A hand on his knee startled him. “Carlos?” T.K.’s voice was quiet and concerned. 

Carlos opened his eyes and found his boyfriend or rather, several blurry versions of his boyfriend, looking up at him. “Hey,” he said quietly. Even talking seemed to hurt his rattled brain.

“Are you okay? Carolina said something about a baseball.”

“It was an accident,” Carlos said. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Okay,” T.K. said slowly, clearly trying to gauge the situation and read between the lines of what his boyfriend wasn’t telling him. “Where did it hit you?”

Carlos took another slow breath in through his nose as his stomach clenched. “Behind my ear.”

“Which side, this side?” T.K. asked, lifting a hand and gently probing at Carlos’s skull.

His fingers found the knot almost immediately and even though his touch was gentle it sent a stab of pain shooting through Carlos and his stomach lurched. He jerked away, unsuccessful in suppressing a tight lipped moan.

“Okay, hey I need you to talk to me, all right?” T.K. said, his voice going serious as his fingers instinctively sought the pulse point on Carlos’ wrist. “How bad is your pain?”

Carlos had had concussions before; you couldn’t play varsity baseball without the occasional injury. This was ten times worse than he remembered. “Like a seven?” His voice was shaky and opening his mouth at all felt like a huge risk given the discontent happening in his stomach. “And there are about four of you right now.”

“Did you lose consciousness?”

“No.”

“Can you tell me your name?”

Carlos squinted at him. “Are you really asking me that?”

“Answer please,” T.K. said, eyes serious.

“Carlos Nicolás Reyes Moreno.”

“And where are we?” 

“My parents’ ranch.”

“Good. And what’s your badge number?”

Carlos opened his mouth and found his mind strangely blank. “I—”

“You can’t remember?” T.K. asked.

“I—no.” He felt panic start to well up in his throat. “T.K…”

“It’s okay,” T.K. said calmly, gently cupping the non-injured side of his face. “You’re going to be all right. But we need to go to the hospital, okay?”

“Oh god,” Carlos groaned partly from pain and queasiness and partly from panic. “Any chance we can sneak out of here without telling my family?”

“Oh, babe, I think that ship has sailed,” T.K. said sympathetically.

“Carlitos? What happened?” Andrea approached at a rapid pace, the Reyes sisters flanking her along with Adriana, Tía Maria, and Tía Luci. He was sure his father wasn’t far behind.

Even as pain clawed at the inside of his skull Carlos tried to assuage their fears. “I’m fine, just a little accident,” he managed.

“Carolina said Marco hit you in the head,” Elena said worriedly. 

“Head injuries are very serious,” Tía Luci told them. “I once dated a tennis player who got a concussion.”

“He got hit with a tennis ball?” Elena asked.

“No, we got a little overly enthusiastic in the bedroom. No half assed sex from that one!”

Carlos heard Tía Maria start muttering a prayer.

“Andrea! What’s going on? Is he all right?” Predictably Gabriel had caught up with the group, a large grill spatula still in his hand.

“Let’s just give him a little room to breathe,” T.K. said calmly, holding up a hand to keep them from coming in closer to smother him with concern. “Francesca if you could go get me some ice and a towel please.”

She disappeared in an instant toward the back of the house.

“Should we call an ambulance?” Teresa asked.

“I am fine,” Carlos insisted again, squeezing his eyes closed as another wave of nausea and dizziness swept over him. He would be. As soon as he was away from his coddling family and in his bed at home.

“Carlitos you be quiet and listen to your boyfriend. He is a professional,” Andrea scolded, worry coloring the sharpness of her tone.

“Yes, T.K., what does he need?” Gabriel asked.

“We’re going to get some ice on here and go from there,” T.K. said. “I don’t think an ambulance is necessary at this point.”

Francesca returned with ice and a towel. “Thank you,” T.K. said, wrapping the ice up tightly and then ever so gently pressing it against Carlos’ head.

He hissed in pain, knuckles gripping the edge of the picnic bench so hard he felt splinters of wood begin to dig into his fingertips. “I’m sorry,” T.K. murmured sympathetically. “We need to try and get the swelling down.”

“It’s okay,” Carlos said through gritted teeth. He hadn’t thought it was possible for his head to hurt more, but the added coldness of the ice was proving to be too much and he felt the tight hold he had on his composure starting to slip. He wanted to leave, he wanted to lie down and sleep, he wanted T.K. to hold him while he cried like a baby because everything hurt like a motherfucker and he was embarrassed as hell about it. 

His family was still carrying on around him, he could hear them asking questions and making plans, but all he focused on was T.K.’s free hand, the one that wasn’t pressing ice to his skull. That hand was resting comfortingly on his knee, thumb moving slowly back and forth. Thank god T.K. was here to mitigate the chaos.

He didn’t realize he was starting to drift away until T.K.’s hand squeezed his knee more tightly and then moved up to his shoulder, keeping him upright. “Hey, hey, no, don’t go to sleep,” he said urgently.

Right. Sleep was not a good idea. Carlos forced his eyes open and tried to focus on his boyfriend’s worried face, but it swam in front of him and made his stomach churn. “T.K…”

“I’ve got you,” T.K. said firmly. He turned and looked up at Andrea and Gabriel who had come to hover a little closer. “We need to get him to the hospital.”

“I’ll drive you,” Andrea said immediately.

“You’re entertaining all these guests mi amor,” Gabriel said. “You stay, I’ll take the boys.”

“We’re all coming,” Lucía said immediately.

Carlos felt his heart rate quicken at the thought of his entire family standing around in the hospital waiting room and the kind of chaos that would cause. He didn’t need to worry though. “I don’t think that’s a good idea,” T.K. said quickly. “There’s no reason to believe this is anything more serious than a concussion. It will be quick, not worth everyone coming out.”

“I will update you the entire time,” Gabriel promised.

“Text messages every five minutes,” Andrea ordered.

“Can you stand?” T.K. asked and Carlos nodded his affirmative, immediately regretting the motion when the throbbing in his skull increased.

T.K. took his arm and Carlos got up on wobbly legs. He made it about two steps before his knees began to give out and he felt his father grab his other arm. “Steady mijo,” Gabriel said.

It seemed like an eternity before they passed through the house and into the front driveway. Out of sight of his family Carlos felt the last of his control slip away. The blood drained from his face and he gagged. 

“Whoa!” T.K. said, quickly lowering him to the ground as he began to heave out the contents of his stomach onto the concrete.

By the time it was over Carlos’ pain had ratcheted up to somewhere in the nines and he heard himself letting out a pathetic whimper as his brain exploded inside of his skull. “Easy Carlitos, easy,” his father said, the words barely registering as he and T.K. lifted Carlos back onto his feet and basically carried him the rest of the way to his dad’s truck.

He ended up with his head in T.K.’s lap, his boyfriend continuing to hold ice against his head with one hand, while the other ran soothingly up and down his arm. “Stay awake for me, all right?” he said.

“Trying,” Carlos said, his voice sounding cracked and broken. Mostly he was trying to breathe because he really didn’t want to throw up again. Every bump in the road, every touch of the breaks, sent pain ricocheting through his head. “It really hurts.”

“I know, I’m so sorry. We’re almost there,” T.K. said softly. “You’re all right, keep breathing, okay?”

Gabriel pulled directly up to the ER doors and he and T.K. helped Carlos into a wheelchair. If he’d been in any less pain he would have found the entire thing humiliating, but every bit of his energy was currently being spent on staying awake and not vomiting all over the floor.

“I’ll park the car and meet you inside,” Gabriel said as T.K. pushed him through the doors.

The next few hours were a hellish blur. They ran a battery of tests including an MRI and a CT scan, asked him dozens of questions, all of which he was able to answer thank god.

Despite his best efforts, he threw up twice more, T.K. holding a basin in front of his face each time, then rubbing his back comfortingly as he curled into a ball, knives stabbing through his head after such violent movement.

He hated being reduced to a shaking, moaning mess, especially in front of his father, but there was no help for it. The pain was only growing worse and there was no relief in sight, not until the tests came back.

“Breathe,” T.K. said, running a thumb back and forth over Carlos’ hand. “Carlos you have to breathe and try to relax.”

“I can’t.” The words came out on a whimper. “It hurts.”

“Carlitos, you have to try,” his dad said, sounding beyond concerned. “The more tense you are the worse it will feel.”

Tears slid down his cheeks as the pounding in his head beat on relentlessly. It had been hours and there was never any relief to the waves of pain, just a constant throbbing, knifelike agony. He squeezed his eyes shut and curled in on himself, ragged, stuttering breaths tearing from his chest.

“I’m going to go find the nurse,” Gabriel said. “My wife and daughters might be better at nagging, but I’m sure I’ve picked up a thing or two.”

He disappeared out the door and the next thing Carlos knew the bed was shifting as T.K. climbed in with him, wrapping his arms tightly around Carlos’ body. “What are you doing?” Carlos choked out.

“Taking care of you,” he said, his lips by Carlos’ ear. “You’re okay. I’ve got you. Breathe. Just a little bit longer and we’ll get you some medication. I promise.”

T.K.’s fingers stroked up and down his arm and he continued to murmur soothing words into Carlos’ ear. Carlos felt his muscles slowly begin to unclench one at a time. The agony in his skull began to ease, just enough that he could breathe easier and think a little more clearly.

His dad must have given someone a piece of his mind because within fifteen minutes the doctor had returned. “Okay, Mr. Reyes we are looking at a grade two concussion here. All your scans came back clear so while painful, your recovery should be pretty easy.”

“No brain bleed?” T.K. asked.

“No. No brain bleed, no skull fracture.”

He could see T.K. and his father sag in relief. They were both putting on a good front, trying to be strong for him, but in that moment the worry in the room finally lifted off like a cloud, dissipating into calm.

“We’re going to keep you for a little bit, start you on some strong Tylenol to help manage the pain. I’ll come check on you in an hour okay?”

It was another two hours before they were finally able to go home, Gabriel dropping them off with promises to bring Carlos’ car over in the morning.

He was more steady on his feet now and the medication had helped both his headache and the nausea, so with T.K.’s help he was able to manage the stairs without too much difficulty.

T.K. sat him on the bed and began undoing the buttons on his shirt. “I can do it,” Carlos said, but his boyfriend gave him a stern look and continued. 

This behavior persisted until Carlos was settled in bed, an extra pillow behind his head, a glass of water on the nightstand along with additional Tylenol. “Better?” T.K. asked as Carlos leaned back against the pillows with a sigh.

“Yeah,” Carlos told him. The lights were dim, causing his splitting headache to dull to a throbbing one instead. 

He heard his phone buzz for the thousandth time in the last few hours. “Do you want to see who that is?”

He couldn’t look at the screen without feeling like someone had stabbed a knife through his eyes. Hopefully that would pass quickly. It was only a grade two concussion and most of his pain was coming from the actual injury itself, not his brain rattling around in his skull.

T.K. punched in Carlos’ passcode and then scrolled through. “You have forty seven unread texts. Most of them are from your sisters. A few from your mom and aunts. And one reminding you to vote next week.”

Carlos groaned. “You’d think I was dying. This isn’t even as bad as the time Elías flipped the four wheeler over while we were on vacation. He broke his leg in two places and had to have surgery and nobody was all over him.”

“Oh, the texts aren’t about you,” T.K. said, eyes lighting up with mirth.

Carlos squinted at him. “I’m confused then.”

T.K. cleared his throat. “You listen to T.K. and do what he says. That one is from Teresa.” He scrolled a little further. “Congratulations on picking someone who’s not a dick. He actually comes in handy, that’s Adriana.” He snorted. “And this one from Francesca just says, ‘Remember not to fuck again until your brain is better.’”

“You know, Tía Maria campaigned pretty hard to send her to a convent when she was a teenager. Some days I think we should have let her,” Carlos said.

“The rest are variations on how great I am and how you need to eat a lot of soup and get a lot of rest. And I have a text from your mom.”

Carlos cracked one eye to look at him. “Are you going to share?”

“Mm…I’m not sure you can handle this one.”

T.K. was grinning from ear to ear, clearly beyond proud of himself and delighted to have information Carlos didn’t. 

“T.K. just read it. I can see that smug look on your face.”

He cleared his throat. “T.K. thank you for taking care of our Carlitos. You are such a blessing to our family.” T.K. grinned. “They like me.”

“Of course they like you.”

“They really like me.”

“Yes, T.K. My family loves you. Just like I always knew they would.”

“Well I appreciate that. But you really didn’t have to get hit in the head with a baseball just so I could endear them to me with my paramedic skills.”

“Don’t thank me, thank Marco,” Carlos said. “He’s the one with an arm like a Major League baseball player.”

“Yeah he can really throw huh?” T.K. said, brushing a gentle hand through Carlo’s curls, careful to avoid the area the ball had struck. “How’s your pain?”

“Tolerable,” Carlos said. 

“And the nausea?”

“Better,” Carlos said. 

“Good.” T.K. seemed relieved. “Listen, next time you want to get out of a family activity, you can just tell me. You don’t need to give yourself a grade two concussion. Just say the word and I will fake an emergency and get us out of there.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t fake an emergency after hour one,” Carlos said. “Thank you for today. You getting along with my family it…” Tears threatened to close his throat and he forced them back because he really wanted T.K. to know what he was feeling. “It means everything.”

“They’re easy to get along with,” T.K. said. “And we have a lot in common.”

“Oh?”

“We all love you.”

[saedii-gilwraeth-simp]

Family - TDC Post-Canon series 1

Ok so this originally was a post canon one-shot but then I really liked the idea so I’m going to do more of these focussing on Arsinoe from TDC to old age likely and all of the things that entails. 

Also, I couldn’t let go of the idea that Billy has more siblings, so I made them! Enjoy!

And then he leans close and kisses her tenderly, as the rooster clucks happily between them (fdf).

Arsinoe feels warmth flood through her, from the roots of her hair to the tips of her toes as Billy’s gentle but firm hands hold her close at the waist. She missed him, missed him like he was a part of her that she lost. In a way, she guesses, he is. Finally they hear a throat clear behind them and she wants to scowl at Jules. She pulls away to glare at her friend only to realise it was actually a passing lady in a ghastly dress who obviously didn’t approve of her and the man she loves kissing on the street. She sticks her tongue out and the woman looks even more scandalised. Billy chuckles and buries his smiling face in the hair sitting against her collar, his hand fisting in her vest.

“We should probably go inside before those pants give someone a heart attack,” Billy says and takes her hand, leading her up the path. Right before they get to the door, he pauses and finally seems to remember that she still has a chicken in her vest. He gestures with his hand and she passes him the chicken. He darts around the side of the house and after a minute, he’s back empty-handed. She tilts her head slightly and he shrugs.

“There may be a semi-chicken coop in the backyard,” Arsinoe smiles and ignores the way Jules mouths ‘semi?’ to no one in particular as they finally make it in the door, where the sounds of ladies conversation drifts from the main room. But Arsinoe doesn’t tense up like she used to. She’d been to war now, which means the thought of society ladies was only slightly less daunting. Only by a little bit. Billy looks horrified though and pauses just inside the door.

“I just remembered that my mother has been ambushing me with ladies with the hopes of marrying me off,” he pressed a kiss to her hair. “Thank God you’re here again to save me,” Arsinoe squeezed his hand before holding an arm out, gesturing for him to lead them into the room. 

Ruth Chatworth looks exactly like Arsinoe remembered, obviously not a fan of change, but Arsinoe had to admit she now understood why the woman never wore black. It definitely did not suit her pale complexion. However, her calm smile and light shoulders gave away no mourning, like she actually only wore black and closed the windows for show. Arsinoe likes her a hell of a lot more for it.

Christine Hollen sits on the loveseat facing away from the doorway but turns when Ruth sees Arsinoe and stops speaking mid sentence. Christine seems just as surprised as Ruth does.

“Hello Arsinoe,” Ruth says, standing and approaching her, obviously appraising her pants, vest and longer hair. She then seems to spot Jules behind Arsinoe and seems affronted at the clothes and the cougar at her side. “Who is your friend and why is there a large animal in my house?” Arsinoe almost wants to laugh.

“Hi Ruth. This is my best friend and the Queen Crowned of Fennbirn, Jules Milone. The big cat is Camden, her familiar,” Ruth pursed her lips at Camden but seemed unwilling to enter into a debate about it. Arsinoe sidled past her and sat down next to Christine with a smile. The Governor’s daughter looked lovely (as usual) in a sky blue dress, her blonde curls tied back in an elegant chignon. “How are you, Christine?” She looks affronted but quickly catches herself.

“I’m well, Arsinoe. Are you going to be sticking around this time?” She says, sipping her tea demurely. Arsinoe smiles gently and leans over to make her own tea. 

“I will actually Christine. My business on Fennbirn is over and I have no interest to go back,” she said, picking up a sugar cube. Christine hummed.

“And your sister?” Arsinoe’s hand froze halfway to her cup before pursing her lips and considering. She didn’t have to be a member of polite society to know that telling Christine how Mirabella died was too heavy for afternoon tea. It was too heavy for any time of day really, but sunny afternoon tea especially.

“She died in the war,” Arsinoe settled on, finally dropping the sugar cube into her teacup. Christine went quiet for a beat.

“I’m sorry for your loss, Arsinoe. I know you and her loved each other immensely” the socialite says gently and Arsinoe nods in recognition, taking a sip of her tea.

“Thank you, Christine,” the conversation was interrupted by Billy, Jules, Jane and Ruth coming to sit with them. Billy sat right next to her and put a hand on her knee, a movement not missed by Christine, but she didn’t comment

“So, Arsinoe, what business bought you back to New Estra?” Ruth said and Arsinoe knew exactly what she meant by that. 

Arsinoe sipped her tea and sighed. 

“Well, Ruth…”

~ 6 Months ~

Arsinoe didn’t have a whole lot of experience with children. She liked children and was pretty sure that they didn’t outright hate her back, but she had never really spent extended periods of time around them, Finn excluded. Which is why she was viscerally surprised to wake up to one crawling over her.

“Uncle Billy, don’t you know girls have cooties?” The child said and Arsinoe turned, slightly offended and ready to assert, rather childishly she must admit, that she did not, in fact, have “cooties.” The red-headed child (that she only recognised from photos on the mantle in Ruth’s drawing room) wasn’t paying attention to her though, instead waiting for an answer from Billy, who was groaning.

“John, she doesn’t have cooties. What are doing in here?” Billy says, sitting up so that he was at eye-level with the child.

“Mumma told me to come get you up. She wants to meet Ar-“ he seems to stumble over her name and instead points to her.

“Arsinoe,” Billy and Arsinoe say at the same time and John nods before climbing over Arsinoe, his knee going straight in her gut, and jumping down. 

“Sorry,” John says.

“All good, kid,” she says, waving him off and he runs back out again. Arsinoe turns to Billy, confused. “Who exactly was that?” Billy kisses her cheek to say good morning before leaning his forehead against her shoulder.

“My nephew,” he says and she raises an eyebrow, “my oldest sister’s kid. She lives in Bevellet and John wasn’t a great traveller when he was younger so I don’t get to see her very often. But if Viv’s here then so is Henri and her husband so be prepared,” Arsinoe clicks her tongue in acknowledgement and rolls out of bed. From her side of the wardrobe she pulls a pretty forest green jumpsuit (something she had designed and sewed herself, much to Ruth’s shock and vague horror) and the ribbon that went with it to go in her hair before going into the ensuite to change.

When she comes out, Billy is buttoning his shirt up and Arsinoe grabs a necktie. She wraps it around his collar and uses it to pull him in for a quick kiss. 

“Compared to your mother, how scared should I be of your sisters?” Billy smiles.

“You’ll be fine,” he says, taking the tie from her hands and tying it before offering his hand and leading her out the door.

The kitchen was loud when they got downstairs and the sound only escalates when the people in the room notice the pair. Billy lets go of his hand to go hug two women who she gathers must be his older sisters and two men approach her, smiling.

“And you must be the newest addition to the family,” one of them says. He’s just taller than her (though that was saying a lot) and broad in the shoulders, with red hair and a truly impressive moustache. He’d be intimidating if he didn’t have such clear laugh lines around his eyes and mouth. “I’m John Moore Sr, Viv’s husband, and this is Edward Allen, Henrietta’s husband,” Edward was shorter than both of the two and lanky, with clear blue eyes and brown-gold hair. He seemed quieter than his brother-in-law but his presence wasn’t uncomfortable by any means. She stuck out her hand to them and shook with a smile.

“Arsinoe Queen, it’s a pleasure to meet you gentleman. I believe I met your son already John. He’s lovely, even if he may have bruised my ribs,” she says with a smile and John tilts his head.

“I’ll make sure he apologises for that, miss Queen, we wouldn’t want to scare off the only woman willing to keep Chatworth, after all,” Arsinoe’s eyebrows raised in surprise before she chuckled.

“Eh, he’s not so bad,” she says, making John laugh and turn to the rest of the group. 

“Chatworth, look after this one, she’s a gem,” he calls and Billy smiles and winks at Arsinoe before both have their attentions drawn by a kind feminine voice sitting at the table.

“Well, don’t keep her sequestered, let us meet her,” John nodded and gestured for Arsinoe to move past the two men, where she finally got a glimpse at the two people she hadn’t yet met. Both were women in their twenties who shared Billy’s warm features and she smiled at them, sitting on the chair Jane had vacated.

“Hi Arsinoe,” one of them said, taking her hand to shake. “I’m Henrietta, but most people just call me Henri or Hen,” she smiled with a grin she recognised on Billy’s face and she can’t help but smile back, matching her energy. 

“Hen, don’t try anything until she’s met all of us,” the woman sitting next to them says and Arsinoe turns to meet her. She leans forward to shake but is hindered but a very pregnant stomach. Arsinoe leans forward to meet her in the middle. “ I’m Viviana, Viv if you will. I think you met my son in the last half hour. Ignore any schemes himself or my sister try to drag you into,” Arsinoe laughs slightly.

“I only involve myself in schemes when I can’t be caught, don’t worry,” she hears Billy snort from behind her, “Billy may attest differently but ignore that,” Viviana smiles and pats her hands, letting them go in favour of continuing to eat her breakfast.

~ 3 years ~

“Welcome to this month’s meeting of The Chatworth Spouse Club,” John says, smiling as they clink their beer glasses together. Edward smiles.

“This month we finally can officially add a new member to the Club,” he says, turning to Arsinoe, who was tapping her new wedding band on her glass. “Welcome Arisnoe, to the best kept secret in the family,” he said, loud pride in his usually subdued voice.

“Thanks gents. Is this Club only for official spouses or will we be inviting Penworth into the fold soon,” she smiled with joy as they scoffed in unison.

“He wouldn’t be invited even if Jane was unfortunate enough to marry that wet sock,” John said, making his companions cough but not disagree. “Let’s just admit now that Penworth would spoil our nights away from spouses and children by being his usual self,” Arsinoe tilts her head in agreement. 

“I’m surprised how happy you are at the thought of being away from home, John,” Arsinoe says, sipping her drink.

“Oh no home is great,” Joh says with his usual wide smile, “It’s just with the new baby on the way and three already… well, here, it’s nice to talk to adults every now and then. Edward would agree, right, Ed?” John says and Edward nods.

“Yeah, Henri and the twins are handfuls all the time so breaks are important. But also I can’t wait to be home with them whenever I leave. Why didn’t either of you warn me how much you miss your kids when you’re away,” he sighs lovingly and Arsinoe raises her hands. 

“Don’t look at me, I don’t have children to speak on. Blame John,” Edward smiles at her before turning his smart eyes on John.

“When are you gonna get to doing that by the way, missy?” John deflects back to her and she shrugs with a smile.

“It’ll happen when it happens and besides, I’m never gonna complain that I don’t enjoy just Billy and me. Not that we haven’t had fun trying,” she admits with a small blush and John whistles with a laugh.

“Well, drink up folks so I can kick your asses at darts,” he says and Arsinoe drinks her beer, trying not to laugh. Neither of them had ever beaten Edward at darts. They probably never would if they were being honest with themselves, but she still had a blast trying.

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO SEE MORE OF THESE/SEE SOMETHING SPECIFIC/BE TAGGED TAG LIST: @poisonerrose @alwaysbored005

[crushedbyhyperbole]

Makin’ Whoopee

Summary:  The Sugardrops are in need of a pianist, and who better to fill the role than newly-minted 18yr old Bucky Barnes.  The charismatic front lady known as Sugar gives him an opportunity he can’t refuse, in exchange for something precious; his innocence.

Pairing:  Bucky Barnes x OFC

Word Count:  5.5k

Warnings:  18+.  Mentions of the state of racial relations synonymous with the 1940s, injury that’s speculated to be related to hate crime, plenty of flirting and smut at the end.

A/N:  One shot written for @the-omni-princess​‘s 1k follower writing challenge filling the prompt of Band AU.  Congrats on the milestone your majesty, and thank you for letting me take part :)  The character of Sugar is styled after Mae West with the looks of Rita Hayworth, Nick is based on comic book Nick Fury rather than Samuel.L. and the encore song is performed like Michelle Pfeiffer in The Fabulous Baker Boys.  Enjoy!

Cassidy’s Bar.  He’s only ever been in here once, when his cousin Nora had gotten married to that rat-faced asshole, Billy?  Bobby?  Barry? It was something ending in ‘y’, anyway, and that’s exactly what his Ma had said; why?

Turned out the why was babies and the who was Mr Rat-face and the when was, well, so far before the question of marriage that poor Nora was round on her wedding day.

They had the same seats at the bar, Bucky thinks, him and his uncle Tony.  One beer was all he was allowed the first time, but tonight, uncle Tony is on a mission.

“Happy Birthday, kid.” The older man clinks his glass against the one warming in Bucky’s grasp, a man’s amber fire to the boy’s weak beer. “Drink up and I’ll get you another before the band starts.”

Gulping the bitter draught down, Bucky feels it warm his guts, loosening knots inside him he didn’t even know were there.  It’s his third pint, and though he’s had beer at home, he’s never had more than one in a bar where the dim lights and choking smoke are making him feel woozier than the drink.  He’s never felt like one of the men and never thought of himself as one, not even now.

Whoops and whistles. That’s how you know there’s a dame on the stage.  She’s pretty, too, Bucky thinks, watching her slink over to the manager in a dress made of green satin and what looks like liquid suns dripping from her shoulders.  It’s much too classy for a place like this and Bucky wonders if she’s some Hollywood starlet fallen from grace with her auburn waves and lips as red as victory.

Stunning.  He’s changed his mind, there’s nothing pretty about her.  She’s sexy as sin and all the men know it, hell, even she knows it.

Tony is already pushing another drink into his hand as he leads Bucky to a table by the stage, a smaller glass that tinkles as he walks.  One sip and Bucky thinks the beer is better, this stuff burns as it evaporates off his tongue.

“Looks like we got ourselves a problem.”  The starlets voice is smooth and sultry, if a little husky.  “Sammy can’t play.  It’s his hand, see.”

Her dark-skinned companion is nursing a busted hand that looks far worse than just bloodied knuckles from a fight.  If Bucky didn’t know better he’d have said the man met with a car door, a hammer, or a vicious bootheel; integrated bands are something of a controversy, hell, integrated anything is.

“Great, just great!” The bar manager groans.  “So what am I supposed to do about it?  Can’t you do without him, sugar lips?”  The bar manager is a beast of a man; jaw like a tank and shoulders to match, buzz-cut that’s a remnant from military service and an eye-patch that lends nothing but intimidation to his demeanour.

“Gee, I dunno, Nick!” One hand fists against the sassy cock of her hip, she lets rip with the sarcasm.  “Can a piano do without its pianist?”

Nick scoffs wordlessly, chewing the end of his cigar.

“A girl needs a good ivory pounder.”  She says with a wink, her tone suggestive enough to make Nick’s ears turn red. “Sam’s my best guy.”

“He ain’t poundin’ nuthin’ for a while.”

“More’s the pity.” She sidles up to him seductively, there is nothing subtle about her play, even Bucky can see she’s trying to manipulate the man.  “You got any hidden talent around here you been keepin’ from me?”

In the moments between her wink and the soft glide of her hand down the front of his shirt, Nick’s face turns pink, then red, and he’s choking on smoke.

“Help a girl out?”  A tempting pout and the flutter of eyelashes punctuate her request.

“I’ll ask around.”  He says with a tight smile as the starlet turns with a sway of her hip and sashays away.

The gents in the lounge are rowdy now, after catching a glimpse of the much-anticipated leading lady. The call for attention is barely heard but word passes between the tables that they’re asking for a pianist.

“You should get yourself up there.”  Uncle Tony nudges Bucky with his elbow, an almost proud look on his face.

“Play piano in front of all these people?”  Bucky has never been the nervous type, but he is now.  He’s only ever played the piano for the family at home, and the teachers and pupils at the music school.

“Sure, kid!”  Tony claps him on the shoulder.  “You’re as good as any of ‘em.”

“I dunno, uncle Tony.” Bucky sinks down in his seat, almost sensing what’s coming next.

“Hey!”  Tony is on his feet, waving to the hefty bar manager. “I got a pianist!”

There’s laughter all around, because Tony sounds like he just said ��penis’, and that makes Bucky even more mortified when Nick is suddenly stood in front of them.

“You play?”  Nick is gruff and down to business.

“My nephew.”  Tony hits Bucky on the arm with the back of his hand, a gesture that says ‘sit up straight’.

“How old are you, kid?” Narrowed eyes scrutinise, and Bucky blanches.  He’s old enough to be in here but he feels so out of place he still doubts he belongs.

“Eighteen today, sir.” Bucky steels himself.  He’s not going to be this nervous kid.  He’s Bucky Barnes, confident and charming, and most definitely not intimidated by a piano, a beautiful redhead and a burly bar manager (eye-patch or not).  At least that’s who he wants to be.

“And you play?”

Bucky nods.

“Come with me.”

Tony is stuffing the tumbler into his hand again and pushing him out of his seat towards the stage with a cheer.  There’s a bit of shuffling as Bucky finds his stride.  Chairs scrape out of the way as he passes and it feels like he’s walking the plank; shark infested waters are all around him, the men sneer a little at the sight of him, just a boy, being lead backstage where the starlet and her band are getting ready.

Backstage isn’t as glamourous as Bucky thought it would be.  The reception room is dingy and cramped, merely a glorified store room compared to the plush furnishings and flattering lighting that he imagined. Eight sets of eyes turn to stare at him as he enters behind the mountainous Nick.  He’s intimidated and starting to sweat but that’s the least of his worries when a swathe of red hair and green satin is invading his personal space.

She looks him up and down with a sly smirk.

“I know I like ‘em young, but I’m not one for wet nursing.”  It’s salacious, the tone she uses, almost like she’s purposefully trying to ruffle feathers.

“He’s not for your boudoir, Sugar, he’s for the piano.”

“Oh, why not?”  She winks subtly, pulling her lips into a playful smile.  “A man in the boudoir is worth two on the street.”

“Sugar…”  Another redhead chastises.  She’s older but there’s a resemblance, sisters, maybe cousins.

“Oh, alright, spoil my fun.” Sugar plucks the drink from Bucky’s hand, fingertips brushing lightly against him leaving a trail of goosebumps coursing up his arm.  Her eyes never leave his as she lifts the glass to her painted lips and sips.  “I always get what I want, eventually.”

She’s turning away from him and his glass is back in his hand like it never left, save for the scarlet red print that perfectly resembles the fullness of her lower lip. Bucky swallows.  She’s a dangerous woman and he knows she can chew him up and spit him out in ruins, but hell if he’s not willing to let her do it.

“Sam’s the name.”  The dark-skinned fellow interrupts, introducing himself and offering his uninjured hand to shake.  His injuries are hidden by off-white crepe and gauze now, out of sight out of mind for the rest of the band.

“James.”  Bucky clears his throat.  “James Barnes.  But my friend’s call me Bucky.”

“You read music, James Barnes?”  ‘Sugar’ levels a torturously flirtatious glance over her bejewelled shoulder. Everything about her screams seduction and sexuality; she’s unashamedly feminine but predatory like no woman he’s ever seen.

“Yes, ma’am.  I do.”  Bucky battles his nerves.  “And I can play by heart.”

Sugar turns, a slow blink fanning her long lashes against her rosy cheek before she’s dragging her eyes up his body.  “Show me.”

In the corner of the room is a busted upright piano that is much in need of repair.  It’s older than his grandpa’s but the keys are clean and it looks to work.

“You want me to play here?” He should have known there would be an audition.

“Scared to show us the goods, kid?”  And older gentleman with dark curly hair shifts in his seat, his hands are large and his fingers thick and calloused.  He isn’t stocky but he isn’t a beanpole either, and he’s got a nervous tick, just below his right eye which tells Bucky the man has a temper.

“Bruce is right.” Sugar purred, leaning closer.  “An ounce of performance is worth pounds of promise.”  Moist pinkness pokes playfully at the corner of her perfectly pained mouth, the teasing tip of her tongue then sweeps her upper lip deliciously.

Bucky jumps into action, if only to distance himself from the sight and scent of the woman who seems hell bend on turning him into a mess of jangling nerves and tight trousers.

The stool is hard but the perfect height.  Bucky runs his fingers over the keys, rippling out scales to test the instrument’s tuning.  His music school diploma kicking in as he opens the booklet of sheet music at the first page.

It’s a tense moment as he starts to play, finding that some of the music has been amended in a chicken-scratch scrawl, little finesses added here and there and a different tempo, but Bucky knows the song.  He bangs out Puttin’ on the Ritz, relaxing into the music as a tall mousy-blonde man in his late twenties, sits by the piano and taps out a percussion rhythm on the wood, and the older redhead starts to sing along.  Her voice is quite lovely, Bucky thinks.

Sam nods approvingly but Sugar isn’t completely convinced.

“Play me something you think I’ll like.”  She says. “From the heart.”  The last words are tainted with a sigh.

Bucky thinks he knows the perfect song.  It’s more of a joke than anything, the reason it pops into his head is purely because of her salacious innuendos.  It starts off a little jerky, as he plays some of the string and trumpet parts on the piano but when the tune fully kicks in everyone is laughing, even Sugar is grinning.  The blonde picks up the beat, tapping on his legs and the side of the piano, curly-haired Bruce is humming and boom’ping in time as a bass, and a tiny blonde kid he’d never seen plays a mock trumpet.

When Sugar starts to sing ‘Makin’ Whoopee’, it’s somethin’ else.  The cadence of her voice is just like she is, rich, velvety and incredibly seductive.  She comes to sit on the stool next to Bucky, swaying and snapping her fingers along with the music.  As far as impromptu jams go it wasn’t half bad, and the mood is suddenly lighter when the song is done.

“Well, aren’t you full of surprises, James Barnes.”  Sugar adjusts a piece of his hair that has fallen out of his smoothly combed do.

“It’s just Bucky.”  He sighs bashfully, almost melting at her proximity.  Red lacquered nails and glistening red lips, soft cascading waves of copper leading his eyes down from her face to the sweetheart line of her dress and a scandalously deep cleavage he has no business staring at.

Suddenly he’s being pulled to his feet and introduced to the rest of the band.  Peter is the percussionist, he’s easy-going and a bit of a joker.  The little guy is Steve, he’s the trumpet player but, like Bucky, he can play a few instruments, just not the piano.  Bruce plays the double bass.  The older redhead is Natasha, she’s on backing vocals with another redhead called Wanda and yet another redhead called Gamora.  Bucky notices that Wanda and Gamora aren’t natural redheads but they all fit together so well it’s hard to notice from afar.

The lounge looks completely different from where he’s stood at the edge of the stage behind a dusty red curtain.  He can see uncle Tony drinking a pint and laughing with a guy at the adjacent table, no doubt talking about how proud he is of his nephew, god knows his daughter is a disappointment; poor Nora who got pregnant before she was married.

Bucky necks his drink. The ice has already melted but it does little to quench the burn of the whiskey, still, liquid courage eh?

Soon he’s being ushered out onto the stage with the rest of the band.  There’s a light smattering of applause and a huge cheer from uncle Tony as Bucky takes his seat at the grand piano.  Sam is there with songbooks and a list of tunes they’re going to play tonight.

“Any of these you don’t know?”  Sam hands him the paper and it shakes in Bucky’s fingers.

They’re all covers, of course, a small band can’t put out original songs in a lounge like this and earn a living.  They’re all fairly recent songs, too, keeping up with current trends.  Bucky knows them all well enough to play them by heart, but Sam likes to make notes on the sheet music to tweak the songs a little more to fit their ensemble.

Bucky scans down the list, smiling when he sees songs like Daddy, Blue Champagne, and Strange Fruit. He can imagine Sugar singing them, how wonderfully they will work with her voice.

“I think so.”  Bucky nods, confidence building through the panic because he knows he can do this.

Another glass of whiskey is set atop the piano for him and Sam is leaving with a reassuring pat on the shoulder, leaving him to stare at the crowds in the lounge, leaving him to the adrenaline and the nausea in his guts.

Suddenly there are whistles and whoops, that’s how you know the dames have hit the stage.  The three backing singers stroll on, waving and smiling brightly.  Bucky is surprised to see Wanda carrying a fiddle; she’s like him and little Steve, multi-talented.

And there’s Sugar.  He sees her before she’s clear of the side curtain.  She’s all confident strides, swaying hips and a non-too-subtle wobble at the sweetheart bodice of her dress.  He barely notices the crowd now all he can hear is the frantic thrum of his pulse whooshing in his ears.  His mouth goes dry as she makes eye contact with him and he feels as though she’s going to walk right past the microphone, right up to him, and show him what those smirking red lips can do.  

But she doesn’t, and her attention is no longer on him but on the crowd.

“Well, hello there Cassidy’s!  We are The Sugardrops!”  Christ she’s just as seductive when she addresses the whole room.  “My, my we’ve got some handsome gentlemen out there tonight, wouldn’t you agree ladies?”  She’s playing up to her girls and to the crowd.  “Tonight, for your entertainment pleasure we’re going to perform a few numbers.”

“YOU CAN PERFORM ON MY LAP, IF YOU’D LIKE!”  A drunken jeer erupts from the crowd, already the men are worked up.

Bucky glances from the dishevelled heckler to Sugar who is giving her most amused smile.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve been in more laps than a napkin.”  She shifts her weight, popping her hip to the side.  “Yours ain’t nothing special.”

Laughter drowns out the spluttering heckler who is suddenly shoved into his seat by burly Nick, with the warning ‘behave yourself or get out’.

She’s incredible. Bucky thinks.  So confident and sassy.  He’s never seen a woman like her in his whole life.  She’s larger than life, and more alluring than a precious stone.

She clears her throat, pinning him with a stare.

Jumping to action for the second time at her request, he poises himself and waits for the trumpet to start the first song; Nice Work if You Can Get it.

Steve is good, he’s got good lungs for a scrawny kid and he blasts out an intro that’s picked up by Bruce on the double bass.  Then Bucky is joining in and Peter with the subtle snare and high-hat setting a swinging rhythm.  Sugar and the girls croon out the lyrics and Bucky finds himself joining in, bouncing on his stool with the music.

Before he knows it the song is done and he’s barely looked at the music sheet.  It all feels so natural to him, like he’s meant to be here with these people, on this stage, playing his heart out.  It’s been a while since he felt any love for music other than something to dance to, with a girl on his arm, maybe one who’ll let him kiss her at the end of the night, maybe one who’ll let him stroke his hand up to the top of her stockings.

Applause rings out and he can hear uncle Tony cheering.  There’s an exchanged grin and a proud nod from the elder man, tears in his eyes like he’s looking at his own son.  Of course, Tony only had daughters, so Bucky was special to him; a fellow man in the family.

Sugar is peppy as she sings, almost prancing around the stage, energised by the folks who are dancing on the dancefloor in front of the stage.

Hey, listen to my story, ‘bout a gal named Daisy Mae Lazy Daisy Mae Her disposition, is rather sweet and charming At times alarming, so they say

Glass empty and another replaces it, sitting in the same condensation ring that marks its predecessor; Bucky has lost count of the drinks as the songs have flown by.  The swell of emotion in his chest as he pounds or tinkles the ivories as desired, it’s almost euphoric.  So much so, he doesn’t notice Sugar sashaying his way as she sings.

She has a man who’s tall-dark-handsome, large and strong To whom she used to sing this song

She drags her fingertips up his arm as she sings, over his shoulder, neck and into his hair.  Then she spins, resting her back on his, dipping to her haunches and arching her back, earning whistles from the crown, a vicious blush from Bucky and a few fumbled notes of the tune.

Hey, Daddy, I want a diamond ring, bracelets, everything Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Hey, Daddy, gee, don’t I look swell in sables? Clothes with Paris labels? Daddy, you oughta get the best for me

Bucky is already lost in the sway of her hips and the glistening red of her lips.  She’s singing about champagne and caviar but all he hears are the breathy moments in between the verses where she’s almost gasping for breath.

He can’t remember how many whiskey’s he’s had but he knows now it’s too many.  His skin burns and he needs air but all there is, is the rhythm of the music, the feel of the ivory under the pads of his fingers and a tightness in his groin that’s been building since she first levelled her glittering eyes at him.

Now she’s dancing around him, touching him, and teasing him with her sensuality, he’s already gone. He just prays the music comes out fine.

“You got one more song in you, sweetheart?”  Sugar is leaning over him, her lips brush the shell of his ear and her perfume permeates down into his lungs, heady and so perfect.  She’s got bare shoulders now, the bejewelled bolero jacket that was part of her dress now adorns the top of the piano with several empty glasses.

“One more song?”  He blinks up and her and she grins, stroking his face gently.  The crowd are calling for an encore and Sugar is thriving on their attention.

“Just one more.”  She assures him.  “For me?”

She doesn’t need to ask, he’s already caught in her snare, captivated by the desire in her voice and the heat in her gaze.  He doesn’t know if it’s real, but he doesn’t care.  He’s never been wanted like this by any woman, let alone one as gorgeous as her, and he’s never been so desperate to give a woman what she so clearly craves.

The rest of the band have gone back stage and it’s just the two of them out under the lights.  Bucky feels so nervous all of a sudden he could lose his dinner but when Sugar climbs up on top of the piano, legs curled to the side, he’s more concerned with avoiding the view right up her legs.

Bucky is about to ask, but when she turns to him and winks, he knows what song.

Tinkling the keys, he delves into a soft and seductive jazz melody that’s so perfect for her it’s like her soul is pouring out into the air.  Her grin is astonishing it lights her face up, stripping years off her like she’s closer to his age now instead of in her thirties.

Then she’s melting the words so they come out coy and teasing, and she’s flirting with her whole body; just enough leg, just enough cleavage, a perfectly-timed toss of her stunning red hair, and every time she says the words ‘makin’ whoopee’ his johnson twitches in his pants.  But she’s not doing it for him, she’s doing it for them, or she’s doing it for her, it really doesn’t matter who, he thinks.  She’s right there in front of him and it’s his music she’s moving to, his fingers making the notes that set her on fire, it’s him who she looks back towards and winks at subtly.

Later it’s him who she’s taking by the hand and it’s him whose lips are trailing down her neck. It’s him who is unzipping her dress and trailing his hands over her hips as he pushes the fabric to the floor.  He doesn’t know how he got here but he isn’t complaining, not one bit.

She’s a sight to behold. Her lips are swollen and smeared red where he’s messed her lipstick, and she’s panting as she strips him of his shirt. Once he’s down to his shorts, erection tenting the front, she lifts his hands to her breasts where the stiff fabric of a strapless number presses against his palms.  He stalls out, suddenly not sure what to do.  He’s never gone this far with a girl before, let alone a woman like her.

Her smirk is beguiling as she shoves him backward into a worn, ochre-coloured armchair.  His panic is momentary and he settles, sat forward, watching as she lifts her leg and with toes pressed to his chest, she pushes him back against the cushions.

The teasing way she unhooks her sheer stockings has a wet patch forming in the front of his shorts, the weeping tip of his johnson is eager.  When her legs are bare she turns, presenting him with her clothed bottom. Then she bends, oh so slowly. Dragging her knickers down, exposing herself to him.

She mustn’t know he’s untested in the boudoir (as burly Nick put it earlier in the night), or she wouldn’t be teasing him so much.  His brain is spouting words from the good book, somewhere in the depths; he’s never been one to listen but when they sound like his Ma he can’t help it.  Lead us not into temptation.

“Temptation?”  Sugar chuckles. Had he said that aloud?  “Why resist it?  There’ll always be more.”  She tosses her knickers at him and steps forward.

Straddling his lap she places his hands on her hips as she rolls her body, unclothed womanhood dragging against the hardness in his shorts.  Her bra is unhooked at the back and her perfect breasts spill forward in front of his ogling eyes.

“Touch me.”  She moans softly, spurring him into action.

Kissing his way down her neck and into the valley between her gloriously large breasts, he cups her in both hands and squeezes, rubbing his palms over her nipples until they’re hard. She guides him carefully, showing him how to pinch and play with them, not too roughly but just firmly enough to have her gasping.

“I’ve never…”  He swallows hard.  Bucky Barnes has a reputation as a man all the ladies swoon after, but he’s no match for a woman of her experience.

“I know.”  She moves against him, reaching down until her fingers reach her sex, and she’s stroking herself leisurely.  “I’ve known plenty of men who didn’t know how to please a woman.” She moans, sliding her fingers fully inside herself as Bucky watches, astonished.  “I’ve always found the time to teach every single one of them.”

She lifts her fingers to his mouth and he opens instinctively, feeling the salty sweet slide of her over his tongue.  Lips close around her and he’s drinking her taste down with a groan.  He wants to taste her again so he reaches down, strokes his fingers through the wet heat of her core, not brave enough to push them inside as she had, not yet anyway.  He smears her arousal across her nipple and brings it to his mouth, sucking and nibbling. Just like with his fingers, there’s a balance to be found in the playful bite, firm suck and soothing lick of his mouth.

Soon, Sugar is practically singing for him.  All her sassy flirtations are gone and she’s telling him what she wants.  Her nipples and lips are swollen from his attention and the front of his shorts are soaked with both his and her arousal.  The skin of her neck and chest is flushed red as she grinds against the finger he’s got buried in her womanhood.  The beckoning motion she’d shown him is making his hand ache but he’s too wrapped up in the beauty of her to care.  He’s never seen a woman orgasm before, let alone been the cause. He’s strung tight, excited beyond belief and she hasn’t even touched him yet.

Then he feels it; a tightening of the flesh around his middle finger.  She’s quivering with need, working so hard toward the release she’s desperate for.  It seems to go on forever, like she’s hanging on to the pleasure for grim death, but it’s just not enough.

Feeling bold he pulls back and gives her a second finger, pushing deeper inside her until he can feel the soft spot he was rubbing before.  Digging his fingers in harder, he braces his thumb against the hooded nubbin beneath the whispy red of her pubic hair, and squeezes.

Her wail almost stops him in his tracks but the look on her face compels him to act.  Harder this time he pulls his fingers against her, milking that sweet spot inside until he can feel the spasms start.  Her breathing is erratic and she’s gyrating in his lap, shaking and moaning as her body spasms around his hand.  It’s powerful, the way her muscles work and even when they start to die down, Bucky carries on.

“Too much.”  She stills his hand with her own.  She looks so beautiful, all flushed and satisfied. He wants her, wants to be in her, to feel with his prick what he felt with his fingers.

His mouth is on hers as he thrusts his hands under her thighs and stands.  She squeals and clings to him a moment before she realises what’s happening.  He’s about to deposit her on the floor of her dressing room when she halts him.

Bucky has never seen a condom before.  He’s heard about them; standard issue for the army to stop the soldiers from catching venereal disease, and to stop them from fathering children in every city they visit. Sugar winks as she rolls the rubber down his erection.  It feels strange and tight against his skin, and through it her hand feels less pleasurable but he moans nonetheless.

A multi-coloured crochet blanket is put down with a pillow from the armchair, and she lies back with her legs spread for him.  The reddened petals of her flower are on display and Bucky feels the urge to taste her. Of course she’s sweet, and slightly musky but less salty than when he tasted from her fingers.  Her legs twitch each time he licks past the hooded nubbin above her entrance, and he fancies that that’s the way he’s going to make her orgasm again.

And he does just that, with her hands buried in his hair and his fingers deep in her once more, pulling gently this time, he kisses and licks her until she’s shaking and moaning for him.

“I like a man who pays attention.”  She smirks as he stares up at her with a look that’s no doubt revering.  “I like a man who makes me scream even better.”

With her hand on his shoulder, she urges him forward until he’s hovering over her, afraid to lay his weight on her.  It’s with a throaty giggle that she wraps her thighs around his hips and pulls him down, reaching between them to place the tip of his throbbing prick against her heat.

“Don’t keep a girl waiting.” She slaps his bare butt cheek.  “I might go find what I need elsewhere.”

With a determined grunt, Bucky pushes into her, pushes against the resistance of her flesh, pushes into the pleasure that shoots down his prick and tightens something low between his hips.  It feels so much different than touching himself, a less intense pleasure but there’s more of it, singing to the nerves in his abdomen and all the way up into his chest.

Sugar rolls her hips, urging him to move, and with her hands on his hips and her feet hooked under his buttocks she guides his movement, drawing from him smooth deep thrusts that hit all of the right spots for her and have him seeing stars before too long.

“I can’t… keep this… up.” He grunts, slightly ashamed that he can’t last.

“It’s alright, sweetheart.” She arches her back and sighs. “I’m close.  Keep going.”

Bucky is panting heavily as the pleasure overwhelms him.  Sugar is writhing and moaning beneath him and he can feel her muscles around him start to quake.

She’s going to climax, he thinks with joy.  She’s going to climax while I’m inside her.

That’s it for him, the pulsing pleasure coursing down his spine, all around his prick and tingling over his scalp – it’s amazing.  He spills into the condom but continues to thrust into her until she’s spent.  Then and only then does he collapse forward with a disbelieving chuckle.

“This is the first time I ever known a woman like you.”  He kisses her lips but she’s already turning away, rolling him off her to get some air.

“If I have my say, it won’t be the last.”  She winks but there’s no gleam in her eye.  She lights a cigarette and falls back onto that god-awful ochre chair.

“I don’t know if I should thank you or worship you.”  Bucky notices that she seems diminished somehow, like her light has gone.

“I wouldn’t say no to both.” She’s looking up, not at him, as she blows smoke up to the ceiling.  “Are you free tomorrow night?”

“For you, yeah.”  He’s coming across eager but he doesn’t care. A lot of the effects of the whiskey are fading and he knows what he’s doing.  He wants to see her again, to feel her again.

“What about the night after that?”

“Yes.”  The condom comes free with a dull twang.

“And the one after that?”

“Sure.”  He’s pulling on his shorts.

“Next week?

“Absolutely.”  Bucky kneels in front of that horrific chair.

“Next month?”  She asks, and he knows better than to think she wants a relationship. Someone like her could never be tied down.

“I’m free whenever you want me.”  He flashes her his most charming and cheeky smile.

Her laugh is stifled behind that coy smirk she favours as she swings the leg that’s cocked over the arm of the chair.  Her naked breasts and her womanhood are unashamedly and fully on display.  Hell, if it didn’t send tingles of desire down into his gut again.

“Oh, I want your fingers alright.”

“Just my fingers?”  He flirts back.

“For the purposes of the contract, yeah sweetheart, just your fingers.”  The smoke from a long drag is blown in his direction.  “The rest can be our little secret.”

“Contract?”  Bucky balks, confusion sending a jolt to his chest.

“Yeah, sweetheart.” The gleam is back in her eyes, and her sultry smile teases the corners of her plush mouth once more.  “Welcome to The Sugardrops, James Barnes.”

[karak9]

Another stupid long post about how I don't know my own fucking gender

This is honestly just copied and pasted from a yt comment I made on an older vid and I figured I'd share it here bc tumblr loves this shit I guess lol. God damn I've been questioning my gender for so long and ik rn im prob not still in the best position to be thinking about deep life shit like where I am mentally and im dealing with a lot in my life and also very insecure about potentially being trans bc a lot of my friends don't seem like they would be very accepting and my bf is only really into girls. I asked him how he would feel if I was nonbinary or looked like a boy and he just said he wasn't totally sure but he's only attracted to girls :c he's the sweetest bf in existence and im honestly so afraid of losing him, so aside from obviously not wanting to deal with all the other trans shit, I definitely hope im not trans bc I don't wanna lose him. Anyways, ill start with my childhood I guess. I was always super tomboyish. My older sisters (im the youngest sibling btw) were always p tomboyish so maybe I kinda got it from them but I kinda felt like I was more tomboyish than them? I felt like I was the most boyish girl I knew, like even meeting other tomboy girls in elementary school I felt like I couldn't really relate to them or like they couldnt relate to me enough idk. I also remember once making up a song about being like so tomboyish that I was basically a boy or something along those lines and sang it to my best friend at the time who I copied like all the fkin time (it honestly wasnt healthy lmao I didn't have good parents, also I think I started making up songs bc she did that and I wanted to like impress her), but she thought it was stupid and weird so I just forgot about it and moved on. I was embarrassed to even enjoy playing with dolls or play dress up games online and was determined to play masculine games like runescape (even tho I ended up doing girly shit in runescape anyways lmao) and considered myself one of the guys. In 5th grade when I started needing to wear a bra I absolutely didn't want to, tho some girls in my class thought it was weird I didn't wear a bra when they found out and that made me more insecure about it, but since then I've p much only worn sports bras. I have bought some more normal bras bc I wanted to look attractive in them for my SO or whatever but I still highly prefer my sports bras and can't stand wearing the other ones unless I have to bc my sports bras aren't clean lmfao. I always hated talking about genitalia and breasts n shit but that could just be bc of how I was raised and how my family was always so strict and such radical Christians and anything sex related was a sin, idk if its dysphoria or not. I've never rlly liked my chest and hated showing cleavage like so god damn much and still do but maybe that's the same thing or maybe I just want smaller boobs and that's it idk??? Like I'd want to appear to have a completely flat chest at least, idk if I'd want to actually like have a guy chest or not? Also huge issue with ppl seeing me naked or touching my boobs but again idk if that's gender related or just a normal issue I have. Tho I had a friend in high school (a girl, a very weird lewd girl) who would occasionally grope my chest randomly and it wasn't a huge issue but kinda made me uncomfortable and more aware of my chest. I really like when I wear big hoodies or when I lean over so my shirt kinda poofs out and it looks like I have a flat chest underneath. Though im not super uncomfortable with my boobs, like normally ill want nothing to do with them but I don't mind my SO touching them especially if they're really into it. I wouldn't say im rlly dysphoric about between my legs either, like yeah I think its weird and I hate monthlies and stuff but I think that's normal. I think if i woke up one day and had a dick I would be fine with it, I'd prob even enjoy it tbh lmao. I once had a dream that i was, well, a male dog like,,, ya know, with a female dog, and not to sound weird af (hey we were both dogs ok) but I think i kinda enjoyed it? I don't really remember any other dreams where I remember actually having a dick or feeling it but I've had several dreams as a male person, but p much all of them were like, I was seeing through a character's eyes or smth, not really that I was a guy, so idk if that's normal. I have the same dreams about being other girl characters, I'd say its split about 50/50. Because of this game community im in, a lot of ppl assume im a guy, and a lot of people still think im a guy and I haven't really bothered to correct them but idk if I find it more enjoyable bc its funny or if I enjoy not being referred to as female for once. I'll admit I feel most comfortable referred to as they/them, like without a doubt, if I could go by only 1 set of pronouns for the rest of my life it would be they/them. But ik that's not enough to call myself trans. I definitely wouldn't want to be 100% male. Like if I imagine myself as a grown man vs a grown woman id prob choose to be a woman. I don't like my voice but I think that's mostly just bc I sound 10 years younger than I actually am, and wouldn't really want a deep/masculine voice. Like a "tomboy" voice would be fine if that makes sense? I don't want facial hair or want to have a masculine body, I like that I have curves and soft skin and small hands. Personally I like my hair long bc its soft and people love it, but sometimes I kinda wish I had short hair and could pass as a boy. Like I'd wanna be a typical cute kpop boy ngl lmfao. I like the whole cute androgynous/feminine boy look and wish I could pull it off. Tho I also like really girly things sometimes and am okay being seen as a girl, i just want to be cute and attractive. Ik whether im trans or not I like being a mix of feminine and masculine, tho I admit in the past I've been kinda insecure bc I used to be super sure I was nb and thought me liking girly things and wanting to still havd long hair and wear girly clothes made me seem like "not trans enough" or whatever. But i guess here I am questioning myself again anyways. If I am nb, it sucks that ill never really be able to be openly myself and all but I've accepted by now that I kinda have to pick a binary and choose what I want to be seen as for the rest of my life, and im ok with being female. There are some things I dont like about my body whether they're really gender related or not but I can't afford to transition and wouldn't like most of the effects of T and am afraid of surgery and not sure I want top surgery enough to ever get it anyways, but I think if we lived in a perfect world and I could magically change my body at will and I wasnt afraid of judgment or being unattractive or whatever, I'd probably want to look androgynous and itd be cool to be able to change my genitalia at will lmao. If I had to choose 1 genitalia over the over I honestly have no idea what I'd choose but I have no desire to ever get bottom surgery, at the same time tho I honestly wanna someday get surgery or w/e to never be able to get pregnant. I just could not handle pregnancy or giving birth and I don't even like babies and breast feeding sounds awful so if I ever have kids they will be adopted 100% and most likely be older and like not newborn babies lmfao, babies are honestly so weird to me and they stink and cry and they're so fragile and im so afraid of like dropping them when I hold them lmao. But I like my nieces and nephews and I like being the cool aunt (is there a gender neutral version of aunt/uncle?) who lets them use my art supplies and helps them do fun stuff even if I get tired of them sometimes lol. Idk if that's gender related either but yeah I guess. This if kind of a more recent thing but I often say I'd make a great bf kinda as a joke bc of how I am in relationships like being the stereotypical sweet bf type who makes things for their partner a lot and wants to be their knight in shining armor and their protector and all that, but again prob not rlly trans related lmao just thought I'd throw that out there I guess. So when I was 17 was when I really started getting into trans stuff, prior to that I mostly just learned from my parents that trans ppl were "against god" and all that bs, and eventually started realizing lgbt+ isn't as bad as my family said and later realized I was bi. But anyways I met an agender person online when i was 17ish and I'd never heard it before and thought it was really interesting and asked them how you know you're agender bc after hearing their explanation of it i thought it described how I felt, but ofc they weren't transmed and just described it as being like a deep feeling or whatever and since then i started calling myself agender (and switched between a few labels but basically nonbinary) until my transmed friend told me I was ridiculous and that I wasn't trans, and honestly he was a huge dick but im a huge pushover lmao and I thought well he's trans so he must know what he's talking about, and though I felt discouraged about it I stopped calling myself nonbinary. Then I began questioning it again after not too long and basically since then I've been questioning my gender off and on. I'm now 22 and god I fucking hope im cis but also I feel like a part of me doesn't want to be cis if that makes sense?? Idk if that's because I don't like being a girl for some weird deep reason I don't know about despite being pretty sure I've gotten a lot of my feelings and their reasons behind them figured out, or if it's because I am trans and dont want to force myself to pretend im a girl 100% forever. At the very least, whatever the fuck my gender is, I want to continue going by they\them wherever I can and pretending to be a boy to strangers online and I'd love to cosplay male characters and bind and occasionally just dress masculine for the hell of it and probably wear sports bras for the rest of my life. I feel like in a way I cang possibly be trans because I can live with all of those things and be fairly comfortable still being seen as female for the rest of my life. But idk, I have bpd and other mental shit so sometimes im not great with my feelings (tho I do try really hard to identify all of my feelings/emotions and stuff) but at the same time bpd can cause weird identity shit so maybe its just a weird mix of a bunch of crap and im not actually trans but just weird and tomboyish enough to question my gender for 5 years and still be unsure. Also I know a lot of ppl suggest talking to a therapist/psychologist/whatever professional and trust me I would love to but I can't currently and am unsure when ill be able to bc they're expensive and I live in the middle of fucking nowhere so finding a decent therapist around where I live rn is going to be very difficult. Also, I have fucking crippling social anxiety lmao like I'd be so afraid to open up about this stuff even to a professional. So if anyone could suggest anything online that could help that would be amazing

[neverisalongtime-ja-blog]

Chapter 40: Just ride

Her I am with another chapter! I never going to stop thanking all for all the support and the feedback! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!

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-          Josh is out of control! How fucking dare he! – Anastasia was telling Mandy while both were swimming at Anastasia’s house pool.

-          I have to admit that I wasn’t team Richard before but now I totally support him – Mandy answered lying on a float with the shape of a sea shell – Josh is acting like a baby, so immature. He wants to have it all, he wants Lauren and he wants you but he didn’t see Richard coming.

-          You should have seen him begging me not to leave him and to be patient with him, but I’m done – Anastasia said with anger – I honestly didn’t see Richard coming either but everything happens for a reason.

-          He is so sweet – Mandy said.

-          And dreamy – Anastasia said.

-          And fun.

-          And talented.

-          And easy to talk to.

-          And easy to be around.

-          And so handsome.

-          And so perfect – Both friends looked at each other and laughed – This is exactly like when we were sixteen – Anastasia said – It’s so crazy we’re talking about the same guy.

-          I never would have thought Richard Austin would fall for you.

-          He hasn’t fallen for me.

-          An… the way he put his hand around your waist when you were watching the Peppers, and the way you two sang and looked at each other at the show. At Glasto he looked at you with such lovely eyes. He is incredible but, for now, I’m going to abstain from telling you what to do because I told you to let Josh into your heart and that didn’t go well at all. I’m sorry for that.

-          You don’t have to apologize, neither one of us would’ve thought that Josh would do such things. – Mandy nodded at her friend’s words.

-          Have you talked to him? To Richard?

-          He texts me or calls me every day. He is going to be in Los Angeles next week so maybe we’ll go out or something. He actually has a show at the Fonda Theater, we should go!

-          That would be amazing.

Richard was truly amazing to Anastasia, and after all her love-life-craziness in the past years, it was nice for her to have someone solid around. Richard was so sure of himself and so sure of what he wanted. As he told her, he was going to be in Los Angeles for about a week for the Fonda show and some promotion for the new record, so Anastasia thought it would be cool to invite him for dinner at her place. She told him she would “cook” for him, but what she actually meant was she would buy food to make him think she cooked it.

Richard arrived at An’s house wearing a green tee shirt and a jean jacket with the sleeves rolled up and holding a bottle of champagne.

-          You cooking for me is so special that I thought champagne would be perfect – He said at the door with half a smile.

-          It goes perfectly with the seafood I made – Anastasia laughed because she didn’t cook any of it. She was wearing a jean pinafore dress with high-heeled green velvet sandals and her hair tied up in a ponytail.

-          Your house is beautiful – He said looking and the backyard and the skyline of the city.

-          Thank you – Anastasia said looking at his face, he had a Marlon Brandon kind of aura – Come take a seat, the table’s set and the food is ready.

She decided to go with all kind of seafood, crab, oysters, lobster and more. The food was delicious and the conversation with Richard was easy, intelligent and nice as usual. She learned that Richard’s parents were Vegas natives and he was born and raised there too, his dad use to be a doorman at the Flamingo and his mom use to be a waitress at the same hotel and they met there. He also had two older sisters so he grew up in a very feminine environment; he had one niece and two nephews. His son’s name was Elijah and he was nine years old. He met his ex-wife in high school so he hadn’t been with a lot of women during his life, “Maybe two”, he said.

Growing up in Las Vegas was fun because of the culture, he did a lot of crazy stuff as a teenager, of course, but the glamour and the lights and all the big shows always had his attention and he loved that. His band got together because all the members were neighbors and they knew each other since they were kids; that meant they were tight as friends just as Dead Curse was. He wasn’t proud of the beginnings of the band because as they got famous he developed a very arrogant ego and that brought a lot of negativity to the image of The Genius Sex Poets but all of that was in the past now.

Although he played guitar, bass and piano, he wasn’t that much of a music geek. It was a huge part of his life but now family was his priority. The way he talked about his son captivated Anastasia’s mind. He loved to travel and driving in the dessert, because having grown up in Las Vegas apparently being in the dessert was a huge thing to do, “It’s like escaping, leaving all the craziness behind. I go there every time I need to have a minute and breathe”, he told her. Apparently, he did that a lot during his divorce.

-          I really thought I was going to spend my life with her – He said at the table – But she never got used to this kind of life style, of me not being around as I would wanted. She wanted me to quit and have a business or something, but that’s not me, I couldn’t do that. Music has giving me so many great things and I won’t leave it for anything – Anastasia felt the same, she couldn’t see her doing anything else.

After dinner, he opened the bottle he brought and they enjoyed it on the backyard with the stars as a roof and moonshine as illumination. The natural element conspired to create a romantic aura.

-          I really have to say that you look especially beautiful tonight – He said tucking some of her loose hairs around the ponytail behind her left ear.

-          Maybe is it because I cooked you all that food – She lied and laughed.

-          I always have such a great time with you – Richard, tucking more of An’s hairs behind her hear, he was searching for excuses to keep touching her. Anastasia had a pleasant feeling in her stomach and smiled.

-          I really enjoy your company too. You are so easy going and… I don’t know – Anastasia said as Richard started to get close – It’s like we have this… - Richard brought his face really close to Anastasia’s and talked.

-          … Strong connection – He said before kissing her.

It was the most romantic kiss Anastasia have ever received, so different from Josh’s. So delicate, so respectful. He grabbed her firmly by her waist with his left hand and positioned his right hand on the back of her neck while she hugged him on his torso. Their mouths were doing a dance of their own and after almost a minute she broke the kiss to gasp for air. He looked at her straight to her eyes and smiled, she did the same.

-          I have never received a kiss like that before – She said and he smiled wider – So… so…

-          Meaningful – He said a word that wouldn’t pass through An’s mind but was the perfect word to describe it: meaningful – After everything that happened to me last year – He was still close to her face -  I really thought I wouldn’t fall in love ever again but how wrong I was.

Did he just say that he was in love with her? Anastasia’s mind started to work fast. She definitely had feelings for Richard, but Josh was still in her heart. Josh was with Lauren at that precise moment… and then An got it: she deserved, for once, a man that was just for her (like she told Josh before), and Richard was everything she needed at that moment, the Universe was handing her a pair of arms where she could heal and restore her love life.

-          I’m sorry – Richard broke the hug and gave a few steps back because of the lack of response from her – I think I came too straight – He was ashamed - She grabbed his face with both arms and smiled.

-          I like straightforward people – And kissed him again.

Nothing else happened that night; Richard was too much of a gentleman to let it go further and that actually attracted her more to him. Once in bed, ready for sleep she couldn’t stop thinking about what just happened, Richard fucking Austin kissed her, her teenage crush kissed her. She thought that maybe this is how some Josh’s younger fans fantasize with him, she use to fantasize with Richard and now he just told her that he loved her. That smile stayed tattooed on her face until the day of the Richard’s band show.

By then Josh has texted her at least twice per day but she didn’t feel the need to reply. If he wanted to act like a jealous kid he had to do it on his own, she wasn’t going to play around that attitude. He had Lauren and now Richard was part of Anastasia’s life, she was sure it was time to cut the cord with Josh, especially for her mental stability.

Richard was very happy to have her on the show, Mandy and Mark tagged along. Unfortunately, Steph had to stay in London for work, she was also doing a Major in English Literature and conducting an investigation with the Oxford University, Mark couldn’t choose better.

-          Steph and I decided we want a small wedding in the English countryside – Mark said at the bar inside the Fonda while waiting for The Genius Sex Poets to take the stage – Maybe we’ll rent a house there and spend a whole weekend celebrating. What about you? – He asked Mandy.

-          I’m getting married in Malibu, there’s no doubt about it – The pink-haired girl answered with a smile -  I actually found an amazing venue, a mansion at the shore that is very private, perfect for me to get ready there and have the ceremony and the reception at the same place.

-          I’m gonna give you your honeymoon so think where you want to go – Anastasia said and Mandy opened her eyes big.

-          Are you serious? – She said.

-          I’ll pay for everything – Anastasia was laughing because of Mandy’s reaction.

-          I can’t accept that!

-          Shut up! – Anastasia said – Think where you wanna go and I’ll pay and you can’t say no.

-          God gave me the best best friend someone could ask and I don’t really need to tell you but it’s obvious you will be my maid of honor – Even though Anastasia supposed it, hearing Mandy say it brought her a wind whirl of emotions and her eyes got watery.

-          Oh, stop you two, I’m going to cry too! – Mark said and laughed. Anastasia hugged her friend, nodded and tried to wipe the tears without destroying her makeup - I’m pretty sure Stephanie will ask you to be one of her bridesmaids too.

-          I’m going to cry more! – Anastasia said – Always the bridesmaid, never the bride.

-          Maybe that will change – Mark said pointing to the stage where Richard was coming out through the lights.

He was amazing on stage, not only he moved with confidence, his voice was to die for, so strong, so trained and so different from Josh’s. Mandy and Anastasia knew all the songs except for the new ones; they were listening to the classics since they were teenagers. Richard found An in the crowd even though she was far from the stage, and he locked eyes with her a couple of times giving her a couple of smiles.

After the last song, An, Mandy and Mark walked backstage. Richard, now with his clothes changed, gave Anastasia a tight hug and a big kiss on the lips which took her by surprise, that display of affection in front of his band mates, but she responded in the same way, kissing him back. Mandy was shocked but the rest of the people in that room didn’t seem to care a bit.

-          That was an amazing show! – Mark said breaking the spell between Richard and Anastasia.

-          The new songs are incredible – Mandy talked.

-          That’s all because of Mark – Richard said with a smile, a pair of dimples formed in his cheeks every time he smiled – He and his damn amazing ear for music made them.

-          Time to boost the producer’s ego – Mark laughed.

-          Let’s head to the bar for drinks – Richard said putting his arm on Anastasia’s back, she felt such comfort in that action.

Richard was very sociable, and although he talked with a bunch of people that night, he kept coming back to Anastasia’s side to share a drink with her or to make sure she had everything she needed. He was certainly giving her all the attention in the world and that made her feel good.

-          Anastasia, marry that guy right now! – Mandy was a bit tipsy – No! Forget it! I already told you I wasn’t going to give you any more advice on love.

-          I think we are ready to leave – Mark said and Anastasia saw Richard talking with some friends in the distance. He looked back at her.

-          I think I’m going to stay a little bit more – Anastasia said to Mark – I’ll call an Uber. Can you safely take Mandy back to her place? – She asked her brother.

-          Like the old days! – Mark answered – Say bye to Richard from us.

-          I will – Anastasia said and waved goodbye as her friend and Mark leave the place.

At that moment, Richard went back to An’s side.

-          What happened to Mandy and Mark? – He asked.

-          Mandy wasn’t feeling well so Mark took her home.

-          And you decided to stay – He smiled again and the dimples appeared again she felt the pleasant tingling in her stomach again.

-          Yeah… - She didn’t know what to answer.

-          Listen, I had a crazy idea – Richard smiled again – I have my motorcycle parked outside, what do you say if we ride to Palm Springs and spend the entire day there tomorrow? – It sounded like an amazing plan.

-          Yes! Sounds amazing! What time do we leave? – She didn’t get the whole idea.

-          Right now!

-          What?! That’s crazy! Richard, Palm Springs is two hours away! – She said but she wasn’t worried at all. She actually wanted to do it – Well, let’s go now, then! – He smiled and kissed her.

 Now, An was wearing his leather jacket and riding his Indian Chief Dark Horse motorcycle through the 10 Route, leaving Los Angeles behind and entering the dessert, that place Richard loved. This was crazy, it was almost two in the morning, it was dark and that gave a special aura to the road, but she didn’t care about it, she felt safe with him. Anastasia had forgotten the last time she rode a motorcycle, probably when she was thirteen.

She was hugging Richard tight and saw him smiling; he stroked her arms from time to time. They arrived to the Palm Springs’ Marriott Hotel at almost four in the morning.

-          Thank God they had rooms available because I didn’t plan any of this – He said laughing and opening the door to the suite with an amazing view to the pool. Everything was so peaceful at that hour.

-          This is crazy. We both had drinks at The Fonda – Anastasia said entering.

-          I only had one drink – He put his arms around her - I told you, coming to the dessert is like escaping, leaving the craziness behind…

They looked at each other; she knew what was going to happen. All the thrill of that night was reaching its peak. She loved that Richard acted that way, so impulsive, so unpredictable; she saw it when he appeared at Glastonbury Festival just to see her and now she was standing in front of her teenage crush naked, ready to give herself to him, not worrying about what happened to both in the past. The connection she had with Richard made her feel like she knew him during her whole life, in a way it was, but this was deep and special and the best of all she was happy.

She woke up feeling Richard’s lips on her neck. He was such a gentleman and treated her like she was a china doll, delicate. Although Richard was younger than Josh, the way he acted and talked and made love to her was so much mature. She was over the moon.

-          I want to spend the day at the pool – Richard said smiling.

-          Do you realize we didn’t pack anything? – She rolled over only to faint at his dimples.

-          We can fix that, one call to front desk and they can bring us bathing suits and everything we need – Yeah, Richard’s band was in a much higher position, he was definitely more famous than her so in the hotel they knew who he was.

He did his thing and the hotel gave then swimming suits from one of the boutiques inside, she had the most relaxing day at the pool and the spa. That night they made their way back to Los Angeles. She was hugging Richard on his motorcycle feeling like a whole new Anastasia. This was solid; she could feel it and the most important thing of all: this time she was calm about the future.

Read chapter 41