#oh you guys already know the one line Andrew response that I have ready is gonna slap

[ninyard]

exy fans + Twitter (the au where andreil gets outed)

[maks-punchout-hyperfixtion]

*cracks knuckles* ay folks you get a tumbler exclusive for awhile because I'm to lazy to actually go onto ao3

Reminder time!! This is my a.u and is not a direct depiction of spo/wii aran Ryan's personality

Tw's: slightly detailed injuries, reference to Macbeth, and self harm by hot water

Thanks to: @atypical-artisan for helping with errors and formatting

“Aran! C’mon we're going to be late!”

Absolutely no response came from the guy. Having Andrew sigh as if it was a daily occurrence now.

“Give the kid a break this is the longest he’s been separated from Ardin since..” Roree took her brush and tapped it seven times before snapping. “Since that time the school separated them by accident!”

“Roree, that's not something to be excited about.” Andrew pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don't got time for this! I have a match in an hour!”

“Andy it's not until 3.”

“If you're not early you're-”

“late blah blah blah you know i think Deedee knows a german fella you would love.”

“If I wasn't pissed already I would smack you.”

“Oh I would love to see you try!”

Andrew growled and Started to head upstairs, muttering about the upcoming fight. And complaining about Lucky being a whole sea away for another disaster, as he turned and opened the door.

“Aran!- I said- down Cu- I said come on!” Andrew pushed the dog down before giving it a small pat. He looked directly at the bed that had Aran in it. “I know you ain't sick lad, otherwise we would have been to the doctors already… again…”

“i rather be there then see another one of ye go against the bi-”

“Watch your tone.”

Andrew attempted to step over the random clothing and items on the floor, the kid loved to do big projects but god forbid he cleans his room, as he then took Aran’s blanket and pulled them off.

“Hey!”

“You’re goin’. I'm not leaving you: a teenager who witnessed his twin get sent to the hospital because of a damn cheater, alone in a house with more than enough to make us wo-OW!”

Aran slid a pair of horseshoes onto Andrew's foot, and despite seeing it coming it still hurt. Andrew shook his foot before glaring at Aran and picking up the horseshoes.

“You're going, rather you're being willing or not. And I can hold up me own with you so I suggest-”

“Yeah I'm feckin’ going lieutenant bollox.”

That got a smack from Andrew as Aran got up. Who just rolled his eyes and grabbed a sleeveless hoodie from the ground. Andrew rolled his eyes before sighing.

“Ye know we care about ya right?”

“Mhm.”

“..look Aran I promise that im goin’ to remind her not to fuck around with us.”

“And how will you do that?”

Aran took a glance at the horseshoes before stuffing them in his own hoodie’s pocket.

“Going with a different style.”

There were multiple reasons why Andrew never cheated. First, it reminded him of how unfair the world could truly be, the second stemmed from Ardin who once saw Aran break his hand from the horseshoe in glove tactic and now gets on top of people who do that. The 3rd reason was self explanatory, it was just wrong. He got here fair and square and he always wanted to stay like that.

Plus hitting a girl with horseshoes that were your own brother’s seemed wrong. But after a week of hearing the girl shit talk his own family the final straw was definitely close to breaking now.

Yet at the same time, it was still cheating. Even Narcis got onto him about it. Yes he wanted revenge for putting his sister in the hospital but she was 19 and able to stand her own ground normally.

“This is a mistake,” He muttered, adjusting his gloves.

There was a faint line that showed where the horseshoes were. He had time to call for a glove check. That would make a fair fight. He turned around to his coach but before he could say anything his opponent started yapping.

“Ey! Rran! You ready to prove to your own country that your family is full of weak and pathetic people? Thought your sister would relay the message!”

Rran- I mean Andrew snapped his head back, giving his opponent a death glare as his coach tapped him on the shoulder.

“Ay, you need something lad?”

Andrew thought for a moment before the bell signaling the start sounded.

“Just have medics on stand by.”

He got up from his corner, hearing the announcer shout the name Aran Ryan, god he's going to need to change that soon, with a lot more accuracy then the bitch Infornt of him ever actually did.

God will it be a blessing for her to shut up and have a ruined face.

The referee stepped onto the mat in-between the two, not uncommon when you put two enemies together in a match, and pulled out a piece of paper.

“Ight let's get this over with. This is a time trial so you only have 3 minutes. Once those three minutes are up you both go back to your corners and I'll decide the winner. You both should know the tko and ko rules by now right?”

“Yeah yeah can we get punching now?”

“Andrew, I will personally give you 20 euros if you break her mouth.”

Punch blade looked quite offended at that as Andrew just rolled his eyes.

“Oh relax about him.”

He glared at punch blade.

“I'm going to do much much worse.”

As the bell rung again Andrew’s coach went over to the doors, specifically where Roree and Aran were.

“Shouldn't yo-”

“I'm getting the medics like he asked. Wanna come?”

“No thanks. I got the short straw with this one.”

Aran slightly nudged Roree for that statement, solely because it wasn't a wise discussion even for him to smack someone who has a metal weight on her wrist. That alone was probably 5 pounds. Let alone the fact she was kinda an official arms wrestler. He proceeded to watch the fight, only slightly noticing something was off.

“Hey Roree?”

“Hm?”

“I think he broke her back.”

“Oh very fu- wait what.”

As if on cue as Roree turned around she saw Andrew push the screaming girl off of him, and landed a kick right in the stomach. Not a signature move in the ring. But definitely a signature move outside of it. And it always landed someone in the hospital and him in the station.

“Oh shit- uh Aran im going to run somewhere you just um stay.”

Aran just gave a thumbs up as Roree ran into the hall.

Meanwhile the referee started the count as soon as punch blade hit the floor, but stopped when he saw Andrew pull another punch directly in her face.

“Hey. Andrew, that's enough! Back to your corner!”

But Andrew didn't care, he continued the punches, landing them in spots that would definitely leave more than a bruise.

The only time he stopped was when a blade sliced over his glove, cutting it open, Resulting in the horseshoe falling out and a gasp from the crowd, even Aran looked shocked at the scene.

The shock eventually wore off as punch blade took her knife out of her glove and attempted to stab Andrew with it, only for him to grab her arm and smash the horseshoe right onto it.

The look in his eyes was almost chilling as he lifted the thing up, like he was contemplating something, before he smashed the horseshoe right into her mouth. Breaking past the mouth guard and cracking a few teeth, the second time did a few in.

He then grabbed her hair and smashed the side of her head, right where her ear was. He was about to go for her neck next when something grabbed the horseshoe and yanked it out of his hand.

“Jesus fuck Andrew enough! She's down! You won!”

Roree tossed the horseshoe aside and grabbed Andrew's arm and pulled him away while a medic looked at punch blade. The ring was now stained with blood.

“Dude the hell did you do to her?”

The referee got onto the ring while looking at punch blade, causing Andrew to look too.

Frankly what was listed wasn't the only thing he apparently did, there was a gash on her head and she was spitting pieces of teeth and mouth guard out, but she was clenching the side of her torso, specifically where the ribs were. And it was clear her arm was broken, or at least fractured. Her leg was sprained. Frankly Andrew didn't actually recall what he did or didn't do, but the horrified look on the peoples faces he could see spelled it all.

He almost killed her.

“Andrew?”

No response, what was there to say anyways? ‘oh i'm sorry for nearly killing you’?

Like he could have gotten the words out, his entire body was shaking, almost near hyperventilating.

Without another word he pulled his arm away from Roree, got up and rushed off the ring. Not even stopping as his sister yelled for him, then he was just gone.

It was only an hour after statements were given and the fun of it. In full frank nobody in any of the WVBA's would say anything bad about Andrew, hell shark bite from Australia even said he should have killed Lucy, yet it was completely useless as the officials found a letter of resignation and Andrew’s locker cleaned out shortly after they went to find him. Causing quite the worry in some of the Ireland officials and his own siblings.

“I'm sure he's fine. This was just. Something out of the ordinary he’ll come back!”

“No. No Aran he isn't.”

Roree sighed as she stopped herself from putting her head on the steering wheel of the car. Aran was holding his horseshoes Andrew stole, a case wasn't opened so it wasn't used as evidence, Aran wished it was though. It was probably more blood then horseshoe now, he had it wrapped in a couple of paper towels but they didn't do a good job of absorbing the blood. And frankly he was still scared of the whole thing, funny considering the fact he wasn't scared of anything else.

“Aran. If he's home I don't want you talking to him. Not yet anyways.”

Aran was about to protest as Roree held up her hand.

“You. You don't know this side of him. Frankly I rather you don't even come inside ‘til I tell you. Just, leave us alone to talk. Alright?”

There was more worry in her voice now. As if she was contemplating what she would find when she got home.

“Actually. If he is home -call Narcis, he had a fight with an Irish rookie today he should still be here, unless he actually likes making 2 to 6 hour trips.”

They stopped at their house, seeing Andrew’s bike just tossed onto the ground.

“Well at least he made it home in one piec- wait when did bring his bike?!”

“I think he just kept it there just in case.”

“Aran do me a favor and don't do that when you and Ardin move to new york. They're worse than here.”

Roree got out of the car and tossed her phone over to Aran.

“Narcis’s name is under ‘golden bastard’- don't tell Andrew- I'm going to go talk to him.”

Aran gave a thumbs up again as Roree went inside, her first notice was the mirror being foggy, the second was hot water being run.

“Andrew, you better not have been trying to wash your hands clean of blood like Lady Macbeth with hot water again!”

The water was shut off as the sound of a towel being quickly wrapped around hands was heard. How? Because he kept hitting the sink with his hand as Roree noticed him cleaning the sink from water drops.

“Andrew.”

“what?”

“The hell are you doing?”

“...dishes.”

“What dishes? I did them this morning before we left!”

Andrew stayed silent as Roree walked over, steam was still leaving the stink as she grabbed the towel and pulled it off, seeing his typically slightly tan but still pale skin being sunburnt red. She just sighed as if this wasn't the first time.

“I'm not going to bug you on that. Why did you quit?”

“Why? Ain’t it obvious?”

Roree just shook her head at that.

“Andy, nobody in that association is going to turn you in. Hell they'll even drop the to-”

“I don't care. I still broke my own morals and almost killed someone in the ring!”

“That's.. well that's a bit of an over statement aint it?”

“Oh when the hell is it?!”

Andrew slammed his hand on the sink, before pulling it back.

“It doesn't matter, Roree. I'm not going back to a place that allows filthy cheaters to compete.”

“Aran’s a filthy cheater. I’m a filthy cheater. Are you saying-”

“You two are different. And again it doesn't and will not matter! Frankly I was already planning on quitting. This was just a send off.”

Roree was taken aback a bit from that.

“But you love boxing! It was your dream! What changed?”

“There's a difference between a dream and a reality, Roree. My dream was boxing. The reality is that no matter what somebody is going to cheat someone out of something.”

Andrew put a hand on his head. “I'm getting a headache. I'm going to bed.”

Before Roree could say anything he tossed the towel onto her head and walked off to his room. The door slammed shut as he entered it. Roree just looked onwards. Pondering if he was being serious or not. Then the front door slammed open.

“DUDE YOU BROKE THE FECKIN' HANDLE!”

well on the high note. At Least they could now replace that ugly door handle Narcis just ripped off. Roree didn't say anything, just pointed to Andrew’s room as Narcis Sprinted to his room. She proceeded to glare at Aran.

“What?”

“I told you to just call him.”

“I did!”

“You said something, what was it?”

“Just a recap of everything.”

“I'm never trusting you with calling someone ever again.”

[bodyswapmischief]

Andrew sat on the couch looking at his phone. He browsed through his feed, when suddenly he felt his dick become erect. Which wasn't strange for your average 23 year old man.

Andrew looked up and saw his friend Andy on the otherside of the room. So, he just ignored his boner. He couldn't just whip out and jack off infront of his friend. Besides, ignoring his hard 2 inch boner wasn't a hard thing to do.

Moments passed and the pain began to get harder to ignore. Without looking, he tried to get into a comfortable position. That's when he felt something warm and long press against his leg.

It caught him off guard and he jump a bit. The swift movement caused his pants to tightly squeeze his dick and he moaned in pain.

Finally, Andrew looked down and saw what was going on. His heart raced, as he pushed a snake like bulge in his pants going down his leg. With each poke, he moan out in pleasure. Finally, it was confirmed in his mind; his dick had become a thick 8 inch monster.

Instinctively, he placed a pillow over his new giant buldge. He looked over at his friend who seemed oblivious. Without making a scene, he tried ot get up. But, the pant fabric painfully squeezed his dick and balls. He yelp in pain and, quickly, sat back down.

Andy started walking towards Andrew. A smile was on his face. "So, it's finally kicking in." Andy said as he looked at Andrew's crotch. Andy started unzipping his pants.

"What the fuck are you doing!?" Andrew shouted. But before he could look away, he saw a familiar sight hanging from his friends body. There was no mistake. Andrew's small dick was now attached to his friends body. "You might as well take off your pants. It not like I haven't seen my own dick before." Andy said.

Then it hit Andrew. The bulge in his pants was similar to the few times he caught Andy with a boner. He sighed to get over the awkwardness and whipped it out. Revealing a dick he only saw the outlines of, through shorts. As it stood erect, he was happy to be free from the pain created from his tight pants.

"What the fuck is going on" Andrew said puzzled.

"I'm giving you my dick for the day. After you told me you haven't had sex because you're embarrassed of your dick size, I knew I had to help out my bro." Andy answered.

"What! This is fucking crazy. You probably should just undo whatever you did..." Andrew begin to worry.

"Dude, relax! Come on. I've been pretending to be you on multiple dating apps and I set up a day of sex for you. Who knows, if this goes well maybe I'll let you borrow my dick again.

"I don't know. This all seems to weird." Andrew said, still questioning everything.

"Stopping doing that! Stop and just enjoy it. Most guys would be thrilled to magically have an 8 in cock placed between their legs. Come on, this will give you the confidence boost I know you need."

"Yeah, I know your right. I'm actually kind of grateful and surprised you care this much... But, I haven't had sex. I don't know how to use this." Andrew said grabbing his new junk.

"Then fuck me bro. You know I've had a crush on you. Now, I can live my fantasy of you fucking me. Think of it as a payment for letting you borrow my dick," Andy saw the hesitation in Andrew's face. "Look, I know your straight. But don't think of it like that. Your using my own dick to fuck me. There's nothing gay about that right!? Besides it'll give you the practice you need for all the sex you'll have today."

Andy bent over to reveal his tight asshole. Andrew's new 8 inch dick got hard. Everything about this situation scream wrong. But, he knew he couldn't let an opportunity like this pass. He wanted to finally expirence sex. He'll just think of banging his buddy as a learning opportunity so, he be able to please all those ladies booked up.

Andrew drew in a deep breath and let his instincts take over. He walked over to Andy. "Can I put it in?" He asked.

"Dude look at me I'm ready to receive. You don't have to ask." Andy said annoyed .

Andrew slowly put his dick in his friends ass. They both gasp in pleasure. Finally all 8 inches squeeze into Andy's ass. "Okay, I'm in. Are you okay does it feel good." Andrew ask.

"Fuck yeah dude. Now pull it out a bit and stick it back in. And that's basically fucking." Andy responded. Slowly Andrew pulled out and and even slower he pushed it back in.

"Hold on dude." Andy sighs. "What! Is something wrong. Am I hurting you." Andrew ask. "No bro, your going so slowly. Pick up the speed."

Andrew start going a bit faster, in and out. Andy started moaning in pleasure. "There you go. Uh... uh... fuck ...yes keep going."

Andrew loved the feeling as his dick sled against the walls of his friends asshole. He started feeling this new power deep in his body grow. He felt more confident with each thrust. And; with that increase in confidence, he was becoming more aggressive. "Fuck yeah, take it bitch." He yelled out as he picked up speed, going faster and faster. He began letting out loud raoring moans.

"Ugh.. uh ...uh... uh slow ....uh down." Andy moaned out. "No bitch, you're fucking taking it." Andrew shouted back. They both scream out in an orgasmic climax as Andrew's dick released a full load of cum into Andy's ass.

Andrew quickly whipped out his dick from Andy's ass, causing Andy to yell out. As soon as all 8 inches were out, Andrew tossed Andy to the side like a used toy. Andrew began staring at himself in the mirror. Flexing and playing with the monster of a dick between his legs.

Andy was left on the bed catching his breath. He looked at Andrew, checking himself out. He was happy to see Andrew enjoying himself. But with each passing second, he felt more insecure of having his naked body exposed on the bed. He look at Andrew and was intimidated by there new cock size differences. He quickly began covering himself up.

At this point Andy knew something was wrong with the spell. He want to recommend swapping their cock sizes back to normal but he was worried how Andrew would respond. He didn't want to make his friend angry.

Before, Andy could stir up the last shreds of confidence left in his body. Andrew started getting dressed. "Thanks bro, I'm gonna fuck the shit out of these bitches. Oh and I don't know how you did this but yeah, I think we both agree that this should be permanent now, don't we."

Andy could clearly feel that both of their personalities were changing. He looked at the new strength Andrew's already strong body had seemed to gain. He seemed more manly and more attractive. Andy was beyond intimidated. In fact his small 2 iches was starting to get hard again.

Andrew stood aggressively staring at Andy, waiting for a response. His python hanging out in the open. Andy was starting to feel afraid of what Andrew would do if he said no. So, Andrew just nodded his head in agreement.

"Good, I liked that answer." Andrew responded. "I think you just earned a round two, after I come back from fucking all these sluts you lined up for me. It feel like this dick still wants to be a part of you . But, it doesn't seem to mind that the only way that going happen now is by being shoved in your ass."

As Andrew left, Andy tried to fight these new feelings that were flooding his mind. He ran to his room to see where the spell went wrong. And, his heart sank as he realized he failed to read the full spell.

Note: If the two affected by the spell commit intercourse their personalities will change depending on the roles they played in said intercorse. Also, as long as the spell last they will be bonded by sexual interest with each other.

Andy realized what he did. By helping Andrew and guiding him what to do. Andy turned Andrew into a dominant, aggressive, sexual beast. He on the other hand had become submissive and caring to Andrew's every need.

Even now with the spell infront of him, he couldn't get himself to recite the reversal spell. It would go against the helpful, submissive, caring attitude towards Andrew that he now felt and acted out during sex with him.

In fact having this spell around was just a threat to Andrew's new happiness. So, Andy tore it up and flushed it down the toilet. The last piece of who he used to be screamed out in horror.

He looked around the apartment. He knew it would be to messy for his Andrew. He need to make sure his Andrew was happy and pleased when he got back home. And, after all that sex he was gonna do, his Andrew was going need some nourishment when he got back home.

As Andy cooked and clean, he could only smile thinking about how happy he was going to make his Andrew. Being a cum dump for him wouldn't be so bad. Yeah, it sucked, that he had to share his Andrew with a constant parade of sluts. But, what would one expect being in a relationship with a man as attractive and manly as his Andrew. And, at the end of they day, Andy knew his man would always come home. After all, his Andrew couldn't resist his nice ass. It was a weird relationship but, it worked for them.

[kevindayscrown]

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

Part 1 The lost bet

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

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

It started with a bet.

A lost bet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He didn’t.

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

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

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

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

But this involved Kevin.

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

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

“I may or may not have placed a bet.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Andrew was munching on that piece of pie from earlier.

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

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

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

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

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

“Welcome to my domain, Day.”

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

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

“Need help Day?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Part your legs.”

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

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

Kevin was too stunned to push him away.

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

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

[crowdedimagines]

Leaked Pt. 2 - Harry Styles

PART ONE

Harry and I follow Gemma back into the house. I cross my arms over my chest, fighting the chill from outside that seems to linger in my bones now. We take a seat back at the table, everyone seems to be stressed and tired of talking, I don’t blame them. I’m thankful Harry and I got a break from it.

“Alright, so we were able to detect what they had access to and what was downloaded from the online server.” Andrew, whose name I learned, says looking at both Harry and I to explain.

“So what else did they get?” Harry questions, he sits up a little straighter in his chair.

“It looks like they also had access to some audio files.”

“Audio files?”

“What? The studio version of medicine?” I tease, assuming that whatever it was can’t be too bad. Harry’s had songs leak before, even if it’s something that ended up being scrapped it can’t be the end of the world. It can’t be as bad as a leaked image of us across twitter.

“No, it looks like they only took several files dated July 15th of 2019.”

“July 15th?” I raise my brows.

“What happened-” Harry starts to question the significance, but it instantly clicks for me. All of the humor and lightheartedness I had is knocked right out of me.

“Fuck-” I pull my hair back over my shoulder. The chill that clung to my bones is gone now, now I can feel myself break out into a sweat. Harry turns to look at me and as soon as our eyes meet I can tell that it’s clicked for him as well.

“It’s our song” Harry states, his voice so quiet that I’m sure not everyone in the room caught it. His voice is soft and low, barely registering.

“Your song?” Anne prompts, her face full of concern as she notice’s the color that’s completely drained from our faces.

“Can we clear out the room for a few minutes?” Harry asks, he takes his hand in mine and nods for Anne and Gemma to fill the seats that have now been vacated.

“Can I?” Harry looks at me for permission before continuing. I give him a soft smile and nod, at this point I’m glad they’ll know. I’d rather they know than the whole world.

“July 15th was the day Y/n and I got back from the hospital.” Harry swallows, “The day before Y/n had suffered a miscarrige.”

The silence in the room is louder than I could’ve expected. Gemma and Anne look at each other, obviously shocked before turning their attention back to us. Their expressions seem just as solemn now.

“So the audio file is?” Gemma looks between us confused.

“So together we wrote a song for our daughter.” I nod, tears slipping without being able to stop them.

“It was really therapeutic, I think we both sobbed through practically the whole thing.” He looks to me and I just nod and agree. Harry’s hand still hasn’t left mine.

“I’m sorry that you guys had to find out this way.” I pull my head up to finally make eye contact. Tears are still slowly streaming, but I’m able to blink past them, “We had been so excited to tell you guys that we were expecting and it was only a few weeks after that we had already lost her.”

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Anne says, her eyes filling up with tears of her own at this point.

“So this was right before you guys broke up.” Gemma realizes, “Is that-?”

She doesn’t seem to be able to finish her own thought. The air in the room is a little too heavy. If I wasn’t drained before, I am now.

“Partly.” Harry nods.

“It wasn’t a lie that the stress of always being apart tore us apart, but going through something like that and then having to fly across the world. We didn’t get to heal from that together, and it ruined our relationship.”

Third Person POV

Slowly the group makes their way back in. Harry makes it very clear to all of them that they need to do everything in their power to stop that audio file from seeing the light of day. It crushed him to see the defeated look on Y/n’s face. She looks exhausted. Harry can’t pull his eyes from her saddened face every couple of seconds. The last thing he wants is for her to feel emotionally exposed as well as physically.

“Y/n, why don’t we go off to bed.” Anne gets up from her spot and places a gentle hand on the younger girl's shoulder. She only nods and lets Anne lead her up stairs. No one else at the table comments, no one dares. Harry’s eyes follow her as Anne wraps an arm around her shoulder and they walk up the stairs.

Anne leads her to Harry’s room, knowing that she was bound to stay there after everything that’s happened today. No one can blame her for being so tired, it was only a few hours ago that she landed. She’s had her body exposed to the world and now there’s the potential for one of the most intimate parts of her to be exposed as well. Today has been the day from hell for Y/n.

Y/n changes into one of Harry’s shirts and tucks herself in under the covers. It’s been over a year since she’s been in this bed. Anne comes back in to check on her, noticing her eyelids are falling heavy as they talk.

Anne curls up in the sitting chair on the other side of the master bedroom. It doesn’t feel right to leave her alone right now in this state and she doesn’t exactly feel like participating in the conversations downstairs anymore. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth hearing people speak so casually over something so personal.

It’s a few hours later when Harry makes his way upstairs and he’s surprised to see either of them in his room. He looks like the definition of exhausted. His mom looks up from her book and glances over to see that Y/n is still asleep.

“Is she alright?” Harry asks, looking at the girl curled up in his bed.

“She will be.” Anne sets down the book. She pulls the blanket off of her shoulders and folds it up neatly.

“Did you guys get anything decided?” Anne questions, making her way over to her son by the door.

“Yeah, Jordan and Jeff both agree that it might be in our best interest to release a statement. If it gets out we’ll obviously need to address it. They want to talk it over again tomorrow morning once Y/n is feeling a bit better.”

“Sounds great, love.” Anne presses a soft kiss to his cheek before letting herself out.

Harry breaks his stare on the love of his life so he can get ready for bed himself. He brushes his teeth and does his night routine as quietly as he can. From what he remembers, it always used to wake Y/n up anyway, but she’s exhausted.

He finally finishes up and hovers over his side of the bed, unsure if he should cross that line. Sure she’s laying in his bed, but that doesn’t mean it’s an open invitation for them to share the bed.

“Just get in already.” Her voice surprises Harry. Her eyes didn’t even flinch to open. Harry doesn’t need to be told twice, he slides in on his side.

“What are we going to tell the fans?” Her voice a soft echo in the silence.

Harry lets out a long sigh, moving to lay on his back.

“I don’t know. How much do we want them to know? Neither of us have ever let the fans in like this before.”

“But aren’t they going to figure it out anyway? We know that they’re smart, and our lyrics were hardly veiled.”

“I think I would rather tell them. If we can’t stop it from getting out there, I would want to avoid as many conspiracy theories as possible. How do you feel about it?”

Y/n reaches out her hand to connect it with Harry’s. His head snaps over to look at her and she’s staring down at where her fingers fiddle with his rings.

“I feel comfortable with that. The whole world is going to know now.”

His words fill the silence, Y/n only letting out a sigh in response.

“I should call my parents and let them know. Y/S/N too. They deserve to know before the story breaks.”

Y/n shifts back onto her side facing away from him, letting Harry’s hand drop in the process. He turns to his side, facing the same direction as her. She turns back, looking over her shoulder towards him.

“Thank you.” Her voice a soft whisper, her eyes meeting his after glancing over his bare chest.

“What for?” He clears his throat, his voice catching from speaking so softly.

“For being you Harry. For being understanding and loving in spite of everything.” She turns back to rest her head back on the pillow, “I don’t think there’s anyone else I would want to have to go through this with.”

Harry scoots closer, he hovers his arm over her waist before settling it when there weren’t any protests. Y/n places her hand on top of his, holding it securely against her.

“I will always love you, Y/n. I wish we didn’t have to go through this, but I’m glad to have you too.”

Those are the last words they exchange that night.

Y/n’s POV

The sun is rising, alerting me that I need to get up and get ready. I manage to snake my way out of Harry’s grasp before he can wake up as well. I make my way to the bathroom and take a long shower.

“Jordan brought in your suitcase last night.” Harry informs.

“Oh, great. Thank you!”

He simply nods before going into the bathroom himself to get ready for the morning. I wrap the towel a little tighter around my body and quickly make my way downstairs to grab my bag. By the time I get back to Harry’s room I can hear the water running in the shower. It gives me enough time to get dressed and escape down to the kitchen before he exits.

“Good morning!” Anne smiles from her spot at the stove.

“Morning.” I smile, I take a seat next to a sleepy Gemma.

“This coffee isn’t even helping.” Gemma groans, throwing her head on my shoulder and closing her eyes.

“That’s because Mum made it.” Harry says as he walks in with a wet head, “Have Y/n make the next batch. That’ll surely get you wide awake.”

“Sounds like an excuse to get my world famous coffee if you ask me.” I eye him with a smile.

“You caught me, love.” He grabs plates for everyone and starts setting the table, noticing his mother is getting close to being done with all the food. I tap Gemma softly on the shoulder so I can get up and make a new pot of coffee. Harry always used to tell me my coffee was his favorite, it always packed a punch.

We all settle at the table, Harry with a large mug of the hot coffee.

“Anne, everything looks wonderful.” I smile looking over everything she’s prepared.

“Thank you.” She grins.

We all dig in, too hungry to prolong it anymore.

“What time is everyone getting here?” I ask, mainly waiting for Harry to answer.

“Within the hour.”

“Have you guys decided what you’re going to do?” Gemma sets down her fork to look at the both of us, prompting me to turn and look at Harry.

“We’re going to tell the fans. We want them to hear it from us, take away the power from the person who hacked my phone.” Harry explains.

“Yeah, that reminds me. I need to call my parents.” I dab the corners of the mouth with a napkin before excusing myself.

Harry’s POV

I watch as Y/n leaves the room to make the call privately.

“So, how is she?” Anne asks, focusing on me.

“With all things considered, I think she’s doing alright.” I take a sip of the coffee that’s still warm, “We both agreed that we’re going to tell the fans today. Clarify a few things.”

“I think that’s a good idea.” Gemma nods.

“Me too. It’s nice having her here again.” My mum smiles looking at me.

“Mum, don’t go there.” I warn.

“I didn’t mean anything by it!” She defends, “I just said it’s nice.”

“She’s right.” Gemma chimes in, “Y/n has always been our favorite. We all know that your story with her is far from over.”

I simply shake my head, knowing better than to argue with these two. It’s a short while later Y/n makes a reappearance, her eye’s red and puffy.

“Alright, everyone’s in the know.” She sighs.

Right on que there’s a knock on the door. I’m sure it’s just starting that our teams are showing up. Ready to start a new day.

“Alright, so Harry said that you guys agreed on putting out a statement. We can get started on that today. We need to decide how we want to do it, we have a few options.” Jordan explains, “We can type up a statement from both of you and release it on social media or if you guys wanted to say something.”

“Like a video?” Y/n asks.

“Exactly. It’s totally up to you guys, it’s a matter of preference.” Jeff cuts in, “Sometimes it's a little more comfortable to do it that way so you can say exactly what you want and people can hear your tone, but at the same time it’s a lot more personal this way.”

“What do you want to do?” Y/n suddenly turns to get my opinion.

“I’m fine with either-”

“C’mon, what’s your head saying.” She has a soft knowing smile on her face. I smile back at her because how could I not.

“I think that if we’re coming clean and trying to be honest about things, it could be good to have it actually coming from our mouths.”

“I agree.” She turns back to look at Jordan and Jeff, “So how exactly do we go about that?”

“So we’ll start by-”

Jeff stops speaking as his phone buzzes, he glances down quickly and his eyes widen for a second. Whatever it is it’s enough to have completely captured his attention.

“What is it?” I ask, I start spinning one of my rings subconsciously. It takes what feels like minutes of pure silence, but in actuality it’s only a few seconds for him to answer.

“The audio file is out.”

Fuck.

~

i’m sorry for all the switching of POVs but that’s the best way i felt I could communicate how i wanted things to go. 

PART 3?!?! how are we feeling? mini series?

[jimmys-zeppelin]

ghostin'

chapter sixteen

(table of contents)

(chapter fifteen)

july 4, 1976

be my mistake

Ellie balanced a variety of liquor bottles in her arms. Some were for her to take home, others were for the party later that night. Carolyn had asked her—practically begged on her knees—to get some and shoved a shopping list in her hands.

In an attempt to look at her watch and check the time, two bottles had begun to slip. Just before one could shatter to the linoleum tiled floor, a hand rushed in and grabbed it for her. Roger's face quickly became familiar to her as her entire body relaxed. Major embarrassment had been avoided.

"Thanks, Rog." Ellie exhaled.

"I told you not to carry so many bottles. Or at least get a basket." Roger said, guiding them toward the checkout line.

"I thought I'd be able to make it," she replied simply, letting a few bottles fall onto the belt as she adjusted the others she had been holding. Roger reached out and stood the remaining bottles up as they moved down closer to the cashier stood opposite them.

"Can I see some ID, please?" The teenager asked, stopping the belt, the bottles clinking against each other as a result.

Ellie scoffed, starting to pull her wallet from the small handbag that had been slung over her shoulder. Roger stepped in instead, handing over his own ID before Ellie could even get her wallet out.

"You the guy from Queen?" the boy asked upon further inspection, handing Roger back his identification. The blond nodded curtly, not wanting to be too loud about his identity. "Rock'n'roll, man." He eyed up Ellie, who smiled at him sweetly, just waiting for the items to get scanned so they could leave.

☆

"Why didn't you let me show my ID?" Ellie asked, handing Roger the wad of cash Carolyn had given her for the drinks while they carried the two paper bags clinking with alcoholic beverages back to her car.

"Didn't want him seeing your address." he shrugged, reaching in his pocket for his pack of cigarettes after placing the bags in the backseat.

Before lighting up, he offered Ellie a cigarette, motioning the box toward her and she decidedly took one, placing it between her lips as Roger came forward with his lighter, firing up the cancer stick as she started the car.

"Very gentlemanly of you, Rog."

"Always." he chuckled, rolling the passenger window down as he exhaled the nicotine from his lungs. He looked around the vehicle as the bottles made their existence known behind them. "What kind of car is this?" he asked.

"A P1800. Volvo. My parents got it for my 18th birthday. Neat, isn't it?"

"Very," Roger replied, running his hand over the dashboard, "You talk to Jimmy recently?"

Ellie paused, "yeah. We spoke a few days ago. Not much to talk about, though, since neither of us are doing shows. We're relatively boring people." she chuckled, taking a drag and tapping the remnants of the cigarette out the window.

"Right right. Zep's newest album was great."

"Oh, you heard it?" she asked, reflecting on the fact that not even she had heard it yet. Somehow she felt guilty about it.

"Yeah, I mean, like the energy. Great great great. He produced, right?"

"Always. I like that he produces the band's records. Really keeps the integrity within the band, you know? Like it's truly their vision that's being put out."

"I thought the one song..." he paused, searching for the name, "Tea for One! It sounded a bit like their other song from a few years back. Gosh what was the name..." Roger trailed off, snapping his fingers as he racked his mind for the title. Ellie pulled into her driveway as Roger pondered, "Ah! Since I've Been Loving You."

The two exited the vehicle and tossed their cigarettes before reaching into the backseat for the various drinks they'd purchased. Ellie got her keys ready before looking back at the drummer.

"You think so? Who was on the writing credit?" she asked, unlocking the front door and letting Roger in first, "excuse the mess."

"I think the credits were to Page/Plant." Roger replied, quickly finding the kitchen and setting the paper bag down on the counter. "Are you putting these in the ice box?" he asked.

Ellie found solace in the question, taking advantage of it and using it to change the subject, "Yeah, I'll keep it in until we have to leave and I think I have a cooler in the garage that we can take with us when the car comes to pick us up."

"Awesome, do you mind if I go get it?"

"Not at all, the door's right over that way. You should be able to find it. I'm gonna take a shower and get ready, okay?"

Roger nodded, "of course, take your time."

☆

Ellie's eyes met Andrew's as she and Roger made their entrance at the rooftop of some building in association with her label. The blonde hurried over as best as she could in her high heels while the two seemed to screech in excitement.

"I see you brought Project Blondie with you."

"Stop calling him that." Ellie said, trying to be serious, but at the same time holding back a laugh. She looked back to see Roger handing over her cooler to someone in formalwear. He pulled the man aside, whispering something to him before pointing in Ellie's direction. The blonde smiled and waved at the two when they looked over at her.

Another word of communication was exchanged between them before Roger made his way over to Andrew and Ellie.

"Hey, I was just telling him that the cooler's yours and you'd need it back before you left."

"Thanks Rog." She replied, "I don't believe you've met Andrew."

The men shook hands, "I'm the one who came out to you over the phone." Andrew chuckled.

"Ah, yes. I do recall that. It's a pleasure." Roger said, turning to Ellie, "can I get you a drink?"

"Oh yes please." the blonde stated. Roger nodded, trying to hold back a laugh as he went to grab the two of them some drinks.

Andrew reached back to the table behind him and grabbed two shot glasses. From the smell, Ellie could tell it was vodka as it was shoved into her hands. "What's this for?" she asked.

"Liquid courage." the man replied as if it were obvious.

"Courage for what?"

"You're obviously trying to please him. Maybe you'll ease up a bit with some vodka in your system."

Ellie sighed, clinking the two shot glasses together before the two of them downed the alcohol that burned its way down their throats. With a dry cough she looked up at her best friend, "I'm not cheating on Jimmy. If this is your ploy to get me to sleep with Roger you'll regret the day you were born."

Andrew feigned fear, "As if you couldn't make that decision on your own. Deep down you know what you want."

"And that's to be with Jimmy." She said as Andrew collected his things and started on his way elsewhere.

"I can't hear you because I'm walking away." he replied nonchalantly as the sound of his voice floated away with each step he took.

Ellie rolled her eyes, peering over the edge of the building where she could see three men on the ground floor setting up the fireworks display that would be going off in a few hours. Things like this always excited her.

Her thoughts were interrupted when a red cup blocked her view of the ground. She looked up to see Roger, looking pleased as he held the cup out to her. Ellie took it graciously before downing a quick sip.

"It's a beautiful view, isn't it?" he asked, staring out into the West Hollywood cityscape. They faintly saw an airplane touch down at LAX before turning to look at each other.

"California's a beautiful place to be. Kinda wish I could've taken you to the beach before you had to leave. Sorry I've been tied up with my studio stuff."

"Oh, it's no bother, really. I took a walk down the Santa Monica pier last week during sunrise. It was beautiful."

"Was the jet lag bad?" She asked.

"I walked down to the pier to watch the sun rise, didn't I?"

Ellie laughed in response, taking another sip of the drink in her hand, "I never really get to go down there anymore. Always doing something."

"You're up and coming, darling. It's good that you're busy." Roger replied, taking a swig of his drink. Ellie smiled at his calling her darling. It made something inside her flutter a little.

☆

Ellie placed another glass of champagne down on a random table, nearly tripping over her feet as she did so. The number of drinks she'd downed in the hour and a half since she'd arrived at the party were already immeasurable. Whoever the barista was, she'd have to thank them later.

The boom of the first firework startled her as it did many on the rooftop. Gazes shifted to the bright lights illuminating the sky and they ooh'd and ahh'd in amazement. Ellie looked over to see Roger sitting at a table on his own and couldn't help but make him revel in amazement along with her.

"Roger!" she exclaimed, making her way over to the drummer. He turned his head quickly, seeing her barreling over to her. Quick to stand up to try to hold her before she fell, Roger set his drink down and caught her hand in his. "The fireworks, look!" she marveled.

Another was set off into the sky, the high pitched whistle as it flew through the air before it burst with a crackle caught their attention. Ellie turned to Roger, with a beaming smile on her face, "I'm so drunk right now," she whispered in his ear.

"I'm aware." The blond laughed as he guided them toward the wall so Ellie could rest on it and watch the fireworks display at the same time. The continuous, loud booms kept them from being able to speak too much, but their fingers remained intertwined as they watched on.

"Y'know," Ellie started, slurring her words slightly as she leaned into his ear, "Jimmy never came over at the Fourth to watch the fireworks with me."

"Gosh, I'm sorry about that. I hope you're having a good time though."

"Yeah, I'm having fun. Good drinks...good music...good company...drinks..."

"I think you've had enough drinks for tonight, Els." Roger said, only to be interrupted again by the drunken woman.

"Jimmy....he's completely off his rocker. He's on that heroin stuff, it's completely doing him in. I can hear it...when we're on the phone he's like....completely off in space." Ellie said absently, singsonging the end of her statement.

"Oh...uhm. I hope he gets well, then." he replied awkwardly, not knowing how to respond to the personal confession.

"I know. And like—" the boom of more fireworks, "wow. I feel bad because the whole album, I mean the whole album is about him. I don't wanna," a few more explosions, "I don't wanna seem like a sellout."

"Well, people write what they know, right? This is what's affecting you at the moment, of course you'll want to write about it."

"Y'know, Rog...you're so sweet to me," Ellie said, looking right into his baby blues and rubbing the top of his hand with her thumb. Her voice hushed slightly as she leaned in closer to him the slightest bit. Roger, being too confused to do anything, stood in place, not moving. "Maybe I should...get rid of Jimmy and get with you instead." she finished as fireworks cluttered the world around them.

Roger searched Ellie's eyes for any answer as to what she was going to do next, but the drunken haze clouded her judgement. A firework hissed through the night sky and exploded with a big bang as Ellie pressed her lips to Roger's. Confusion crossed his features and he contemplated what to do before tentatively kissing her back for a brief second.

As the gunpowder dissipated in the sky, Ellie pulled away, her gaze still glassy and not totally there as she went back to watching the fireworks as if nothing had occurred. Roger stood stunned in place, watching Ellie instead of the display of fireworks for a long moment. It was only when she looked over to him again that she realized her fingers were still intertwined with his and she giggled at the predicament.

Roger looked around. It seemed no one had noticed the kiss. He was glad on that note, but his heart sank in his chest when he realized the gravity of what had happened. Maybe he should leave. Or maybe he could pretend nothing happened just as Ellie had. If they just didn't talk about it, the occurrence could get erased from history and Roger likely wouldn't get his shit rocked by Peter Grant, Led Zeppelin's gargantuan manager for being The Other Man.

He quickly let go of her hand and walked over to the bar, "Scotch, no ice, please." he said, drumming his fingers on the bar-top nervously.

---

it's ironic because I finished writing this chapter on the fourth of july...

masterlist | playlist

Taglist: @diaryofafan17 @tophats-n-lespauls @witchesdust @jonesyjonesyjonesy @paginate54 @hejustsatisfiess @salixfragilis @princesspagey @reincarnated70sbaby @rebel-without-a-zeppelin @kyunisixx if you want to be added to the list lmk!

[dizzydancingdreamer]

The Friday Night Fight | Reggie Mantle

Hey Lovelies, here’s the first fic I’m moving from my Wattpad! I went through an entire Reggie Mantle phase and this is one of my favourite imagines! I hope you all enjoy!

Description: Y/n and Reggie are best friends and they get into a fight after she falls asleep and forgets they have plans.

Pairing: Reggie Mantle x Not-Quite-Platonic!Female!Reader

Warnings: Angst (not really)

Word count: 1.7k

Tags: angst, FLUFF, just overall an easy read

(not my gif! Also hello I want to do this)

You and Reggie have been best friends since you were born, always next to one another whether that be when causing trouble in Riverdale or taking the accompanying punishment. Partners in crime, that's what the two of you are. It really is the strongest kind of bond. They say there's no honour among thieves but you think it's the exact opposite. There is way more honour among trouble makers than rule followers.

Well, there’s more honour when both trouble makers remember to tell each other when they cancel plans, that is.

So you've been a little busy these days, big deal, right? Pop's has you working overtime for the upcoming town jubilee and your parents are on your heels to keep you grades maintained. You're an excellent student for someone who goes mailbox smashing on occasion! That mixed with the constant hounding from your other friends to loosen up and to hang out with them more almost always leaves you swamped.

All in all, you were tired and honestly forgot to tell Reggie that you wouldn't be able to join him at the drive-in tonight. It’s not that you didn’t want to go, you just fell asleep as soon as your head had hit your pillow, your phone discarded on your dresser. Now look where that landed you.

                                         *     *     *     *     *

"Dude, where are you? I've been waiting for you for like an hour and a half!" 

This is the first thing you hear when you stumble to your phone and pick it up. You aren't even fully awake and someone's already yelling at you.

"What?" Is your only audible response, besides a few swear words that tumble from your tired lips.

You hear an angry sigh from the other end of the phone, "Y/n, we were supposed to go to the drive-in tonight, remember? It's me, Reggie. You know, your best friend? We've been planning this for months, it was the James Bond marathon! I can't believe you forgot. You always do this!"

Now it's your turn to get angry. Where the hell did all of that come from, you always bailing on him? As if! He's the one who's never around because of football! You never complain when he hangs with the guys after promising to go to Pop's or Sweetwater River with you. Where does he come off thinking he's entitled to your time but you aren't entitled to his?

"What the hell, Mantle? As if you never fucking leave me hanging! At least I have a good reason unlike you. 'Sorry, Archie wants to play video games' yeah whatever! So yeah, best friend, I forgot. At least I didn't fucking cancel on you for nothing!" 

You'll regret these words eventually but, thankfully, that time is not now. However, the angry tears pooling in your eyes tell you other wise. You can't believe he would accuse you of ditching him, you've never ditched Reggie! You've been attached at the hip since birth and then later, when he grew taller than you, attached at the hip and stomach.

"So, Reggie, I should go seeing as you obviously don't want to see me because I bail on all our plans." You spit the words into the phone, dragging a hand through your hair and tugging hard.

"Wait, y/n, I didn't mean-"

"Bye."

With that you collapse back onto your bed and quite plainly just cry. Your best friend, the boy you've spent your entire life with and then some, has officially crossed a line. He doesn't do that often. In fact, before this moment, he hasn't done it at all. The two of you rarely fight and when you do it's about nothing. You could almost scream right now!

Tears stream down your face, reddening your nose and staining your cheeks. You miss him, that's the problem with having a best friend whom sneaks into your room every night. You probably won't be able to fall asleep without Reggie's body next to yours. You don't feel weak for missing him minutes after a bad phone call, you crossed that bridge when you got the flu the entire summer and he didn't leave your side once.

You hear a rumble outside your window and roll over, trying to get a better look from your bed. Headlights shine through the glass, bathing your bedroom in an eerie glow. You hear a vehicle door slam and the lights die, leaving you in darkness to watch a sturdy, shadowy figure make its way towards you. You don't need to look at said figure for more than two seconds before you make out Reggie storming towards your window.

Now, you could say that this is all unexpected. That you had absolutely no idea that Reggie would come over in a heated fury. But that would be lying. Reggie and you have never been the type of people to sit on raw emotion and not do anything about it. If you have a problem, you deal with it. You knew as soon as you had hung up that it would only be a matter of time before you saw him. You're just surprised he only took half an hour.

You hear a tap on the glass, "Y/n, let me in."

He wears a leather jacket, the one you got him for his birthday last year. From a distance it looks black but, when you look closer, it's actually a midnight blue. It's fitting now, to wear such a manipulative piece of clothing in the dead of night.

"Why should I, asshole?"

You play with the worn bracelet on your arm; the friendship bracelet he made you five years ago. It's sun faded, your favourite colours having been dulled from years of running all over Riverdale with him. You would bet all the money in your wallet that Reggie has his on right now too. On his left hand, yours on the right, so that when you hold hands the bracelets touch.

"Because we have to talk, sleeping beauty," he puts his left hand against the glass, the equally faded blue and yellow strings peeking out from his cuff. 

You kind of wish you had bet on it now, you would have twenty extra dollars right now.

You grumble at his logic and slide the window open for him to step in through, turning on your bedside lamp to lighten the room up. When you turn back to him you stare at his chest instead of his chocolate eyes. You're not ready for that yet.

"Well talk then, Reg."

"I'm sorry, okay," he reaches a calloused hand out to tilt your head, "I'm sorry for being jerky. I know you don't bail on me dude, I was just jealous. I thought you bailed on me for Archie."

Archie? As in Archie Andrews? You can't stand the red head, especially since he's become the renowned guitar-hero of Riverdale! As if he wasn't bad enough before as the next Jason Blossom, now he carries a song book wherever he goes and sometimes even asks you to listen to one of them. No, Archibald Andrews, you don't want to listen to your newest sappy song. Besides, he isn't exactly a commendable comrade after the whole Betty and Veronica incident.

You sigh quietly, "Reggie, I very strongly dislike Archie. You know that. What's really wrong?"

You finally peer up into his eyes, staring straight into bloodshot pools of regret. Fuck.

"Oh, Reg, what's the matter? If this is because of me yelling at you, you know I can never stay mad at you," you throw your arms around his shoulders which, for the record, isn't easy and he scoops you into him. 

You've always hugged like this, it's comfortable and personal. You wrap your legs around his waist, leaning your head on his shoulder and playing with his hair. Warmth spreads through with ease and you close your eyes.

He started picking you up like this when he was eleven. Other kids were teasing him, calling him weak or something. You can’t quite remember. You knew it was a lie, though, so you told him to pick you up. It was odd timing, especially in the middle of science class, but he did it nonetheless. The two of you played it off like you needed reach something on a tall shelf but Reggie didn't even question you when you asked so it worked out pretty well. As a bonus the other kids in the class were jealous that Reggie Mantle was picking you up.

"Yeah, well, same, but that's not it. I guess I'm just worried that you're gonna find a new me and then I'll just be here and you'll be with the new me. You do realise that I would probably die without you, right?"

You giggle, the events from earlier slowly fading away because of the truth to his statement. Without you he would have gotten in too many accidents to count. That includes that one time in seventh grade when you talked him out of going down the twisty slide on a lunch tray. You had probably spared him a broken leg.

"Yeah but you've saved me from some pretty stupid things as well so don't mention it," namely the tree house incident, the Sweetwater River incident, and that day at Pop's where you almost choked from stuffing too many French fries in your mouth. 

Thank god Reggie's mother made him take CPR courses.

"Still, I'm sorry Y/n."

You squeeze your arms tighter around his football sculpted shoulders, "I forgive you, Reginald."

And with that, the two of you are back to normal. He scoffs and sets you back on your feet, pushing you jokingly and falling onto your bed. You’re heart stutters for just a second as you watch him examine a stuffed bear on your bed. You shake your head quickly. 

"Say, Reg," an idea pops into you head as fast as lightning, "I bet all the money in my wallet Jughead will replay the Bond movies for us!"

[starrybethany]

Clayton Keller: Part 6

Word count: 2252

I groan, stirring against whatever hard surface I’m laying on. Wait, why am I laying on a hard surface and not my bed? My eyes open and I recognize the legs of my dining room chairs before anything else. Did I really sleep on my kitchen floor last night? Why would I do that?

My muscles cry as I lift myself into a sitting position and my head throbs as I rise to my feet. Oh, I passed out while drunk. That’s why.

There’s already a bottle of Tylenol and a glass of water sitting on my kitchen counter, along with a note from Tyler wishing me luck after getting as blacked out drunk as I did. I guess all of the stress got to me last night with the cherry on top being the fight with Clayton that I figured the only way to make it better for a little while would be alcohol.

My muscles and my headache relax significantly as I shower, pulling on some leggings and a baggy sweatshirt, letting my wet hair fall over my shoulders as I gag over some crackers in the kitchen.

My phone is nowhere to be found in this room and I didn’t see it in the bathroom or my bedroom, so I head to the living room to find it. It takes ten minutes but I finally find it in between the pages of a book, which I should have noticed immediately since the width increased immensely.

All I want to do today is sleep and watch movies from the early 2000s, but I grab my backpack and head towards the library knowing I should study for these midterms so I don’t flunk out of this college that I’m oh so desperately trying to afford. It’s not as hard with a paycheck from Clayton, though.

I’m two units deep into my early American literature class when someone slides into the booth across from me. I finish the line I’m reading before looking up, smiling when my eyes meet Paige’s eyes.

I feel bad for leaving her last night, especially just to have a shitty interaction with Clayton. Instead of that I could’ve been comforting my old friend and shoving some more Oreos down her throat.

“I wanted to thank you for being there for me last night. I know we’ve kind of drifted apart, but I’m glad to know that I can always turn to you,” she tells me in a hushed voice.

My chest gets warm at her words. I was feeling so guilty for ditching her but all along she just cherished that I was there in the first place. “You’re welcome, Paige. Andrew’s a douchebag, you know that, right?”

She shrugs. “I’m getting there.”

I turn back to my laptop while she pulls out a notebook, scanning along the pages with her finger. An hour passes before she speaks again.

“So what are you doing Wednesday night?”

I bite my lip in thought. “Probably the same thing I’m doing right now.”

“Well, if you’d like to take a break for a couple of hours, let me know. I got tickets for the Coyotes game against the Blues and I was supposed to take Andrew but-”she shakes her head. “Just let me know by tomorrow if you’d like to go.”

“I’d love to go,” I smile at her. I might not know how hockey works despite the WAGs trying to explain it to me, but I am a woman who loves to see a bunch of hot, grown men sweaty and beating each other up. Plus, Clayton will be playing, and I want to watch and partially understand this time to see what he does that makes him so rich.

“Okay, cool, I’ll pick you up at six. You still live in the same apartment, right?” She asks, packing up her stuff. Some people give her looks as her volume has risen out of excitement, but I ignore them, nodding to her question. “See you then.”

“Bye.”

I watch her leave, pulling out my phone and beginning a text to the hockey player himself.

Hey, sorry for how things went the other night. Just wanted to let you know that a friend and I will be coming to watch your game against the Blues on Wednesday. Score a goal for me.

I hesitate before sending the message. I don’t like to apologize, deep down I know when I should apologize but I tend to not do it because of the issues I have buried within. It isn’t fair for the other person, especially for someone who might as well be putting his name on the check for Debbie, and I identify that it’s an issue that I need to work on.

I click send before I chicken out. I’m afraid of the response- I don’t know if he’ll still be angry with me, or perhaps even more angry- angry enough to cancel our contract or lower my pay.

He responds right away, just asking me where the seats are. I’m a little annoyed at the question, feeling like he should at least acknowledge the apology, but let him know that I have no clue where we’re sitting.

He leaves it at that and I go back to studying.

When Paige texts me details about our hangout on Wednesday night I tell Clayton where our seats are. Section 205, the middle section of the rink on the home side. He gives me a one word answer so I’m still left in the dark of how he feels.

Paige doesn’t own a jersey and neither do I so we just wear nice sweaters and jeans to the rink, unsure of how you exactly should dress for a hockey game. We find our seats and sit down, making small talk as we wait for warmups to begin.

When the players skate onto the ice, everybody cheers in excitement and my eyes find Clayton almost immediately.

It’s electrifying to watch him doing what he loves. He skates with a passion and a purpose, like every step and every move he’s going to make will be better than the last. He lifts his head towards the two hundred section and I lean in to talk into Paige’s ear. “Um, I should probably tell you something.”

She looks at me curiously. “What is it?”

“You see number nine? On the Coyotes?” I try my best to point at him. She nods. “He’s actually my uh, sugar daddy.”

She laughs, raising her eyebrows at me. “Are you kidding?”

I shake my head.

“You have a sugar daddy?”

“I have to pay the tuition somehow,” I defend, surveying her expression.

“I’m not judging,” she quickly reassures me, “That’s very progressive of you. Get that coin, girl.”

I grin at her, returning my attention to the ice. Almost as soon as I do my eyes meet familiar green ones. Green ones that I was looking at the other night while he was telling me that I’m not spending enough time with him.

I see him smile behind his helmet and the pressure from my heart lifts with the action. Thank god he’s not still mad at me. I don’t know why I cared so much anyways- I know he wouldn’t break the contract or pay me less, that’s not the type of guy that he is.

Maybe it’s because I had just a little bit of fear that he would leave. If he left I wouldn’t get to hear his crappy jokes anymore or listen to him talk about Fortnite or ignore Christian’s smirks in the morning as I leave their house.

Clayton maintains eye contact with me, lifting his hand to his ear in a phone motion. My eyebrows furrow in confusion.

“He wants me to call him? Right now? But he’s on the ice right now,” I ask Paige.

He must sense my confusion because he puts his hand in front of him, pointing at it with his finger like he’s pressing different ‘buttons.’

“Oh, he wants me to text him?” I inquire.

“I think he just wants you to watch your phone for when he texts you,” Paige clarifies.

“He’s not good at this whole charades thing,” I giggle, watching all of the players skate around the rink, stretch, and shoot pucks at the net.

They leave the ice and I pull out my phone, waiting patiently for it to ring or vibrate or do whatever the hell Clayton’s going to do.

It vibrates with a text and I open it, immediately rolling my eyes.

Clayton: Stay after the game.

Of course he wants to instantly get back into the argument as soon as I think we’re done. The game starts and hockey is a lot more confusing without help than I thought it would be. I would ask Paige a question and she’d give me an answer of what she thinks the answer is, and when she has a question I return the favor. When we definitely don’t know the answer, we use Professor Google.

The Coyotes win in the end, that much I know, and Paige and I remain in our seats searching up the answers to our questions while we wait for some more communication from Clayton.

A woman appears after a while, leading us downstairs to wait outside the locker room. Some of the players leave the locker room in their suits, giving us curious glances on their way towards their cars.

Christian grins like a cheshire cat as soon as he lands his eyes on me and I roll my eyes, giving his shoulder a shove.

“Oh hey, Y/N. Are you coming over tonight?” He questions, wiggling his eyebrows in a suggestive way. Paige giggles at that and I see Christian’s eyes sparkle at the sound.

“I don’t even know anymore, Christian,” I answer.

“Who’s your friend?” He asks, eyeing Paige with a flirty smile.

She looks shy and I grab her hand, feeling overprotective since she just had a traumatic and recent breakup.

“Out of your league, dude. Get out of here.”

He rolls his eyes but gives us a wave, heading down the hall. “See you at home, Y/N!”

“Sorry about that, Paige,” I apologize to her.

“No, it’s fine, um,” she tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, “He’s actually kind of cute.”

I give her a soft smile. “Just let me know when you’re ready. I can give him your number.”

She nods. The intimate moment is broken as Clayton leaves the locker room, heading our way as soon as he sees us. I introduce the two to each other and the brunette turns to me.

“Are you coming home with me tonight? I won’t be playing Fortnite, don’t worry,” he adds a snarky comment.

I raise my eyebrows at that. “I apologized, okay? Remember when I apologized on Monday and you completely ignored it?”

“Remember how you completely ignored the fact that you’re in a contract to spend time with me?” He retorts.

“I don’t have to spend every second of every day with you, Clay-””Hey, uh, guys? People are starting to stare,” Paige interrupts us worriedly.

I look around. It’s true. Some of the workers and lingering people are so clearly eavesdropping on our argument- well, now they know that Clayton has a sugar baby. Even though I’m shameless, I know better than to continue this argument in a public place.

“Let’s go back to my place,” Clayton nods towards the hallway towards the parking garage.

I turn to look at Paige but she nods at the tall man. “Go, I’ll be fine. Work out whatever you need to work out.”

I give her a gracious smile, falling into step beside Clayton as we head down the hall. “Go to my place, I have some studying to do tonight after this conversation.”

~

Clayton and I sit down after getting back to my apartment, having a conversation where we’re both completely honest with each other and laying out all of our thoughts and emotions. I think we’ve both come to the realization that although we both lead busy lives, we need to make time for each other. However, that doesn’t mean dropping everything at the other’s beck and call.

“Say it,” Clayton gives me a toothy grin.

“I promise to make time for you.” I stick out my pinky finger. “Now you say it.”

“I promise to respect it when you can’t make time for me.” He attaches his pinky finger to mine and we shake on it.

“Okay, now I need to study before we do anything else,” I inform him, grabbing the textbook from the coffee table and pulling it into my lap.

He pulls me across the table into his lap, looking over my shoulder. “What is this?”

“Anatomy,” I answer, trying to find the place I left off at when we left for the game.

“Gross.” He says that but I can feel him reading over my shoulder, even resting his chin on my shoulder to get a better view.

A half an hour passes before Clayton gets antsy, shifting below me and turning his head.

“Okay, time to pay attention to me now,” he declares, pushing the book off of my lap and onto the floor.

“Clayton!” My protests fall on deaf ears as he yanks me below him, hovering over me and pressing his lips onto mine.

I can’t even help but to laugh.

[fics-not-tragedies]

In a Week: Chapter 8 🌲

It’s more like a filler chapter, at least it feels like that to me when I look at the number of words which is quite low but hey, who doesn’t love a good talk while having the lunch?

Words: 1821; Warnings: none, but really, none; Summary: After the encounter in the woods Andrew and Flo are back to their hotel ready for new adventures.

Hozier tag list:

@letoursilencebreaktonight​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @angelpeachamber​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @sgt-morgan​​​​​​​​​​​​​​; @julessbrown​​​​​​​​​​​​​​;

Monday, 11:50am

“So you say that foxes make weird noises?” She was playing with the lunch menu, pinching its ends with her fingers again and again.

“Yes, they basically sound like, em, women screaming” he took another sip from the cup of tea he ordered, desperately trying not to touch her hands.

When the waiter came to take their order, they chose an oversized platter of tiny finger sandwiches - ham, chicken, cheese, then one with double the amount of cheese and some cakes too, little over decorated pieces which seemed too dainty to eat when they arrived.

“I’ll get it” he mumbled, as soon as the waiter placed the cheque.

“No, I’ll get it” she countered, taking a sip from her lemonade.

“Flo…”

“Andy…”

“I don’t need you paying for me.”

“Halves then?” He offered before she could moan at him, knowing he’d never fully win this round.

“Fine.”

Monday, 12pm

After little consideration, Andrew picked up a cheese sandwich between a finger and his thumb - too fancy for him to comprehend, too small for the price they were paying. It was gone in two bites and he was unsatisfied so picked up another and another, wolfing it down with no regard for any possible future indigestion. They ate between polite conversation, surrounded by the sound of splashing from the pool water and quiet chatter from everyone else in the room. Flo chewed gingerly, watching people from where she was sat, occasionally lifting her head back to his gaze and turning away again when he was too much.

After polishing off the sandwiches he’d chosen, the sweetness of the cake distracted Andrew, hungrier than he’d realized and he savored each bite of sugar, licking his lips. Flo tilted her head into her palm, just taking him in, chuckling at how emotive his face was even in the quiet moments. He was busy pondering whether going for a swim in the small pool the hotel had would be the worse idea than skinny dipping in a creek in the dead of the night as he tried not to devour her with his eyes, when she spoke again.

“Do you regret meeting me?” Flo slurped the rest of her lemonade and sighed deeply, like she already knew the quite obvious answer that will fall from his narrow lips in the upcoming few seconds.

“Why would I?” He answered her with another question and she rolled her emerald eyes at him, “I don’t run from boars and climb trees with every girl I meet at the bar” Andrew smiled at her with the kind of smile that weakened her knees.

“It’s quite insane what we did so far…” she sighed again, rubbing her neck. Flo looked up at his face, leaning back in her chair, hoping he’d have something clever to say.

“What, em, you always wanted, but never had the courage to do it?” He asks out of sudden.

One corner of her mouth twitches upwards and she tilts her head to the side, but just a little, “Hmm… dancing. I always wanted to join a dancing class in my town, but I was too frightened to do so.”

“Why?” He leans over the table, his long body towering over the furniture. Andrew gently grazes his fingertips over her wrist and Flo flinched it backwards.

“Because I’m like an elephant in a glass castle.”

Andrew couldn’t help and laughed out loud, brushing the stray strands of his locks away from his face, “You’re a quite gorgeous elephant then, honey.”

She shakes her head at him, her straw hair moving around her head like a permanent halo and in that moment Andrew feels like he just found his own little angel, here in the middle of the woods.

“I shouldn’t even try to dance… I’d end up crushing people’s toes and probably like breaking few mirrors in the dance studio.”

“Oh love…” he laughs again, probably after picturing her trying to crush his toes with her tiny little feet, “I, em, I know one dancer myself.”

“A dancer?” Her eyebrow rises and she moves with her chair closer to the table.

“Yes, I did one music video with Sergei Polunin and-”

He wasn’t given the chance to finish his sentence, because Flo interrupted him quite violently with her high pitched voice, “Sergei Polunin?! You know Sergei Polunin?”

“Well, em, he’s a really nice guy” he said, giving her a little smile.

Monday, 12:30pm

“I’ve got another question for you, honey” he announced.

“Go on then” Flo sighed, intrigued.

“Where do you want to be in five years from now?

Flo tried to engage her brain, tried to think of an answer worthy of his question and one she would feel comfortable saying out loud. If someone ever asked her that question at the beginning of her adult live, she’d probably come up with many various things. A promotion, perhaps an engagement in the near future, the possibility of starting a small business on her own, a better place to live than the one she already had. But now all those things were irrelevant; she got that promotion, her boyfriend still wasn’t existing, she didn’t have enough funds to open that store on her own and she didn’t wanted to live at all now.

“I’m not… sure…” she sighed truthfully, needing just to say something to ease the anxiety bubble blowing inside her, “I- I thought I knew. But now, it’s…”

“Now it all changed?” He replied, soft, his eyes locked with hers.

“Yeah…” she said quietly, “everything is different.”

Andrew mulled it over for a second, trying to know what she feels now, what she’s thinking about now, but he was clueless what was the reason behind her coming to this god forsaken hotel in the middle of nowhere.

“Do you want to know what, em, I think?”

“Always.”

He wet his lips then spoke again, “Make a new list, really, em… just take out everything on the old one and, em, start over with whatever you want.”

She bit her lip focusing. What did she want?

She’d previously wished for a promotion - but she already got that. Then there was the engagement. An obvious one to throw in the bin. How could she even dream of starting a family when she had no one to start it with? And anything would be better than the apartment she currently still owned, but it was overly haunted with the ghosts of her past.

And then she considered what she really wanted.

More time to work on her hobbies, to become better in drawing. Perhaps to see more of the world. Finish all the creative projects she started, but never really had the time to finish them. To bake more cakes… She tried to form few cohesive sentences, but her reply wasn’t quite as sophisticated as she would’ve wanted it to be.

“Maybe in five years I’ll have traveled a bit more? Drew more pictures? I’ll find a hobby that excites me? Have more nights being drunk without worrying about the next morning?” She paused for a second, avoiding his eyes, so she could stare at the wall behind him, “I want to be shamelessly happy - and really feel it.”

He smiled, couldn’t help himself, felt his heart swell with pride at how much stronger she was since he’d first spoken to her and he was busy crafting a reply along those lines when she interrupted his train of thought.

“What about you, Andrew?”

It was stupid of him to assume that she wouldn’t ask, but the same question thrown back at him was a shock. He felt frustrated, unprepared.

A couple more albums? Maybe one fully acoustic? Another world tour? More time to rest? To focus on his own needs? Find his safe haven?

Andrew was so used to have everything mapped out, a response for every question, but he didn’t know how to put it in words now that she was asking. The pause was too long. Too uncertain.

“I just want to be, um, equally happy with my career and my personal life. If I really have one now…” he drawled, “I want to keep working on my music and, um, meeting amazing new people, rediscover myself somehow.”

“Rediscover yourself?” Flo asked him, her emerald eyes back and focused on his face.

That small smile that never left his lips when he was around her was too tempting, too inviting for her and she desperately tried to fight off the urge to lean over the table, move her body closer to him and just simply give in to the thought of feeling his mouth pressed closer to hers.

“Know who I really am, since I’m, em, quite far from that right now…”

Monday, 1:40pm

“So, what’s next?” She asked, her eyes full of inquisition and curiosity, looking at him like she just read his mind. He smiled warmly, pushed his fingers through his hair for good measure then pulled her into his side, his arm slinking around her, hand cupping her waist to hold her against him as they walked together. His fingers brushed against the fabric.

He pressed his lips close to her ear and murmured: “Tell me something you’ve never done, Flo Hayes.”

“Oh, not again…”

Monday, 1:45pm

“So you really never smoked a cigarette?” He asked, eyes wide, like he just seen a little green man in front of him.

“Never ever” Flo replied with a shrug, meeting his eyes as she tilted her head upwards to look at him. They were still in the corridor on their way back from the restaurant, linked together like old friends, his hand wound around her hip to keep her close. She watched him watch her as they walked, loved the curiosity in his eyes then added sarcastically: “Why? Do I look like a dirty smoker, Andrew?”

“Em, no, it’s just… I wasn’t expecting, I…” Andrew spluttered, never ready for her responses. She was so quick sometimes that it took him off guard, “you just look like someone who, em, tried many things in her life…”

“Is it my sweater? Well we both know that’s not true…”

Andrew rolled his eyes which prompted a laugh. He knew she was so much more interesting than she pretended to be, that she liked to portray her life as quiet and boring, but there were so many things about her that excited him - her passion, her drive, all her little secrets she kept so close, how well she held herself in every situation. He did like how in control she was but he also knew that there was so much more underneath the enigma she still was to him. He had a feeling that if he could just get her to relax a little more, push past that top layer of insecurity, then she would finally realize how wonderful she really was.

[indigosandviolets]

Flashes of Pain

Pairing: Joseph Liebgott x OC x George Luz

Summary: The Battle at Nuenen takes place, and memories come back to haunt Andrew. Andrew and Luz are interrupted by a promotion, and Babe needs to get something out.

Word Count: 2,287

TW: Flashbacks, gore, f-slur is used

Part Nine of We Happy Few

Nuenen, Holland

Andrew was still reeling from what happened at Eindhoven as they all sat on the tanks, riding into Nuenen. Andrew wasn’t sure when they had arrived in Eindhoven, maybe it was during...yeah. It was probably during that.

He had stayed particularly close to Luz, resisting the urge to lean his head on the older man’s shoulder. It was so tempting, the need to be comforted, but he instead sat beside him, staring out into the fields as the tanks seemed to crawl across the countryside road.

“Vincent van Gogh was born in Nuenen,” Andrew hears Luz say.

“Where’d you learn that?” Andrew asks in response.

“Webster.”

“Ah, Harvard.”

Andrew and Luz share a small laugh. “What did he even study, anyway?”

Andrew shrugs. “I don’t know. He doesn’t seem like a lawyer, but that’s the only thing that can come to my mind when I think about --”

Andrew cuts himself off as they pass a woman on the side of the road. She’s barely dressed, her hair shaved off, cradling a baby in her arms. The lump is back, but Luz grabs onto Andrew’s arm, grounding him. Andrew looks over to him, and Luz mouths out, “Breathe, you’re okay.”

Andrew nods and does as he’s told, and before he knows it they’ve passed the woman. He’s calm again, and almost back to his normal self. The tanks slow to a halt as this happens, and Andrew turns to look out at the road, past the tank in front of him. He can’t see too much, but he does see someone walking out, looking through binoculars into Nuenen.

“What’s going on?” Luz aks quietly. Andrew shakes his head in response.

“I don’t know, something happened.”

As Andrew lets out the words, he hears Bull call out, “Lieutenant!” He turns to look at Bull, dropping his binoculars so they hang down, but as he does so, he’s hit in the neck just as Andrew recognizes him as Lieutenant Brewer.

“Shit!” Andrew says, looking out into the field and away from Brewer. He can’t see anything.

“What?” Luz asks. “What happened?”

“Lieutenant Brewer got hit!” Andrew answered, moving his gun down, getting ready to fire. “Sniper.”

“Shit!” Luz repeats, and soon enough they’re off the tank and in the ditches, ready to fight. “How did Brewer get hit? How the hell could a sniper get him?”

“I have no idea!” Andrew tells him. “I just saw him go down!”

“Then where the hell is the sniper?”

“I don’t know!”

Andrew, for one, hated ditch fighting. It wasn’t that it was messy, he could care less about that, but it was that he felt like a sitting duck. At any point, a kraut could run up and mow down a platoon before anyone had a chance to react. Or, maybe, a mortar could hit the ditch and they’d lose at least fifteen guys, on the spot.

Then again, it did provide them cover from an enemy they couldn’t see, so what could he do?

Andrew moved out with Buck, pulling around the town as they clearly couldn’t enter the way they all had planned unless you were inside one of the tanks. The mission was to take Nuenen, and dammit, they were going to do it.

Buck had them behind a brick wall, firing at the Germans they could at least see. They were held up everywhere in the town -- barns, houses, sheds, bushes, everything. Andrew fired with his M-1, standing by Buck as he shouted out orders to the men he was in command of.

“Marin, grenade, eleven o’clock!” Buck shouted, and Andrew complied, unhooking the grenade from himself and taking out the pin before throwing it. The blast wasn’t that big, but it was enough to take back the kraut whose feet it landed at.

And while it did take back one kraut, more kept coming. For every German they took out in this town, two more seemed to replace it. Andrew never thought that he would admit it, but for the first time, he actually felt like there might be too many to take on.

Mainly children and old men my ass, Andrew thought to himself as he fired. Better than ditch fighting.

Andrew felt the air of a bullet that whizzed past him and into the ground just behind him. He looked back to the front of him, to a building that he thought they had already taken out. Andrew moved his aim to a window, looking through to see two krauts inside. It was like he was making eye contact with them.

He’s just a kid! He’s just a kid and I fucking killed him, Luz!

Andrew lowered the M-1, the memories of D-Day suddenly flooding through his mind. He shook his head, trying to clear it as he again focuses on the two Germans.

He wasn’t even going to shoot us! He’s just a kid!

“Marin, fire!” He heard Buck shout.

Andrew knew these two were armed, though. They were going to kill him and Buck and Guarnere and everyone they could hit. He fired, despite the protest in his mind. One German, two Germans down and he was back at the attacking Germans.

To put it simply, there were too many of them. Far too many. So, that meant that Easy had to pull out. As they were doing so, though, Andrew realized that his Lieutenant wasn’t anywhere that he could see.

“Buck?” Andrew called out. “Buck!”

“Just go, Marin!” Someone said, but he couldn’t quite identify who. Something was wrong, and he couldn’t see Buck. “Marin, move!”

Reluctantly, Andrew turned away from the town, pulling back. He could feel the pit of uncertainty grow in his stomach as he continued to search. Maybe Buck had moved quickly and was already with the others, but as Andrew looked and couldn’t see the tall blonde man, that pit only grew bigger as he began to panic.

“Andrew!” A familiar voice said, and he turned to see Luz in full radio-op mode. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t find Buck,” Andrew says. “He was right there with me when we were pulling out, and he’s gone. I don’t know where the hell he is.”

“It’s okay, they’re gonna get him, don’t worry about it,” Luz tells him as they begin to climb up into the trucks. “What about you, were you hit?”

Andrew shook his head. “No, no I’m okay, it’s just Buck that’s worrying the hell out of me.” The helmet. Glassy eyes. The blood, spilling from his mouth. But it’s not the young soldier anymore, it’s Buck and Andrew can’t move, he’s killed him. Buck is dead and it’s his fault. “What about you?”

“Just fine.”

-

The reason as to why Andrew couldn’t find Bull was because he had gotten shot in the ass, the bullet going through and out his skin twice, meaning he had four total wounds. Another contributor to Andrew feeling like something was wrong was that they had lost Bull, but Andrew refused to believe he was dead. No one believed that he was dead, they couldn’t. Bull was a mentor, one of the wisest figures that Easy Company had ever seen.

And, being Bull, he wasn’t dead. He had been injured and survived a night in Nuenen in a barn surrounded by krauts. Even killed one of them, all with shrapnel in his back.

Officially retreating from Nuenen, though, meant that Market Garden had been a failure, simply put. There was no way around not addressing it like it was. They had lost men, more men they would’ve liked, and lost hold of a line they had been trying hard to start, to try and push back the Germans into their own land.

Andrew came to terms with this as he sat beside Luz, a cup of coffee in hand.

“We’re not gonna be home by Christmas,” Andrew says out loud. “I was getting excited, too.”

Luz shrugs. “Not so bad, it’s not a guarantee that we’re gonna be fighting on Christmas.”

“I know, I know, but it would’ve been nice to spend it back home,” Andrew says, drinking from his cup. “Would’ve been nice to turn twenty-three without being shot at.”

“What makes you so lucky?” Luz says, nudging Andrew’s shoulder. “If I had to suffer, so do you.”

Andrew chuckles. “You know I didn’t mean anything like that,” Andrew tells him. “Plus, I got you a good birthday.”

“It wasn’t that good,” Luz says. “You were injured.”

“You didn’t worry over me too much, at least I didn’t let you.”

“You were still injured.”

“And I’m still missing a piece of my ear, but here we are.”

Luz pauses, thinks, and then laughs. He’s laughing and laughing, harder and harder, enough for Andrew to ask him what it was about.

“Your ear is in the middle of France, and someone’s gotta find it sometime,” Luz barely gets out. “I just--the poor kid who finds a chunk of the ear is going to be scared shitless when he finds that shit.”

Andrew didn’t understand what was so funny about it, it was only an ear. Not even a whole one.

“Luz, you amaze me sometimes.”

Luz immediately stopped laughing. “What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, nothing,” Andrew replies. “Nothing bad, at least.”

“How very reassuring. The man I love won’t tell me what makes me so damn amazing after he doesn’t laugh.”

Andrew chuckles, and pauses. Oh, oh shit. “Luz?”

“Yeah?”

“You love me?”

Luz hesitates. “Uh, shit, I did say love, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, yeah you did.”

“Oh, fuck,” Luz says, leaning over and crossing his body to kiss Andrew, who doesn’t protest in the slightest. “I meant it.”

Andrew nods. “I, uh-“

“You don’t have to say anything, Andrew. It’s okay.”

“No, Luz-“

“Marin!”

Andrew sighs and stands up, looking back to Luz and mouthing, “Sorry,” before heading in the direction he was called. It was Winters who wanted him.

“Yes, sir?” Andrew asks, moving to stand at attention, but Winters motions for him to cut it out.

“It’s okay, Marin, you don’t have to.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Sink has, well, upper command has been impressed with you recently.”

“Sir?”

“You’re being promoted to technician corporal.”

Andrew nodded, slightly shocked. “What did I do to get that?”

Winters pauses. “Marin, you’re one of the best shots we have. I’m surprised you’re not a sniper yet, but I can’t change that, now can I?”

“I’m sorry, sir, but I’ve just been doing my job,” Andrew says.

“And you’ve been doing a good job at it,” Winters says, handing over the new chevrons. “You know, Marin, I never took you to be so humble.”

“Can I ask why, sir?”

“Not a lot of men are, as I’m sure you’re aware.”

“It is hard to be humble, sir.”

Winters chuckles a little bit. “That’ll be all, Marin.”

Andrew nods, stands at attention, and they salute each other before Andrew leaves, rubbing the new patch over with his fingers.

-

“Andrew?”

Andrew looked up from his stitching. He was halfway through putting on his patch when he saw that it was Babe who was standing at the end of his bed, a stark contrast from the usual Liebgott or Luz.

“Hey, Babe, what’s going on?”

“I, uh, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Andrew sighed, immediately knowing what it was. He motioned for Babe to sit down, and he did, as Andrew stuck his needle through the patch to hold it in place.

“Uh, before the drop, when I went to the bathroom,” Babe starts. “Did you...what I saw, were you and Liebgott…?”

“Yes, we were, uh, making out.”

Babe nods. “Are you and Liebgott together?”

Andrew had to think for a moment. “I, uh, I’m not sure, to be honest with you. We haven’t really talked about it.” We haven’t even gotten close to talking about it.

Babe nods again. “Have you two, y’ know-”

“No, Babe, we haven’t. We haven’t gotten that far.”

“But how long have you and Liebgott been doin’ that?”

“D-Day, before we dropped.”

Babe’s eyes go wide. “Who else knows?”

“No one, and we’re gonna keep it like that, alright?” Andrew hadn’t realized he had started pointing to Babe, almost aggressively. “The only people who need to know are me and Lieb. You just happened to walk in at the right time.”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, it’s just I never seen anything like that before, alright?” Babe says. “I mean, I’ve heard of people like you but I haven’t exactly heard good things about them.”

“You’re from Philly, Babe, you don’t exactly hear good things about anybody.”

Babe rolls his eyes. “Andrew, I’m just, I don’t know how to process it all, is what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Why’s that?”

Babe sticks his tongue into his cheek, thinking for a moment before speaking. “I haven’t really seen, uh, what’s the word?”

“Fairies?”

“Yeah. Well, I’ve seen them, but I haven’t seen them in the army. Never even thought about it.”

“Let me know if you find a few more.”

“Andrew.”

“Sorry.”

“The last time I saw someone like you and Liebgott, it wasn’t pretty.” Andrew nodded slowly. “I just, uh...I’m worried is all, I guess.”

“You don’t have to worry about me and Lieb, Babe. I think we’ll be just fine.”

Babe nods and stands up, turning to leave, but he stops and looks back at Andrew. “We’re not gonna tell anyone about this, yeah?”

Andrew nods, picking up his needle again. “About what?” He replies. Babe smiles at him and leaves.

Lord, give me the strength to deal with whatever the hell I’ve gotten myself into.

-

tag list: @alienoresimagines @fromcrossroadstoking @easyroses

[borhapparker]

fast and furious | prologue/teaser

a/n: it has been long-awaited, i know! i’ve been posting the characters and their backstories, but this has been anticipated! i’ve always been a big fan of action movies, and the “fast and furious” series is a favorite (close second to mission impossible, not gonna lie). anyway, i really hope you guys enjoy this teaser, i made it extra long so it would hopefully hype up some anticipation for the first chapter!! please reblog and spread it so more people can read the series! enjoy lovelies! (:

series masterlist  |  full masterlist  |  series playlist

The walkie talkies hooked to their jeans sparkled to life as everyone reached for their respective radios.

“Team meeting in the garage, ten minutes. He’s back.” 

Blythe looked up from her phone at the counter, locking eye contact with Jace, who had been cleaning the stove in the kitchen. In the garage, Sebastian quickly began putting his tools away, Primrose rolling out from under the red Buick she had been fixing. Parker walked out from her office, hooking her walkie back on her jeans as she helped put everything away.

Back in the diner, Jace and Blythe wiped down tables and countertops, sweeping the floor and cleaning the kitchen before Jace flicked the closed sign on the door, following Blythe to the garage, where the other three were waiting for them.

“Where is he?” one asked as the others shrugged.

The door of the entrance opened as Andrew walked inside and their faces lit up. One by one, they walked over to embrace him as he smiled.

“So?” Parker asked him as he unravelled plans and blueprints to the local police station. “How?”

“I have my ways.” Andrew winked, before pointing to a direct room on the page. “Here’s the safe.”

“What kind?” Jace spoke up as Andrew looked over before handing him the outline for the safe. Looking down at the papers, his eyes widened. “Woah, okay.”

“You can crack it, right?” Parker asked as he nodded his head.

“Yeah,” he paused, before smirking, “I think so.”

Parker turned to Andrew, “Anything else you overheard?”

He nodded, pointing at the gates surrounding the police station, “They have someone outside watching every hour. Whoever is outside is there for fifty minutes. So we have exactly ten minutes to go in without them seeing us or raising suspicion.”

“How possible would it be to drive five cars into the station, hook up the safe and steal it within ten minutes?” Primrose asked.

Andrew spoke up, arms crossed over his chest as he furrowed his eyebrows, “Virtually impossible. There’s no way.”

“Way to boost morale, Foster.” Blythe joked as everyone chuckled. “You know us, we can do anything. I might have a plan for this, actually.”

“Let’s hear it,” said Parker as Blythe nodded, leaning over the blueprints and pointing.

“We would need to do this in sections and one person at a time. First, we need cars. Fast ones. Preferably small ones, the ones we use to race would be perfect. They would need adjustments, but I think we can have those done.” She made eye contact with Seb who nodded in confirmation, “We’re going to need guns, ammo, and someone on the inside. Once we get inside the station, it can take us five minutes to hook the cars onto the safe, and if possible, it can easily take us eight minutes to get out and get onto the highway back to the garage.”

Everyone brewed over the plan, as Parker nodded.

“I can get us cars.” Primrose said, as Parker nodded.

“Only the best, Rose.” Jace called out as she winked at him with a nod.

“I”ll fix up the cars for us,” Seb contributed, already looking through his blueprints of past car models.

“I’ll get the guns for the team, are there preferences?” Jace wrote down the preferred guns before grabbing his phone and making a call.

“We each have our assignments, we each know what to do.” Parker said, as everyone nodded, “Remember that to pull this off we need to work together. If anyone has any problems, let Jace know immediately. Everyone clear?”

Nods were seen all around the room as they dispersed, beginning to work. Parker motioned with a nod of her head at Seb, as he followed her to her office, before closing the door behind him.

“What’s wrong?” Seb asked, as Parker rubbed her hands over her face, her back facing him before she turned.

“Could this go wrong?” she asked him as Seb furrowed his eyebrows and crossed his arms over his chest.

“How so?”

“I mean, we’ve never pulled something like this off before. Breaking into a police station? That’s risky and we could get caught.”

“Alright, alright, stop.” he paused as she frowned, “Parker, you’ve got the best street racing team in all of Los Angeles. You guys have always been able to pull off the most risky jobs in all of LA, so go through with it. We’ll be okay.”

She nodded, a shaky breath escaping her lips as she rubbed her clammy hands together. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right. We’ll be fine. Jace always plans our races really well, knows enough about programming to crack a safe and can get us some good guns. Blythe can get us in and out really well. I know you can get the cars ready so we’re good on that aspect. Rose always gets us our cars, especially my Nissan. We’ll be fine, right?” she sounded very unsure as Seb walked over, placing his hands on her arms and rubbing in a comforting manner.

“Everything is going to be fine.” he said with a smile as she nodded, “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I’ve gotta go and start getting materials for when we get the cars, but if you need me, you know where I’ll be.”

She nodded as he left her office, heading to his workspace. Parker sighed, before sitting in her chair and placing her head in her hands.

-

“Seb, Blythe and Jace, I need your help.” Primrose called out as they nodded, leaving what they were working on at their work station before going to join her outside, where she perched on her car, a red 1982 Buick Riviera Convertible.

“What’s up?” Blythe asked as the rest stood around, eyes on Primrose.

Primrose crossed her arms over her chest, “I have the cars for us, I need help driving them back to the garage.”

“Where are they?” Jace furrowed his eyebrows, mirroring her stance. “Don’t we need more people to get a car for each person?”

“I’ve got that taken care of. They’re an hour away at an airfield. You guys in?”

They nodded, as they piled into her car and she drove off, heading to an airfield where the cars had been shipped in. She parked her Buick, as everyone piled out, sunglasses on as they all looked at the cars hidden underneath a sheet of cloth, parked and ready to take home.

��Blythe, yours is the first. Jace yours is next to Blythe’s. Seb, your car is the fourth.” Primrose explained as she crossed her arms, a smile on her face.

Blythe stepped up first, as she headed to the first car, pulling the cloth off as she gasped with a smile. “Oh, hell yeah.” A gorgeous yellow Mitsubishi Evolution X was uncovered, as Blythe trailed a hand over the hood as everyone walked to their own cars, uncovering them and smiling.

“Fuck yeah. Thanks Rose.” Jace called out, as he admired his own car, a white Mazda MX-5 Miatra 2016.

Seb did the same, a blue 64 Pontiac Catalina. They whistled at his car as he smirked in response, looking up at Primrose.

“The other cars?” he asked as she nodded her head, Blythe uncovers a car as Jace helped with the others.

They uncovered two, a blue 1970 Dodge Charger, and a red Nissan GT-R.

“How long will it take you to make the adjustments?” Primrose asked Seb as he crossed his arms.

“Two days, give or take. I will need some help.”

Jace smiled, “I think we’ve got that covered.”

Primrose nodded her head over, as they nodded, “Let’s go. We have work to do.”

They piled into their respective cars, two other acquaintances of Primrose’s coming over and piling into the Dodge Charger and the Nissan GT-R. THe cars’ engines roared to life as they drove away, following Primrose all the way home.

-

“Car check. Call it in.”

“Check” / “Check” / “All clear here”

“Let’s go, then. We’ve got a job to finish.”

Engines revved up as the cars raced through the streets, civilians watching as expensive and gorgeous cars drove past them. Colors lined the streets, reds and yellows blinding eyes as blues and reds contrasted the dull streets. Nothing could beat the adrenaline coursing through their veins as they gripped the steering wheels. Smiles were adorned on their faces, before they changed gears and took a sharp left into an alley.

“Who’s first?”

“Foster, you’re up.”

He smiled as he changed his grip from 5 and 7 to 10 and 2, rolling his shoulders and stepping on the gas, accelerating ahead of everyone else and driving straight through the security check point at the police station. Screams of shock and fear were heard as he plummeted through the entrance, shattering glass doors and windows, before appearing on the other side. He shifted gears, making a sharp turn as his car made a 180. His hand reached for the stick shift as he changed again and sped off, driving around the station and joining the rest of the crew.

“Love? Your turn.”

“Got it.”

A red Nissan GT-R plummeted through the concrete wall of the station, the safe unguarded as she stepped on the brakes and jumped out of the car, quickly unraveling her hooks from the back and strapping them onto the safe’s handles. It was a big safe, weighing almost 50 pounds as she wrapped both hooks around before being joined by another member of the team. He got out, flashing her a smile as he did the same.

From her peripheral vision, she noticed an officer had pulled a gun, as she pulled out her own handgun and shot him twice, before her teammate nudged her and they both jumped into their cars.

“Love, Riley, are you both ready?”

“Ready.”

“On my count. Three.. two.. one.. fire!”

They stepped down on the gas pedal, as the strength from both cars quickly came into effect, the safe moving out of the station, the hooks dragging the safe behind both cars. She hollered in joy, knowing the plan had worked as they worked together to navigate and control the safe based on their speed. It took them a couple seconds to get used to it, but they began driving at 80 miles per hour on the streets, passing cars quickly moving out of the way to let the two cars and a giant safe pass them by.

Some weren’t lucky, either getting hit or run over by the cars as they attempted to flee. The rest of the team had joined them, each car taking their place to guard the safe from the officers tailgating them.

“We need to get this thing out of here fast!”

“Stick to the plan, Allen is waiting for both of you back at the garage.”

“Split up!”

They did as they heard, each of them taking a different street to head back as Love and Riley stayed on the same street, their speed matching each others  and the safe covering the swarm of bullets coming from the officers’ guns. Riley looked over at Love as she nodded before they both made a sharp right, the safe moving in their general direction and crashing straight into three police cruisers. Two were left following behind, as they neared the garage.

Out of nowhere, a car came from their right, as Riley turned, locking eye contact with the driver and nodding. A hand was extended out of the driver’s window as a handgun was in place. The driver’s finger curled into the trigger and began firing at the officers, both cars speeding out of control as they managed to lose their tail and finished their drive, heading into the closed garage with the safe in tow.

Riley and Love parked their car, the safe behind both cars as they got out and high-fived each other. Jace Allen, another racer on the team, walked over to them, as he nodded before heading straight to the safe and connecting his laptop to the motherboard. He typed away, as everyone watched, before the safe unlocked.

Placing the laptop on the ground, he grabbed the handles of the safe, before pulling. Gasps were heard throughout the room as piles of money fell from the safe, easily making them billionaires.

Love cheered, turning and hugging those around her.

“We fucking did it, I can’t-” Parker began as she was cut off by her phone ringing.

Everyone watched as she slipped her phone out of her pocket, answering the call.

“Parker? Oh my god, oh god, I need your help. Shit, I messed up big time. Parker, I’m in trouble. There’s this new guy, new racer I think, his name is Cameron Maverick. I kinda pissed him off, I was involved in a job and I stole from this lad and now he’s after me. Fuck, I need you guys to come and find me. I’m in London. Please come quick. Call me as soon as you get here, I don’t think I have much time. They’ve got my sister, they’ve got her. Please, get the team, I can get you guys some cars. Just get here, now.”

The call cut off as Parker looked up to the rest of the team. Her hands lightly shook as she tried to keep her composure the best she could.

“Guys? I have something to tell you.”

-

tags:  (send me an ask if you’d like to be added!)

@darling-marvel @tc5322 @starksparker @fanboy-tom @hollandroos @pbnjparker @boohooiamthefool​ @fanasiana 

[shawnpetermuffins]

Disney Daze

A/n: This took forever to write just because of who I am as a person and I had like 0 motivation. But I'm back and ready to write. I really like this concept, so I hope the story does it justice.

Summary: They call it the happiest place on earth. Shawn and y/n think other wise.

Warnings: fluff and lots of it, slight mentions of smut.

***

Shawn looks down at you, his girlfriend, his hands tangled in yours. She's beautiful, he thinks to himself. You're standing next to him, sunglasses shielding your y/e/c eyes - they're his favorite place to get lost. You've been together for two years, and he'd been touring the majority of that time, so when he finally got some "time off" he took you with him to California.

Of course you had hoped it would be just the two of you on this little adventure, but would never admit that because he wants to see his friends too. And lucky for you, you're good with his team, so having them tag along wasn't all bad. Except for when Shawn got a little more handsy than he usually would and the guys would point it out by making more sexual jokes than you'd like. Neither of you are shy about the aspects of your relationship by any means; his friends and team use that against you though and love to make fun. They don't mean it maliciously, though and you both know that.

"You're undressing her with your eyes, Shawny boy," Teddy said, pulling the bill of his cap over his eyes. "I don't blame you though."

You laugh and fix his sunglasses while he pushes his hat back in place, "Oh Teddy, you're making me blush. I don't think your fiance will approve." You say just loud enough for Emily to hear. She was able to take a break from her busy filming schedule to join you guys.

"Oh, I approve. You're a cutie."

You shake your head, "Oh, you've got major competition now, bubs."

He hummed and pulled you closer. "They can look all they want. As long as I'm the one undressing you later tonight."

"Play your cards right and you just might get lucky," you said, wrapping your arms around his torso while you walked, making you both kind of slow down a little because the angle was all wrong, but neither of you wanted to let go. He hummed and kissed the top of your head.

"Where to first?" Josiah asked, but you two weren't paying much attention. You were so caught up in the proximity of each other that you couldn't focus on anything outside of your arms length - which just so happen to still be around each other. "Carsland it is!" He said after some discussion from the group. "Maybe we need partners. I'll be with y/n!" He exclaimed. That caught Shawn's attention.

"Over my dead body. She's my partner."

"Oh, so you can hear?" Andrew teased. "Good to know." He patted Shawn's shoulder. "Come on. We're going to Carsland."

"Wasn't Niall supposed to come with us?" You asked as you made your way deeper into the park. "Should we have waited for him at the entrance?"

Shawn shook his head, "He got tied up at the studio. Said he couldn't make it."

You got stopped only a handful of times on your way to the Cars, and that's probably the least amount he's ever been stopped in public with you. But neither of you minded the interruptions.

Shawn took you on nearly every ride - Radiator Springs Racers twice because he wanted to ride in both cars, took you into every store, begging to buy you something even though he'd already bought you more than you needed at the first store you went to. "They all have the same stuff," you shrugged, taking the change from his hand so you could do the penny press. "Really, bubs, I don't need anything else. I just want to make the pennies." You know he rolled his eyes from behind those glasses that covered his beautiful eyes far too well.

"There you guys are!" Teddy exclaimed when she finally found you in the corner of the shop. "Figures I'd find you making out in a corner."

"It's hard to make out when his hat literally hits my forehead every time he leans down to kiss me," I point out. Shawn chuckles and rests his hands on my waist.

"Why were you looking for us? We haven't been gone five minutes. We would have caught up." Shawn mumbled as we walked out into the blinding California sun.

"You've been gone twenty minutes. We started thinking you finally got mobbed." Finally, you giggled, as if it was an event that everyone knew would happen eventually. "Figured we would have to send out a rescue team here pretty soon."

"Well we're fine. No need to worry."

---

It was nearing three when you guys made your way over to the Disneyland side of the park.

"Look, babe!" You nodded to your right. "It's Belle!"

He hummed, "there's not a long line. You want to take a picture?"

"Only if you take one with me."

"Course I will. Josiah, will you take our picture?"

"That's what I do, man." He took Shawn's phone while we got in line.

"God, you're fucking beautiful," Shawn muttered to himself when he looked through all the photos you've taken together today. You and the team were all sitting in a shaded area, rehydrating after having walked for hours upon hours. You and him, however, didn't seem to be slowing down. He had managed to take you on another few rides, except for the really tall ones like splash mountain; you were on the verge of tears when he suggested it. So instead he took you to ride the tea cups - three times. He was currently rewatching the video he took of you spinning the cup around, giggling and just genuinely having a great time. He loved seeing you this way. Carefree and vibrant. It wasn't often that you let this side of you out and he knew that, making sure to bask in every moment where you didn't have a single care in the world.

Your chin rested on his shoulder, water bottle nearly empty in your hand. "Have I told you yet that I think you look very handsome today?" You pressed a soft kiss to the shell of his ear and heard him take in a breath.

"No. But thank you." His hand found your free one and he brought it to his lips for a quick kiss, and even though you wanted to keep your hands joined, his were starting to clam up and they were way too hot for you to hold them comfortably. "And have I told you yet that I'm so desperately in love with you?"

You thought it over, "Only like three times since we sat down," you teased.

"Haha, very funny." He booped the tip of your nose. "I'm still gonna tell you again. I love you. I mean it. I really, really do."

You hummed and leaned in to press a quick kiss to his cheek "I love you, too, rockstar." His hand rested on the back of yout head and he smoothly brought you to his lips, kissing you nice and slow, a soft gasp eliciting your mouth when his teeth sunk in your bottom lip.

"Hey!" Andrew threw an empty water bottle at the two of you, "We're in public! Keep it in your pants, maybe?" He said as you separated from your boyfriend, your face feeling hot.

Shawn shook his head, laughing, placing his tattooed hand on your thigh. "They're never allowed to come anywhere with us ever again."

"Definitely not," you agreed.

---

The walk back to the car consisted of Shawn running around aimlessly with you on his back and you laughing uncontrollably into his shoulder.

"Why were we never that cute?" You heard Teddy ask Emily when Shawn set you down and just as quickly picked you back up bridal style and once again started running around like a maniac.

"It's ten o'clock! Calm down, eh?" Andrew suggested.

Shawn ignored him and placed a chaste kiss on your neck. "Come on, Andrew. You never been in love before?" He asked, finally putting you back on the ground, but keeping hold of your hand and spinning you around once, pulling you back to his chest so that you were walking - stumbling, would be a more accurate description - synchronously.

Once back to the hotel, you all went separate ways. Andrew and Josiah went up to bed, Teddy and Emily went to the bar, and you and Shawn went to the pool after changing into your bathing suits. "Hey," he whispered into your hair while you walked casually against the edge of the pool.

Your eyes fluttered open to look at your beautiful boy. "Hmm?" Your hands found purchase in his curls.

He reached out and grabbed the back of youd thighs, and you wrapped them around his waist. "Thank you for today." He pressed a soft kiss to your temple and slowly started trailing them down to the base of your throat.

"I had fun," you managed to breathe out before his teeth grazed your collar bone. "Oh," you moaned softly.

"You looked beautiful today. Couldn't take my eyes off you." His kisses trailed even lower and his hands slipped under the strings of you top.

"Really?" You giggled. "I hadn't noticed."

"I want you," he murmured into your chest, slickly untying your top.

You squealed and hit his arm, "Babe! We're in public!"

He looked around at the completely empty poolside, "Oh yeah, people are definitely gonna say something." His hands cupped your breasts and your eyes closed at the contact.

"Shawn, please," you said into his neck.

"You wanna go to the room?" He asked, his left hand inching it's way to your bikini bottoms.

You gulped and nodded when his fingers met your unexposed skin. "Now, please."

---

Breathing heavily, he pressed a gentle kiss to your lips as climbed off him. "Thank you, baby. So good to me."

You could only hum in response. Catching your breath, you found his hand and played with his fingers for a little bit before you felt yourself growing more and more sleepy. "I love you," you muttered, rolling onto your side.

"I love you," he said back, curling his arm around your waist. Laying beneath the sheets, with his arm wrapped around your naked body, you knew there was no place on earth you'd rather be.

***

A/n: this took so long, I'm sorry. My next fic will be up Wednesday or Thursday though, I promise.

[bewitchingwitch]

Constellations pt. 10

It had been days since you had been home. Ever since that girl from the Ministry had whisked you away after you got back with Theseus you had been training nonstop. You had no idea what was going on in the outside world, or what was in the post. You had even been sleeping at the ministry they had assigned you a small room that had a pull out bed.

You were training under the instruction of a strict yet kind man named Cecil who had long black dreadlocks weaved with gray that he pinned up in a bun. No matter the training exercise he always wore nice clothes. Today he was wearing brown slacks with a white button up rolled up to his forearms with suspenders.

Today's training had you dodging spells while he fired them at you. You were dressed in simple workout clothes you couldn't pull off the dressed look like Cecil. He would fire them at you and you had to deflect them with a counter spell or dodge. Eventually you had to get close enough to him to take the apple from him that he carried in his right while he wielded his wand in with his left. You thought it was a stupid task but Cecil insisted you do it anyway if you wanted to keep working here.

"Come and take it (y/n) it's only an apple it's not that hard!" He chuckled, his voice had a South African accent attached to it. He fired another spell at you that you barely avoided.

Your let out an agitated growl in response.  You were getting better but the past few days you hadn't managed to take the bloody apple from him. They said that once you could get it from him that you could finally go home. And you were determined to get it from him today

You sprinted forward deflecting three spells and fired one in return that he lazily avoided by tilting his body to the side. "Is that the best you got (y/n)?"

"Not even close Cecil!" You shouted back as you made your way closer to him. You came to halt a few feet from him. He just smirked at you. Now you had to figure out how to get the apple from him.

"Come on girlie I thought you would have gotten this sooner." You circled one another, anticipating each other's next move. "You're what? Thirty something?"

"30 to be exact." You replied.

"I'm pushing 65 I'm considered to be an elderly in the muggle world. And yet you can't seem to beat me." He smirked.

"Don't be so sure of yourself." You mimicked his expression.

"And why is that?"

"Because while you were monologuing I took the apple." You rubbed it on the sleeve of your shirt and took a bite out of it.

Cecil looked surprise from a moment before chucking deeply. "Congrats! You can finally go home little one!" He clasped your shoulder.

"I know I'm so tired, the beds here aren't soft at all." You remarked as you gathered your things.

Cecil just laughed. "I'll be looking forward to working in the field with you."

"As will I." You said a quick goodbye and apparted out of the training arena and onto the steps of your apartment. You sighed contently as you opened the door and stepped into your apartment.

You immediately plopped down on the couch in your living room. You body melted into the soft cushions. You shifted uncomfortable feeling as if something was underneath you.

You reached your hand back and pulled out a piece of paper that you had rumpled form laying on. It was a perfectly square and folded four times.

You unfolded it and noticed scribbly writing. It said, Remember Quidditch tomorrow morning at 7 sharp. I'll swing by to take you there.

Sincerely,

Newt.

You smiled at the note, you were happy that Newt had left you a note. And you couldn't wait to play quidditch with him and Theseus tomorrow. It wad unknown to you just how much that quidditch match would mean.

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

At exactly 7 that morning Newt had knocked on your door expecting to see you sleep eyed and half awake. But instead you were wide awake already carrying your broom and a duffle bag. You were dressed in jeans very uncommon for the era, with a white shirt that was tucked in and a red bandana that pushed back your hair. Though a few strands still escaped.

Your broom was sleek with golden bristles and a mahogany handle it had two worn strings wrapped around the hand colored in red and yellow. To symbolize your gryffindor status. There was also a carving on the top of the handle. It was a heart with your first name initial and the initial of an A written in it. He felt a pang of jealously and looked away from the carving. You noticed what he was staring at and moved to cover it with your hand

You had never seen Newt in casual clothes before. He was wearing a loose and stained blue button up with suspenders and black jeans. He looked good. You couldn’t help yourself from scanning him up and down. He carried his broom in his hand it had a crooked handle and it was very simple and worn out.

“Are you ready?” You asked as you hopped down the steps like a child.

“Yes.” He smiled at you and took your hand in his which surprised you. You looked down at your fingers interlaced and Newt began to pull his hand away. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have grabbed you hand.”

You gripped his hand tighter and gave him a reassuring smile and he relaxed into your touch. “How are we going to get there?”

You began walking down the street together your brooms tucked under your arms. “Well we play in this abandoned quidditch field a little ways out of town. It had the hoops and everything it’s just a little rusty. We can apparate or we can walk if you’d like.”

You thought for a moment while Newt watched you. Your hair way blowing lightly in the wind. He wanted to tuck the stray hairs behind your ears but felt that it would be too out of line. He didn’t even know what you thought of him.

“We can walk if it’s only a little way.” You wanted to spend more time with him.

“Okay.” He squeezed your hand and you walked together talking endlessly about his creatures and what chapter he was currently writing. You told him about your adventures at the Ministry leaving out your mission with Theseus.

You arrived shortly after to see Theseus and three other people already in the air flying around on their brooms and scouring. Theseus flew with ease his hair whisking in the wind as he through the Quaffle through the hoop. Newt had mentioned that he was a seeker but you figured that since they were only playing two on two they decided not to use the snitch. You gave a big whoop as the ball sailed through the hoop.

Theseus circled around and was surprised to see you and Newt. One of his buddies pulled up next to him and then the other two followed. “Oi, who’s that?” The guy asked while they were still out of earshot.

“The girl’s pretty.” The guy on his right mentioned.

“Can it Andrew.” Theseus hated his friends.

“They guy isn’t too shabby either. To be honest I wouldn’t mind shagging either one of them.”

“Thats my brother.” Theseus glared back at his friend who just smirked.

“What I’ve been dying to get into your brothers pants since Hogwarts let me live a little.”

“Andy keep your mind out of the gutters. ” The guy on his left remarked he had a Spanish accent.

“Quiet Diego.”

“Oh boys I recognize her she’s the girl from the papers! The one who Theseus is snogging on the cover!” The last guy whose name was Blaine whistled.

“Oooooooo.” All the guys circled around Theseus mocking him and making kissing noises.

“Piss off.” Theseus grumbled as he flew away from the crowd as he descended he called out to Newt. “Well, well, well it looks like baby brother decided to join us and without a notice!” He stayed on the broom and stopped a couple feet from the ground floating in front of you.

“Hello (y/n).” He smiled.

“Hello Theseus.” You returned it feeling blush creep onto your cheeks. Newt watched you two interact and felt anger settle into his chest.

“I haven’t seen you in a while.”

“I’m been training.”

“Is that so?” He moved his broom closer to where his face was inches away from yours. “How’s That been going?” Newt opened his mouth to interject but someone else did it for him.

“Not to interrupt this little flirting session but we came out to play Quidditch Scamander. Not to watch you undress your girl with your eyes.” Blaine’s said as he slid off of his broom and took it in his hands, balancing it on his shoulders wrapping his arms as around it.

“Yeah Theseus you promised us a game.” Diego stayed on his broom as Andrew jumped off of his.

“And now that we have two more we can play three on three and use the snitch. You kept saying how you could catch the snitch in 5 minutes flat and have yet to shown us.”

“He’s always bragging with nothing to back it up.” Blaine made his way over to you. He was tall with blonde hair that was due for a haircut as it crept past his ears and curled at the ends lightly. With bright blue eyes and a million dollar smile.

“Yea he’s been bragging that he could beat me in catching the snitch and Merlin knows he never has before. “ Diego had black hair that was slicked back and he had cute dimples.

“Nonetheless He was a quidditch star you know that all the girls flocked to him. They couldn’t keep their hands off of him.” Andrew was wearing a sweater despite the warm weather with an A on it.

“Ha ha now I now know the A on your sweater stands for asshole.” Theseus shot back.

“Touchy aren’t we?.” Andrew had red hair with freckles. He had long limbs and was build like a linebacker. He was fetching a box that was laying in the field. He picked the snitch up and held it out to Theseus. “Care to finally show us and your girlfriend what you’re made of?”

“You’re on Weasley.” Theseus took the small golden ball from his outstretched hand.

“So you’re team captain Scamander and I’ll be the other team captain. You can pick first.”

Theseus looked over his options. “Well I’m a seeker so we need a chaser.” Newt assumed that he would pick him that’s what he always did. Theseus picked Newt because he didn’t like to compete with him, but today was different. “I’ll take (y/n).” You we’re leaning on your broom and your hand nearly slipped when he called your name. You jogged over to stand by his side. “Your turn Weasley.”

Andrew scanned the crowd. “Well I’ll need a chaser since I’m a beater. Newt I choose you.” Newt walked over to Andrew bitter that his brother had pulled that dirty trick of picking you and putting him on a different team. “So I know the girl’s taken but what’s your story handsome?” Andre winked and Newt turned away not sure what to make of Theseus’ flirty friend.

“I’ll take Blaine he’s the only other beater.” Theseus called out.

“Thanks Theseus you sure know how to make a guy feel welcomed.” Blaine sauntered over to stand by you and started up light conversation while the brothers watched.

“Diego That means you’re with me.”

“Always a pleasure.” Diego who was already in the air watched as everyone else gathered their stuff and flew into the air. Everyone got into position.

“So it’s good old fashioned street quidditch you want to toss for who goes first?” Andrew asked as he held out a silver sickle.

“I’m feeling generous you can go first cherry.”

“Such a tease in and out of the bed.” Andrew teased as he got back into position.

Blaine was floating next to you his beater under neath his arm as he pulled out a stopwatch from his pocket. “I don’t believe that he can get get the snitch in under 5 minutes especially against Diego.”

“Is he good?” You asked.

“Good? He was the best Seeker Gryffindor had while we were there.”

“You were a Gryffindor?”

“Yep me, Diego and Andrew were. Newt and Theseus were Hufflepuffs.”

“Yeah I knew what house they were in. I’m a Gryffindor.” You winked at the playful blonde.

“Nice I figured. I know a Gryffindor when I see one. We’re all a rather charming bunch.” Blaine floated a little closer nothing romantic just friendly banter.

“Indeed.”

“Blaine, new girl stop talking and lets play.” Andrew called.

“It’s (y/n)!” You corrected.

“(Y/n) stop talking!” Andrew called back playfully. “And someone hurry up and release the snitch so we can start.

Theseus flew over to you and handed you the snitch cupping your hands around it. He kissed your hand. “Will you do me the honors of releasing it. I think I’ll have a better chance at winning if you do it.”

“Isn’t that romantic.” Blaine interjected. He was now hanging from his broom upside down like kid do on monkey bars.

“Blaine stop that you’re gonna fall off! We’re like 50 feet in the air!” Theseus reprimanded.

“Oh piss off mom I’m fine.”

You let yourself fall back and hang upside down mimicking Blaine while Newt and Theseus chocked back a scream. “(Y/n)!”

“It’s fun Theseus! Plus what did you expect?”

“We’re Gryffindors!” Blaine finished.

You released the snitch and sat upright as the game officially began. You saw Blaine start his timer before slipping the stopwatch back into his pocket.

The game was intense. You currently had the Quaffle and zoomed past Newt as Andrew shot a bludger at you. You dodged it and chucked the ball into the center hoop sinking it. You raised your arms up in triumph as Blaine cheered. You were the only scorer for the team. Andrew’s team was up by ten points. Newt had scored ome more time than you had. He much better at Quidditch than he had let on.

You had once let him get past you because he looked so bloody good with his hair all disheveled by the wind and his suspender slipping off of his shoulder. Theseus had noticed and lost track of the snitch during that time. He was now back on the hunt against Diego. “You only have a minute left!” Blaine called out as he shot a bludger at Newt who avoided it but dropped the Quaffle. You dived for it and grabbed in stuffing it underneath your arm.

You pulled up and sped towards the goals where Newt was blocking. Even though he liked you there was no way he was going to let you win. Andrew shot the bludger towards you and there was no way you could avoid it by shifting to the side. You made sure your grip was good on the Quaffle before you leapt up off of your broom. They all stopped to watch you. Especially the brothers both of them terrified at your reckless move. As you jumped though the air the broom continued to zoom below you.

The bludger flew past you and you fell back down and grasped onto your broom with one hand. One handedly you flew and tossed the Quaffle into the the hoop. Once you got rid of the ball you swung yourself back on and did a victory lap as both teams cheered you on.

“Bloody Merlin (y/n) that was fucking amazing!” Blaine abandoned his post to give you a high five. Diego gave a holler in support as he continued to search for the snitch.

You laughed. “That was my signature move when I was at Hogwarts. It always got everyone in the stands on their feet.” While you were preoccupied with questions about the stunt you pulled Theseus only had about thirty seconds left to catch the snitch.

He finally saw it. It was flying circles around Diego’s feet. Diego wasn’t paying attention he was congratulating you on your save. Theseus made his move. He hugged his body close to the broom as he zoomed forward and outstretched his hand. Diego didn’t notice what Theseus was aiming for until too late.

Theseus’ hand enclosed on the golden ball and he held it up in triumph as Blaine called time. He had caught the snitch within the five minute mark. You and Blaine swarmed him you had won the game because the snitch gave your team a 150 points. You moved close and your lips were inches from touching, Newt was watching in heartbreak until Blaine’s voice interrupted you.

“Oi who is that?” Blaine had his hand up to clock the sunlight and was squinting down towards a small figure that was coming closer.

You all moved down a couple feet and the figure became a little clearer. You eyes widened in realization. The guy was calling your name. “(Y/N)!”

“Who is that?” Theseus and all the other followed down to where you were.

“Is that-? It can’t be.” You were in disbelief. “I still have three months he wasn’t suppose to come yet.” You mumbled to yourself as you let yourself descend the figure was storming closer until he was a couple feet away.

You jump off your broom and grab it all the boys land to and you then to face Newt. You know what’s coming and you don’t want to face it. “Hold my broom please.” You give it to him and your hands longer for a moment as you give him a quick peck on his cheek that is visible to none.

You move closer to the guy. Newt and Theseus realize who it is as he gets closer it’s the guy from the photograph on your mantle and down the photograph that you carry in your briefcase. He had the same tousled raven hair but he wasn’t smirking now. He had a deep look of anger etched into his face. His hazel honey eyes blazing.

He was wearing a smart grey three piece suit without the coat jacket. He as wearing a dark grey vest with a tie and matching slacks. His white undershirt was rolled up to revel his muscular forearms. He was about the same build as Blaine. Muscular but it was subtle. Not much bigger than Theseus but as tall as Newt.

You caught up with the guy and placed your hand onto his chest to stop him from moving and closer. “Adonis this is a surprise!” You were looking forward to seeing him but not like this. “I’m glad to see you.”

“(Y/n)...” His chest was still rising up and down you could tell he was pissed.

You reached your hand up and caressed the side of his face a soothing gesture you had always done to calm him down when he got like this. He was a sweet but a very temperamental young man. You rand your hand down to his cheekbone opening up your palm. And he placed a light kiss onto it. It was a sign to you that he had calmed down for the moment bring. A trust symbol between you two.

“Excuse but who the hell are you?” Theseus stepped forward you could see he had pulled his wand and so had the others they were holding them hidden behind their backs.

Adonis let out a low growl in response. “You.” His voice was deep and you knew that if you didn’t stop him someone was going to get hurt bad.

“Adonis...” your vocie had a warning edge to it.

“It’s him! That bastard!”

You pulled yourself away from him. “Hold your tounge how dare you insult him!” You poked your finger at his chest. Your other hand resting on your hip.

“How dare I? How dare you defend him! You know what he did!”

“No I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about Adonis!”

“Really? You want to play innocent?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” You raised your voice. “I didn’t do anything wrong!” Both Newt and Theseus were at the ready both of them wanting to send this newcomer to hell but they knew you wouldn’t want them to. You could handle yourself. And despite how this guy was acting now that one intimate moment you had had with him earlier proved that you cared for him. And would not approve of the Scamander brothers destroying him.

“YOU DID NOTHING WRONG?” He was practically red with anger now. You knew you needed to stop arguing with him before he blew his top.

“Adonis breath. What’s wrong?” You placed your hand back on his chest and he took in and he closed his eyes. He opened them and began to pull out something from his back pocket.

He pulled out a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been rolled up in the back pocket of his slacks. It was a little crumpled he handed it to you. “Explain this.”

“What is this?” You held the paper still not looking at the cover. Theseus knew what it was and his heart dropped.

“Read the headline.” And you did and you placed your hand over your mouth in horror. The picture below the title was a moving picture of you and Theseus kissing. It was from when you were on the mission someone had taken it of you guys without you knowing. It moved on repeat the way Theseus bit your lips and you leaned into it depending it. “Oh Donnie I-“

But Adonis had already pushed past you and was standing chest to chest with Theseus sizing him up. “So war hero, you think just because I’m not here you can make a move on my girl I don’t think so.”

Theseus want backing down. “You’re girl, you talk about her like she’s your property. Who do you think you are.”

Adonis turned back to you in shock. He glanced down at your hand and you hid you hand behind your back in shame. He couldn’t believe that you didn’t tell these people about him.

“You ask who I am War hero? I’m her fiancée.”

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[ladylb]

University Style - Marichat May 2019 by Lady_LB Chapter 9

Covers the Prompts: Rooftop Save & Balconies

Adrien was in trouble and he knew it.

Especially since Marinette was quickly ejected from their class this morning after her loud outburst after she had read the article that he may have just said too much about their relationship together.

I really do want to date her. Adrien thought wistfully, technically I’ve already married her, online that is, but I really wouldn’t mind making it real.

It hadn’t helped that Nathalie had come and literally took him out of class just as it was ending so that he could speak to his father, his manager and the PR director for the company. In a way, it was good news. While the article read more into his relationship with Marinette than was true, it described the way that he wanted it to be and that actually was good exposure somehow.

Trouble is, between putting out the publicity fires that had started and getting informed by his team about the next steps etc, Adrien had missed the whole day at school.

The really bad news was he hadn’t been able to get a quiet moment to speak to Marinette or call her and while she hadn’t been mentioned in the article by name, he knew she was recognized during class so they had a very limited amount of time to discuss what ‘we’ meant.

Adrien took a deep breath as he entered his apartment that evening, changing out of his Adrien look into the comfortable guise of Andrew as he checked his messages.

First, he started with the messages for Adrien, since he actually had two phone lines but there were only three messages that mattered on that line from his closest friends.

“Adrien, Adrien, Adrien. The response to this article was ridiculous, utterly ridiculous! They must have taken something out of context because, well, because! Call me when you’ve started to think like a sane person!”

Chloe was always so inspiring.

Alya was just scary. “Agreste! You are in SOoooo much trouble mister! Call me before I have to hunt you down!”

At least Nino was calm and Adrien didn’t have to hold his phone away from his ear during any part of it to hear it. “Dude, Mari is confused, upset and I’m officially warning you that you had better be hiding until the gurls calm down! I’ll try to distract my gurl, but no promises Bro!”

Adrien was surprised that he hadn’t received a message from Marinette.

Then he checked his messages for Andrew and as usual, there weren’t many. But there were only three messages.

“Andrew, Hi. I’m sorry I missed you this morning, our teacher has no heart and I’m sorry I reacted that way and got kicked out and missed you. I kind of knew something like that might happen if I was seen with your cousin, I just didn’t think that I’d be practically going out with him all of a sudden, not that he’s a bad guy, it’s just I’m still a little confused about” – Beep

“It’s Marinette again, and as I was saying, I’m confused about why they think that. I mean, I like your cousin, oh my gosh do not tell Adrien that or I’ll never live it down! Ugh! What I mean is, he ah, has started to grow on me? But I’m still a little mad at him. He can be so cocky and infuriating sometimes, but he can be sweet too. Pfft! And then there’s you! How can I forget you? Adrien must have said SOMETHING to have mislead the press like that” – Beep

“Me again, I’m sorry, I’m probably filling up your voicemail. I’m not ready to talk to Adrien, it’s just, ugh, I wanted to apologize and talk to you sometime in person… there is a reason why I kind of used to have a rule about not dating models. I-I would like to talk to you about it sometime and tell you about it if you let me. Give me a call, if you want to, um, yeah, well, bye.” -Beep

I really should apologize to her in person. Adrien thought, but it sounds like she’s not ready to meet the real me exactly… or at least not all of me.

Adrien walked out to his balcony as he pondered the situation and saw the figure of a woman sitting on the apex of the sorority’s roof.

I’d recognize that figure anywhere he thought wryly, I guess now is as good of a time as any to go and see her, strange she’s so calm. She doesn’t seem upset. Maybe she’s calmed down?

…

Adrien had changed his look back into Andrew, having had to become Adrien to be allowed back at his father’s headquarters during all of their meetings today. Then he had climbed Marinette’s fire escape to get to her meager balcony and then from there climb up onto the roof just like she had probably done.

I still can’t believe they want me to do a public announcement about my relationship with Marinette. Andrew sighed as he gazed at the beauty before him, and I can’t believe that I only have two days to win the heart of my beloved, but she’s not ready to see Adrien yet.

Adrien, as Andrew, looked up at Marinette, she was leaning back and looking up at the sky and the moon as if it had all the answers. Kissed by the moonlight, she looked like she had just descended from heaven.

Well, here goes…

“May I join you?” He calmly called out.

Marinette startled and yelped as she lost her grip and tumbled down the roof.

Andrew was able to brace himself and catch her before they both fell off, as they both caught their breath as he chuckled and told her as he held her close, “I knew you’d fall for me.”

Having not seen who he was, she twisted in his arms and smacked his shoulder lightly, “Cha-!” She exclaimed but then her eyes widened, then she bit her lip, which was just SO, so tantalizing… but not yet Agreste!

Which was when her heard her apologize as she brushed off his shoulder, “I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize how much you sound like your cousin Andrew!”

Andrew chuckled, “actually, it’s a reasonable mistake. Can we ah, go sit on your balcony to talk? I mean, I don’t mind cat-ching you,” Andrew quickly brushed the back of his neck nervously, “I just don’t want to risk you getting hurt Marinette.”

“Well, I don’t mind being caught.” She smirked lightly at him and Andrew almost lost his balance again. He hadn’t taken the time to change his pants or his shoes from being Adrien and they were not meant for rooftop climbing.

She giggled as they slowly stood up, “come on Andrew, let’s get down from here. I can make us some cocoa.”

Adrien nodded and followed her as she climbed down to her balcony.

…

Ten minutes later they were standing on her fire escape / balcony.

“Marinette, there’s something important that I need to talk you about.” Andrew told her nervously.

She glanced at him from the side, “yeah, me too. Can I go first please? I actually have two things to talk to you about.”

Andrew nodded and waved his hand, “ladies first.”

“Thanks. Well,” she sighed and looked out over the campus or at least what they could see from their position anyway, “I know I said that I don’t date models, and well, I guess after agreeing to go out with Adrien I’ve kind of decided to not follow that rule anymore, I just, well, I hope I don’t come to regret it.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, you see, I made that rule because I’m a closet nerd and fell in love with a guy that I had never met in person online a few years ago. Eventually we even got married in the game, if you can believe that.”

“Actually, I can.” He whispered, but she didn’t seem to hear him.

“Sir Noir he, well, he was someone special and I, I loved him so much.” She swallowed, “I found out that he was a model because he sent me a photo of him and a couple other models, that wasn’t released until like a week after I got it.”

Andrew nodded as he followed along to the familiar story, a small grin on his face as he listened intently. “I sent him one of me with a bunch of my girlfriends, but soon after that, he had less time online. He had mentioned that he had a tough job, as a teenager mind you and it just kept getting worse. He had all these horror stories about working late, sore feet and muscles from standing still for so long, the exhaustion and the extreme and limited diet! I couldn’t believe it. It literally hurt to hear what he was going through and I didn’t understand, not really and well, I took too long to tell him how to contact me and eventually he just… disappeared.” Then she sniffed.

Andrew noticed that a she had shed a tear, for him! He swallowed and wrapped his arms around her brushing her tear away with his thumb, “Oh, Mari… I…”

She sniffed, “shush!” She patted his arm to make her point, “I’m not done and if I don’t say it now, I don’t know how I’ll ever bring it up again.”

He nodded.

“O-okay, well, my heart was broken and I just broke more as the months passed. My last message to him was to ask him to meet me in the game so I could give him my real-life phone number, just like he wanted, but after three months, well, it was time for me to accept that I needed to move on. So, I went through all the stages of grief, and once I hit the acceptance and anger part, well, I wrote off models because it hurt to see what they went through, especially since I couldn’t be there for him.” She sniffed and he hugged her close.

“Anyhow, I’m sorry about taking that out on you, and kind of Chat Noir.” He could practically feel her roll her eyes, “but I’m not ready to talk to him about it.”

“Oh? He ah,” he cleared his throat, “Chat mentioned that he wanted to talk to you, did he do something wrong?”

“Well, he did seem to make the press think that we were about to be engaged.”

“Oh, yeah.” Andrew exhaled, “I really don’t know how to explain how that happened.”

How can I begin to tell her that I’m Sir Noir, Chat Noir and Adrien? Andrew wondered.

Marinette nodded, “Actually, that is the second thing that I need to talk about.”

She leaned back and looked into his meadow green eyes, “your eyes, they’re practically the same as Adrien’s, do you know that?”

Andrew swallowed, “yeah? It must be the family resemblance?”

Marinette smirked a little, “I guess. Well, I need to be honest here Andrew, when I first met you, it was like a lightning strike, I found myself attracted to your sweet disposition and your humor if you can believe that,” he chuckled, “and your kindness. That hour you spent helping me move in at such a crazy time was so, well, you.” She blushed and he grinned at her as she quietly admitted, “I was already attracted to you after so little time.”

Andrew gave her a squeeze and a nod, requesting that she continue.

“Then you had to leave and I start unpacking and find that photo that Sir Noir, my online husband from so long ago, sent me, well, after I wind up having to save your cousin’s Kitty hide from his admirers.”

Andrew chuckled as he interjected, “I know that he appreciated that.”

“I know, but as I was saying,” Marinette’s voice sped up as she began to ramble, “there were only three guys in that photo and one was a guy with the last name of Agreste, and now that I think of it, he, he looked like you and well, Adrien too. I’ve only heard about Adrien as a model before to be honest. Plus, after all this time that I spent with Adrien, I don’t know what to think. I think that I might like him too and it’s so confusing, I don’t even know…” she paused, not knowing how to go on.

Andrew smiled gently with a wide grin, “you like me, and you like Adrien too?”

Marinette blushed as she gave him a small nod as she cupped Andrew’s face. “I feel… so conflicted. I don’t know which guy I like or even if one of you is the guy that I’ve already given my heart too.”

Marinette seemed to steel herself, “Andrew, I’m sorry but I really need to ask you this, because I really need to know, but are… are you my Sir Noir?”

end chapter.... the earlier chapters can be found at the link below

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18716623/chapters/44391187

[michaelmalloryfanfic-blog]

fic update: o thou, destroyer named - chapter viii

they are like two wounded animals, circling one another, waiting to see who will strike first

. millory outpost 3 au .

post links: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

ao3 links: chapter i // chapter ii // chapter iii // chapter iv // chapter v // chapter vi // chapter vii // chapter viii // chapter ix //

chapter summary:

Welcome to Sanctus Manibus! Mallory takes the Big Sleep or...well, she certainly takes some Big Naps. Mallory sleeps a lot in this chapter but you would too if you were slowly dying from radiation poisoning okay??? Also!! Introducing! Andrew Channing, Amara De Feu, Kimberly Jackson.

a/n:

Okay guys. this is...a big one. Sorry. It might be a little boring but ya girl gotta do that worldbuilding shit rn. I'll try to make future chapters a little more interesting! Thank you and good luck!

Chapter 8: I feel it too

When Mallory wakes, she’s alone. The world around her is dark and empty. Her right cheek is hot and when she sits up there’s a slight squelch of her skin unsticking to the vinyl. Mallory winces and rubs her cheek. The skin is warm and tacky. As her eyes adjust, the backseat cabin of the SUV reminds her of the last few hours. The vinyl of the seat squeaks beneath her palms as she pushes herself up. Outside the heavily tinted windows, Mallory sees not gray, not pitch darkness interspersed with orange balls of light but rather an intense, uninterrupted expanse of white.

Not knowing what else to do, Mallory lies back down and presses her cheek back into the seat. She stares straight ahead and breathes deeply. A scent like midday heat and musk hits her and she quickly breathes in again but when she does the scent is gone. A few minutes pass as Mallory sits in the darkness knowing not which way she should proceed. One last deep breath and Mallory sits back up. Her head swims a little but even so she opens car door. It is so bright outside that she has to squint. She blinks into the unyielding brightness of the room and takes a step outside of the vehicle. Across the room, to her right the empty air hisses and there’s a whoosh of air as an opening in the vast emptiness appears.

In the opening appears a man. Mallory knows immediately that it isn’t Langdon. He’s too short, perhaps only a couple inches taller than Mallory. His face and body are illuminated by brightness of the room revealing him to be a simply but smartly dressed individual. Behind him, a much dimmer world peeks out. In his hands, he’s holding a tablet. His eyes are glued to his screen, his facial features obscured by the top of his head.

“Um,” Mallory breathes.

At the sound of her voice, the man looks up from his screen. He’s handsome in a way. Big, dark eyes, a wide mouth all within a square face. At first he seems confused but then his face breaks out into smile that is at once too cordial but lacking in warmth. His teeth are disturbingly white and perfectly straight. When he tucks his tablet under his arm and makes a beeline for her, Mallory decides she likes the darkness of the car better after all. She falls back into the cabin closing the door with her.

“Mallory,” the man calls with confused amusement. “Stop joshin’!”

Mallory scrambles to lock the r.doors but it’s futile. As soon as she gets the doors locked, there’s a simultaneous chorus of clicks as all locks are undone. Outside she sees the man waves the key to the car.

“Come on, Mal,” he says as though they’ve known each other for years. “Enough joking around. We’re already behind schedule as it is.”

When she doesn’t make a move, he shakes his head that same too-wide, too-white smile on his face. He opens the door and the light from outside comes pouring in.

“Gosh they didn’t warn me that you were such a joker,” he laughs and shakes his head.

Mallory has never been accused of being such a thing.

“In any case, I’m just glad you’re finally up. You were in there so long I wondered if ya up and died on me!”

Mallory is still huddled against the opposite side of the cabin as Andrew commits this verbal assault against her. When he seems to pause, Mallory opens her mouth to speak but before she can get a word in he’s talking at her again.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything. Mr. Langdon said to let you sleep as long as you need and that’s exactly what I did. And look at you! Rested and ready for the day! Although the day is way close to being over already. But time is fake amiright?”

She’s squints at him from across the car unsure if he will let her get a word in. Andrew’s expression changes from amusement to apologetic.

“Oh! I’m so sorry! I haven’t even introduced myself. I’m Andrew Channing. But you can call me Andy.”

He reaches into the car but when Mallory doesn’t take his hand he climbs in to the vehicle to get closer.

“Andy,” he repeats and continues to hold out his hand.

“Okay,” Mallory says, then takes his hand and repeats his name back to him.

His hand is cool and a little clammy. Mallory grimaces at the feel of her small, slim hand enveloped in his. She tries to pull away but he tightens his grip on her hand and leans in closer.

“Sorry for calling you Mal. Can I call you Mal? I just feel like I know you so well already. I’ve been reading up on your profile while I waited for you to wake up and just feel like we’re close even though your profile is pretty scant with you comin’ from an outpost and all.”

“My profile?” Mallory interrupts.

Finally, she wrenches her hand free and scoots away from Andy.

“Yeah! Everyone's got one,” he holds up his tablet and waves it from side to side. “Even Mr. Langdon but that’s classified.”

“Langdon? Michael Langdon?”

Andy hums in response and continues to ramble.

“You probably don’t know much about what is and isn’t classified, huh Mal. I mean why would you. But that’s okay. You’ll have me to rely on for that kinda stuff until you head to the Sanctuary.”

“I thought this was the Sanctuary?”

“Well, not exactly. Hey, Mal can we get out of this car,” he says while jerking his thumb towards the still open door. “We got things to be, places to d - oh well the other way around. You know what I mean. We're way behind schedule with your orientation.”

By now, Mallory’s eyes have mostly adjusted to the brightness outside. After considering his request for a moment, she decides that if anything bad is going to happen then staying in this car won’t stop it. The lock clicks softly as she opens the door and begins to exit.

“Oh thank goodness,” he said and exited out of his door. “So right now we’re in Manibus, Sanctus Manibus. There are four other branches just like this one positioned equidistant from one another.”

He pulls out his table and taps on the screen a few times then begins to draw. In a few seconds, he shows Mallory what he’s drawn. There are five dots, each one representing a community. He's drawn a line from each one to the next to show they are equidistant from one another. He explains that they are currently in one of those facilities. Next he draws her attention to the three dots within the first shape.

“These three are Sanctus Corporis,” Andrew says then points to one last dot that stands alone at the center of the triangle. “This is what we would call the Sanctuary, Sanctus Animo.”

“Sanctus Animo,” Mallory repeats her nose wrinkling as the words pass her lips.

Mallory wonders if there had been some huge Latin language renaissance that she just happened to miss out on.

“The holiest of holies,” Jerry says his tone still joking and even a little derisive but Mallory detects some reverence beneath his glib tone; there’s desperation there. “That’s where Mr. Langdon spends most of his time. I've never been, of course. Even though I was on the team that help engineer it.”

He pauses in his verbal barrage for a moment to look at her from the corner of his eye. Gone is his smile, the frantic humor behind it and all that's left is a blank stare.

“You'll have to tell me about it when you go.”

His voice is cold, hateful even and Mallory skin crawls at the way he says “you” like could have strangled her then and there. The tablet is between them and to her left Mallory sees the opening that Andrew has come through. She gauges how much time it would take for her to get through it.

“Um, where’s Langdon?” she murmurs inching towards the door.

Then like a windup toy sprung to life, Andy lights up. The smile is back and unfortunately so is his chatter.

“Oh Mr. Langdon has his own schedule to keep. I don’t have clearance to know where he’s at any given moment and neither do you. Best to not concern ourselves with it. Come on let's get going.”

He walks past her to the doorway. Without much choice, Mallory follows him. As soon as she steps through there’s a subtle hiss of air as a door slides down. Mallory let's out a little gasp of surprise and looks back to find the opening completely gone. She inspects the wall and it's as if there has never been an opening in the first place.

“Well aren’t you just the most excitable creature.”

Mallory doesn’t like it when Andy calls her a creature. It’s different from when Michael calls her this. Just like it seemed to be less of a violation to have his hand around her throat than to have Mead lay out a fresh set of clothes. The hallway they have entered seems to stretch endlessly in both directions. Andy, eyes glued to his tablet, turns right and walks at a brisk pace. Mallory follows and as they walk, she notices that the hallway has a slight curve to it.

They walk for a while, the hallway seeming to be just an endless curved tube except that every so often a hallway would appear but only to the left that would lead in another curving direction. Once, on their trek, one of those opening pops up suddenly as they pass. A young woman stands in the opening. Her head is shaved and she's wearing a similar sweater and linen pants combo to what Andrew wears. She too is entirely engrossed by whatever is on the screen in her hands but as she steps out into the hall she looks up and Mallory met with a an expression that is at first impassive but then melts to horror.

“Howdy, Kim!” Andy says with that incessant cheeriness.

Mallory doesn’t pause to ask Kim what is bothering her so much to make such a face. For all Mallory knows, that's just how her face looks. And in any case Mallory gets the distinct feeling that the Manibus isn't a place that appreciates many questions. So she pushes on ahead, trying to keep up with Andy's pace.

“Hey, Andy,” Kim calls weakly after them but the woman’s eyes stay glued to Mallory.

The woman soon disappears beyond the curve of the hallway and Mallory is left alone with Andy once more.

“That was Kim,” Andy says redundantly over his shoulder. “She's a bit of a stick in the mud but she's alright once you get to know her. She's a code-monkey over with surveillance.”

Mallory doesn't ask what a code-monkey is. She doubts he'd give her a straight answer. Occasionally they’ll pass by a certain section of hallway and Andy stops to explains that behind this wall or that people do some hugely important job, usually some kind of experimentation. Despite his tendency to ramble he never goes into detail about what kind of experimentation they do and to what end. On that front, he is pointedly vague.

“For the good and improvement of the human race,” is as far as he explains.

He talks ceaselessly about things of such minuscule consequence that she tunes him out almost immediately. Andy is, frankly put, a chore. He talks about a number of useless things but most of all, Andy talk about himself.

“I was only nine when I started teaching myself calculus. I wasn’t very good at it but my point is that math has always been a talent of mine. Just one of the reasons I was chosen to be here.”

By this point, Mallory has tuned him out so well that his is voice is just a hum ahead of her. Instead, her focus turns to Langdon. He’s here, in this same facility but he’s left her alone. Though she knows she has no right to, Mallory feels abandoned.

However, she doesn't have long to dwell on that feeling. Andy’s pace slows. The seemingly endless hallway has comes to an end and opens into a huge chamber. It's breathtaking, open and full of what seems like natural light and despite herself, Mallory is impressed. There are small pockets of lounge areas throughout the open space. Islands of large cushioned seats. Along the curving wall opposite of where she and Andy stand there are what looks like shelves of food. She crosses the room to it and is surprised to find that it is only a picture. She puts her hand up to one of the items, a vibrant image of a peach. As soon as her fingers brush it, the image begins to glow. In red lettering, a message appears and pans across the image.

User not found. Please contact admin.

"Oh that won't work for ya," Andy calls from behind her. "At least not until we set you up with an account but let's not get ahead of ourselves."

She nods though she doesn't fully understand what he means. She steps back from the wall and turns to continue looking around. She realizes quickly that she and Andy are on the bottom floor of this facility. Above them rises four more floors, each one is another circle that branches out into curved hallways like the one she and Andy have come from. She hasn't seen this kind of space in over a year. Her jaw hangs slack.

“Pretty awesome right? I’ve been down here over a year but the Fib-Se still gets me every time.” he saddles up besides Mallory and watches her gawk. “All the Manibus were constructed around the Fibonacci Sequence and this is its center. Simulated natural light, the cleanest, highest concentration of oxygen in the whole facility."

She doesn't respond, but Andy doesn't give up trying to get her attention.

He moves so that he's standing in front of her, "So what was it like in the outposts?”

“Uh-huh,” she replies still in awe.

Andy gives her a puzzled look. Her eyes snap down and sees his expression.

She quickly corrects herself, "Sorry I mean, it was...it was fine, I guess. I mean I’m sure it wasn’t much different than what you went through.”

He lets out a bark of laughter. It's Mallory's turn to give him a puzzled stare.

“I doubt it,” he says and lets out another high peal of laughter. “I heard that outposts were barely a few steps up from being on the outside. Then again, I was never in an outpost, never met anyone who was. So what do I know?”

“Shouldn’t everyone here be from an outpost? I thought the Sanctuary was a fail-safe, humanity’s last resort.”

This elicits another laugh from Andy but it is sluggish, less amused and more concerned.

“Now where did you hear something like that. Last resort? Hardly! Here at the Sanctuary Humanity isn’t just surviving. We are thriving!”

The realization arises, Mallory has not only been abandoned but she’s been lied to as well. The air seems to flee her lungs and the world shrinks. The light in the room, which had just a few minutes before felt so warm, joyus even, feels cold and too sharp. She feels that she has swallowed a lead weight but Andy shows no signs of slowing.

“Well, we got more things to do so we should head out,” he chirps and turns towards the entrance of yet another.

The thought of another long, curved trek turns Mallory's stomach.

“I want to lie down.”

“Oh don't be a party pooper! You've been snoozin’ for hours. Plus I wanna get through your orientation before Third Block ends and then you can meet the other operatives. Not to mention we still need to get you yo-”

“Andy,” she interrupts. “I need to lie down.”

Andy looks at her then and seems to see her for the first time. No one who really knew Andy Channing would ever mistake him for being sympathetic. He’d always been a calculating, reaching individual but had learned early on to mask his narcissistic megalomania with a cheery, disarming affect. It made it easier to get what he wanted from people and hadn’t his method served him well? He stands among the few, here at the end of the world. And truthfully, he cares nothing for Ms. Mallory Wilson. It's clear from her profile that she was nothing before the bomb. He had read enough to know that her Grey outfit brands her as even less than nothing after the bomb. Andy was chosen and she was happenstance. Still, her face is ashen and Andy thinks she might not even make halfway through the rest of her orientation. He sees no other option than to relent.

“Well...you do smell like a day old corpse. Let's get you a change of clothes and you can get washed up, yeah?”

Andy takes her down another hallway that leads them away from the Fib-Se and its light but this trek is considerably shorter than the previous one. After about only a minute or so, Andy pauses before a blank expanse of wall. He types something into his tablet then there is a hiss and pop of air as door appears and opens before them. Andy enters and Mallory follows, both silent and somber.

The room they enter is much like a hallway itself. Narrow, not much wider than five feet across but it is deep at least 30 feet or so. The walls are paneled with dark wooden doors. They are perfectly lined up in two rows, one on top of the other. Each door has on it it in silver and black, a barcode.

When they enter, Andy turns to the left where a small compartment covered by a glass panel glows with a blue light on the left wall. He holds his tablet up to a barcode that has been printed on the glass. The compartment lets out a soft, high ping and into the compartment drops a small package. Andy lifts the glass panel and pulls out a small square of fabric. He unfolds it to reveal a black tote bag.

He holds up it for Mallory to take and smiles, “Reusable.”

Andy moves quickly down the line of doors. The clothing come in general sizes, S, M, L but they were made to fit large in an effort to fit as many bodies and body types as possible. All the items are neatly folded into similar flat squares as the tote.

“Now I doubt you'll be in Manibus much longer so I’ll just snag you a couple sets things. I promise I'm not cheap,” he glances back to wink at her. “I’m just practical.”

Andy stops occasionally at a door, scans the barcode with his tablet then pulls out an article of clothing. He grabs her a pair of dark brown pants, a cream colored tunic, a cardigan, and a heavy sweater in similar tones, explaining each item as he drops them into her bag.

“Seems like a lot but believe me, you'll need the layers once you get up to residential areas. Heating goes way down after Fifth Block.”

Next he makes his way all the way down until he's about halfway through the room. Andy opens up one of the bottom cabinets and crouches down to reach inside. However, at this cabinet he pauses. He looks up at Mallory then gives her a quick but obvious once over.

“You're a little…uh practical up top too, huh? I'm not sure how well you'll be able to fill these out but I’ll throw ‘um in just in case.”

He holds up a small white bralette up for her to see while grinning. Mallory doesn't dignify his jeering with a reaction. He drops a couple pairs of panties in her bag which is quickly filling up. Last were a bundle of thick socks and a pair of brown ankle boots.

As he hands her the socks he says, “you hang on tight to those. They're practically gold around these parts.”

They leave the room. Andy seems back to his old self, chattering away like before. Mallory remains silent. She barely registers that Andy has led her into an elevator that takes them up to the top floor of the facility. They follow the curling hallway a short distance until they stop in front of a visible door. Another barcode is printed on the door at eye level.

“It isn’t exactly the height of luxury but I figured you wouldn’t mind since you won’t be staying long,” Andy says as he scans the barcode and it opens up to reveal a room not much bigger than her old room back at the outpost. “You’re supposed to be heading to the Animo along with Langdon soon.”

Without responding, Mallory shuffles into the room. What it lacks in space, it makes up for in luxuries that she would have never been afforded back that outpost. A small desk and chair set sits to the right of the door. On it sits a small lamp and besides that there’s a small black book. She makes to grab it but Andy swoops in and snatches it up before she can grab it.

“See that tech pad over there,” he motions towards a glowing pad on the left hand wall.

It’s height and width is a little larger than the average hand. It glows blue in the darkness of the room. From the corner of her eye, Mallory watches Andy tuck the small journal into his pocket. She looks back up at him and he smiles.

“You put your hand to that and it will open up into the bathroom. You can get cleaned up in there. Fifth Block ends in three hours. I’ll be back for you then.”

She nods and continues into the room. Andy stays in the doorway. The light outside cuts him into a dark figure. From her place in the darkness of the room, he seems to Mallory nothing more than a shadow. He’s still smiling at her.

“Mallory,” he calls to her as she’s turning away towards the bathroom. “A word of advice. Everyone here has a purpose, all of us were painstakingly chosen to fulfill that purpose. Everyone except you. I would suggest you find what your purpose is and soon because here in Manibus things without purpose get discarded.”

As he says that last word, his hand falls to the journal in his pocket. He stands for a moment longer, a smiling shadow in her doorway before saying goodbye and leaving her alone in the dark.

For a long time after, Mallory simply stands in the center of the tiny room. Her skin itches, feels far too tight. And the room, no bigger than the only other one she’s known for the past year, feels cavernous and unwelcoming. She glances occasionally at the techpad knowing that she need only put her hand to it and she can solve these two issues but she is rooted to the ground. Tears come unbidden, hot and painful. They close her throat and she chokes until her choking becomes sobbing. She falls into herself, folding like a sheet of paper.

She has no right to feel sad, no right. She has no right to feel hurt by his abandonment, his dishonesty. But she does . She feels it like a burning, a tugging like a rope is tied around heart. It pulls and pulls. She puts her hands to her heart as she doubles over.

“It hurts.”

It hurts, to see Mead laid out on the slab like a corpse. He'd seen her like this before, back when she had first been reborn through the womb of silicone and steel only back then he had been rapt with anticipation. The technicians had assured him that she just needed a routine check up made evident by the issues that arose during her update. Still, Michael insisted on overseeing it. He almost wishes he hadn’t. It is maddening for Michael to see her like this.

The room she had been placed in is empty except for the table she’s laid out on. The seamless white walls only serve to make the room feel even emptier, it’s hollowness more vast. Michael stands over her occasionally looking through the progress report that is displayed on the screen in his hands. She’s pale as a ghost and her face is like a statue’s. She could be dead. She could be sleeping but she is neither of those things. She is just broken. There’s a hiss and pop of a door opening behind him.

He straightens up instinctually, rising to his full height and says, “This system check is taking longer than you estimated,”

When he is met by silence, he turns to face the intruder and is faced with the unexpected and unwelcome sight of Amara De Feu, High Priestess of the Unholy Order. Amara would be a startling sight in any context but in a place like the Manibus, she is overwhelming. Unlike Michael, who has since arriving at Manibus adopted their utilitarian style of dress, Amara dresses in the great, sweeping silhouettes of the Amino. Her entire ensemble is black but is made up of intricate designs. Hundreds of lines created by hand-stitched piping flows in tight waves across her body. They stretch outward, from her right shoulder in a diagonal down past her left leg creating a dynamic silhouette that makes her willowy frame seem larger and more angular than it actually is. A square of black mesh falls over her pale face, floating just above the skin seemingly without any support. She is a nightmare, a vision and yet Michael is unimpressed.

“Amara. What an unexpected surprise.”

Behind her veil, her pale mouth splits into a simper.

“Veri Heredis,” she replies with a warmth that does not meet her eyes. “You were expected back at Animo days ago. I was worried you might be avoiding me so I came to see what held you.”

She saunters into the room. The fabric of her dress follows the movement of her body strangely, swaying in the opposition direction of each step forward. Despite this, Amara manages to move with some grace, caged in by her own clothing. She sidles up besides him. Michael resists the urge to hurl his body backwards, away from her.

“They told me that you were overseeing the repair of some droid. I didn't realize it would be her.”

The warmth that was missing in her greeting to Michael is found when she looks upon the visage of Miriam Mead. She raises her hand as if to caress the older woman’s face. Michael almost goes to grab her wrist. He feels ill at the thought of De Feu putting her hands on Mead or anything that belonged to him. However at the last moment, she pulls her own hand back and turns to face him.

“However, I was a little confused by the explanation. Surely a droid could be better serviced in the Animo.”

She wanders away from him. The ruffling of her clothing is loud in the silence of the empty room as she makes her way around to the other side of the table.

“It was more about urgency than artistry, Amara,” Michael says.

She stares across Mead's body at him. Her dark eyes on him are unnerving but Michael gives as good as he gets. Amara is the first one to break. Her eyes flit back to Mead's face.

“Fine, keep your secrets while you can. You know how I love intrigue, Michael.”

Michael takes her words as a threat and most things that Amara says are. His name from her lips makes his skin crawl and he struggles not to cut her tongue out of her head. But if killing Amara was that easy, Michael would have done it already.

“She meant everything to me once upon a time. Like a comfort blanket, I used to cling to her,” this time she does touch Mead. “But to lead one must put comfort aside. That's what she taught me.”

Her fingertips are topped with a pitch black cones that extend their length from the first knuckle to about four inches to the tip. But the rest of her hand remains bare, the pale, dry skin like pearl against the ink of her ornamentation. She runs her knuckles along Mead's cheek; her eyes snap up to meet his. She sneers at the disgust in his eyes.

“Hurry back to the Animo, Veri Heredis. Or else I may be forced to free you from whatever is that is keeping you away.”

Amara leaves and Michael is left alone. Five minutes and twenty-three seconds after her departure, Michael decides he has to tie up loose ends. He is going to kill Mallory.

When she wakes, Mallory knows she isn’t alone. Her body aches and when she tries to sit up, she fails miserably. To her right she hears a rustle of paper, there’s dim, orange light near the door. It takes some effort but she manages to turns her head to look towards the other body in the room and finds Michael Langdon lounging on the desk chair, a vision bathed in lamplight.

In his hand is an open book. He is silent as his eyes scans the pages, His clothing is far more casual than before, a grey collared shirt tucked into a pair of loose, dark pants. Over that he wears light sweater. Michael does so enjoy the ritual and pomp of extravagant ornamentation but there’s a time and a place. The Manibus operate by the virtue of utility and so he has chosen to keep his manner of dress utilitarian.

“You’ve been asleep for two days,” he pans not looking up from his book.

His hair is pulled up into a loose bun, a few stray locks fall around his face. He flips to the next page, the soft rustle of the paper resounds in the quiet of the room. Mallory only has enough energy to groan in response. Her head is pounding and her mouth is like cotton.

“If you’re thirsty, there’s some water here,” he says motioning to what looks to be a small plastic pitcher on the desk

Besides it is a small plastic cup. Mallory stares long and hard at the cup and pitcher. At this point she would be willing to kill for a just a drop of moisture on her tongue but for some reason her limbs just don’t want to comply. Mallory squirms a little, willing herself to get up and get at that water. Ultimately, she only manages to roll over on to her side to face him.

Michael looks up from his book when rolls over. She is staring at him, he feels the glare of those doe-eyes even if he cannot make them out in the darkness. She sticks out like sore thumb in the lived-in scene of this room. Michael knows little of what fate befell this room’s former inhabitant but he knows that she’s gone now but all of her things remain. His eyes fall to the book again and makes note of the page he’s left off on. He closes it, places it neatly on the desk besides the water and rises to his feet.

He approaches the bed, “I read Channing’s report.”

It is less of a bed and more of a mattress that sits on a platform that rises about about two feet off the ground. On the face of the platform are some drawers and a cabinet that holds clothes that will never be worn again. To Michael’s right there are two short steps that lead up to the flat top where the mattress sits. The walls that rise up around the bed is lined with shelves heavy with books that used to belong to someone. They will either be re-purposed or disposed of once they are both gone.

He crouches down to her eye level. “You didn’t finish your orientation.”

He hears her huff but he can’t see her expression in the darkness. Michael leans in closer, places his hands on the platform just besides the mattress to get a better look at her face. Her breathing is shallow, face ashen. Even as she staring at him, the dazed look in her hooded eyes tell him that she can barely focus. But she's in there, distrust looks out at him from her eyes. He doesn't need to step into her head to figure that out, it is plain as day on her face. And yet she doesn't fight him when he reaches out and presses his hand to her forehead. Her skin is dangerously hot, enough for it to be painful. He reasons with himself that what he is planning is a mercy to her. He is being kind.

“It’s no wonder you feel like shit. You never received your anti-radiation shot.”

There’s no tears, no trembling from her this time. Rather, she stares at him with unabashed suspicion. He stands and her eyes follow him like twin dark planets pulled by his gravity. They stare into one another, him from above and she from below. A moment passes but then her stomach croaks breaking the silence.

“Hungry? We’ll find you something but you need your anti-radiation injection first.”

She grunts in response, neither a yes nor a no. Her arms wrap around her middle as if she could silence her traitorous gut this way.

He raises an eyebrow at her noncommittal response, “Get up, Mallory.”

When she rolls over so that her back faces him, Michael frowns. That simply won’t do. He returns to the desk and picks up the pitcher of water. He pours the contents noisily into the cup. Mallory perks up at the sound. She twists her torso just enough to see him standing at the desk, cup in hand. He meets her eye as he takes a sip.

“Please,” she croaks, the word barely sounds human coming through the dry cavern of her throat.

Michael decides that he likes her pleading. He wonders if he’ll miss it when she’s gone.

“You want it?” he refills the cup and drinks deeply. “Sit up.”

Hears something like a growl from her but he can’t see her mouth. He doesn’t have to wait long before he sees her rise up. There’s something serpentine in the movement of her body. She sways a little, the fever bows her even when she is just sitting.

“Up,” he demands, he can feel her glare through the darkness. “Come here.”

Her silhouette remains static and Michael grows impatient. He slams the cup on to the desk. The force of it makes her jump.

His voice is low and dangerous when he says one last time, “Come here.”

Mallory squirms for a moment. Her eyes are downcast now, he sees the way her head is angled downward. Then, with shaky resolve, she stands and drags herself to stand before him. Up close, the blush in her cheeks is evident and her humiliation is clear. But still, she came.

Michael fights a snicker back. He refills the cup, her eyes follow his every movement. The cup is full in a few moments but he holds it in his hand. He considers knocking back this cup as well but thinks better of it. He delivers the cup into her greedy hands and she gulps it down quickly. Too quickly, she chokes a little but it barely slows her down. She finishes the whole thing in almost no time.

He watches her and shakes his head, “Stubborn girl.”

Her eyes find him over the rim of the cup. They are liquid with fury but her body is too weak to retaliate. So, she finishes her cup and the rest of the pitcher while she’s at it. When he certain that she isn’t going to keel over he leads her out into the hall.

Mallory is going round and round in her head. She’s like a live wire besides him. In contrast, Michael is resolved. There is one destination. He glances down at her and is surprised to find her already peering up at him. The distrust, the suspicions isn’t gone but with them now is curiosity.

She quirks her mouth and her eyebrows are jammed together when she says, “The apocalypse still has night time.”

He realizes that this is the first time she’s seen the Manibus like this. The backlights behind the white walls have been dimmed and have been switched to a dark, desaturated purple.The ceiling above is completely black, dotted here and there by small points of light, a simulation of the night sky.

“The lighting is controlled by an algorithm that follows the body’s natural circadian cycle,” he explains. “When they were developing this place there were particularly concerned with what effect life underground would have on inhabitants.”

He looks up at the ceiling and scoffs, “they thought stars might make people feel better about the world ending.”

He looks younger in the dark.

“I think that makes sense,” she says with labored breath.

The fever, no doubt, is taking its toll.

“It was too bright before, like being an Apple store 24/7. It’s better like this.”

He glances again at the mock-stars above and they seem different somehow.

If she wants to voice what has her so agitated, she makes no indication of it. Michael also feels no urge to speak or prod her further so they walk in an oddly comfortable silence. It would have been downright amicable had it not been for the fact that she was practically half dead and he’s planning on killing the other half. They travel down to the second floor where the med-bay is located. Like anything else in the Manibus, the med-bay’s design is heavily influenced by utility. He leads her to a room that is devoid of any comfort or warmth. The light here is cold and bright, all the lines are hard, sharp. He has her sit on the thinly cushioned examination table and she watches as he prepares.

The back wall of the room is lined by shelves. Stacked on these shelves are white plastic boxes all uniform in shape, size, and placement. Below each row of boxes is a barcode. All this is covered by a glass door that rises when Michael places his hand on a scanner besides these shelves. He chooses one box from the top shelf and begins to prepare its contents.

As he does so he tells her, “The clothes need to come off.”

She has the audacity to look scandalized and he just has to laugh at her, unable and unwilling to suppress whatever amusement he may derive from her. Soon enough he won’t be able to. He inserts the tip of the syringe in to the top of the top of tiny glass bottle in his hand and pulls the piston up; soon enough she will be gone.

“You’re body is heavily poisoned from being exposed for a year to radiation, anything that hasn’t been treated properly and stays too long in contact with it will become irradiated. Unfortunately, they don’t treat their clothes so they have to go.”

Mallory thinks it over for a moment but after a few moments he hears the sound of clothes ruffling behind him. When he turns around she is already down to her underwear. Her arms are wrapped around her body. She’s shivering, gone is the amicable silence. Her face is a portrait of annoyance and fury.

“You gonna have a seat?”

She doesn’t move a muscle. Her eyes dart to the medical bed then down to the floor. She clenches and unclenches her fists.

“You lied.”

He takes out an alcohol swab and motions for her to give him her arm, “You'll have to be a little more specific.”

“You lied about everything...about humanity being on the verge of extinction, about this being the last hope. It was all bull.”

“Yeah, you sure called it. Do you want an award?”

She recoils wrapping her arms around her body even tighter but its all for naught. He grabs for her right wrist and rips apart the cradle she’s made of her own arms around herself. He tries to swab the inside of her arm but she pulls it back.

“I don’t want the shot.”

He sighs, “and we were doing so well. Come now, we're almost done.”

He reaches out again but she resists. She pushes at him, slaps at his hands. When he gets ahold of one of her wrists, she freaks. A burst of energy surges through her and she manages to both push him off and knock the syringe from his hand. The glass of the barrel shatters when it hits floor. Something about the sound and the sight of it sets Mallory off.

“What did you bring me here for huh?” she screams. “You gonna fuck with me? Push and pull me around like a fucking ragdoll. Why? What’s the point? Everyone here has a fucking point? A purpose? So what's mine. What the fuck am I doing here?”

Michael stares down at the broken glass on the floor. Clear liquid oozes across the floor where the syringe lies shattered.

“You're purpose?” his voice is low and even. “Your purpose is whatever the fuck I say it is!”

Michael feels as if he is splintering. He isn’t even seeing her. Michael only sees Mead’s pale, prone body on the slab. He is seeing Amara’s sly smile behind her veil as she makes her veiled threats. He steps towards her and she cowers backwards but he doesn’t let her get far. He seizes her wrists in his hands and clasps them with an unforgiving grip.

“If I want to fuck you up, if I want to gut you with my bare fucking hands, then that's what I'll do. And you will sit there and fucking take it.”

He squeezes even harder and she squeaks. It thrills him and he hisses, “you’ll say thank you.”

Mallory is practically on her toes, he’s pulled her so close that he’s lifting her off the floor. Breathing comes hard for both of them. Mallory looks stunned and he can’t bare the look in her eyes so he unhands her roughly pushing her backwards in the process. She stumbles and falls into the wall for support.

After, they are both silent. Michael goes back to the shelves and Mallory catches her breath against the wall but it doesn’t take her long to break the silence.

Her breathing is still labored, “I know that I'm nothing.”

When she says this, he feels the searing memory of Andrew’s words like a wound in her mind.

“I've known that my whole life. You didn't owe me the truth back then, you still don't but it's what I wanted. I wanted you to be honest with me. I wanted to trust someone, anyone.”

Her voice cracks and he knows already that tears must be welling up in her eyes. Such a nuisance but he can barely contain the urge to turn around and watch her break. She’s so fragile that she can be nothing other than a hindrance but he can’t deny he’s relieved. He glances down at the broken syringe then to the rows and rows of boxes all perfectly aligned and fully stocked. Only one row deviates, one box missing. He knows he has to reach for the next one in that same row but he doesn’t.

Instead he stands still, his back to her when he asks, “What do you know about want?”

Mallory legs are about to give. She slides down the wall until she’s crouching against it.

“I know it hurts,” she pauses to steady her breathing. “It's jagged. It feels like having a piece of glass ripped out of you or rope tied around your spine that someone keeps jerking around like a fucking yo-yo.”

Her words pierce him like a bullet. And oh how he bleeds. He looks back at her. She is a mess of thin limbs, of sharpness and sickness. The shivering has worsened. Even with a proper dose of the anti-radiation serum, she’d been in for a long two weeks of recovery. The shot that she had shattered would be easier for them both, less painful certainly.

As if feeling his gaze on her, she looks up to meet it. She looks as though she’s been shot through as well. There’s no doubt in his mind that this is the most enrapturing distraction that he has found in the year since the world ended. Her humiliation, her vulnerability, her pain ; she gives all this easily to him. She is split open before him like some red, dripping fruit and Michael is starving. And a starving man, even one that is the Antichrist, the destroyer of worlds, finds it unconscionable to give up even a scrap of food.

So Michael relents. In many ways, resistance is a child’s game. He remembers his grandmother and how she tried so hard to keep him small, to keep him under thumb and how he had pushed back until she broke. He remembers Ben Harmon and how he had tried to fight back against Michael’s nature, against Michael fate. Ben fought so hard and so long but in the end he too is broken down. It is only youth that entreats one to resist and right now Michael feels so very old, older than he’s ever been or will be. Resistance is for the sated, Michael resigns himself to starvation and all the unlucky impulses that should come along with it.

As he comes to this conclusion, Mallory has closed her eyes. Her body sags beneath its own weight. He wonders if she knows how close she’s come to death once more. He prepares the new needle, knowing that it promises her at least a week of painful recovery and him an unknown but almost assured blunder. He goes to her. He tries to be gentle as he hoists her up and presses her into the wall to pin her up.

The movement jostles her back into consciousness and just as she opens her eyes, he presses the needle into her arm. Her eyes snap wide and she hisses as the needle breaks the skin and sinks down into her flesh until it finds a vein. When he begins the injection she gasps, in pain surely but there is another feeling in it, one that is deeper than either pleasure or pain. He feels it with her as the serum enters her system.

He removes the needle but doesn’t press down knowing full well that because he doesn’t a deep bruise will bloom on her skin within the day. He retrieves a clear plaster from the kit and puts it over the tiny red dot where the needle penetrated her. Through the plastic plaster he can still see the hole in her arm and Michael runs his thumb over it. He thinks about what she said, about how it feels to want.

Michael leans in and whispers, “I feel it too.”

God bless ya if you finally made it to the end of this behemoth. Sorry about that. I’ll try to write something a little more interesting <3

[andrewuttaro]

New Look Sabres: 2019 Free Agency

The wise words of noted NHL insider Elliotte Friedman go “When you’re drowning in this league other teams don’t throw you a life jacket, they throw you an anchor.” In spite of a handful of decent to great players getting traded in the last few weeks for peanuts, generally speaking it’s very hard to pull off a trade that is a lopsided win for your team. Free Agency is worse. Free Agency is like opening a septic tank looking for a diamond ring and jumping in expecting not to get covered in shit. The last big Free Agency signing the Sabres pulled off was Kyle Okposo. All the off-ice stuff you want to say about the Sex Man aside: that contract sucks ass. It was bad the moment it was signed. That’s what most free agency signings are like. Jason Botterill approaches this offseason publicly saying he wants to focus more on the trade avenue. That’s smart. I’d prefer he not give out too much money in free agency like his predecessor did with Okposo. However we are a fanbase that has run out of patience eight years out of the playoffs. Significant roster moves are paramount right now. How we got here is actually pretty simple. The tank worked (let’s not relitigate it) and rebuild 1.0 was accelerated by Tim Murray with the Ryan O’Reilly and Evander Kane signings at the cost of a wave of prospects and picks. Rebuild 1.0 failed. That failed initial rebuild was what brought Kyle Okposo here as a free agent. He’s now our very own salary cap albatross circling in the skies above the nearly dead Buffalo Sabres that were so stripped down in the tank they’re aimless even with some talent on the roster. We’ve all run out of patience. Rebuild 2.0 under Jason Botterill has gone better but, and this is a big but, the second half collapse of last season was decisive. It ended Phil Housley’s coaching career in Buffalo, and it burned a lot of the fan goodwill Jason Botterill had held onto through the legendarily bad season that earned us Rasmus Dahlin. Another bad season probably costs Botterill his job. This is the situation that gave birth to the buzzword of Sabres twitter: “Roster Surgery”. Bill Schake analyzed it best. Chad DeDominicis’ right hand man essentially said roster surgery is a great way to put it because there is so few tradeable assets left on this team it will take some cunning, creative moves to make real change. It’s truly surgery of the roster because its hard. It’s going to be harder than it’s ever been in the Eichel Era this summer to make this team look competitive past Valentine’s Day. So what changes do we have to talk about as we enter the long, dull portion of the NHL hockey calendar?

Well… Rasmus Ristolainen was the one big tradeable asset I was alluding to… and this past weekend… the Sabres signed Marcus Johansson. Ok so, the trade we’ve been waiting for didn’t happen before the posting of this article. Lord knows it will after this goes up and I’ll have to wait until the Offseason Retrospective to write about it. But let’s not poo-poo a great signing just because it’s not a trade we want. In fact, this specific blog is called 2019 Free Agency so let’s talk about Free Agents for a bit. Marcus Johansson, apart from adding yet another Swede to one of the most swede-heavy rosters in the National Hockey League, adds much needed left-wing depth to the top six. He’s considered a veteran at 28 and has only gotten to twenty goals twice in his nine seasons in the NHL. Nonetheless he was kind of the best guy left to add to the wing for the Sabres once July 1st came and went with pretty much only AHL-level moves. Johansson is defensively responsible and gets those zone entries which is something this team needs guys not named Jack Eichel to do better. Also he is apparently known for his versatility. He hasn’t played at center in recent seasons but that is a trick in the hat knowing Casey Mittelstadt may still not be ready for that 2C slot. That is the topic of some Sabres twitter debate but it seems rather immaterial right now to me with so much offseason left to go. The natural next topic of conversation here feels like it should be Jimmy Vesey and Colin Miller. However, those are technically trades although they were so well extracted they almost feel like signings. As I said earlier, I’m all for not giving up too much money in free agency, particularly if the team isn’t exactly “going for it” right now.  So how about I rattle off the free agent signings Jason Botterill did make on July 1st in spite of most of them being long shots for the NHL roster: Goalie Andrew Hammond, Center Curtis Lazar, defenseman John Gilmour, Jean-Sebastien Dea and sorta Dalton Smith (Smith was an Amerk this past season and was resigning technically). Those first two guys are the ones you’re thinking of. Andrew Hammond was the “Hamburgler” in Ottawa a few seasons ago and Curtis Lazar was the guy who ate a hamburger off the ice during that same craze. Just like the Ottawa Senators both guys have not been all that good since. Hammond is the better of the two and is probably going to platoon it in net with Ukko Pekka-Lukkonen in Rochester this coming season. Lazar… is worth a shot I guess. John Gilmour was one of the better AHL defensemen for the Hartford Wolfpack last season and I’m told has the best chance of the group to make the big club. The other two guys I just don’t feel any need to talk about. That feeling is not because they’re minor league moves: you dipsticks complaining about the Front Office making moves mostly helping Rochester need to cool your jets and count your blessings! Take a good hard long look at that Okposo contract and then shut up!

I spent most of last year’s Free Agency article ranting about the Ryan O’Reilly trade. After how his season ended this year that whole conversation turned into a toxic waste dump a la your local minor league baseball franchise announcing a Pride Night on Facebook to absolutely terrible comments from the most bigoted boomers on the internet. I won’t be addressing O’Reilly because I feel we’ve done that to death. This is Buffalo Hockey though so of course there is another retread conversation fraught with potential toxicity to talk about: Jimmy Vesey. First things first, don’t hold three years ago against him. That move for his negotiating rights was the kind of stupid but exciting move that Tim Murray specialized in. That saga doesn’t matter now because Vesey is an established pro now and if we’re being totally real here the players don’t care. Jack Eichel is just happy to have another BU guy, I’m sure! Bury those bad takes next to your Leino jerseys. Nothing screams top line about Vesey’s game so don’t pencil him in right next to Eichel as if it’s a sure thing. I’ve heard him called a middle six acquisition which I think is a great way to put it. We’ll see what Training Camp holds for him. Colin Miller on the other hand you can definitely pencil in as a top four pairing defenseman. He isn’t clearly the best line mate for Rasmus Dahlin but he’s a strong candidate. His trade to Buffalo for a 2021 second round pick and a 2022 fifth round pick is Botts picking on a team in cap jail more than what you might call highway robbery. It’s kinda funny that team in cap jail is the Vegas Golden Knights but after the 2018-2019 St. Louis Blues happened I’m sure they’ll be back in the Final next year. On this team Miller is second only to Rasmus Dahlin on the defensive depth chart and top of the right-handed side of that chart. There are four right-handed defenseman who are NHL likely now beyond Miller: Brandon Montour, Zach Bogosian and Rasmus Ristolainen. The talk about a Ristolainen trade went up naturally after the Miller trade and yes, I’m still on the fence about it. I don’t need him gone, especially with a new coach coming in, but I don’t want 2022 to get here and everyone in the league know he’s ass and end up trading him for a couple of late round picks. If we’re going to get a king’s ransom for Ristolainen, it’s probably this summer or the 2020 trade deadline at the absolute latest. By the time you’re reading this the deal may already be done. Oh, I forgot to mention the Miller trade pissed off Leafs fans! I love pissing off Leafs fans. Fuck them, right?

So there it is: New Look Sabres 2019 Free Agency! Well… how about some fun signings not related to the Sabres? Even after the Leafs traded away Nazem Kadri for a decent to good defenseman there are still smart folks up there saying the Leafs are worse man-for-man compared to last year. Delicious! Robin Lehner openly declared his displeasure for how the Islanders let him go before signing with the Chicago Blackhawks. That’s interesting on two levels because the Isles probably aren’t done this offseason in a big way and Lehner now goes from a great defensive team on Long Island to a very porous defensive system in Chicago. We’ll see how it works out for him; I kinda want him to succeed still but one way or another we’ll see if last season was a fluke or not. Tyler Ennis singed with the Ottawa Senators. That maybe the one weirder jersey to see him in then Toronto. Finally Mike Smith goes from Flames to Oilers while Cam Talbot goes from Oilers to Flames. Should we call that Albertan Roulette? Bringing back home to Buffalo please like, share and comment on this blog. Get that hype going for the new season. I won’t be writing much on this blog until late August, but I think that’s okay because we all could use a break from Hockey. Also if you really want my Sabres takes you can always get them @UttaroSports on twitter. In the meantime, enjoy the summer! Let’s Go Buffalo!

Thanks for reading.

P.S. Linus Ullmark was among the Sabres who filed for salary arbitration. I could’ve used this PS to talk about Remi Elie electing for arbitration which is much more humorous but Ullmark is my boy, so I hope everything goes over well for him come these hearings in… August. Huh. Let the long summer begin!