#so this was a nice opportunity to slow down and take a breath and geek out abt something i like a lot. :D

[iraprince]

I adore all your art with cookie and was interested in Sapphicworld- but I’m curious (so plz don’t take this as a negative-) what exactly in your opinion sets it apart from other Queer PBTA hacks like Thirsty Sword Lesbians?

I’d just really like to hear your thoughts about it as a system and world especially given you are a indie developer yourself?

hi!! thank you!!

so, a few caveats before i start off — one, i actually haven't played many other pbta games (like for example i know Of thirsty sword lesbians + own a copy that i've poked around in but im not very familiar w it), so i honestly can't provide much in the way of comparing/contrasting it w other pbta stuff in the same vein, and my impressions of sapphicworld are pretty much just contained to the game as its own thing, not so much sapphicworld as a Type Of Game

and two, while i am a dev myself, i'm a huge novice! like, i'm proud of the stuff i put out and i love doing it, but i personally feel like my lack of experience is such that like, i don't think my opinions in this case are particularly informed by my own work as a dev or anything. all this to say im happy to answer this question, i think i just gotta tackle it from a different frame than what ur specifically asking!

BUT ANYWAY. i can still talk abt why im so excited abt sapphicworld in a way that has kind of outstripped other stuff in general, and for me it's about the world 100%. like i honestly spend close to no time thinking abt the fact that sw is even pbta to be honest. not that the mechanics + gameplay aren't important, bc they are thoughtfully crafted and well done and fun, and i'm saying that from the perspective of someone who playtested earlier versions that have now been reworked! it's just like, not what comes to mind first for me — what's exciting and fresh and irreplaceable abt the game in my mind is like. it is fully committed to immersing you in an extremely lush, strange, richly fleshed out world, one with a long history and folklore/mythology and a TON of really fun npcs who all have different subcultures and its own calendar with seasonal holidays and regional terrain with specific fleshed out dungeons/towns/etc to discover and even like, specific FOODS typical to each different region and and and and —

and maybe at first that seems kind of overwhelming, and tbh it is. when i first got into it and i was going thru the playtest document (which if im remembering right was like. ~300 pages shorter at the time than the current playtest doc) i DO remember anxiously thinking to myself "god this is a LOT and idk if i'll be able to retain enough of this to rp convincingly" etc etc. but like... it's just really compelling, and it does an incredible job of mixing humor and gravity and horniness in a perfect ratio that always comes across as intensely earnest and makes it equally easy to have a fun goofy time or a really emotional time, which i think is REALLY hard to do.

and while normally it's hard for me to get thru something that dense and long all i can really say is that i just straight up like it enough and was charmed by it enough to pick away at it until i grasped it and felt like i understood a bunch about the world, which also has a curve to it bc in structure and tone its very different from any of your... idk more Standard fantasy or sci fi worldbuilding, so it's not like u can immediately slot in ur expectations from other settings and just learn some new vocab words, it's a world that from my perspective also Functions differently than a lot of other fictional settings in a way that's a little hard to describe succinctly. (none of this is succinct to begin with but ykwim). it makes me want to gm my own campaign, really really bad, when usually i have always been absolutely Terrified of the idea of gming! idk man. it has a Flavor. it's full of Vapors. u get transported somewhere else reading it and playing it in a way i haven't experienced in a while and a lot of times after a playtest session i felt like my brain stayed behind in sapphicworld for a pretty long time.

i feel like i am sounding a little melodramatic and incoherent but like. genuinely sapphicworld is just a fictional world that i am really bone-deep charmed by and interested in and when i WAS reading thru the rulebook for those first days it did not take me long at all to find myself constantly thinking "i want to play in this world, i want to play in this world, i can't wait to play in this world," and i just think that's really special. and like — just as your curiosity abt comparing sw to tsl was not intended as a diss or a negative, what im abt to say is similarly neutral — im a person who sometimes finds it a little difficult to click with or feel excited abt a lot of the Queer Indie Stuff that i see get popular with other people, bc it just doesn't connect w my specific lesbian + trans experience; not that it feels inauthentic but that im like, oh, idk, i think these guys are just. not My Zone, ykwim. on the flip side so much of the humor and heart and transness and sex in sapphicworld is something that really resonates w me and just Clicks in a way that i have also found really special.

rounding myself off before i ramble for like five more paragraphs but just as one more morsel of something i like abt sapphicworld that is a little more concrete than me spinning around the room yelling "I JUST LIKE IT OKAY": one of the most fun parts of character creation is getting to mix and match your kind (sort of like ancestry/species, the form ur physical body takes) with a subculture. so u get things like a werewolf babe (cookie! babe being a subculture that focuses on being Like, Totally Hot), or a centaur knight, or a minotaur debaucher, or a vampire cowboy, or an organist (cthulu-y tentacle guy) scenester, or a skeleton wizard, etc etc etc etc — there are SO MANY to pick from that when i was trying to bait my friends into playing w me i couldn't find a convenient way to list them all so ppl could start thinking abt their characters. and every possible combination basically is interesting and amusing and fun and practically THROWS a great oc into your lap and i literally think i could amuse myself endlessly just Making Characters in sapphicworld and never actually playing w them.

[panting, disheveled] so tldr. i like it. uh. what sets sapphicworld apart from other ttrpgs to me is that i have fallen balls to the wall in love with the very soul of it to the point where i don't even really think about it in comparison to other games at all and it has just become an Experience to me and i suppose i cannot guarantee anyone else will fall into insane homosexual hysteria in the same way but here we are. HOPE THAT HELPS

(ALSO PSSST. idk if this is just perfect timing or if ur curiosity was specifically prompted by this but the @sapphicworldttrpg patreon DID just launch and if any of this has been intriguing u should check it out. okay mwah bye)

[earthtoplum]

my girl. // robin buckley.

pairing: robin buckley x female!reader

summary: Being Steve Harrington's sister has its pro's and con's, most of the con's being, well, being only known as Steve Harrington's sister. However, summer of '85 something incredible happens. A pro. Steve grows up, becomes self aware, and starts bringing home his new best friend Robin Buckley, the outspoken, socially awkward band geek who sat beside you in Ms. O'Donnell's' class for an entire year. Turns out she isn't so awkward, and you now have a huge secret to keep from your brother.

word count: 2k

warnings: full on shmut right away under the cuuut, MDNI PLEASE. 18+ ONLY, language ( of course )

a/n: turns out i am a shlut for robin, who knew ( everyone did ). this came out of no where, needed a break from every other piece i'm writing, but this has the opportunity to be a fic, i already have the storyline kind of mapped out. hm, enjoy if anyone reads this mess! i have no idea how good this is, just wrote it and now sending it to the void. :) x. ( gif not mine! )

“You’re beautiful,” Robin whispers between shared air, keeping her lips feverishly on yours, “You’re, so, beautiful.” 

Sliding your hands up into her feathered, short brown hair, you sigh, nearly whining as the kiss churned deeper and deeper. 

“Robin,” You whimper under your breath, tightening your grip, gently tugging, “Ro-“

“Shut up,” She mutters, laughing before slipping you her tongue, “You talk too much.” Shifting on top of you, she places her knee between your legs, sliding it up until it rubs against the crotch of your jeans. She smirks at the sound you make, and moves her knee like she had before to see if you’d do it again.

“Oh shit,” You groan, rolling your head back on the couch cushions behind you. Robin bites her bottom lip, brushing your noses together.

“You like that?” Her soft voice sends more heat down between your legs, spreading them open further.

“Mhm,” You hum, gulping as she moves her knee steadily on your core now, watching you with satisfied eyes. Catching your parted lips in a kiss, she retreats from them eagerly slow, dragging her tongue over your bottom lip sensually as you started to grind your hips against her.

“Someone need to be touched?” She asks, dragging the back of her fingers down your cheek, smirking as you moan in response, “Shhh, don’t need Stevie to know I’m going down on his sister.”

“Please,” You whisper, opening your eyes to look up at her. Standing above you with one arm behind your head, the other hand igniting a fire on your skin, a foot on the ground and a knee between your legs, Robin  was in the place one would least expect. Dominant.

“I love it when you ask nicely,” She coos, kissing your cheek, “Say it again,” And when you listen, she whispers, “Good girl.” 

Robin takes her arms from your body and uses her hands, that she now adorned in rings, to slip your t-shirt over your head, smoothing down your hair for you, planting a kiss on your nose. Her lips travel down, kissing every inch of skin she can until she’s paused over your breasts covered by the white bra she was definitely going to tease you for later.

Slipping her fingers beneath the straps, she pulls them down and takes her time, studying you as she does. Kissing the center of your chest as her hands disappear to take care of the hooks on the back, she tosses the lacy material aside and looks up at you with her charming green eyes.

Breathing a mile a minute already, you have to bite down on your lip as she grazes her tongue over your hardened nipples, smiling as she does. Latching her lips to each one, swirling her tongue around properly, she watches as you throw your head back again, moaning from your chest to keep quiet. Wiggling your hips, they now grind against nothing, making you whimper in need.

“Relax, baby,” Robin smizes, dragging her tongue up in a straight line between your breasts, “You’ll get what you want.” Her fingers toy with the button on your jeans, undoing it to your relief. Lifting your hips off of your couch, you help her take them off, a bit too eagerly on your part. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, Robin hooks her hands behind your thighs and pulls you closer, looking up at you devilishly from between your legs. She was still fully clothed, this felt like an absolute sin.

“You gonna be a good girl? We gotta be quiet,” Robin asks you softly, kissing the inside of your thigh. Nodding fast with your eyebrows knit together, she laughs, “You want it so bad,” She kisses the inside of your other thigh, watching you nod some more, and with the wiggle of your hips she presses her fingers into your skin roughly to keep you still, “Stop being impatient, you goddamned, little slut.” 

“Please! Robin, I just nee-“ You whisper is harsh, until it’s cut short so you can keep the sound you wanted to let out to yourself. Mid sentence, Robin hooked a finger in your panties, pulling them to the side, sliding her tongue straight into your wet pussy that was begging for her to touch it. Dragging her tongue up and down twice, she penetrates your hole for a second before her tongue swirls over your swollen clit.

It all happened entirely too fast. Gripping her hair with passion, you’re writing underneath her, unbothered of what could come of this couch you were on. Staying as quiet as you possibly could, you can’t help but let a soft whimper escape you every so often.

Glancing down at her, you meet her eyes and feel a wave of electricity move through you. Robin flicks her tongue side to side a couple of times, then swirls it in a circle twice, repeating the ministrations again, and again.

“R-Robin, f-fu…” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut, throwing your head back as she swaps the side to side for a faster up and down, sitting up higher on her knees to keep you pressed down. “‘Hmy god,” You whine louder, grasping one of your breasts with your free hand. Robin looks up at the sight in front of her, and can’t hold back the delicious moan that vibrates against your core, and ignites a fire inside of you like no other.

“More,” You say quietly, “Do-it-again.” Picking up her pace, flicking and moving her tongue over your swollen clit as fast as she can, she looks up into your eyes and gives you what you ask for, another sweet, sweet sound that draws your release closer. Gripping, and massaging your breast the same way your other hand is gripping her hair, you moan, loud, making Robins eyes go wide.

“Need you to cum,” She mumbles, and realizes her big girl tone isn’t going to work, “Baby?” She starts to whine, whimpering as she sucks on your clit, feeling your body tense up beneath her, “Fuck,” She whispers sexily, all a ploy to get you to cum before you wake up your entire house. 

Moving a hand from your thigh, she lines up the two fingers that are wearing rings with your entrance, and slips them inside unapologetically, knowing the metal of her jewelry was a shock and felt cold inside your warm pussy. Working her tongue at the same speed her fingers thrust into you, she moans against you one more time and the tightening coil inside of you snaps. Biting down on your bottom lip, hard, you fight back at the sounds you could make, letting it come out in soft groans.

Feeling you tighten around her fingers, she rides out your high with you, pulling them in and out of your hole slowly, and gently. She kitten licks your clit one more time, smiling as you shudder under her, whining her name.

“Such a good girl,” She whispers, sliding her fingers out of you, “Who knew the rings would make you cum,” Lifting her hand, she shows you the mess you made on her silver jewelry. Watching in awe as she places one of her fingers in her mouth, pulling it out with ease, your curious when she sits up, laying over you as her other hand grips beneath your chin. 

“Open,” She whispers, and when you do she pops her other finger on your tongue, and you do just as she did. You wrap your lips around it and lick it clean as she drags it out of your mouth, leaving behind a taste of what she just had and the tang of metal. Her thumb plays with your bottom lip, now a bit swollen, and kisses it. 

Shutting your eyes, falling deep into the passionate kisses she gave you, your startled by the shout of your name. Popping your eyes open, you’re in your living room with your brother with the TV blaring close to max volume. Glancing to the chair he was in across the room, you question him with a look.

“You can’t seriously be falling asleep to this,” Steve gestures to the movie on the screen. He had brought home Top Gun from work tonight. After seeing it in theaters four times, Steve swore up and down that the minute Family Video got a copy, it would be his. Sure enough, today was the day.

“I’m not falling asleep,” You mumble. Steve scoffs.

“You sure as hell are, I don’t know how either ‘cause you say you love Tom Cruise,” He points at the screen when the actor appears, looking at you matter-of-factly as if on cue. Looking at the dark haired actor you sigh in defeat. Yes, he was attractive, but he simply did not do it for you anymore.

“I do love Tom Cruise,” You say for your brother's sake, knowing there wasn’t a chance in hell you’d ever tell him you had the hots for his best friend. His best friend who happened to be Robin. A female.

Before meeting her you weren’t even sure there were other girls like you, you felt like there was something wrong with you mentally.  And even though it took a lot of small hints, and some major, nerve wracking coming outs, you secured Robin every other night when she wasn’t out with Steve. 

Or, after they’ve come home and Steve has gone to bed, Robin would often sneak back into the house, much like the night before this one. The one you were reliving while Tom Cruise flew his planes around. You were sitting in the exact spot it happened in.

“Oh, I forgot to tell you,” Steve says over the music, not letting his eyes leave the screen, “Robins coming over, I hope that’s okay. You guys are like friends now, yeah?” Looking over at your brother and his obliviousness, you take a deep breath and nod.

“Yeah, we’re like, friends,” You say. Steve smiles, glancing at you quickly before the movie steals back his attention, and the thought of Robin being on her way lights a spark within you. One that was getting stronger each time you were together, threatening to reveal your secret to your brother.

[beelsnack]

Obey Me! Boys Taking Care of a Sick MC

In honor of me no longer having covid, I decided to write down how I mentally coped with having the plague  some headcanons about our boys and a sick MC. Because I’m all about the hurt/comfort life.

-----

Lucifer: “You should be resting.”

The human scowled. Of course Lucifer was standing guard at the bottom of the staircase.

“I’m just going to get some water,” their voice sounded like sandpaper against wood as they spoke. They felt like the living dead, and judging by the cool stare Lucifer was giving them, they looked it, too.

“No, you’re just going back to bed.” He caught them by the elbow as soon as they were within reach. “I’ll bring a pitcher of water to your room for you.”

“Lucif--” their complaint was cut off by a sudden coughing fit. The force of it made them double over, and they clutched at their chest with one hand while the other went to cover their mouth. Demons couldn’t catch human illnesses, but old habits die hard.

It wasn’t until their lungs stopped trying to eject themselves from their body that they realized that Lucifer had sat them down on the bottom step. He was rubbing slow, soothing circles on their back, a rare look of concern in his dark eyes. “Easy now, my dear,” he murmured as they caught their breath. “You’re shaking, are you chilled?”

“...Just a little,” they wheezed. They must not have sounded very convincing, because Lucifer quickly removed one glove and gently pressed the back of his hand against their forehead.

“Your fever has come back.” In one quick, fluid movement, he had taken the cloak from around his shoulders and wrapped it around them like a blanket. “Go back to bed, now. I’ll bring you water and something to bring your fever down,” he spoke softly, like raising his voice would trigger another coughing fit.

It was too bad they were too sick to appreciate Lucifer’s soft side.

Mammon: “…A’ight, that should be everything.”

Admittedly, he might have gone a bit overboard. But, could you blame him? He’d never nursed a sick human back to health before!

…Okay, so Lucifer may or may not have let Mammon use his credit card to get stuff for them. And he may or may not have taken a few liberties. It was for the human though!

“Mammon, holy shit,” they mumbled, poking their head out from the blanket burrito they had cocooned themselves in. “Is there anything left at the convenience store or did you buy them out?”

“Shut it.” he set the last six-pack of Gatorade (well, the Devildom equivalent of it, anyway) at the foot of their bed. “Ya’ weren’t specific, so I just got one of each!”

Their room looked like a doomsday prepper’s bunker. Cans of soup, a myriad of flavors of instant noodles, a portable heater, the works. Maybe they should have been more specific.

“Do ya’ need anything else?” Mammon sounded vaguely annoyed, but underneath the gruff tone he spoke with, his concern was obvious. They had given him a scare when they first came down with the flu two days ago, temperature so high that they ended up collapsing on their way to RAD. He had been fussing over them since. They weren’t even sure if he had slept.

“...Just one more thing.”

“Yeah?” he perked up like a dog waiting for an order from its master. “Whaddaya need?”

Instead of speaking, they wiggled their arms free of the blankets and held them out. For a moment, Mammon just stared at them in confusion. When what they were asking for finally clicked, his face grew so hot they could use it as a space heater.

“What are you, a little kid?” he grumbled, but there wasn’t even a moment’s hesitation as he climbed into the bed with them. They settled themselves against his chest, sighing contentedly. Sleep had taken over in a few heartbeats.

“...Get better soon, you hear?” they didn’t, obviously, and Mammon took the opportunity to gently pat their head, like they so often did for him. “If you’re gonna be all cute and stuff, I want ya to be conscious of it.”

Leviathan: “You know, I really thought you would take longer to go through all of these.”

The human looked like a whole new person compared to the last time Levi had seen them. They were sitting upright, although they looked ready to slide back down into their previous coma-like state any minute, and the number of blankets wrapped around them had been reduced to just one instead of three. They managed to shoot him a weak grin as they handed over the manga he had let them borrow.

As much as Levi loved staying locked away in his inner sanctum, it was only an enjoyable experience if one’s source of entertainment was also locked away with them. And he couldn’t, in hood conscience, let the human die of boredom instead of dying of illness, so he had ventured out of his lair armed with his collector’s edition box set of I’m A Scholarship Student At An Obscenely Rich School and Now I Have To Work Off A Debt Because I Broke A Vase That Belonged To A Host Club!

That had only been a few days ago, but this morning he had gotten a text from them saying that they were finished.

“It’s not like I have anything else to do, Levi.”

“Pretty sure you could have been sleeping, but okay.”

They stuck their tongue out. “I couldn’t put it down.”

“Right?” Levi nodded enthusiastically, clutching the box to his chest like it was worth his weight in gold. Actually, knowing him, he probably paid his weight in gold for it. “I definitely bawled my eyes out at the end. You have to watch the anime next, the music really brings the scene together. And, like, I’m not usually into pastel themes, but the color scheme actually really fits the mood, and - “

Somewhere in the middle of Levi’s overly-excited info dumping, the human’s eyes had slipped closed. By the time Levi realized he was geeking out, their breathing had evened out and they had slumped against the headboard.

…Oh. They looked really cute like that.

“Sheesh, c’mon, normie,” he muttered, shaking his head. “I can’t believe I bored you to sleep.”

He set down the box on their nightstand and, very carefully, so he didn’t wake them up, inched them down to lay were laying against the mountain of pillows they had. Once they were settled into a position that wouldn’t give them a crick in their neck, he pulled the blanket up to their chin.

“There,” he nodded to himself. “You rest up, because you and I are going to have an anime marathon, and I won’t forgive you if you fall asleep in the middle of it.”

They mumbled, but otherwise stayed unconscious. Levi had definitely seen this in an anime before. His heart was pounding somewhere around his throat, but he wasn’t getting this opportunity again any time soon. Gently, like he was approaching a wild animal, he leaned in close and pressed his lips to their forehead.

“Seriously, get better soon.” he murmured. “I don’t like seeing you sick.”

Satan: His leg was falling asleep.

He had been sitting in the same position for at least an hour, and if it were anyone else he simply would have shoved them off and went about his day. But, how could he push the human away when they were curled up like a kitten in his lap?

They had been complaining about being bored, since they had been too feverish to attend RAD for the past few days. So Satan, always the man with a plan, had arrived in their room ready to binge watch his favorite crime drama. Even though he had seen this show at least eight times, he still found himself getting absolutely sucked into the plot. So much so that he didn’t notice the human starting to nod off until they landed against his side.

“Honestly, you could have just told me you were tired.” he muttered, gently rearranging them so their head was resting in his lap. They made a small noise in their sleep, but otherwise remained unconscious.

It was so rare that the human was still. They seemed to have an endless source of energy, able to be embroiled in all of the shenanigans that tended to happen around the family without absolutely disintegrating. To have them finally at rest, even sick, was quite the treat. Satan couldn’t quit help himself as he reached down to pet their head.

Well, if he was going to be stuck here until they woke up, at least he had a good show to watch.

Asmodeus: “Asmo, I can bathe by myself.”

“Yeah, no, don’t even try it.” Asmo shook his head as he ushered the human into his bedroom. “You passed out in the shower the other day, darling. This is the only time I’m grateful for Mammon’s snooping, because you might still be there if he hadn’t heard you fall.”

They subconsciously touched the sore spot on their shoulder where they had collided with the wall. The pain blended in with the rest of their body aches, but the bruise certainly didn’t.

“Besides,” Asmo sat them down on the chaise lounge. “A nice, hot bath with some quality oils will rejuvenate you like nothing else. Now, go on, strip.”

When they gave him a clearly unamused look, he just laughed. “Not while you’re sick, darling. You know full well being with me requires you to be at peak energy.”

With a sigh, they began peeling themselves out of their days-old pajamas. Admittedly, they did feel like a bath would help them feel a little better. They were pretty sure they read somewhere that the steam from hot water would help clear out all the gunk in their chest. And if anyone knew the intricate rituals of bath time, it was Asmodeus.

While they were stripping, Asmo had made his way over to the Grecian temple that was his bathtub and turned on the tap. After a few moments of running his hand under the stream to test the temperature, he stood and began browsing his impressive collection of bath accoutrements. “Hm, let’s see, let’s see…here it is!”

Asmo turned around, holding up the little bottle like he had just found buried treasure. “Eucalyptus, to help clear out the lungs. It’s good for muscle aches, too!”

With a flourish, he put a few drops into the water. “Alright, ready. Can you get in yourself or do you need my help?”

“I’ve got the flu, not the plague, Asmo.”

“You. Fell. In. The. Shower.” he punctuated each word with a poke to their cheek before holding out his hand to help them. Although they grumbled, they were still feeling kind of weak, so they allowed Asmo to pull them up.

“There, now, easy does it,” he spoke softly as he guided them to sit on the edge of the tub. If this were any other situation, they would be painfully aware of the fact that they were completely naked in front of the Avatar of Lust. But, the fragrant steam rising from the water was beginning to ease the ache in their chest, and Asmo’s soft hands had begun massaging their shoulders. They barely even noticed when they were fully seated.

“You’re not coming in?” they murmured sleepily as Asmo sat himself along the edge of the tub. He just laughed.

“Next time, darling. Now, you just relax and let me take care of you.”

Beelzebub: The phrase “don’t have much of an appetite” just didn’t make sense to Beel. How could someone not want to eat? Maybe he was a bit biased, being the ever-starving Avatar of Gluttony, but still. Humans needed lots of nutrients to get better when they were sick, right? He was pretty sure that was what Satan told him.

Beel scowled, scrolling through the eighteenth listicle about foods to eat when sick. Honestly, he was making himself hungry, but he was starting to get the general idea. Looks like he’s making them some soup.

The kitchen was separated into “human” and “demon” sections, after the one time that they almost used cyanide instead of salt. Human cuisine took less time and involved less magic, so Beel knew his way around the human spice cabinet. Making the soup was the easy part, making sure it got to its intended recipient was another matter.

Climbing the stairs to the human’s room felt like a Herculean task, but he did it - mostly. He may have taken a few bites here and there. But he had purposely put more in the bowl than he knew they would be able to eat, so it was fine, right? He knocked on their door twice, listening to them shuffle around before they finally called out weakly that the door was open.

“I brought food.” he said, shutting the door behind him. “You haven’t been eating much lately.”

They poked their head miserably out of the blanket burrito they had wrapped themselves in. A thin sheen of sweat covered their forehead, but they were shaking, which meant their fever hadn’t broken yet. Did humans always take this long to get better? Another question for Satan.

“I’m not really hungry, Beel.” they mumbled, voice thick and gravelly due to the sore throat they had. “You can eat it.”

Shaking his head, Beel sat himself down on the bed beside them. “I had some already.”

“Have some more.”

“No, I made it for you.” his stomach growled, completely undermining his words. “It’s basically just broth, you can drink it.”

They wiggled around for a bit before they managed to extract themselves from the absolute cocoon they had made. “…What kind of broth?”

“Just chicken, I promise.” he laughed. “I wasn’t about to try to get you to eat a Devildom recipe.”

Finally, they got themselves into a sitting position, but even that seemed to wear them out. They flopped against Beel’s shoulder, and he definitely didn’t like how hot their skin felt against his. Their breathing was ragged as they tried to get the energy to sit up.

“Here,” Beel dipped the spoon into the broth. “I’ll help.”

“I’m not a baby…”

“No, but you are really weak.” he replied gently. “Let me help you.”

He could feel the urge to protest vibrating through their body - their independence was definitely an endearing quality of theirs. But, eventually they must have come to the conclusion that a content of tenacity between the two of them was going to take longer than simply waiting out their illness. With a huff, they opened their mouth and let Beel feed them.

“Oh, wow, this is pretty good.”

“I’m a good cook if I don’t eat the ingredients first.”

Belphegor: “I thought humans slept a lot when they got sick.”

The bags under the human’s eyes were almost as intense as they glare they gave him. When the rest of the brothers had begun arguing over something stupid, Belphegor had taken the opportunity to bundle them up and whisk them away to the peace and quiet of the attic. His intent had been to take a nice long nap with them, but apparently their lungs had a different plan.

“We should,” they groaned, sounding like their throat was made of sandpaper. “Every time I feel like I’m going to fall asleep, I start coughing.”

“That sounds counter-intuitive.”

“Tell me about it.”

Belphie rolled over so that he was lying on his side, facing them. “Well then, you picked a good nap partner.”

They blinked blearily up at him. “Why is that?”

“Come here, I’ll show you.”

He reached out, tugging them towards him until they were settled comfortably against his chest with their head tucked beneath his chin. Although he wasn’t the tallest of the brothers, he had enough height to basically surround the human. “Can you hear my heartbeat?”

“I’m too tired for you cheesy lines, Belphie.”

“No, seriously, just listen.”

He could practically hear them roll their eyes, but they quieted down. Once he was sure they were synced up with the steady ba-bump, ba-bump of his heart, he began to work his magic - literally.

He brought his hand up to cup the back of their skull, fingertips tingling as he focused his magic their. They squirmed for a moment before sighing as the cool rush of Belphie’s special brand of sleep magic washed over them.

“I told you, being tired isn’t the prob - “

“Hush,” he murmured, letting them feel his voice rumble through his chest. “Just relax for me, okay?”

Belphie massaged their scalp like he was washing their hair, working his magic into their skin. Slowly but surely he felt them soften, the tightness in their chest easing. Finally, their slightly labored breathing evened out, and the poor human finally succumbed to sleep.

“About time,” he kissed the top of their head. “You need to rest if you want to get better, so let’s sleep as long as we like, okay?”

[buckysforeverprincess]

The Games We Play Ch.2

Dark!Viking James Barnes, Natasha Romanoff, Wanda Maximoff

Words: 1681

Warnings: Plans of murder

A/N: I’ve decided to turn this into a series. It was only meant to be a one shot but then I began floating ideas in my head, so here we are. Viking James Barnes is an epic asshole and I don’t intend to make him soft at all, so if you’re into that kinda thing keep reading. Also, very special thanks to my ride or die @hotoffthepressfics for putting together this amazing moodboard for this series. I appreciate you so much and thanks for all the love and encouragement! Without further ado... Buckle in folks, were going on a bumpy ride! Enjoy!

James walks through the village and makes his way to his house at the back of the muddy road. He quite enjoys the location of his home, somewhat off the beaten path. It offers a little more privacy from the rest of his clan and given the choice he made to take the princess for his own, the added seclusion helps keep the prying eyes of the villagers away and avoids the scrutiny and mindless chatter of those that condemn what he’d done.

 When it comes to taking the young princess, he regrets nothing. In a perfect world, things would’ve been different. James would’ve lived the life he was promised, and the Princess would learn to love him over time as Princesses normally do, but the world was viciously cruel. Promises were always broken, and Kings were nothing but maniacal, murdering, manipulators who left nothing but death in destruction in their wake. James would never feel bad for the part he played and maybe someday the Princess would realize he saved her from the twisted life she would’ve led at the hands of her beloved King.

 “Hey there handsome.”

 A soft female voice has him slow his steps and grin, his head turning in her direction. “I am, aren’t I?” James replies and moves the few steps towards the woman. “What can I do for you, Wanda?”

 The young, brown haired woman slides up to James, reaching out and running her fingers down his chiseled chest through his cloth shirt. “Since you asked… how about you give me what you promised?”

 Wanda was from the clan to the north, her father their leader. The Vikings were friendly towards each other, trading when necessary, aiding in battle when the other called. James at one point thought his own father was going to make him marry Wanda and solidify both clans' loyalty to one another but that was before. Her village suffered the same fate as his, her father and many of the men viciously killed and slaughtered, so now she was here. Waiting to extract her own revenge on the Princess for her father's misdeeds.

 James chuckles and grabs her wrist, removing her hand from his body. “Wanda… you know I can’t do that yet. I told you, this plan will take time. You have to be patient.” He lets go and her arm drops to her side.

 Wanda scowls and glares, her face red and morphing into anger. “You promised! You promised and I want her dead!”

 Sighing, he shakes his head and reaches out to her waist, grabbing it and pulling her flush against his body, feeling the woman tense up underneath him. “I want her dead too, but in order to get what we want this has to play out over time.”

 Licking her lips, Wanda stands on her toes and leans in, pressing her mouth to his in a fiery kiss. “You promised me we’d rule together… be together…,” she reminds him when she breaks the heated kiss, “you said we’d rule our people together. I don’t want to wait, James… I’ve waited too long.”

 James nods and kisses her forehead, trying his best to soothe the woman in his arms. “I know you have but I shared this plan with you and if it’s going to work, she needs to be alive. I can’t kill her yet… she’s with my child.”

 Wanda swallows hard and tears start to form in her eyes. “S-she’s… she’s…”

 “Yes,” James confirms, “so you see… everything’s going according to plan. I made a promise to you and I intend to keep it, it’ll just take time.”

 The young woman is full out crying now, her face covered with tears. “But… I was supposed to have your child… not her!”

 James rolls his eyes and pulls himself away from Wanda. “Did you forget the part where I said she would bear my children?! She’s the Princess, any children we have are rightful heirs to the throne. Of course, she’s going to give birth to my legacy!”

 Wanda glares at him in disbelief. ���And what about our children or are those just empty promises?! Were those just lies to get what you wanted from me?!” She yells, her face red underneath the streaks of tears.

 James shrugs. “You want my children? Fine! They’ll have no claim over the throne but if you’d like I’ll gladly give you my seed, fuck you nice and rough, just how I know you like it.” He smirks and steps towards her again, closing the distance between them once more.

 Wanda sighs and wraps her arms around his neck, her head laying on his firm chest. “Please, James… I miss you… I miss us.”

 “Then you shall have me,” he quickly concedes and kisses her head. “If having my child will be the thing that lets you know I’m yours then so be it.” James lowers his head, his lips finding hers and kisses her softly. “Maybe this time your body will take… it never has before.”

 “I want it now…,” she grips him tighter, pressing herself against him, “I want to carry your child.”

 “Soon. We’ll have our own family. I promise.”

 Wanda inches back enough to look up into James’ eyes, smiling brightly at him. “I’ll hold you to it.”

 James nods and leans back in to kiss her cheek. “Go. I have to check on the Princess.” He begins to back away and turns to head back towards his house.

 “I love you…,” Wanda says and James cringes. He fakes a smile and looks back at the slowly retreating woman.

 “And I you,” James says and hurries to his home, a red head standing at his doorstep, her arms crossed at her chest.

 “How touching.” She smirks as he walks by, opening the door with his strength and slamming it shut once the woman has cleared the way.

 “I want her dead!” James says not even looking at her, stomping his way to the table and slamming down his trusted knife.

 “Quiet or you’ll wake her, and I just got her to sleep, finally.” The woman warns sternly.

 James looks towards the bed and sees the Princess, limp and lifeless but breathing. It’s a wonder she’s so still after his angry entrance.

 “Nat, I want Wanda dead. She was never to be part of this plan.”

 Nat makes her way over to the table and sits down in one of the two chairs, her body facing his. “Guess you should’ve thought about that before you laid down with her and lied.” She reminds him of his own treachery.

 It’s true and he knows it. He never wanted Wanda or anything to do with the arrangement he knew was coming, but he’d live with it if that’s what his father ordered. However, when the King had entered their land and young James saved his life, he happily accepted the offer of an arranged marriage to the Princess with the promise to one day be King. That was the life he wanted, and nothing was going to stop him from achieving that goal.

 “Help me kill her, Nat.” James pulls out the other chair and sits down across from his friend, speaking in hushed tones not to wake the sleeping woman on the other side of the room.

 “And how do you propose we do that? Her men will kill you and then all of this was pointless. Those men are loyal to her just like ours are to you.”

 Nat was right. Any attempt on Wanda’s life would start a revolt by the men she had brought with her to the village, the ones that had survived the slaughter. James knew they’d protect her with their lives, loyalty running deep. There just had to be a way to get them to jump ship and swear their allegiance to him.

 “I can hear you thinking.” Nat smirks and leans in closer to him.

 James chuckles and grins, his eyes looking back to the bed and the Princess. “Wanda wants her dead.”

 “So do you,” Nat reminds him.

 James shakes his head, and looks back to his friend, “Not as much as Wanda. Wanda blames her even though she had nothing to do with the onslaught.”

 “Pot meet kettle.”

 James rolls his eyes. “Maybe so… but what if we used the Princess as bait?”

 “Bait?” Nat glances a look towards the princess to make sure she’s still sleeping and then back at James with a smirk. “I’m listening.”

 “A set up. We give Wanda an opportunity to extract her pound of flesh, leaving the princess alone and vulnerable. Wanda is hungry for a life with me and she hates the Princess. She won’t hesitate to try and kill her if we set it up correctly.” James sits back and crosses his arms to his chest, pleased with himself for coming up with a plan so quickly.

 “Okay… but how do we stop it? If you foil her attempt and kill Wanda, her men will rage war on our village. Are you willing to risk your people to be rid of the constant thorn at your side?”

 James grins and leans back into the table, closing the gap between Nat and himself. “Steven.”

 Nat blinks in confusion not comprehending what the name had to do with this plan. “Steven?”

 “Steven.” James confirms with an overconfident smirk. “My best friend, my brother in arms, the man that everyone trusts and is honest and loyal to a fault. If he interrupts Wanda’s attempt and kills her, he’ll be a hero for saving the Princesses life, because who in their right mind would try to kill anyone that is with child?”

 Nat quietly laughs and nods in agreement. “Remind me never to piss you off. I don’t want to end up one of your marks”

 “I intend to take what was once promised to me...,” James says with a hard determination, his eyes dark and cold, “...and I’ll kill anyone that stands in my way. You have my word and my word is law.”

 Viking Tag:

@ellaprime7​

Forever Tags:

@jamesbarnesappreciationclub @kruscht @palaiasaurus64 @breezy1415 @sarahp879 @supernaturaldean67 @averyrogers83 @scarlettsoldier @lovely-geek @titty-teetee @geeksareunique @peaceinourtime82 @leosandbuckysgirl @the-goddess-of-mischief @mychemicalimagines @awkwardfangirl2014 @collette04 @notyourtypicalrose @onebatch--twobatch @miraclesoflove @kcd15 @xxloki81xx @death-unbecomes-you @thatfanficstuff @hotoffthepressfics @chuuulip @unlikelygalaxygiver @lancetuckershairgel  @babypink224221 @mybabe-buckybarnes @shield-agent78 @the-real-kellymonster @caplanreads

[raleighcarrera]

daylight

open heart | bryce lahela x mc (casey valentine)

gratuitous ‘there’s only one bed’ bed-sharing for @choicesarehard

~5.8k words | M (18+)

casey barely batted an eyelash at the front desk assistant in the wake of her words, seemingly completely uncaring that their reservation had gotten messed up, somehow, leaving them with only one room booked instead of two. “whatever,” she shrugged, taking one of the proffered key cards and heading for the elevator. 

bryce leaned in over the front desk, trying not to panic. “are you sure that’s all you have? can you -- can you check again?”

the receptionist looked pointedly at the line forming behind him. “sir, i’m quite positive. we’re all booked this weekend for the conference.”

“great,” he mumbled under his breath, sighing as he took the other key card and walked off after casey. okay, so they had to share a room. that was fine. that was hardly a big deal. what was the worst that could happen? they’d already seen each other changing at work plenty of times. 

besides, the image of her bare shoulders was practically burned into his brain, at this point. he didn’t need a weekend sleepover to fixate on it.

casey was still waiting for the elevator when he strolled over to her corner of the lobby. “sorry,” he said, just as the doors parted for them to step inside, “i don’t know what happened. i guess they double-booked us.”

“it’s not a big deal,” casey answered easily, “as long as you don’t snore. do you snore?”

bryce laughed. he loved how she always effortlessly lightened the mood. “definitely not. how do i know you don’t snore? maybe i should check with trinh.”

“i don’t snore! come on, you know i’m a perfect angel.”

“right.” he bumped his shoulder into hers playfully as they walked down the hallway towards their room. once they found the door that was theirs, casey tapped her key card and let them inside.

she stopped short in the entranceway, so that he bumped right into her. “oh.”

her voice sounded funny. “what?” bryce leaned over to peer around her shoulder, trying to see what she was looking at.

oh was right. 

there was only one bed.

it stared conspicuously back at them both as they stood there, staring at it.

“uhhhhh...” bryce started awkwardly, clearing his throat, “it’s cool, i’ll take the floor.” 

his words jolted casey to movement, and she stepped the rest of the way inside the room, setting her bag down on the bed. “you don’t have to do that.”

bryce looked at her curiously. “what?”

casey shrugged that same way she had in he lobby -- like none of this mattered to her in the slightest. “we can just share. it’s a king sized bed. it’s huge.”

her casual attitude made him wonder if maybe he was being weird. maybe casey didn’t think this was as big a deal as he did -- though that felt more than a little disheartening. maybe she didn’t think it was a big deal because she didn’t feel the way he felt about her. maybe the thought of sleeping next to him in the same bed didn’t make her pulse race, like it did to him. 

...maybe he was overthinking things.

“okay,” he said finally, trying to sound as casual as she did. he shot her a grin before strolling to the window and pulling the curtains open. it was a beautiful, sunny day in san diego, and as he looked out over their view, bryce spared a thought for their poor friends, stuck at home in boston while he and casey were here, representing the hospital. 

she stepped up beside him, seemingly reading his mind. “man, those guys at home are suck-ers. i can’t believe none of them wanted to come to this.”

“i know, right?” he leaned his forearm against the window, looking out at the hotel’s pool, down below them. “they don’t know what they’re missing. a couple hours of lectures, and then we’ll have our run of this place. it’s going to be awesome.”

“it’s such a nice day,” casey sighed wistfully, her gaze following his down to the pool. “i wish we had time for a swim.”

he shrugged. “we’ll make time. there has to be something we can cut out of early.”

“i like where you’re head’s at.” she leaned over and nudged her shoulder against his. “i’m gonna go get changed, then we can hit the conference.”

“sounds good.” casey disappeared into the bathroom with her bag, and he looked down at what he was wearing, figuring he should probably do the same. 

he was still trying to decide between shirts when casey reemerged. bryce looked over his shoulder at her with a smile. “oh, so it’s like that. i guess i should dress up, too, huh?”

casey seemed -- startled. “what?” her eyes darted around the room. “i guess? i just thought... since we’re here on behalf of the hospital... you know. um, you should get dressed.”

“well, i’m definitely going to get dressed in something. i don’t think the rest of the conference could handle me otherwise.” he grinned at her as he finally reached for a shirt and shrugged it on. casey waited until all his buttons were done up before she looked at him again. her cheeks were suspiciously pink. maybe it was too warm in the room for her. “how’s this?”

she exhaled heavily. “it’s great, we should go.” she turned abruptly and started for the door.

huh. that was weird. bryce followed behind her, jogging to catch up to her at the elevator. “so, what’s the game plan? there’s a presentation i want to get to about some new advancements in surgery at twelve.”

casey’s eyes scanned the show floor. “i think i’ll be okay for a little bit. come find me afterwards?”

“for sure.” 

the morning flew by in a blur. when he’d agreed to attend the conference, it’d been mostly because of the free trip to somewhere warm -- that, and casey had already volunteered, and he was desperate for some time alone with her, away from the hospital. but the material that was being presented proved to be more interesting than he’d anticipated, and bryce welcomed the opportunity to zone out and think only about work for a few hours, giving himself free reign to geek out completely over new surgical technology.

he forgot to look for her until late in the afternoon, and finally found her in what looked like a hostage situation with an ancient pharma rep. her eyes were seemingly begging for a rescue -- especially when she noticed him, and they went wide with a silent plea.

bryce pursed his lips to suppress a smile. “hey, dr. valentine!” he greeted, over-enthusiastic as he approached. “long time, no see. what’ve you been up to? we absolutely have to catch up.” he offered the man that was with her his most charming smile. 

“of course,” casey nodded. he rested a hand on the small of her back to turn her away, and she went gratefully, pivoting towards the other direction. “if you’ll excuse me.”

he laughed as they hurried away, ducking his head on a grin when casey reached down, grabbed his hand and squeezed it hard. “thank you,” she sighed emphatically, “i thought i’d never be able to get out of that. you’re my hero.”

“i try. sorry i didn’t come find you sooner, i got wrapped up in the sickest demo.”

“it’s fine -- i guess i should’ve expected you’d be easily distracted by something shiny.”

“hey,” he laughed, laying a hand over his heart, “your words hurt, you know.”

“sorry.” the smile casey shot him would’ve eased any sting, even if he wasn’t just joking with her. god, she was so pretty. “can we go swimming now? i think i’m tapped on professional talk.”

“you and me both.” he glanced around before they ducked out of the room, but couldn’t spot a single familiar face in the crowd. there wasn’t anyone here who knew them, or anyone who was looking for them. for once, they were... pretty much invisible.

as if she was reading his mind, casey said, “it’s kind of nice being anonymous, right? no one here is looking at me like i’m casey valentine, boston’s biggest medical disaster.” 

“no one at edenbrook is looking at you that way, either, you know,” he felt compelled to remind her, “you were cleared by the board. as far as everyone’s concerned, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

“i don’t think that’s true as far as everyone’s concerned.” he frowned at her, but casey didn’t clarify, staring thoughtfully out of the glass walls of the elevator as it climbed back to the floor of their room. after a moment, she shook her head. “i’m glad it’s you here with me. there’s no one else i’d rather be anonymous with.”

“hard same,” he said, forcefully ignoring the way his heart leapt into his throat. she was just being nice. she had to be. “now get changed so we can make that swim-up bar wish they never opened.”

by now he was pretty practiced in the art of absolutely not staring at her when she was dressed in anything less than her scrubs and coat, so it didn’t take much for him to tactfully avert his eyes when casey stepped out in her bikini. 

most of the hotel occupants were still inside -- the pool was pretty much empty when they arrived. the bartenders almost looked bored. bryce smirked as they dropped their stuff on a couple of chairs and made their way over. that was about to change.

casey ordered them each a shot and then something that he was sure by the name alone contained equal parts of juice and alcohol -- the formula that never failed to give him a wicked hangover. but he didn’t complain, and only shook his head when the bartender placed two hollowed out pineapples with big, fancy drink umbrellas in front of them.

she ignored the juice-nightmare and picked up her shot glass. “to our second year,” she declared, knocking it against his. tequila splashed out over his thumb.

“to our second year,” bryce echoed, lifting the glass to his lips and knocking back the shot. he grimaced as he sunk his teeth into the lime, sucking the rest of the tequila off his fingers where casey had spilled it. “god, those are vile.”

casey smacked her lips together with a shrug. “i like them. want another one?”

bryce laughed. “slow down. by the time you finish this thing, you’re going to be trashed. we’ll see about another shot then.”

“suit yourself.” she shrugged, leaning in over the pineapple and drinking deeply from the straw. “okay, you have to try this. it’s soooooo good.”

predictably, it was cloyingly sweet -- so much so, that he dangerously couldn’t even taste whatever alcohol it was full of. “it tastes like i’m going to have to carry you back to the room later.”

casey’s head tipped back with a laugh. the sight of her smile put an unstoppable grin on his face. he wondered if making her laugh would ever stop feeling like a major victory.

they left the bar and stepped out into the sun with their drinks. casey sat down on the side of the pool, by the steps, and dangled her legs in the water. his eyes were drawn to the way they stretched out in front of her, and he shook his head as he instead waded down the steps and into the shallow end of the pool, up to his waist. it’d probably do him some good to cool off.

“what d’you feel like doing tonight?” she asked, kicking her feet back and forth. 

“hmmm. if you’re not passed out by 6:30, i guess i’ll buy you dinner.” 

she scoffed indignantly, kicking her foot up so water splashed him in the chest. “hey! i’m not going to pass out. it’s just a few drinks.”

“uh huh.” his voice was flat with disbelief. “out in the sun. on an empty stomach. and you’re, you know -- tiny.”

“i am not.” she kicked both feet this time, splashing him harder. reflexively, bryce’s hand swung out and grabbed her ankle.

“cut it out,” he laughed, “or i’ll dunk you.”

“you wouldn’t dare.” 

she seemed very sure of herself. bryce tugged on her leg, just enough to make her slip forward an inch on the side of the pool. he was gratified by the way casey immediately shrieked, twisting in his hold as she tried to wiggle away.

“don’t!”

“relax,” he laughed, drumming his fingers on the bare skin of her calf before reluctantly letting her go, dropping casey’s leg back into the water, “i’ll wait until you finish your drink.”

the only problem was that by the time she finished her drink, casey was starting to get giggly, touchy and loud when she slipped into the water with him and started splashing. she always seemed to have the ability to make him forget absolutely everything on his mind in favor of having fun, and today was no exception. he felt half-drunk just from laughing with her, letting her play at wrestling him in the water until the sun set and they started to get cold.

“c’mon, michael phelps,” he said finally, his gaze fond and affectionate as it lingered on the line of her chattering jaw, “let’s get you upstairs.”

casey leaned on him for support as they made their way back to the room, mumbling sleepily under his arm. bryce made sure to nod along dutifully to everything she said, humming his agreement to keep her placated. 

“why don’t you take the first shower? i’ll order room service.”

casey pouted at him as he finally let her go in the doorway to the bathroom. “you’re not coming with me?”

his laugh was high-pitched, caught off guard. “into the shower?”

she nodded. “i need help.” 

well... maybe he could just get her situated. he moved further into the bathroom to turn the shower on, reaching for casey’s elbow to help guide her gently into the tub. instantly, she started wrestling with her bikini top, tugging at the straps.

he backed away as quickly as he possibly could. “okay, looks like you’re all set. i’ll be right out here, just call if you need anything.” 

the words were exhaled in a rush, and he pulled the door shut behind him with finality before she could argue. jesus.

somehow, she was even more adorable when she came out of the shower. she was wearing one of the fluffy hotel robes and had her hair in a towel; casey was sunburned across her nose and cheeks. she bounced down onto the bed with a big grin. her eyes lit up when she saw all the food he’d ordered. “oooooh, pancakes!”

this was going to be the longest night of his life. he swallowed, heading to the shower. “yep -- i’ll be right back.”

bryce locked the door, trying not to think about the fact that she’d just been in here, naked -- but it was hard to ignore when he almost slipped on her wet bikini and broke his neck. he glared at his reflection in the half-fogged mirror. get a grip. now.

the shower helped clear his head somewhat. he stayed under the spray for longer than he probably should have, until the water ran cold. the only thing that forced him out was the thought of whatever food casey had left, and eventually, he couldn’t ignore his growling stomach any longer. tucking one of the towels around his waist, he stepped out of the bathroom, wary of the quiet that greeted him.

casey had gotten changed into her pajamas while he was showering, and her hair was out of the towel, now, loose and long and damp across her pillow. empty plates sat around her on the bed. she smiled softly at him when he walked towards his bag to grab something to wear. “i left you the burger.”

“thanks.” it was dark outside, now, so the glow from the tv was the only thing illuminating her. she looked almost unfairly beautiful, and, not for the first time, he wondered how he was supposed to sleep next to her tonight and keep his hands to himself like a good friend would. this sucked.

he ducked back into the bathroom to change, forcing himself not to think too much about it. he could act normal around her -- he’d been getting pretty good at it, actually, back in boston. he doubted she had a clue about the way he really felt -- he’d been careful to keep it that way.

bryce’s pep-talk motivated him enough to make it through his burger, only sneaking glances her way. casey had her eyes on the tv, half-lidded, absently scrolling through her phone on the commercials. she was curled up under the covers, closer to the center of the bed than he thought she’d be. she was dangerously close to being on his side of the mattress.

bryce took his time clearing away everything from their room service order, brushing his teeth, making sure everything was back in his bag -- anything to delay getting in bed. finally, there wasn’t any more avoiding it. he pulled back the sheets on the empty side of the mattress and slipped in beside her.

she rolled onto her side and grinned at him. “hi.”

“hey,” he laughed, trying not to seem as nervous as he felt. “fancy meeting you here.”

casey giggled, the sound morphing into a wide yawn halfway through. “that sun really kicked my ass,” she murmured, rubbing her cheek against the pillow. fuck, it was so cute.

“you’re a lightweight,” he ribbed gently, his eyes lingering on the easy slant of her smile. “you’d never make it out in hawaii.”

her brow furrowed, and she frowned at him. “yes i would,” she argued, sunburned and exhausted, drunk from one pineapple cocktail. a rush of affection for her made the shake of his head fond.

“you should get some sleep. we have a long day of lectures tomorrow.”

she sighed, pushing nearer to the center of the bed. her cheek was resting on the very edge of her pillow, right where it met his. before bryce could stop himself, he rolled in closer, too, until they were just a few inches apart. under the sheets, her hand reached out and lightly rested on his arm.

“bryce...” casey started, her voice hushed -- almost thoughtful. up close, her eyes were very wide and very, very pretty. she leaned in, until he could count every single one of her eyelashes. 

unwillingly, his gaze dropped to her lips. before he could stop her, casey closed the last breath of distance between them and kissed him.

fireworks exploded behind his eyelids. bryce shifted on the sheets, leaning into her touch. the hand she had on his arm squeezed encouragingly, and then casey twisted her fingers in the sleeve of his shirt and leaned forward to kiss him harder. for a moment, he let himself give in, greedily swallowing the happy sigh she exhaled into his mouth, kissing her back just as eagerly as she was kissing him. 

god, he’d been wanting this. it felt undeniably amazing, like flying -- like excelling in surgery, like graduating med school, like winning at anything mundane that soothed his competitive streak nonetheless. his hand reached up to tangle in her hair as he took advantage of her parted lips, slipping his knee between her legs.

then, alarm bells started ringing off in the back of his mind, pushing through the fog her lips had brought with them. what was he doing?

bryce reached up and pushed her away, breathing hard. casey’s eyes flew open and she stared at him in surprise, her cheeks flushed beneath her sunburn. “what’s wrong?”

his stomach twisted. “you’re drunk.” here she was -- everything he’d ever wanted, presented to him in a way he couldn’t accept. fuck.

“i’m not,” she insisted, but her eyes were glassy. he’d spent enough time with drunk casey to recognize her when he saw her. 

“you are,” bryce repeated gently, “so we can’t --”

“look, if you don’t want to --”

she was starting to sound annoyed. he sighed. “i do want to. more than anything, but... not like this, okay? i want you to -- know what you’re doing, if we ever...” 

he trailed off, looking away. he’d imagined it a thousand times, in a million different scenarios. he’d given it more thought than he probably should have -- more thought than a good friend of hers would. he’d always assumed that maybe it would happen after a night out where she was still clearheaded enough to be sure, maybe on a weekend they weren’t working -- maybe if he ever bit the bullet and asked her to dinner, maybe after that...

but not like this. 

“i know what i’m doing, bryce.” she was glaring at him. in none of the scenarios he’d imagined was she looking at him like that. “but since you obviously don’t want to, i’ll just go to bed.”

his jaw clenched as he bit back another sigh, and he scrubbed his hand down the front of his face with frustration. “casey --”

she abruptly turned around to face the wall, rolling away from him, back onto her side of the bed. “goodnight, bryce.”

right. like he could sleep now. 

eventually he managed, somehow, though when his alarm went off he felt like he’d barely slept a wink, groggy and disoriented and annoyed.

he stared at the ceiling as it all slowly came back to him, worsening his headache. he knew without turning his head that casey was still in bed with him, and he privately let himself feel a twinge of irritation at her, for getting so mad at him last night. 

it seemed ridiculous that she could ever think he wouldn’t want to kiss her. casey was smarter than that -- she should have known how he felt. 

although... he hadn’t exactly told her. bryce’s eyes narrowed up at the ceiling, his annoyance giving way to determination. before he could talk himself out of it, like he had so many other times before in the interest of preserving their friendship, he turned towards the center of the bed. bryce reached out and shook casey’s shoulder until she opened her eyes.

“what? i’m up, what?”

“are you sober?”

“huh? i’m hungover, if that’s what you’re asking --” 

he closed the distance between them, cutting her off with a kiss. casey stilled against him, and for a moment he felt delirious with panic, the sound of his heartbeat abnormally loud in his ears. fuck. fuck. fuck. you’re an idiot. you fucked it all up. 

of course she’d only kissed him last night because she’d been drunk. now things were going to be weird -- and they were friends, and he loved hanging out with her -- and everyone else was going to know things were weird --

casey shifted against the sheets, pressing her lips more firmly to his. she started to kiss him back, sighing sweetly into his mouth. her hands rested gently on his shoulders and she pulled him closer, lining up her body against his.

somehow this felt even more panic-inducing, ratcheting his pulse up further. he’d kissed a lot of girls before, but none of them had ever made him feel like this.

his hand laid hesitantly on her waist, his touch carefully light. but he kept kissing her back, slowly moving his lips against hers. after a moment, she reached down and pushed his hand up under her top confidently, until his palm brushed against the bare skin of her stomach.

bryce jerked forward in surprise, but recovered easily enough, deciding to roll with the punches. his hand moved around to her back, pushing her shirt up, and he nudged her in closer until she shifted to throw a leg over his waist; casey’s fingers ran through his hair, pulling him effortlessly out of his own head. 

he let her roll on top of him, welcoming her happily into his lap. she leaned down until their chests were pressed together, kissing him more forcefully -- more like the way he’d always imagined she’d kiss, headstrong like she did everything else.

she gasped against his lips when his fingertips dragged up her spine, and that was what finally made him break apart from her. he opened his eyes to meet hers. “are you okay?”

“yeah,” she confirmed. her eyes swept his face like she couldn’t quite believe what she was seeing. “are you sure you want to --”

he leaned in and cut her off with another kiss, the movement of his lips softer this time to match how tender he felt towards her. she swatted playfully at his shoulder.

“stop doing that.”

“sorry,” he said unapologetically, smiling. “yeah, of course i’m sure. i’ve wanted to do this for -- pretty much forever. i just wanted to be sure that you were sure. and last night...”

“don’t.” casey shook her head. she bit her lip on a smile. “i get it. and i appreciate it. i didn’t mean to get pissed at you. it just felt like... you were turning me down.”

“do you think i’m that stupid? i know you give me a lot of shit for my pretty face, but there is actually a brain up here.” bryce grinned unabashedly up at her, gratified by the way she laughed. 

“i mean -- i guess i kind of always thought maybe... you liked me, but... i don’t know! sometimes it seemed you were like that with everyone, or you were just being friendly...” her voice trailed off, and she shrugged. 

he shook his head. “it wasn’t for everyone. it was just for you.”

the sound she made had him feeling warm all over. casey ducked her head, her hair obscuring the expression on her face -- which just wouldn’t do, so he lifted his hand to brush her hair behind her ear, instead, cupping her cheek until she met his eyes.

casey trailed her fingers over the fabric of his t-shirt, making him shiver. “if we don’t start getting ready, we’re going to be late.”

he knew she was right. still... “i don’t care.”

she huffed out a laugh, drawing circles over his chest with the tip of her index finger. “i care. everyone’s going to grill us on what we learned when we get back on monday. we’ll need something to tell them.”

“we can make it up,” he suggested desperately, reaching for her hips to keep her exactly where she was. “check out the online highlights on our flight back. there has to be a summary somewhere.”

“bryce,” she chided, but it looked like she was wavering. he craned his head to press a kiss to the underside of her jaw, slowly moving down her neck. casey sighed breathlessly, tilting her head to the side. “bryce.”

“what?” his mouth moved slowly over her skin, down towards her collarbone. “i’m not doing anything.”

“right,” she sighed, obviously considering his suggestion. she was quiet for a moment, as his lips trailed dangerously low toward the neckline of her tank top, and then she pushed his head away. “c’mon. we’ll pick this back up later.”

he squeezed her hips one last time before she slipped away. “promise?”

casey reached for one of the pillows beside him and whacked him with it before she jumped off the bed. “promise, now hurry up! we’re going to be late.” 

they weren’t. they made it into the first lecture with about ninety seconds to spare, slipping into the back of the audience and taking the last two seats together. 

he tried his best to focus on whatever the expert was saying, but it wasn’t as easy as he’d hoped when casey’s promise kept coming back to him. we’ll pick this back up later.

bryce spent most of the day fidgeting restlessly, bouncing his leg, tapping his fingers on his knee, trying to find excuses to touch casey whenever possible. it was almost impossible to think about anything else, other than what she might’ve meant by this and when they could get to later. 

his impatience only got worse when a group of other residents their age invited them to a happy hour and casey grinned widely, like she had no other plans or no where else to be. “sure, sounds fun! we’ll see you over there.”

as he tugged her towards the elevator, she looked at him in confusion. “why are we going upstairs? do you want to change or something?”

“or something,” he mumbled, glancing pointedly at the other people waiting for the elevator and then back to her, his gaze heavy with intent.

he could see the moment she caught on, realization dawning across her expression. casey ducked her head on a wide grin as the elevator climbed to their floor.

as soon as the doors opened, bryce grabbed her wrist and pulled her through the crowd. “excuse us.”

casey laughed as she stumbled out after her. they both rushed down the hallway to the door of their room, and bryce tapped his key card as quickly as he possibly could, turning around once the door was open to pull casey inside.

she bounced up on her toes to kiss him, throwing her arms around his neck. his hands settled at the small of her back and lifted her up until she was close enough that he could kiss her hard, groaning against her lips. 

the door swung shut behind them with a bang. bryce ignored it, walking them both over to the bed. he laid casey down gently onto her back and crawled over her without separating their lips, as close as he could get. 

casey was tugging insistently at the collar of his shirt. he huffed a laugh against her lips, breaking away to move his mouth down the side of her neck he hadn’t yet explored. “impatient?”

“you have no idea,” she mumbled, seemingly focusing all her attention on undoing the buttons of his shirt. “it feels like i’ve been thinking about this for forever.”

“you?” he demanded, laughing incredulously. “please. if you could spend even one minute inside my head...” 

his voice trailed off meaningfully. casey’s head tipped back against the mattress, shooting him a heart-stopping grin. “oh, yeah?”

“yes.” he had no idea how he could ever begin to articulate the way he felt to her -- how much he liked her, how smart, beautiful, cool and passionate he thought she was -- how much time he spent thinking about her exactly like this and a number of other ways, too, asleep in his arms and waking up to kiss him good morning and sneaking off in the hospital with him to hook up somewhere quiet...

so he’d have to show her.

in the morning, he woke up much the same way as the day before -- disoriented, a little grumpy, a little confused -- but also wholly different.

casey was asleep soundly in his arms, her back against his chest. his face was buried in the space between her neck and shoulder, her hair tickling his face and filling his nose with the scent of hotel shampoo. 

she was naked.

his life rocked.

bryce hid his smile in her hair and let himself fall back asleep. when he woke again, it was because casey’s alarm was going off, reminding them they had to leave for the airport, soon.

she groaned. he pressed a kiss to the back of her neck, nuzzling her bare skin. “morning, you.”

“morning.” casey sighed, turning over in his arms to face him. “do we really have to go?”

he pressed the briefest kiss to her lips. it was over too quickly. “yeah. but if we hurry -- we can probably fit in a shower first.”

“mmmm.” casey kissed him again, running her hands over his bare shoulders. “you mean... if we saved time and showered together, right?”

“duh.”

he didn’t start getting nervous until they were actually on the plane. casey kept him pretty distracted up until then -- pulling him into the shower, joking with him through security, buying him breakfast once they made it to their gate. he let himself get caught up in how right it felt to hold her hand and kiss her whenever he wanted and be on the receiving end of those sweet, private smiles she kept sending his way, and forgot to panic about what would happen once they were back in boston until they’d left the ground.

he couldn’t help but to think about it now, though. a glance at casey confirmed that it hardly seemed like anything was on her mind at all -- she was eating a chocolate bar slowly, breaking it off, square by square. there was a celebrity tabloid in her lap that she hadn’t opened yet.

bryce gently nudged his shoulder into hers. “hey.”

“hey,” she returned easily, looking up at him with a smile. “something on your mind?”

he blinked. “actually -- yeah.”

casey laughed. “i could hear you thinking. it sounded painful.”

there she was again, making him laugh -- distracting him from his own wild thoughts, getting him out of his head and lightening some of the weight on his shoulders. “shut up.”

“seriously, what is it? you can tell me.”

he drew in a breath. “it’s just -- i guess i’m just thinking about what’s going to happen... when we get home. with us.”

“oh.” she seemed to consider it for the first time. “well -- i guess it’ll probably take everyone awhile to stop making fun of us. but we don’t work together much, so i can’t imagine we’d have to tell anyone at edenbrook. uh, why are you looking at me like that?”

he was stunned. “i just -- i guess i didn’t expect you to say that. i’m obviously -- thrilled, don’t get me wrong, but... are you sure you don’t want some time to think about it first?”

casey shrugged. bryce watched as she finished her chocolate bar and dusted off her hands. without hesitating, she reached over and grabbed his hand, linking their fingers together. “i don’t need to,” she answered simply. “i know this is what i want. do you?”

he nodded, letting the awe and admiration he felt for her in that moment show plainly on his face. “yes,” he answered, “this is -- perfect. even better than i’d imagined.”

“good.” she leaned her head on his shoulder, looking out the window. bryce followed her gaze, watching the clouds as they passed them by. “‘cause you’re gonna have to get used to it. dating me is going to be an experience.”

he laughed, squeezing her hand again before slumping down in his seat, finally able to relax. “you and me both, babe.”

[issa-me-addy]

Better Than Words (OC x Bucky Barnes) 

Corner’s

PART ONE/?

A/N: HELLO welcome to my chaos. This takes place in an AU after Spiderman: Homecoming where the Avengers have reassembled and the following all live in the Avengers tower: Tony, Pepper, Steve, Bucky, Natasha, Wanda and Vision. Peter Parker’s identity is still intact and he spends his free time training at the Avengers tower under a “Stark internship”. 

also here is my masterlist! 

Word Count: 2261

Warnings: fluff, mild angst, and slow burn 

New city. New apartment. New job. New life. 

Maya was ready, though. After living in her parents house up until her mid 20s, she was beyond prepared to leave and get the change of scenery she’s been craving since middle school. And with everything she did, everybody could see how sure of this she was.

She did everything without hesitation. She said yes to the Midtown School of Science and Technology without even taking the time offered to think about it. She signed the lease to the first studio apartment she found in Manhattan and she started packing the moment she knew the job and the apartment were hers. 

By the beginning of June, Maya had moved everything to New York and was pushing her parents out of her apartment. But of course they insisted on staying. 

“Just one night! I can make you dinner and help you organize the kitchen. We’ll be out of your hair by the morning.” Her mom practically begged, as she was, quite frankly very anxious about the entire move. 

And of course Dad agreed, “I could install your shelves and build your bed frame so you don’t sleep on a mattress on the floor tonight.” 

But Maya needed this. She couldn’t wait another night to fully embrace the reality of her new life. 

“No, it is fine! Really!” Maya was already grabbing her mom’s purse, and fishing her dad’s keys out of the pile of junk on the kitchen counter. “I want you guys on the road before it gets too dark. Just make sure you call me when you get back to Philly!” 

And through bewildered arguments at the daughter’s new found independence, Maya continued to walk them towards the door. She managed to yell over them, and then physically pushed them out of the apartment, “I love you! Drive safe! Dad, make sure to use your turn signals!” 

And like a coming of age film, she closed the door, fixed all the locks, and pressed her back against the door of her studio, her eyes scanning the first thing that was completely and utterly hers. She took a breath and felt excitement like no other started to fill her veins. 

Maya spent the rest of the night fixing the bathroom and then the kitchen. By 3 in the morning she was freshly showered and sitting on the floor of her living room with her back pressed against the couch. She smiled at the cluttered space, a piece of pizza in her hand, and Shrek 2 spinning in the DVD player. 

For the next two weeks Maya spent her days unpacking, arranging, decorating, reading, online shopping, rearranging, and singing at the top of her lungs.

Most afternoons she’d go downstairs to the Corner Cafe that was renting the apartment to her. Maya would sit and work on transfer paperwork, brainstorm potential classroom setups, and draft book lists for the Fall semester. Every now and then she’d make conversation with the barista, a high school student named MJ. Maya would ask about local bookstores, where to get the best Thai food, and eventually about Midtown. They both laughed when they realized they’d probably be spending the school year together. Needless to say, Maya and MJ got along really well. 

-- 

The following Friday afternoon, the Cafe was a bit more crowded. But all the same, Maya sat at her corner table by the pick up counter. She had always gravitated towards this spot, but now it was mostly to chat with MJ when things got slow and to cheer her on during the rushes. And MJ definitely needed a lot of support this shift. 

And then to Maya’s disbelief Natasha Romanoff walked in. 

It was an interesting scenario considering everyone knew who the Avengers were now, but what was far more interesting to Maya was the way no one paid any mind to her presence. She figured it was true what they said about New York: everyone just minded their own business, really. In any case, Maya didn’t feel any strong emotions towards being in the presence of known vigilantes, but she couldn’t help but feel her muscles tense when Natasha stood at the side of her table. 

A few moments passed and before Maya could properly comprehend what she was doing, she opened her mouth. “Would you like to sit?” 

Natasha was taken aback but nodded appreciatively, smiled and pulled the chair opposite to Maya and sat down. “Thanks, stranger.” Natasha’s knees were facing the counter though, an elbow each on the back of her chair and another on the table they were now sharing. 

A handful of moments passed again and Maya let out an exasperated groan after realizing that she, yet again, sent the wrong attachment to her new boss. 

Natasha’s fingers were now rapping rhythmically, against the wooden table top and then she spoke up. “Rough day?” 

Maya was a bit razzled, despite the fact that she was the one that opened up the possibility of a conversation just moments ago. “Uh, yes and no? It's just a new job. It's a bit overwhelming, you know?” 

It was only after the words came out of her mouth that Maya realized she shouldn’t have said her job was overwhelming to a person who fought crime for a living. She bit her tongue and braced herself for a laugh but it didn’t come. 

“You’ll get a hang of it.” It was at this moment that MJ called Natasha’s name out. She stood and pushed in her chair before grabbing the little white baggy off the counter. “Try one of the pastries. I promise it’ll make you feel a bit better; they’re the best in the whole city.” 

Maya gave her a small smile and a nod, “I’ll do that! Have a good night.” 

“You too, Stranger.” Natasha proceeded to pinch the little bag between her teeth, rummaging through her pockets and walking towards the exit 

-- 

In the following weeks, the interactions only became more frequent. It was probably every other day that the two would see each other at Corners. 

At first it was Hellos and Goodbyes but eventually Natasha would sit at the same table with Maya while waiting for her order to be ready, not that it ever took all that long. Before the end of the month, the two exchanged names and Maya was happy to find that Natasha actually preferred to be called Nat. 

Shortly after the proper introductions Nat started to enjoy her pastry at the table with Maya before leaving. 

Very quickly, Maya grew tired of the same courteous conversations and started talking about her new teaching job and Nat helped in large part with all of Maya’s online shopping decisions. Sometimes Maya was afraid of coming off as self centered but she was pretty wary of asking Nat about her life outside of the coffee shop. But, fortunately Nat was much more interested in classroom decor and keeping updated with Maya’s personal challenge of trying every possible drink MJ was willing to make. 

By July, Nat started bringing the other Avengers by for coffee runs. 

Maya immediately hit it off with Steve. After finding out that Maya was a literature teacher, Steve would talk about how reading was his favorite pastime pre-serum and that he’d love to visit the classroom one day. He even geeked about the latte art that MJ would do in the wide mouth mugs for Maya. She and Nat did not miss the opportunity to laugh about this when Steve excused himself to use the bathroom. 

It was peculiar though. Nat would tease that Maya and Steve were a literal match made in heaven. She’d go on about their overlapping interests and how smoothly they got along from the beginning. Maya had to think about it, though. On one hand, Maya thought, who wouldn’t want to be of interest to Captain America himself? 

But alas, Maya was the kind of girl who believed in the kind of love that you felt in your gut. And despite the blush on her cheeks when Nat talked about the two of them, Maya didn’t feel it in her gut. 

Weeks had passed and Maya had grown accustomed to greeting Nat, Steve, Pepper, Sam & Wanda whenever they made their way into Corners. None of them really stopped to chat, except for Nat and Steve, but Maya thought it was still nice to share small smiles and waves with the rest of them. 

In the back of her mind, Maya thought a lot about the rest of the Avengers. She was well aware of Tony Stark and heard things about Vision in passing, but Nat eventually clarified that Tony doesn’t get his own coffee and Vision still doesn’t entirely comprehend the act of food consumption. 

Truly, Maya was most curious about Steve’s best friend, Bucky. Steve did talk about him in passing from time to time but Maya knew to not straightforwardly ask about him. She knew the bare minimum about The Winter Soldier from the Daily Bugle and the tabloids. And knowing that Steve was his best friend, Maya bit her tongue despite all the questions flooding her mind whenever his name came up. 

It was the last week of July when Nat finally brought Bucky to Corners. 

-- 

In Maya’s mind, aside from meeting Nat, Bucky’s introduction was the most memorable. When she thought long and hard about it, it was mostly because of the fact that Bucky’s first impression was distinctly different from the rest of them-- less chirpy, you could say. 

When the two of them walked in, Nat basically made a beeline for Maya’s little table and greeted her right away. 

“Hey, Nat! Pastry or coffee today?” Maya hummed, barely looking up from her laptop. She was intensely focused on finishing a thought about her lesson plan before properly opening herself up to conversation. 

Nat sat to the right of Maya, her back facing the counter. Then, Nat gestured for Bucky to sit in her usual spot, across from Maya. 

“Pastries! I caught ol’ Bucky here snagging some of my extras in the middle of the night, so I decided to let him in on the secret.” 

Maya nodded before properly looking up, “Sounds like quite the racoon to me,” a small smile forming on her face. Then she lifted her eyes from her computer screen and there he was. Maya’s stomach turned in the most peculiar way.  

Bucky had on a hoodie and his hair was tied up in a low ponytail. The hood wasn’t up on his head but instead fluffed up enough to come up around the bottom of his ears and his hands were in his pocket, resting in his lap underneath the table. He seemed hesitant to hold any eye contact with her, which Maya didn’t take offense to, but he did manage to look at her for a moment. 

He gave the smallest acknowledging grin before saying, “Hello, I’m James.” 

Nat was preoccupied during this small moment, busy trying to wave down MJ who was in the middle of pulling a shot of espresso. “MJ! Just the pastries today, but make it a double order, please!” 

Nat turned back to Maya before she could properly introduce herself to Bucky.

“Yeah, he caught me with a jam filled one last week and has been snatching them ever since.” 

Maya smiled at this. “So what? The jig is up? Everyone in the tower knows that tough Natasha Romanoff is obsessed with flakey pastries?” She loved to tease Nat, but some of her joy was being overcome by the tension she was creating in her own mind about even looking at Bucky. 

Hearing him chuckle at her remark did help her muscles ease up though. 

“Ha. Ha,” Nat dully retorted. “The only reason I decided to share my secret with him is because he won’t tell a soul. It’d be much easier for me to gain my dignity back if I got caught, but he would lose most of, if not all of his tough guy credentials.” 

Maya giggled in response before looking straight into Bucky’s eyes and reassuring him, “Don’t worry. Even if you get caught I think Corner’s pastries are well worth losing your street cred.” 

Bucky chuckled and brought his flesh hand up to rub his index finger underneath his nose. “I think you’re right, doll. I’d risk it all for another raspberry one.” 

Maya felt a wave of mixed emotions following Bucky’s response. She felt her skin grow hot after processing the outdated nickname and only hoped that her complexion wasn’t visibly compromised. All the while though, she was glad to have been able to have any kind of conversation with him. 

Fortunately for Maya, she didn’t have to withstand that burning feeling for much longer because MJ called out Nat’s name and she was quick as a cat to grab the little white bags off the counter. 

Nat patted her hand on Maya’s shoulder, not even bothering to sit back down. She looked at Bucky and nodded her head towards the door. “Alright, Maya! We’re out. I’ll see you next time.” 

“Yeah, get back safe,” Maya responded, her hand reached up and patted Nat’s knuckles as Bucky pushed in his chair. “It was nice to meet you, James.” 

“You too, Maya,” and with that, Bucky gave a small wave and pulled his hood up as he and Nat made their way out the door and down the street. 

Maya watched until they were out of sight. 

—

TAGS: @asuperconfusedgirl

[perriewinklenerdie]

Wanted (Ethan Ramsey x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

Author’s note: Hello, hello, hello! We can all say a nice ‘thank you’ to @usuallyamazinglyaverage and @kittykatchoices for showing me a prompt list, cause this fic is based on one of them. You can very potentially expect some Christmas-themed fics, but if I will be able to pull them of, that remains to be seen I guess :D

AO3 link:

 https://archiveofourown.org/works/21698563

Tag list:   @paleweasels , @lilyofchoices , @hopelessromantic1352 , @aloehasrose , @valiantlychaoticbarbarian , @radlovedreamer , @usuallyamazinglyaverage, @palestazure, @cordoniaqueensworld, @universallypizzataco, @princess-geek, @faithhasnowords, @mightyfangirlofthefandoms, @drakewalkerfantasy, @timmagicktoad, @laceandlula, @greywitchyshots, @llamasgrl, @gingerjane15, @bucket-harrington , @marywrites-things , @ethanplaysfavorites , @mfackenthal , @betelgeusebee , @simsvetements,  @i-only-signed-up-for-fanfiction, @buzz-bee-buzz, @owleyes374, @cora-nova, @aworldoffandoms, @l822, @cream-ray, @ughhhxjazzy, @silverlitskies, @justendlesssummerfeels, @togetherwearerapture, @desmaranj, @edgiestwinter, @friedherringclodthing, @daisy-ashton, @waytooattuned, @choicesgremlin , @lapisreviewsstuff, @the-soot-sprite, @writerapprentice, @chasingrobbie,@choicesobsessedd, @cassiusownsmyass, @x-kyne-x, @thisperfectmemory, @drakewalker04, @rookie-ramsey, @jlynn12273, @thepinknymph @dr-brianna-casey-valentine, @a-i-n-a-a-s-h

Enjoy! <3

-----------------

Snow was falling from the sky, blinding her as she ran after him, her breathing elevated. Her coat wasn’t giving her the heat she needed in the cool air, her scarf falling off her shoulders, leaving her neck open for the blasts of chill. Her feet were moving faster than ever before in her life, and it still wasn’t fast enough.

“Ethan! Wait- you’re taller than me, dammit, your legs are longer! I can’t walk that fast and you damn well know it!” she shouted after him, trying to get him to slow down or, even better, stop altogether.

They’ve been walking like this since they left the hospital and he decided that instead of a taxi, he would walk. He didn’t have to say anything to let her know that he was annoyed, and while she knew why, he was being ridiculous. She would never say that he acts like a child, but in that moment that was exactly what he was doing.

And all because she didn’t come to him for help.

Claire wasn’t a damsel in distress, she didn’t need saving, but she could ask for help when she needed it. Most of the time, Ethan was the immediate option when she couldn’t handle her problem by herself. He got used to it, used to being helpful, used to being needed by her. After all the time they spent together, in the hospital and outside of it, it put everything in perspective for him, and the more he thought about her, the more he knew that life without her would be an empty one. She was the one he went to when he needed a smile, a laugh, a hug or support. She was always there for him, with her sparkling eyes and wide grin that could light up the whole room. All she had to do was look at him and he was forgetting the world around them even existed.

That day, she was in trouble. Her patient was giving her hell, his behavior toeing the line of being dangerous both for himself and for Claire, interns were reckless, and it was getting too much for her. Not sure how to proceed from the situation, she turned to the first person she stumbled upon, and it just so happened to be Harper Emery. It’s been almost three years since Claire’s trial, and from that point on, their relationship has been getting better and better. Now, they were close friends, able to talk about everything. That’s why she wasn’t afraid to ask for help. If it was any other doctor, she would have had her reservations, but she could trust Harper.

The commotion was over as fast as it started, and by the time noon rolled around, they were leaning on the counter of the nurse’s station, both relieved that the threat was gone, chatting about some intern trouble when Claire’s eyes caught a glimpse of brown mane, right around the corner. She didn’t even have to look closer to know that it was Ethan, her whole body tuned to his presence. He walked closer to them both, touching his hand to Claire’s arm, trailing it downwards to grab her hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Aren’t you two a picture of sweetness. So sweet it makes my teeth hurt, actually.” Harper teased, smirking at Claire. She flashed her a bright smile, turning to her boyfriend, pulling on his hand and wrapping her other arm around him, guiding him into a hug.

“Then it’s a good thing I like sweets. As a matter of fact, now that you’ve mentioned it, I’m seriously craving some chocolate cake, so if you’ll excuse me…” Claire trailed off, dragging Ethan along with her, a sparkle in her eye. He followed her without even blinking, his gaze focused on her.

“After what happened this morning, you definitely deserve it. Have a piece for me while you’re at it.” Harper called out after them, disappearing behind the door to one of the rooms a moment later.

Claire continued walking as she was, completely oblivious to the confusion that took over Ethan’s mind. Harper’s words didn’t make any sense to him, implying that some sort of a situation had occurred earlier that day that he was yet to learn about. Stopping in his tracks, he pulled her to him.

“What did she mean by ‘after what happened this morning’?”

“Oh, um, it’s nothing really, just some trouble with a patient. Nothing we couldn’t handle ourselves, don’t worry.” She bit her lip, obviously hiding something. Suddenly nervous, wanting to change the subject.

“If you wanted to divert my attention, you failed. Now you have to tell me.” He lowered his voice, his hands pressing on her shoulder blades to bring her to him, his eyes filling with worry.

“I had minor-“ she started but was quickly stopped by his gaze, correcting herself. “… some problems with one of my patients. He got… abusive and aggressive, said a couple of things that made me uncomfortable… anyway, Harper helped me, it’s over, you don’t have to worry about me.”

There was a long moment of silence, hanging between them, stopping the time, canceling the reality, even though the whole world around them was very much alive. In any other circumstances, he wouldn’t show as much affection towards her in the public eye, but the situation was making him not think clearly.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” he muttered, hurt coloring his voice. She shook her head, taking a step back to look at him better.

“We had it under control, there was no need for the scary Dr. Ramsey to step in.” she tried joking, but his worried face turned into a scowl. Confusion washed over her, prompting her to walk towards him, only for him to step away, out of her reach.

“And you didn’t think to come and get me? That’s not a light matter, Rookie.” He spoke in an even tone, putting his walls up yet again, pushing her away. Her eyes grew wide, her mouth opening and closing, unsure what to say. He closed his eyes, taking a deep breath before turning on his heels and walking away, leaving her alone in the hallway.

For the rest of the day, she was trying to get him alone to talk to him, but he was effectively avoiding her. It was driving her mad, because she did know where the issue seemed to be, but she had no real way of knowing what was really bothering him, because he closed himself off yet again. The next opportunity to talk to him she got when she was leaving the hospital for the day. He was walking fast and when he saw her approaching, he sped up, almost running. Anything to avoid talking to her.

“Ethan, seriously, can you slow down so we can talk?” she called out after him, doing her best to catch up with him, the weather conditions and her abilities not making it easier on her.

“I don’t know what there is to talk about.” He threw the words her way, his steps seemingly even faster. She was running after him now, breathing heavily as she struggled not to lose him in the snow that was blurring her vision and not give into the cold that embraced her from every direction.

“Ethan, please, just wait- ah!” she tried again, reaching out for his hand, only to be stopped by a sharp pain in her left ankle.

She stepped crookedly on her ankle, twisting it in an unnatural position, and then slipped on ice, falling to the ground with a sickening sound. She took in a sharp breath, trying her best not to let the tears that gathered in her eyes fall. From what she could tell, this was going to end bad, and she blamed her clumsiness and her clumsiness only for always being there when she didn’t need it.

“Claire, I’m sorry but- Rookie?” Ethan spoke calmly, then turned around, confused by her cry and the silence that followed it. At the sight of her lying there, on the ground, clutching her ankle with both of her hands, her head hanging low, most likely to hide her face, his heart seemingly stopped. As carefully as he could, he ran back to her, falling to his knees to aid her. “Oh god, Claire, what happened?”

“I’m clumsy, you know it. I stepped on my foot the wrong way and slipped on the ice.” She spoke shakily, refusing to look at him. He was mad at her, he didn’t need her to cause them more problems, and she didn’t need his pity. What she needed was an honest conversation with him, and there was no way that was happening now. He put his finger underneath her chin, lifting it to make her look at him. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears, her teeth sunken into her lower lip to keep herself from crying out in pain. He broke a little, piece by piece, as he noticed all the actions she took to keep him from discovering her condition. He pressed a tender kiss to her forehead before picking her up in his arms, carrying her home.

They didn’t say a word to each other on their way to his apartment, apart from his occasional questions, to make sure she was comfortable and that she didn’t need immediate hospitalization. The warmth of his house engulfed them both as he carried her inside, letting her sit on his sofa as he took off her coat and her shoes, softly, not to cause her any more pain. Fetching his first aid kit, he started examining her ankle, his touch soft as he applied gel with medicine in it to soothe the pain, securing her foot to minimize any movement. Again, all in perfect silence.

She was still shaking from the cold that etched itself into her body, refusing to let her warm up. Ethan’s eyes softened at the sight of his other half, looking smaller than ever. A pang of guilt hit him like a ton of bricks, overwhelming him as he realized that at least a part of why she was feeling the way she did was caused by his behavior. With a heavy sigh, he took off his sweater and wrapped her in it, rubbing her arms to help her get warmer. She reclined against the back of the couch, closing her eyes, a soft sigh escaping her lips.

Ethan made his way to the kitchen, going through his cabinets, one by one, searching for what he remembered to be a place he saw Claire put away a bunch of candles. Lighting them, one by one, he placed them around the living room, turning the lights down low. The music, which was playing since they got back home, got to the slower part, just as he stood before her yet again. Without saying a word, he leaned down to pick her up, wrapping his arms securely around her and walking them to the middle of the room. He placed her feet on top of his, careful to support her injured ankle, and started swaying from side to side. Claire circled her arms around his neck, pulling his closer to her, their foreheads touching. A long moment passed before either of them said anything.

“I’m sorry.” She whispered, nuzzling her nose against his. His grip on her tightened, his eyes opening to look at her, affection shining in them brightly.

“It’s me who should be sorry. You didn’t deserve the way I treated you today, and because of me, you got hurt. I’m not sure how I’m going to forgive myself for letting that happen.” He muttered under his breath, sorrow filling his tone to the brim. Claire shook her head, leaning up to kiss him softly.

“It’s not your fault. It could have happened to anyone, it just so happened that I’m more prone to accidents than other people.” She tried to laugh, lighten up the mood, but he remained pensive. “It really isn’t your fault, I don’t want you to blame yourself. I do, however, want you to tell me what happened today.”

He kissed her again, holding her as though she was about to disappear, slip right through his fingers. When they separated, he was breathing heavily, refusing to let her get even a slightest bit away from him.

“I guess I got worried. I got so used to us talking about everything, sharing everything with each other, relying on each other that when I heard that you got into a potentially dangerous situation and I wasn’t there to protect you…” he trailed off, closing his eyes and turning his head away from her. She looked at his profile for a short while before reaching with her finger to turn him back around, making him look at her yet again.

“I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. And I didn’t do it on purpose. Harper was simply nearby, and she knew what to do, it wasn’t anything more than that. I promise, if I knew how that would affect you, I would have run to get you.”

She combed her fingers through his hair, smiling at how his expression got softer under her gentle touch. He leaned in, pressing his lips to hers for a sweet moment. She responded immediately, kissing him back with as much energy as he gave her, but before it could get anywhere, he leaned back yet again.

“I didn’t even know it would affect me the way it did. And at first, I didn’t know why I felt like that. It was only when I stopped to actually think about it, that I realized that I felt… useless.” He shrugged, leading them both in a circle, moving slowly and minding their movements only halfheartedly.

“Useless how? Cause you should know that I need you all the time.”

“That’s the thing. I was never that for anyone. There was never a person in my life that needed me like I want you to need me. And until today, I never put much thought to it. Now, I realized that I just want to be wanted. Needed. I want to be loved, the way I love you.”

“I want you. I need you. I love you. Don’t you ever forget it, Ethan. You’ve been through so much pain and so much loneliness, you survived it all on your own, but you’re not alone. Not anymore. We’re in this together, and I want you to be happy. I want you to have everything you’ve ever wanted, to live your dreams, to not have a single worry on your shoulders, because that’s what you deserve. You deserve the world, Ethan, and I intend to give it to you.” she whispered, stroking his cheek with love in her eyes.

“You’re the only thing I need.” He muttered before kissing her again, pressing his lips to hers, moving his hands to her lower back, pressing her flush against him. She sighed happily, remaining in his arms as the evening turned into the deep, dark night, and the only thing that mattered to them was being there, together, as the snow fell from the sky.

[dhill202-blog]

10 Tips for a Better Travel Experience

Hitting the street once will change your life forever. Fact. You will become more flexible and thinking on your feet will become second nature. Confidence and self belief will blossom as you overcome the trials and tribulations engendered by life on the street, and you'll evolve. Interaction with other people, from all walks of life, will become a daily event. The people you meet and the situations you encounter, both good and bad, will gradually start to define you. Some days may be magic, others could be tough - but every day will leave its mark, and the cumulative impact is life altering.

Whether you travel for a month, a year, or ten years, you'll have an experience unlike any other. But pause for a moment and ask yourself: - is it better?

Here are ten ways to improve your travel experience.

Go Slow - You have quit your job or got time off work, flown half way round the world, and are now desperately excited to see firsthand all you have read and dreamed of. However, by racing though too many nations in a given time you may lose out on much more. Not only will you learn less about the places you've longed to see, but you'll tire quickly and become travel weary. A couple of nights in each place also spells out buses, boats or trains at least ever other day, and packing/unpacking will become a daily event. Tiring? I should coco.

With more time spent in fewer areas you will start to live in your new environment. The extra time in every place may encourage you to explore under your own steam instead of being shackled to a guidebook and its top ten tick off list. Worries about wasting time won't be a problem, leaving you free to go drifting and raising the chances uncovering a lesser known delight.

Have Faith - Be a bit more trusting. Everyone isn't out to steal your money, or cheat you. Traveling with this unhealthy mindset will cause someone to become detached, cynical, bitter, and a very bad ambassador for their country. Do not be dismissive or rude when approached - after all, it is wonderful to be nice.

Ok, sometimes an unsavory cookie can cross your path, but this can be taken care of upon consciousness; but, overall, those who approach you may fall into other categories: people like you and I wanting to earn a living (and assisting you with a service in the procedure ), and the ones which are either interested or favorable (or usually both!) Thus, let the guard down a bit and listen to people out. Judge situations on their unique merits and occasionally be a Yes Man, you can't know where it might lead.

Get Involved - Keep a look out for opportunities where you can make a difference. We learn so much from people we meet and places we see, but all too often its one way traffic. Get prepared to help others and attempt whenever possible to give back something. Perform to your skills and expertise, you might have something valuable to offer. 

Learn the Lingo - Even just the basics will lay the foundation for a better experience. 'Pleases' and'thank you's go a very long way, and, even if they're not delivered properly or understood, they show that you're willing to make the hard work and communicate a respect toward the people you meet. If nothing else it will raise a smile or two, and that is always a bonus. Furthermore, in the event you still need encouragement to acquire a phrase book, some of the local lingo can get you a better price for transportation, accommodation, and the little knick-knacks you can't pass up.

We attempt to taste all the regional delicacies, so why not sample all of the regional modes of transport, also? Ok, the railroad system might be the preferable method of travel for any particular state, but find out for yourself . Moreover, even if the bus station is in walking distance from the accommodation, throw financial caution to the end at least one time by splashing out 50 cents for For the ones which are still worried about value for money, I say sit at the front bucket of a Vietnamese Cyclo and get taken across a busy Saigon intersection - for the purchase price of one beer you'll have a vision etched in your mind for all eternity. Then, for the hardcore thrill seekers amongst you, invite your Cyclo Jockey to sit at the chair of death as you peddle him across the intersection...

Adopt the Weird and Wonderful - Do not miss a chance to try something a little out of the ordinary, be it fresh food, local traditions, children's games, or anything else of barbarous tobacco from Javanese street sellers. Get in the swing of it and make somebody's day.

Stay Alert - Little can ruin a trip and taint your view of a nation and its populous more than being careless with your possessions and learning the hard way. Opportunist theft is a simple fact of life, but you can reduce the danger by staying aware of your surroundings and possessions rather than playing to the minority's control.

Be a 1 Bag Wonder - Travel light, travel joyful. Decrease your possessions and life will become so much easier. Firstly, it makes the mechanics of getting from A to B simpler and less stressful. Easier because it is less fat to be humping around involving transportation and accommodation and less size and weight to be swinging around inside the limits of a densely populated bus. It becomes less stressful since the smaller your bag is, the less probable it is you will be separated from it during journeys- and, judging everyone by my pitifully. Additionally, it is more likely you'll be allowed on an already packed bus out for those who have less luggage. This doesn't ring true in Guatemala however, because you can always fit one more person on the bus, however full it is.

Walk the Path Less Trodden - Now that you've got extra time on your hands in each destination, why not explore a bit? Getting off the beaten path doesn't have to mean single handedly paddling a handmade dugout canoe 500 miles through the Amazonian Basin, it might be something as straightforward as forsaking the guidebook recommends for the day and rather scrounging a map or fliers and opting for an aimless wander in a new town. Some of my greatest discoveries have resulted from doing just this.

Terrific sources of info include Tourist Information Offices (though, where available, they vary tremendously in quality), What's On guides, local papers, handouts, fliers, and, of course, fellow travelers, to mention but a few. Spending less time at the well known and'popular' hangouts will also do your budget a huge favor, too.

Keep a Journal - Writing reams of pulp is not for everybody, but it does not have to be like that. A journal can mean many different things to different individuals. It could be a complete scale daily diary or only a kid's notebook from the marketplace where you place labels from local beer bottles (maybe with drunken scribbling below) - the option is yours. For the geeks among us (me included) there is the choice to travel site, and for the idle geeks among us (again, me included) it is even easier to cut and paste excerpts from emails home to family and friends and keep those as your diary.

Whatever form your personal creation may take, the final result is identical. 

Freelance travel writer and fanatical backpacker Nathan Richards desires nothing more than to inspire and encourage other people to satisfy their wanderlust.

Eclectic and Exquisite Gay Travel Experience

Your work has been preventing you from seeing new terrific things out of your comfort zone. You've been working so hard that you tend to forget there are more to life than your job. Why don't you take some of your time to pull yourself from a thousand paper functions and maintain an adventure you'd treasure in a life? Why not put aside little by little some money for a holiday that will teach you exactly what your job can never endow you with? Why not book yourself for a gay vacation and encounter what's meant by life?

Gay travels have been the cure for tired and weary spirits that wander from the corners of shallow fantasies. These journeys with your fellow beings will certainly open an opportunity for you to look into yourself and find greater things concerning you. Through these exquisite homosexual holidays, you'll be privileged to belong to a community of loving and accepting individuals composed of men, women, lesbians and gay. Not just you'll be communing with nature, you will basically be joining with yourself that you've missed during your hours and hours of tedious work.

Dwelling on some diverse gay travels will bring you into a world of discovery. Some packages will provide you with the opportunity to be showing the presents inside you and using these presents for the benefit of the planet as a whole. What use it is to be true to yourself and the world is instructing you in every manner of not to be ashamed of who you are.

Other offers for homosexual travels include an enlightening about your erotic potentials. Through some enticing team activities, you'll have the ability to spot your sensual facets and nurture them for sexy travel experience. This sort of involvement work your way to your ultimate sexual liberty and unblock sexual inhibitions and doubts. By means of breath, body and hand motion and the soothing magic of audio you will eventually get a real feel of sexual satisfaction. These gay travel experiences on sexual accomplishment and realization are lively and enjoyable to your erotic improvement.

Take more than an isolated island off a exceptional shore or indulge in sensual play activities as you travel your way to revival and rejuvenation of the self. Gay travel experiences are specially made for couples abound who'd want to spend romantic evenings in their communion with love, peace, serenity and dedication. Gay vacations help you explore the hidden and breathtaking views of nature as well as yourself.

At each end of fulfilling gay vacations is a brand new you.... virtually more intelligent emotionally and mentally. The revival of your missing self drained through hard work is invaluable benefit from a journey with your loved one. A week-long time out in the complications of life is a unique opportunity for you to renew your vow for the betterment of yourself and for s more powerful relationship with your spouse. So what are you waiting for? Get booked and travel your way to transformation!

[jessahmewren]

Ooh could we get some Breaky smut based on that pic of John and Bearded Bri from ages ago that u tagged "a Breaky fic waiting to happen" maybe they're roleplaying as strangers??

I’m so sorry it took me so long to answer this love!  It turned out as part of a series I’m doing on AO3 and a full-fledged fic! Here it is and it can also be found here!  

-0-0-0-

“Meet somewhere unfamiliar,” John read to him over morning coffee.  “Pretend you two have never met.  Proceed to have an exciting rendezvous.”  John waggled his eyebrows at that, setting down the little book that he carried with him nearly everywhere now, reading it to Brian at nearly every opportunity.  

Brian sniffed.  “So we’re to play strangers then.”  

John smiled.  “Exactly babe.  But I want us to really play it up.”  He was using his hands now, picturing the entire thing in his head. “I want us to look different, act different.  I want us to feel different.”  

Suddenly, a flash of inspiration hit him.  

“Grow your beard out Bri.”

“No, John.  I hate the way I look with facial hair.”  

John scoffed.  “And I think it’s dead sexy.  Grow it out.  For me? For the book?”  

Brian laughed.  I’ll do it for you.”  

It took him weeks to grow it out to John’s liking, but the day finally arrived that Bri had what John described as a “sexy stranger” beard that would be perfect for their next role play. John chose a bar they’d never been too, some newly opened nightclub in a trendy section of London…perfect for a clandestine encounter.  He kissed Bri goodbye and told him he’d text him the location.  His clothes were in the car since he’d have to change at work.  

“Can’t I come home first, love?  I mean, we can pretend when we get there. We can at least ride together,” Brian argued.  

John shook his head.  “No, Beardy Bri, we cannot.  This has to feel authentic.  So change at work.  Meet me there.”  

Brian scowled.  “For God’s sakes stop calling me that,” he said as he rubbed his chin with his hand.  

John caressed his face. “I love it, you know.”  

Brian sighed.  “I’m shaving it tomorrow.”  

–

John took nearly an hour to pick out what to wear.  He tried to get in the mindset of a single man going out for a night of fun, so he picked out a pair of tight fitting jeans, a sharp looking button down and coordinating jacket.  He checked himself out in the mirror.  Very good…very gay…very doable.  He wondered if he might catch a Brian tonight.  A sly smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.  The Uber he’d called suddenly texted him, reminding him he was downstairs.  He would have to text Brian the location on the way.  

Inside the club it was dark and noisy, with pink and blue neon lighting lining the walls and ceiling. It wasn’t exactly the most aesthetic club he’d ever been in, but John had never been one for clubs really. Only he wasn’t himself tonight.  He was still forgetting that.  He leaned over the bar and ordered a White Russian, something he would ordinarily never drink, and just waited.  

Did club things. Looked good in his clothes. Scouted the room.  What the hell did you do in places like this?  He began to panic without Brian, but he kept his cool.  Then, someone brushed shoulders with him, and he sighed in relief.  “Brian, where have you be—“

But when he turned around, the words stuck in his throat.  A stunning blond wearing shades and a toothy grin was staring back at him, his arms crossed on the bar.  “White Russian eh?  My old man used to drink those.” The man called for two beers, while John just stared.

“Who are you,” he finally got out.  

“Roger,” the man said, never removing the shades, only it came out “Roggahh,” and John’s eyes never left the man’s mouth.

“You’re Brian’s hubby aren’t you?”

“Y-yeah,” John finally managed, a bit flustered, “but how do you know that?”

The beers arrived, and Roger handed John one.  “Brian’s my mate…we work together.  Me and my boyfriend Freddie.  See, he’s right over there.”  

Roger pointed to an equally beautiful and exotic man at a corner table who gave a smile and a little wave in their direction, probably used to being introduced that way.

John took a swig of his beer at about the same time Brian arrived, a confused look on his face.  

“Roger?  Fancy meeting you here.”  His eyes traveled between the two men.  “You met my John then.  John, this is Roger, we work together.”  

John swallowed thickly. “I gathered that.”  

Roger slapped John heartily on the back.  “Well chaps I’ll leave you to it then.  Perhaps we’ll meet up some time, yeah?  Freddie and me and you and John.”  

Brian nodded.  “That would be nice.”  

John smiled.  “Very nice.”  

Roger disappeared onto the dancefloor, weaving his way back to his and Freddie’s table.

Brian never said a word to John.  He just sat down at the bar and ordered himself a drink.  He gave John a cursory glance, and smiled.  

“I’m Brian, by the way.  I’d buy you one, but I see you’re already covered,” he said shyly, easily slipping into the role play.

John nodded in Roger’s direction. “John.  And that gentleman kindly offered.”

Brian smiled.  “Lucky him, John.”  

John could feel his cheeks heat.  “It doesn’t mean we can’t have our drinks together.”  He cleared his throat.  “What is it that you do?”  

“Social media marketing for a PR firm,” Brian rattled off easily.  “It’s fun work…can be stressful at times.  Like any job I suppose.”  

John cocked an eyebrow. “So you get to post on Instagram for a living?”  

Brian laughed, low and throaty, and inched casually placed hand on the younger man’s arm.  

“No, no, don’t be silly. It’s more…involved than that.  But I wish.”  

“So tell me, John, what do you do?”  

John took a few more swigs of his beer.  He was feeling flushed, the high of the role play and the buzz of the alcohol racing through his veins.  “I work in IT,” he said.  “I’m just a computer geek.”  

“Ooh,” Brian cooed softly, his lips making a perfect circle.  “Geeks rule the world.”  

John’s fingers played with the sleeve of Brian’s jacket where his arm lay on the bar.  “You think?”  

Brian blushed deeply and took another drink.  His bottle was empty, and they ordered another round.  The White Russian lay sweating and forgotten.  “I know it.”

John felt bolder by his third beer, and he was leaning in on his elbows to practically swim in Brian’s hazel eyes.  

“Tell me why someone hasn’t already snapped you up Brian.”  

Brian smiled, slow and easy. “I’m difficult to live with,” he said with a frown.  “I’m cantankerous and frustrating and never compromise,” he said with a huff.

“That’s not true,” John whispered.  “I mean I’m sure that’s not true,” he said he’s hand going out to stroke Brian’s face.  John smiled.  “You can’t be all that bad.”  

Brian leaned into his touch. “It’s true,” he sighed.  “I’m all that bad sometimes.”  

John stroked his thumb across his lips.  “We’re all that bad sometimes.”  

A few moments went by as they just drunkenly swayed into each other, nearly tipping off the bar stools. “Would you like to dance?” John asked suddenly.

Brian nodded, and John led him to the dance floor, wrapping his arms around his lithe figure, slotting his leg between his hips so he could softly grind against him to the thrumming beat. He could feel the firm jut of his erection pressing into him, and it pulled at something nostalgic within him, like the first time they’d ever made love.  

John ran his hands of his endless chest, so lean and beautiful, and up to cradle his face.  “May I kiss you Brian?” He asked sweetly. Brian didn’t answer him, he just fell into his mouth, slotting his lips against his in an agonizingly slow and lingering kiss that left John starved for more.  

“I’m so glad I met you,” murmured Brian against his lips.  

John sighed, his breath uneven.  “Me too.”

They danced, swaying and undulating to the rhythmic beat until both of them were slick with sweat. John leaned over to Brian, nipping at his ear.  

“I hope you appreciate honesty,” John began.

Brian looked at him seriously, his eyes traveling to his lips.  “Of course.”  

“Honestly I just want you to take me somewhere and fuck me.”  

Brian captured his lips, taking the lower between is teeth tugging.  “I can do that,” Brian said breathlessly.  

They called a Uber, given them directions to the nearest hotel.  Adrenaline was coursing through John’s veins as they approached a scowling receptionist, giggling, hand in hand.  She gave them the key and they just made it to the seedy motel room and they were stripping off clothes, their mouths fused together.  

“I want your cock so bad Bri,” John panted, “I’ve never wanted anything more in my life. Fuck me right now.”

“Gotta get you ready sweetheart.  Jesus we don’t even have any lube.”  

John whined, stroking his cock.  “Use the little bottle of complimentary lotion.”  He was already on the bed, his bum in the air.  “Come on, Bri!”

Brian started with two just to satisfy him, and John moaned, immediately rutting on his fingers.  He wasn’t going to last, neither of them were. The walls were paper thin…people were probably dialing the front office right now.  Brian didn’t care.  He was stroking himself in time with his hand on John’s sweetspot.  John took a third finger like a leaf settling onto a clear pond.

“You read for me baby? Ready for me to fuck this pretty ass of yours?”  

John whined, twisting beneath him.  “Been ready. Fuck me Bri. Fuck me hard.  Make me scream.”

Brian pushed into him, causing John to gasp out his name.  He didn’t wait long before he was moving inside of him, hard, jerky thrusts that moved John up the bed and knocked the headboard against the wall.  

“We’re gonna wake the neighbors my love,” Brian stuttered out between thrusts.  

John just mumbled out a weak “Fuck” as he caught his breath between being pounded into the mattress.

John was touching himself as Brian came, slamming into him so hard he lost his grip on his cock. He helped him finish, stroking him until he was coming and calling out his name in pleasure.  

“You’re so good for me,” Brian said as he soothed into his hair, gathering the younger man up to his chest as he came down from his high.  “So perfect for me.”  

John smiled.  “Even though we just met?”  

Brian wrapped his arms around him.  “Haven’t you ever heard of love at first sight?”

-0-0-0-

[mandowh0re]

Peter Meets Harley

Prompt: Peter meeting Harley (who makes super cool gadgets) and they go off and do random things in the city and get into a bit of trouble and Tony has to save them both and Peter gets punished because he takes the blame for the incident. Maybe someone gets hurt? - @paradoxicalblueberry

I had to go over this like a thousand times to make sure it was up to my standards but I had fun writing it!

Happy reading!

The elevator dinged, alerting Peter that he had arrived on Tony’s floor of the Tower. Keeping his eyes glued to his phone, he walked out and threw his backpack on the floor, making a beeline for the kitchen.

“Dad! I’m home!”

After the reversal of the snap, Peter and Tony had been inseparable. For almost a month afterwards, Peter absolutely refused to leave Tony’s side, and vice versa, forcing May to temporarily move into the Tower.

It was during this time that Peter had taken to calling Tony ‘dad’, while Tony referred to Peter as ‘his son’.

So when the initial wave of panic had settled, and Peter was willing to do things other than follow Tony like a lost puppy, Tony and May agreed to let Peter stay at the Tower with him and Pepper on the weekends, and any time May had to work overnight.

Peter jumped onto the kitchen island, tossing his phone to the side and grabbing an apple from the bowl.

He took one bite of the fruit before he noticed that the other presence he sensed in the room wasn’t Tony, but another kid around his age.

Screaming, Peter fell back off the island, causing him to choke on the bite of apple he had been chewing on.

When he recovered, Peter backed against the counter, discreetly activating his webshooters, “Who are you?” he asked, his voice hoarse from choking.

The other kid looked at him with a raised eyebrow, like Peter was the one who intruded, “Who are you?”

“I asked you first.”

“I asked you second.”

It was Peter’s turn to raise an eyebrow.

“FRIDAY? Where’s dad?”

“Mister Stark is currently in a meeting.”

The other boy startled at the voice, looking at the ceiling, “What the-”

“Then who is this?” Peter asked.

“This is Harley Keener, he is a friend of Mister Stark’s.” The AI replied.

“I’ve heard that name before.” Peter cocked his head, his eyes never leaving the boy in front of him, his finger twitching against the webshooter’s trigger.

“I helped Tony rebuild the Iron Man suit several years ago. During the Mandarin attacks.” The boy who FRIDAY had identified as Harley, offered.

Instantly Peter retracted the webshooters into his wrist bands, his mouth hanging open, “Oh my gosh, you’re Harley?? Like, the Harley??”

A smile broke across Harley’s face, “Yeah, I guess so.” He nodded towards Peter, “I didn’t know he had a kid?”

Peter blushed, fidgeting with his hands, “Oh, uh. Y-yeah, kind of. It’s uh… A little complicated.”

“It’s okay. I get the whole ‘family drama’ thing. No need to explain if you don’t want.” Harley’s body relaxed, his arms unfolding, no longer in a defensive stance.

Peter smiled at him, letting his body relax too, “Thanks.” He picked up his apple off the floor and tossed it in the trash, “Not to be rude, but like, why are you here? He didn’t tell me you were coming.”

The other boy sat back onto the couch, “He didn’t know I was coming. I wanted to surprise him, Miss Potts, or Mrs. Stark now I guess, let me up here.”

Peter walked over to the living area and sat on the chair across from Harley, “He probably won’t be back for a while. When he actually goes to meetings he’s usually gone for hours at a time.”

Harley nodded, “Maybe I should come back another time,”

Not wanting to lose out on the opportunity to actually get to know the kid that saved his dad’s life so many years ago, Peter spoke up, “No, that’s okay! You can stay here! I could show you around New York if you’d like. You’re from Tennessee, right?”

“Yeah-”

“Perfect! Let’s go!” He jumped off the couch and bounded for the elevator before turning back to Harley, “I’m Peter, by the way.”

Harley smiled and extended his hand, “Harley.”

***

An hour later, Peter and Harley were sitting in a pizzeria, telling each other about themselves and stories they had about Tony. Harley told Peter about his time at MIT and about tech he had built, along with stories from the first time he met Tony. Peter, after geeking over the fact that Harley went to his dream school, told his own stories about Tony.

When they were finished with their pizza, they began walking down the street when Peter’s spidey sense went off.

Danger

Immediately Peter’s head shot in every direction looking for where the possible danger might be.

Grabbing Harley’s arm, he pulled the two of them into a nearby alley causing Harley to yelp in surprise. Both at the sudden movement and the fact that Peter was so strong. He wasn’t expecting that because Peter was a stick.

“What’re you doing?” He asked.

Peter didn’t really know how to respond without giving away his secret, “Something’s wrong.” He answered, distractedly looking out around the corner.

“What do you mean-” Before Harley could finish his question Peter jumped on him, pushing him to the ground just as a car exploded across the street, sending tremors through the earth and the surrounding people in all different directions.

“What the hell??” Harley squeaked.

Peter got up and grabbed his arm again, pulling them to the back of the alley.

“Peter, what is going on??” He jerked his arm out of Peter’s grip.

“I don’t know,” Peter mumbled, his arms spread out to his sides in an attempt to keep the other boy safe, his brain working overtime trying to figure out how to change into the suit without exposing his identity.

Harley grabbed Peter’s shoulder, forcing him to turn around, “How did you know that was going to happen?” He looked over Peter’s shoulder, looking at the chaos on the street, “We should call Tony.”

Peter sighed, but before he could answer he felt Harley tense just as his spider sense went off again.

Danger danger danger

“I found the boy!” A man with a thick Russian accent yelled from behind Peter.

Whipping back around, Peter saw a man with the signature Hydra tattoo on his neck at the alley’s opening, blocking their escape.

“Shit.” He breathed. Peter took a step back, his arms extending to the sides again, “Stay behind me.”

“Seriously, what are you doing??” Harley’s hands tangled in his own hair, “You’re like, half my size!”

“You are Stark’s boy, yes?” The man asked, taking a slow step forward.

Peter took another step back. He looked in every direction for an escape, or even just a way to keep Harley safe. But they were trapped.

Three more men walked into the alley, all sporting the same tattoo.

“Who is the other boy?” One of the men asked.

“Don’t know, but he could be of use as well.” The first man replied, pulling out a gun.

Danger danger danger danger danger

Fuck it.

Peter reached around his back, pushing Harley to the ground while at the same time activating his webshooters, shooting a web at the gun in the first guy’s hand. When he successfully webbed the weapon to the wall next to them, the other men pulled out guns as well.

“He’s the spider kid!” One of them yelled.

“It’s Spider-Man!” Peter retorted, quickly webbing two more guns to the wall.

But before he could disarm the last man, a gunshot rang through the air, the bullet ripping through Peter’s shoulder.

Screaming, Peter stumbled back onto the ground.

“Peter!” Harley yelled, crawling to where Peter now laid.

Peter gasped, “I’m- I’m okay.” He muttered, and pressed a button on each webshooter activating the Iron Spider suit, “Just stay back.”

He heard a faint ‘holy shit’ next to him but decided to deal with that at another time.

Peter’s super hearing picked up on the sound of the gun cocking, and another shot rang out. This time, however, it was aimed for Harley. Peter quickly webbed him, yanking him out of the way.

“That wasn’t very nice!” Peter yelled, standing up while holding his arm.

He ran towards the men in front of him, and finished disarming them.

Peter punched the first guy and kicked him into the wall, then turned and caught a fist that was coming straight for his face, twisting the arm it belonged to and kicking the man to the ground.

Two more were left, and Peter was running out of energy. His shoulder was in too much pain and he wasn’t sure how much blood he had lost.

Instead of fighting the last two, he shot a web at each one, covering their faces. The two fell backwards onto the ground while they attempting to tear off the webbing.

Taking advantage of this, Peter webbed them to the ground, making sure they were completely immobile, then did the same with the first two.

As soon as the threat was gone, the adrenaline began to wear off making the pain even worse.

He stumbled back, catching himself on the wall, gasping for air.

“Peter? Dude are you okay?” Harley ran over, his hands hovering over Peter’s body.

Peter winced, his mask melting off of him, “Yeah, I- shit.” He took a deep breath, “We need to move. Before anyone else sees us.”

Harley nodded, and Peter grabbed him around the waist with his bad arm, shooting a web to the top of one of the neighboring buildings with his good one. His mask covered his face once again, “Hold on tight.”

Harley obediently wrapped his arms around the smaller boy, holding him tightly, not wanting Peter to use his bad arm to support his weight.

They shot up to the roof, Peter crawling to the flat surface and falling on his back as soon as Harley let go.

“Peter, I have alerted Mister Stark to your condition. He is on his way.”

“Crap.” He groaned, then deactivated his suit, revealing his blood soaked shirt.

“Peter, are you okay?” Harley asked again, crawling over to him. He tore off his jacket and pressed it against the open wound on Peter’s shoulder.

Peter sighed, “Yeah,” He groaned in pain, his hand shooting up to hold onto his injured arm, “I’m about to get in so much trouble, though.”

“What?”

Suddenly, the sound of repulsors filled the air, metal boots slamming onto the roof soon after.

“Get away from him.” The metallic voice ordered.

Both boys turned to see Tony’s hand raised towards Harley, a repulsor blast charging.

“Wait! No! Dad, it’s-”

“Harley?” Tony asked, his helmet falling into the suit and his hand dropping to his side, “What are you doing here?”

“Uh, surprise?” The older boy squeaked out.

Tony looked at Harley, who was currently leaning over his kid holding a bunched up jacket to an obvious bullet wound. Then at Peter, whose clothes were stained with blood, skin pale and damp with sweat, and was laying in a pool of red. Then down at the four men who were webbed to various surfaces below them.

Sighing deeply, Tony pinched the bridge of his nose, “You’ve got to be shitting me.”

“They know my identity.” Peter said, his voice cracking.

“I’ll deal with it. Or more specifically, Nat will. But you’re bleeding out on a rooftop, so that’s not my biggest priority at the moment.” Tony knelt down on Peter’s other side, opposite of Harley. He inspected Peter’s shoulder, finding that the bullet went straight through, “Good news is, the bullet’s not still in there. Bad news, your rescuer is only plugging one of the holes.

They both looked at Harley, who was just now noticing the pooling of blood under Peter’s left side, “Oops.”

Tony rolled his eyes and slipped one of Peter’s webshooters, activating it, “Move the jacket,” He instructed Harley, who did as he was told. Tony quickly and gently webbed up the wound, “Okay, Peter, keep your arm as still as possible. Harley, grab his side and pull him over towards you.” Harley nodded, and pulled Peter so that Tony had access to the back of his shoulder.

Peter grunted and winced, a few tears falling down his face.

Tony’s heart clenched and dropped to his stomach. He hated seeing Peter hurt, “I’m sorry, buddy.” He finished webbing the second hole, slipping the bracelet back onto Peter’s wrist, “Let’s get you back to the Tower, yeah? Bruce is waiting to fix you up.” Peter nodded, an Tony gently lifted him into his arms.

Looking at Harley, Tony said, “Cap and Natasha are on their way now. I’ll have them bring you back. I’d much rather you not walk back by yourself.”

Harley nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Kiss-up.” Peter mumbled.

“You. Hush.” Tony told Peter, then took off into the air for the Tower.

***

Steve led Harley down to the med bay where Tony and Peter currently were.

As they approached a closed door, he heard arguing.

He looked at Steve, unsure of whether or not now was a good time to go in, but Steve just smiled at him and opened the door.

Giving his thanks to the larger man, Harley stepped into the room where Tony was currently reprimanding Peter.

“How many times have I told you not to go somewhere that you can’t escape?” Tony chastised.

“I didn’t have a choice!”

“Peter you always have a choice, you just have to be more aware of what those choices are.”

Tony ran a hand down his face, and Harley cleared his throat, causing the room’s other two occupants to turn to him.

“Uh, hi.” Harley blushed under their gazes, he looked a Peter, “Are you okay?”

Peter smiled, “I’m fine, dude. Don’t worry.”

Tony shot Peter a look, and Peter backtracked, “Uh, I will be fine. Don’t worry.”

Turning back to Harley, Tony walked towards him and threw an arm around the boy’s shoulders, “Hey bud. I haven’t seen you in a while.”

Harley chuckled, “Yeah, I finally got up here and wanted to surprise you, but you were in a meeting and Peter found me in the living room.”

Peter shot up from his current position of laying down on the medical bed, “He’s so cool! He goes to MIT and makes awesome tech-”

“Lay down, Underoos. You still have two holes in your shoulder.” Tony groaned, “I swear you’re going to give me a heart attack one of these days.”

“He’s not in trouble, is he?” Harley asked.

Tony sighed, “Don’t worry about it-”

“But he saved my life, Tony.”

“He wouldn’t have had to if he stayed inside and did his homework like he was supposed to.” He gave Peter a pointed look, “May is actually going to kill me, you know.”

“Oh come on, he was just trying to show me around.” Harley argued.

“It’s okay, Harley. He can’t stay mad at me too long. He never is.” Peter smirked.

Ignoring Peter, Tony turned towards Harley, holding his shoulders, “Listen, we need to talk about what you saw-”

“Don’t worry, Tony. I’m not going to tell anyone your son is Spider-Man,” He smirked, “Talk about a super family.

Tony laughed, “Yeah, well, thanks.”

“Okay but can we talk about how I single handedly took down four Hydra morons??” Peter exclaimed, basically bouncing off the bed.

Tony pinched the bridge of his nose and screwed his eyes shut, “Absofuckinglutely not.”

***

Tag list: @tranquility-or-chaos

[tinyfelthat]

Up to Bat: 1

Story page // My ask box

Author’s note: I can’t wait for you guys to read this! I’ve been working really hard on it for a while. Without further ado, here it is:

Chapter 1: Top of the First

Mia is running late. Today is her first day working at her dream job, and she’s running six minutes behind schedule. Six minutes isn’t a lot, but for Mia, it feels like six hours, because she’s wanted a job like this for as long as she can remember. She’s been a numbers geek since she learned to count. She fell in love with baseball as a kid, watching it on television and going to games with her dad, and she fell in love with statistics in college. Putting everything together seemed completely natural, and when she landed this job, she was, in a word, ecstatic.

Somehow, the traffic is light on her route to the stadium, and she makes it there nine minutes ahead of schedule. But she gets lost on her way to the statisticians’ office, and arrives there at 8:33am. She feels a pang of guilt for being three minutes late on her first day, but there’s nothing she can do at this point, so she shrugs it off as best she can. She’s supposed to be there thirty minutes before the official work day begins in order to be shown around the office and for some administrative stuff, anyway. The man who interviewed her for the position is waiting for her. He’s middle-aged, with thinning brown hair and a wide, friendly smile. She can’t remember his name, but she hopes that it won’t be an issue.

“Amelia Simon?” he asks.

“Yes, that’s me,” she replies.

“I don’t know if you remember my name from your interview. You seemed a little overwhelmed by the idea of working here. In any case, I’m Andrew Green, and I’m your new boss. Let me show you around the office.”

“Nice to meet you again, Mr. Green,” Mia smiles at him.

“Please call me Andrew. We’re all friends around here, Amelia.”

“Well, then, please call me Mia. It’s what I prefer.”

“I’ll remember that,” he pauses for a moment for dramatic effect, “Mia.”

Andrew first shows Mia her cubicle, then the break room, followed by the location of the bathrooms, and finally the conference room, where she’ll be for major meetings, including those with players. She fills out some paperwork at her new desk, and brings them to Andrew in his office.

“You seem eager to get started,” Andrew says. “I can already tell you’ll fit in quite well. You’re our newest, fresh out of graduate school. I can’t wait to see what you can do for our statistics team and for the players themselves.”

Mia grins. “I really can’t wait. It’s been my dream to work for a baseball team, any baseball team, for as long as I can remember, and you’re my hometown team. I’d hoped I’d be able to work for this team, but I wasn’t sure there’d be a position for me to take here. And I can be close to my family too! I can’t believe this is real.”

“Well, it is. Take a moment to soak it in, and then we’ll head to your first stat team meeting.”

Mia takes a deep breath in, and holds it. She releases it slowly. “I’m ready,” she tells Andrew.

They walk together to the meeting room, where the rest of the team’s statisticians have gathered.

“This is Mia Simon, everybody. She’s the newest member of our little operation here,” Andrew introduces her, and she waves awkwardly at them.

They go around the room, introducing themselves to Mia. She doesn’t remember any names because she’s nervous meeting so many new people at once, but she tells herself that it’ll be okay and that she’ll learn their names quickly enough.

“Today is a big day!” Andrew announces, once they’ve finished the introductions. “Pitchers and catchers report for their first official Spring Training workouts on Wednesday, and we have lots to do before they get there, because the rest of the team will be arriving on the following Monday.”

Mia puts her hand up, and Andrew points at her to speak. “Will we be meeting with the players during Spring Training at all?”

“Only the senior members of our stat team will travel to Florida to meet with the team during preseason workouts. However, our junior statisticians -- and, yes, that includes you Mia! -- will remain here. You will be meeting with some of the players throughout the regular season, though, again, you will not be traveling with the team at all. You’ll each be looking at and analyzing the stats for several players who are on the roster, or some minor leaguers and non-roster players invited to Spring Training, or a combination of the two. That’ll be all of you, junior and senior statisticians.”

“Okay,” Mia nods her understanding. Another hand goes up, that of a young man who looks to be around her age.

“Yes, Niall?”

“Which cubicle did you give to Mia? The one next to mine?” Andrew nods. “Okay, good.” Niall seems pleased.

The meeting wraps up with instructions on what each statistician should be doing for the next week to prep for the preseason, and they are all given player assignments. Mia is assigned to look at the stats for a couple of non-roster minor leaguers who were invited to Major League Spring Training to compete for a spot on the team, along with Harry Styles, the face of the franchise and star slugger of the team. She thinks this must be wrong, and she goes to approach Andrew, but he is preoccupied with one of the senior statisticians, so she goes back to her cubicle and asks her new cubicle neighbor, Niall.

“It seems like Andrew gave me the wrong instructions,” she tells him, and passes over her papers.

“Nah,” Niall says. “Someone else is ‘actually’ assigned to him. This is just a test to see what you’re made of.”

“Really?” Mia says, relieved. “Thanks for the heads up. I was really worried. I mean, Harry Styles? He’s amazing and I couldn’t help him get better if I tried.”

Niall laughs. “That’s what you think, but even the best players benefit from our help. That’s why we have a job at all. By the way, I’m Niall Horan. I’m the second-newest member of the stat team. I asked if you were in the cubicle next to mine because I wanted to make sure you had somebody young to help navigate you through the first few days.”

“Thanks, Niall. I really appreciate that. I’m Mia Simon, but you already knew that.” She extends her hand, and they shake hands, an unspoken agreement to be friends.

***

One week later, on Mia’s second Monday at the job, she and Niall are sitting in the break room, chatting and finishing their lunches, when Andrew walks in.

“Ah, good. Just the two people I wanted to see,” he says, and clears his throat importantly. “Two of our senior statisticians are really sick. They both have strep throat and are very contagious, and they’ll be out for at least a week. In any case, I need two more people to fly to Florida tomorrow with the group to help explain some stuff to the players and coaches. I was hoping you two youngsters would like to come along to see what Spring Training is all about. In addition, I was hoping some young faces would help the players pay more attention to what we’re saying.”

There is a silence, while the two process what Andrew told them. Then, once it hits them, their mouths drop open. The two look at each other like little kids who were just told by their parents that they’re on their way to Walt Disney World.

“This has to be a mistake,” Mia says after her heart rate slows a little. “Why us?”

“Because you are the only two junior statisticians on the team who haven’t been through any part of the preseason or regular season yet. Niall was hired in October, right after the season ended, since we didn’t make the playoffs. And you were obviously just hired. We wanted to give you an opportunity to see what it would be like, if and when you become senior statisticians. Besides, you two are our best and brightest new additions anyway. I saw what you did with Styles’ stats, Mia. You’ll do great. Don’t worry too much.”

Andrew smiles encouragingly at them. “I’ll let you two go home when you’re done eating and pack. I’ll see you bright and early at the airport, all right? Eight o’clock sharp. We’ll be there for four days, including tomorrow, so keep that in mind.”

***

Back at her apartment, Mia is riddled with anxiety. She doesn’t know what to pack, because she’s never been on a trip quite like this one, so she calls Niall. He picks up on the second ring.

“Hey! What’s up?”

“Hi Niall. I have no idea what to pack for this trip. Do I pack business casual? Or do I pack team apparel? Or do I just pack regular clothes? Help me!”

She knows she sounds a little crazy and desperate, but she doesn’t care. She’s too wrapped up in her own anxiety about meeting members of the team she’s been rooting for as long as she can remember.

“Whoa,” Niall says, a little taken aback. “Calm down a little. It’s just a business trip. I would say pack business casual and maybe put a jersey or two in there as well if you really want to. We’re meeting the team as statisticians, not as fans, you gotta remember that.”

“Right,” Mia grounds herself. “Of course. I’m so dumb. I’m just so excited that I let my emotions get ahead of my logical self. Okay.”

“You gonna be okay now?”

“Yeah, Niall. I think I’ll be fine. Thanks. Bye. See you tomorrow at the airport, eight o’clock sharp.” Mia smiles into the phone, despite her nerves.

“Bye Mia,” Niall says, and hangs up.

Mia tosses a couple of her favorite jerseys into her bag, including one that reads STYLES with a number 10 on the back. He has been her favorite player since he was called up to the majors a few years back. She’s a little overly anxious to meet him, she thinks. She tells herself to calm down. He’s just another person. They’re all just people. Why is this so intimidating?

***

Bright and early the following morning, or rather, dark and early at 6am, Mia rolls out of bed, exhausted, but with a big smile on her face. She’s going to fly down to Florida! She’s going to meet some of her favorite players! And best of all, she’s doing it in an official capacity as a statistician for the team,so they have to listen to her. Admittedly, this makes her a little more nervous, because she has no idea what she’s supposed to say, but she’s too excited to let it bother her.

After showering and getting dressed, she tries to eat a light breakfast, but she’s too nervous to eat. She only manages a few bites of food, so she grabs a banana and a couple of granola bars to take with her. She calls Niall on her way out the door, and gets his voicemail. When she arrives at the terminal at 7:40,  she’s greeted by Andrew and two other senior statisticians from the office, Daniel and James. Niall arrives at the gate five minutes before their boarding call, super out of breath, but with a wide smile on his face.

“My alarm didn’t go off,” he says by way of explanation for his sweaty, disheveled self. “In all the excitement yesterday, I must’ve set it for 6:30pm somehow. If it hadn’t been for Mia calling me when she was leaving her apartment, I don’t think I would’ve made it. I’m lucky I live relatively close to the airport.”

“Well, Niall,” Daniel clears his throat and smirks at him. “We’re, um, glad you’re here.” He glances at Mia, who narrows her eyes at him.

“Me too!” Niall agrees, oblivious to the clear venom in Daniel’s voice.

Luckily, their boarding number is called then, before Mia can say anything to Daniel that might damage her career. They are sitting in business class, which is a first for both Mia and Niall. They’re assigned seats are next to each other, which they appreciate. The looks that they’re getting from Daniel and James are unpleasant, to say the least. Mia is a bit uncomfortable when she realizes that she’s the only woman in their group, but then she remembers that it was supposed to be Andrew, James, Daniel, George, and Sue. There aren’t that many women in the office, she realizes, and somehow that calms her enough that she falls right into a deep sleep that carries her all the way to Florida.

***

“Wake up, Mia!” Niall whisper-shouts into her ear.

She sits bolt upright, obviously startled, and then slouches a bit and swats at him. “You scared me!”

“Sorry. I guess I had too much coffee. We’re about to land in Florida, by the way. That’s why I was waking you.”

“Oh, okay, cool.” Mia says, and turns to snuggle back into her comfy seat. But then his words register. “What?! We’re here?!” she squeals, and then, realizing that she’s in public, quiets herself. She’s still bouncing in her seat a little when the pilot announces the time, the weather, and that they’ve arrived.

Mia and Niall catch up with the rest of the group at baggage claim, as they’d rushed off the plane as soon as they could. The two friends get stuck behind a family of six who were blocking the end of the gangway to the plane by taking a selfie with the “Welcome to Orlando” sign. The family is clearly headed to Disney World, but Niall and Mia still think they have the better end of the stick. Once everyone has their luggage, the group gets into a set of two waiting cars. Daniel and James get into the first one, and Andrew insists on getting into the second with Mia and Niall to prepare them for their first full-team meeting.

When they get to the sports complex, the driver tells them that their bags will be brought to their hotel rooms and will be there when they arrive there in the evening. They all nod, and step out of the car. Mia is on autopilot and silent, taking everything in, when they arrive at the fancy boardroom where they’ll be having the meeting. Mia is the last of the group to enter, and when she does, she loses her breath for a moment out of shock. Her eyes sweep the room, looking at all the players, and she locks eyes with Harry Styles.

[alaska-riversong]

FanX with David Tennant

Last weekend I had the opportunity of a lifetime; a chance to meet my idol not once, not twice, but three times. I finally have the time and opportunity to sit down and write about my experience last weekend so I hope you enjoy it as much as I did. I’m sitting here looking at my pictures and yes, I am drinking my “David Tennant in my Dreams” tea from Adagio Teas. It’s my process, don’t judge me.

Anyone who knows me knows that I adore David Tennant. Many people have questioned my sanity as well as my life choices regarding this, but I do have my reasons. While David doesn’t have the body of Chris Hemsworth, the dreamy sky-blue eyes of Tom Hiddleston, he does have magically majestic hair, deep soulful golden-brown eyes, a smile that lights up the darkest corners of the universe, and a very talented left eyebrow. David is also a talented actor and has an enormous range where he can play comedy, drama, and anything in between with equal ease. He has played a bouncing puppy-like world-class lover in “Cassanova”, a grumpy disgruntled lethargic detective in “Broadchurch”, everyone’s favorite Doctor in “Doctor Who”, and a truly evil narcissistic villain with no moral compass in “Jessica Jones”. But the main reason I adore David Tennant is that even though he is a successful and brilliant actor, he is genuinely nice, and a very decent human being who treats his fans with respect and dignity and is truly a humble and gracious individual. If you have the opportunity to meet him, I highly suggest that you do. You will not regret it.

Believe it or not, I have tried to find anyone who has actually met or interacted with him, that either doesn’t like him or has something negative to say about him. So far, the only negative thing I’ve heard was from his co-star Freema Agyeman (Martha Jones) in Doctor Who that complained that David and John Barrowman had farting contests in the Tardis. In the grand scheme of things, while it’s a little gross and juvenile, I don’t find that to be overly bad. He is loved by all of his co-stars, his directors, and has been known to be a man with very little ego and very easy to work with.

It would take too much time for me to write down absolutely everything that happened at FanX (the official name of the Comic-Con I attended), especially if I went over every detail of each of the 3 times I met David, so instead, I will give you an overall experience of all encounters and highlights. I had a photo-op on Thursday, an autograph signing later that afternoon, another photo-op on Friday morning, and David’s panel later that afternoon.

One of the best things about a Con is finding other people who share your passions for a particular fandom franchise. I was able to geek out about Star Wars, Firefly, Star Trek, Harry Potter, Doctor Who, and David Tennant (who has been in 3/5 of those fandoms). Most of Thursday was spent standing in line with other fans of David Tennant, and as much as I hate standing in line I really enjoyed talking to other people who loved him as much as I did. We swapped stories about how we discovered him, our favorite role he’s played, and whether we’ve met him before. We also swapped stories of our knowledge of him and his roles, what we adored about him, and what we were looking forward to when we met him. Half of the crowd dressed up in a variety of costumes from Doctor Who or other projects David has been in, and we acknowledged each other’s efforts and creativity. It was a glorious validation of adoration for a skinny Scottish bloke. David’s lines were the largest, most crowded, and most excited lines in the entire Con. There was also quite a bit of squealing (not from me) but from others.

If you’ve read my dissertation about my first meeting with David, you’ll remember me saying something about time being one of the most precious things an individual can share with you. I have met 4 celebrities in my life, 3 of them (David, Catherine Tate, and John Barrowman) were extremely rewarding and enjoyable because the celebrities actually focused time and energy (even though it was only for a few seconds) with me as an individual fan, the other celebrity just wasn’t into it. There is a scene in “Galaxy Quest” where the actors of the show are at a Comic-Con and most of them are not happy to be there, just signing things in an assembly line, and ignoring their fans. There are some celebrities that do this, but David is not one of them.

One of my favorite things that happened while waiting in line was being able to observe David interacting with other fans to see how he treated others. How a person treats others, especially when they think no one is watching, is a great barometer for who a person truly is. Here is what I observed: David treated every fan with the same dignity, graciousness, energy, and humility. EVERY … SINGLE… ONE!!! He did not give his fans a half-hearted cookie-cutter greeting, he gave each fan (or group of fans) an excited high-pitched individualized greeting that let them know that he was just as excited to meet them as we were to meet him. He looked everyone in the eye or at least tried to as some were reduced to hysterical giggling and couldn’t bear to return his intense gaze. When it was your turn to be in his presence he was completely focused on you, even for the brief amount of time you had with him. If you made the attempt to interact with him, he made the effort to interact with you and did not let the handlers (employees at the Con whose job it is to move the crowd along) bully him or you. Every fan got their moment with David. He did not avoid contact with his fans especially in the photo booth; he shook hands, he put his arms around them, he held hands, he made funny faces and goofy poses, and genuinely looked like he was having a good time. He was game to do any crazy pose or situation as long as you requested it and it wasn’t overly inappropriate. There were only two instances when I saw his countenance fall from his jovial demeanor; both times happened when he was not interacting with anyone directly and when he thought no one was looking. The fall in countenance was not necessarily a change in mood or demeanor but rather a relaxation or break in activity. He did not seem tired, angry, or upset it was simply a pause so he could take a deep breath and continue the energy. As an actor, he is trained to react, and nobody has better facial reactions than David Tennant. He rarely has a stoic expression (unless he’s playing Detective Alec Hardy in Broadchurch), and the myriad of natural facial expressions that came across his face while dealing with several uncooperative pens was extremely entertaining. I wish I could have taken a video of it.

The Con was set up so that the celebrity guests could travel between the photo ops and autograph areas behind secured walls without having to interact or be seen by their adoring fans. David, however, chose to be seen and traveled between events amongst the unwashed masses. Other celebrities would come out behind the magic curtains and wave at their fans, but I don’t remember seeing anyone traveling in the common area between events. If you’ve ever watched him in Doctor Who or seen David move you know he tends to run and is very fast. I honestly believe David doesn’t have a slow speed. The man is 6’1 with a 7ft stride and can cover great distances quickly, he is very fast. There is always a security detail around David because of his popularity, this detail is usually made up of handlers who may or may not know much about him and aren’t exactly trained in security, they are simply human barriers to keep the fans from tackling David. I saw David, surrounded by about 6 individuals in FanX Security t-shirts traveling between venues and it was quite comical. The first time he was doing a slight jog, but moving briskly while the handlers were running to keep up with him. The second time he started off in a brisk walk that swiftly turned into a jog, that basically left the handlers scrambling behind him as they realized their charge had outrun them and he was left unprotected. As the crowd cheered, David smiled and waved acknowledging their adoration when he passed by.

My first interaction was a photo op. All I wanted in this photo was an opportunity to the nearest equivalent to a hug I could get. I wasn’t nervous, but I was excited. When it was my turn, he looked me in the eye, smiled that glorious smile and gave me a very high pitched and excited “Hiiiiiiii, how are you?” I honestly can’t remember what I said or even if I responded coherently. He held his right arm out welcoming me to stand beside him and like a moth to a flame I snuggled up to his side. David takes thousands of pictures with his fans, smiling for most of them, and he has a fake smile that he uses to save his face from going into permanent paralysis and a genuine smile. Knowing this, I wanted to say something to him that would entice him to give me a real smile. I wrapped my arm around his tiny waist (to put things into perspective I have an 18-inch reach and my arm was slack with my hand on his waist), and he put his hand on my back. I squeezed just a little to see how huggable he was and I was not disappointed. For a skinny guy he is extremely huggable and cuddly and if you take a good look at both photos, he is leaning into me. Before the picture was snapped I said something to the effect of, “I flew all the way from Alaska to see you on stage in London as Don Juan,” or at least that is what I intended to say. I honestly believe he gave me a genuine smile because of it. After the camera flashed David turned to look down at me, I also think he even squatted a little to be more on my level, touched my right forearm as he very deftly moved me in front of him to escort me out of the booth and said, “Oh wow, thank you for coming so far, I really appreciate it.” He was still looking me in the eye as I was excited and babbling something about it being the best experience and best performance I’d ever seen. All of the above was only in the first encounter. The encounter lasted maybe 10 seconds but it’s something I will never forget because he was kind, he was gracious, he was humble, and was genuine.

My second interaction was an autograph later that same day as the photo. I got in line an hour early for the very first autograph session at 4:30 but didn’t get up to the front of the line until the 7:30 session. You could purchase a $100 autograph or you could purchase a customized autograph for $130 where he would personalize an autograph on something you brought, or on one of the stock photos available on the table. I brought one of my tickets from Don Juan for him to sign. For those who don’t know how this works, when you buy your ticket for a personalized autograph you tell the person you buy your ticket from exactly what you want him to write on the item he is signing and they put it on a sticky so he can have the proper spelling and make the line go faster. I simply wanted him to dedicate it to me and sign his name. After the fact, I realized I could have had him write sooooo much more… maybe next time. My sticky note just said, “To Cindy”. When it was my turn, he looked at the sticky note and very excitedly (and again high-pitched) said, “Cindy, Hi there.” Hearing him say my name in his Scottish brogue and then look me in the eye was just unreal. I beamed like an idiot and reminded him again that I came from Alaska to see him on stage. While looking me in the eye he replied, “Oh, well thank you, I’m so glad you came…” he looked at the tickets and continued, “Great seats too. Thank you for coming Cindy.” I’m sure I babbled something about how much I enjoyed it but I was only focused on what he was saying.

I was a little disappointed in myself for not saying what I truly wanted to say to him but I knew my time was limited and I knew I wanted this experience to be positive for both of us, so I strictly kept to the topic of his stage appearance of Don Juan. What I wanted to tell him was that seeing him on stage in Don Juan in 2017 was the first time I had felt true joy since my mother and sister died in 2016. I wanted to thank him for giving me an opportunity to see him on stage and finally allowing myself to feel something other than despair. I also wanted to tell him how happy it would have made my mom to know that I got to meet him and to find out that he drinks Diet Dr. Pepper (which he happened to be drinking while signing autographs). I knew that if I even attempted to say anything like this I may not be able to hold my composure in his presence and I didn’t want to be that fan that cried. I also knew it would dampen the jovial atmosphere that David tends to generate. Maybe someday when I have more confidence or time I will tell him. But for now, I was happy for what little interaction I had. He said my name twice, he looked me in the eye, he interacted with me as an individual and gave me a gorgeous smile. All in all, it was a great experience.

Thursday was really exhausting, and it was very hot at the Con. I had brought 2 Donna Noble related outfits to wear and had worn the first one on Thursday. The second one was the long gray dress-length shirt and purple cardigan with jeans from “Silence in the Library”. Because it was so hot and because my gray dress-length shirt was long enough, I decided to go as pants-less Donna (no mas pantalones). I wore a sign on my back that read “Donna Temple Noble, Best Temp in Chiswick, Sometimes she forgets…, If found, please return to: Wilfred Mott, Sylvia, The Doctor.” I don’t think David saw it but a few other people did and even recognized my costume. I even had one brave teenaged girl tap me on the shoulder and said, “I don’t know if you know this… but there’s something on your back” (this is a reference to a Doctor Who episode “Turn Left” not the sign on my back). It totally made my day and justified my costume choice. I also added an Alaskan element of a scarf of forget-me-nots, Alaska’s state flower and something that is very integral to the storyline of Donna.

My third and final interaction with David was a photo op first thing Friday around noon. I knew I wanted a pose with my sonic screwdriver and this time I remembered to bring it in with me to the photo booth. When David saw me, he said “Hiiiiii” again in a high pitched excited voice but this time it was slightly different. The way it was pitched indicated to me that he either recognized me from yesterday or recognized that I was attempting to dress as Donna Noble. I’d like to think he recognized me from yesterday, so that is what I’m going to assume. Again, he held out his arm to welcome me to stand beside him. I held out my extended sonic screwdriver to him and he took it looking me in the eye asking, “Oh, do you want me to hold it?” I somehow blurted out the concept that I wanted us to hold it together, to which he very happily complied. He placed it in my hand and then wrapped his hand around mine, he then wrapped his arm around my shoulder and pulled me close to him. He was sooooooo close to me I could feel his body heat and when I realized I was close enough to kiss his neck I internally whimpered (at least I hope it was internal) and fought the urge to just nestle into the crook of his neck. You’d think that a man that tall and skinny would be hard, stiff and immovable as a tree, but you’d be wrong. He was soft, squeezable, and for the record, he snuggled into me, not that I was complaining by any means. My suspicions of him being a cuddler and a really good hugger are somewhat confirmed but I believe more research may be in order… for science. I don’t remember if I said anything after the photo but I do remember him handing back my sonic screwdriver, looking me in the eye, smiling, and thanking me for coming.

Seriously, how can anyone not love this man after an interaction like that???? Remember, he interacted with everyone he came into contact with, with the same enthusiasm, energy, humility, graciousness, and kindness. He is a human being worthy of the adoration and passion his fans give him. You cannot say that about all celebrities, but David is worthy of the time, effort, and money that so many people eagerly spend on him.

No, I did not have the forethought to smell him. I was too busy trying to remember to hold my stomach in, look him in the eye, breathe, and try not to say something stupid to remember to inhale his presence. After the pictures were taken I do remember feeling the sense that he probably smells of sunshine, joy, and the wishes made upon shooting stars. Sorry, I really wished I had taken a big whiff of his essence, but I do know he was very pleasant to be around. Maybe next time I will get to sniff him. Rest assured, there will be a next time.

[madfatty]

the careful and considered musings of an uncertain cupid - an mmfd fic #24

A million years ago I asked if anyone had a particular behind-the-scenes type of thing that they wanted to read and @i-dream-of-emus posed the following scenario:

What happens to Archie between Barney kissing him during Spin the Bottle, and the next morning, when Archie tells Rae that he is definitely gay? Does he spend any time with Barney or have any significant conversations with anyone else?

After much wailing and gnashing of teeth, it’s done. Whether I hit the brief on not is beyond my understanding at this point as I’ve lost all perspective and I’m just posting it out of sheer bloody-mindedness. As Barney will tell you, it’s now or bloody never.

It’s from Barney’s POV because it seemed to me he was the one who could best tell the story. Whether it’s the story you’re expecting, remains to be seen. In return for the telling, I’ve given him a surname and an Irish cousin.  

In spite of all my ungracious whining, my thanks go to @i-dream-of-emus for the truly interesting (and challenging) prompt and for the encouraging words, although I’m probably more the writing equivalent of a tortoise than a word warrior I very much appreciate the sentiment. Also, big squishy thanks to @bitchy-broken for the twice-over and the good advice.  

I apologise in advance to any Irish readers for my blatant inference that the Irish can, at times, perhaps be a little difficult to understand.

So, after an age and without further ado, I offer you, for the time being at least, the careful and considered musings of an uncertain cupid (no copyright infringement in the title for a change. I came up with that one one my own). Make use of it as you see fit.

Let us now draw a line under it and speak of it no more. I thank you xo

the careful and considered musings of an uncertain cupid

Midway through his approach, Barney started second-guessing his plan. Fuelled by three lagers and half a spliff, it had seemed as good an idea as any at the time, but the look of mild panic in Archie’s eyes as he swooped down on him gave Barney pause for thought. Archie’s immediate reluctance had Barney regretting his actions but with gritted teeth he leaned in to the kiss. There was no going back now, he’d committed, so he forged on, gripping Archie’s face firmly but gently and planted one on him.  There was no danger of tongues, which Barney was grateful for, and though rigid to begin with, Archie didn’t struggle and there might have been a slight puckering of lips towards the end there, which Barney decided to take as a positive sign.

In hindsight, he had to admit it may not have been the subtlest of moves, but short of walking up to Archie and asking him straight out if he was into guys, he couldn’t think of another way of sounding him out, so when the bottle landed on Arch, Barney saw his opportunity and went for it. Thinking about it now, Barney conceded he may have been overly convinced of his own snogging abilities to expect that with one kiss, Archie would be moved to suddenly declare himself gay in front of God and everyone, but that’s what three lagers and half a spliff can do for your confidence.

Bloody cousin Kit, it was all his fault. If he hadn’t been dragging his face around since he’d arrived in Stamford, Barney wouldn’t have felt the need to get involved.  After the beating he’d taken back home, it would have been sensible for him to steer well clear of any sort of… shenanigans for a while, at least until he was fully healed anyway, but no, after a kick-around with the lads last Sunday afternoon, Kit’s mood had brightened considerably, thanks to one Archie Spencer. Barney had spent the rest of the week facing a barrage of increasingly personal and unanswerable questions which included favourite colours and ice cream flavours, and the most often repeated, “Do you think he could be gay?”

+++

Barney gets to stand closer than most to the gang and while he’s not specifically looking for things, there’s stuff he can’t help but see. Like Chop; if Chop doesn’t get his head out of his arse soon and stop faffing about, he’s going to blow it with Izzy for good. It’s only the fact that he knows Izzy is completely besotted with the idiot that stops Barney from making a move on the redhead himself. She’s an absolute cracker and wasted on the likes of Chop Peters as far as he’s concerned, but the heart wants what it wants, he supposes, and there’s no accounting for taste.

Then there’s the two new girls who have recently made for interesting times. Their little group has become quite the sordid hot bed of hormones and longing. It’s like an episode of Eastenders most days.

After flirting with a number of lads, and some unsubstantiated rumours about a certain PE teacher, Chloe has finally set her sights on Finn. Not that it will get her anywhere, poor lass, because Finn’s got it bad for Rae, who’s either oblivious or just not interested.  It could be because she’s still carrying some more-than-friendly feelings for Archie. Who would know? You’d be forgiven for thinking they were a couple, what with all the whispering and giggling and wandering off to private corners to talk amongst themselves, but no, ‘just mates’, apparently.  

And not that he needs any sympathy from the likes of him, but Barney can’t help but spare a thought for Finn. With a pulling history unrivalled locally, he now finds himself on the sidelines, just like a regular bloke, looking on anxiously, biting his fingernails and biding his time, trying to figure out if he should make his move now or wait until his best friend decides once and for all  if he wants to call romantic first dibs on the girl he fancies. See? Eastenders.

Archie is a tough one though. Girls fancy him something rotten. There are always at least one or two sniffing around him at any given time.  Barney reckons it’s the specky-muso-sensitive-geek vibe Arch has going for him. But while Barney has seen him get off with various girls over the years, it very rarely lasts longer than a weekend at most and though many have tried, none have ever managed to attain girlfriend status.  

Whatever. They’re teenagers, nothing is supposed to last more than a week or two anyway, so it isn’t proof of anything. Other than the fact Archie always seems to have one eye on the door, like he’s counting down the days to a life beyond the rest of them, there is nothing that Barney can put his finger on that would indicate there is anything different about him.

Not that it’s any skin off Barney’s nose if Archie is gay. The way he sees it, it just means better odds for the rest of them. Theoretically. Plus, he’s a good guy is Arch, and Barney knows Kit would be in safe hands, even if it turns out that Archie isn’t. Gay.

+++

Kit’s doing his head in. Every time Barney turns around, he’s right there under his feet, big soulful eyes pleading and his palms pressed together. It’s so not fair. It’s a party for fuck’s sake. He’s supposed to be getting rat-arsed and trying to get off with girls, not playing matchmaker for his over-excited cousin. It’s becoming clear however, he’s not going to have a minute’s peace until he talks to Archie so, with a belly full of booze and a warped sense of familial loyalty, and without the first idea of what he’s going to say, or where a conversation like the one he thinks is going to take place will end up, he begins a circuit of the house, nicking two orphaned cans of premium lager from the sideboard on his way through and goes in search of his bespectacled mate.

+++

He’s not hard to find, sitting on his own in a quiet corner of the dining room, monitoring the slow demolition of Rae’s house with mild disinterest. Before he can think about it, Barney rolls his neck and shakes his arms out like a boxer and braces himself for whatever comes next.  

“Oi, Spencer,” He barks, causing Archie to blink up at him owlishly from behind his glasses. He hands him one of the cans and lowers himself to the floor, cross-legged, “you don’t fancy me now do you?”

“Nah. Sorry.” Despite his casual tone, Archie’s body language shifts immediately from the relaxed slouch he was wearing seconds ago to something tense and wary. He pops the lager open and slides back towards the French doors to put some distance between them when their knees bump.

“Yeah well, I only used one lip. Didn’t want to spoil you for everyone else.”

“Very thoughtful of you, Barney.”  Archie’s smile is tight and goes nowhere near his eyes.

“It’s probably for the best.” Barney sighs dramatically. “I’m a free spirit Arch; I can’t be tied down and I won’t be tamed.”

“I appreciate you letting me know.”  

“So, not in love then, but not traumatised either, eh?” asks Barney, hopefully.

“Only by your breath.”

“Hey!” Barney cups the hand that’s not holding his drink up to his mouth and breathes out, his nose wrinkling in disgust. “And noted.”

A longish, awkward silence follows, where Barney alternates between staring at his hands and nodding amiably at anyone who wanders past and Archie distractedly taps out, what sounds very much to Barney like Pulp’s ‘Do You Remember the First Time?’ on the side of his can with his fingernail. Halfway through the second verse, Archie huffs and stands, looking around the room for somewhere else to be.

“Well,” he drawls, “It’s been nice chatting with you Barney, as always.”

If Barney’s really going to do this, it’s now or bloody never.

“Wait!” Barney grabs at Archie’s wrist and pulls him back down to the floor. “It’s just… some fellas would have freaked out about it, yeah? Would have thought it was gross. Being kissed by a lad. But you didn’t. You took it like a pro.” He blurts out.  

Well shit, that had sounded less… judgy in his head. He’d been aiming for casual; sort of man-of-the-world, sophisticated but it definitely didn’t have any of that. On reflection, a practice run might have been the way to go, or at least waiting until he had a fully formed thought about what he was going to say before he started. His tone could probably use some work too because Archie looks like he’s been slapped. Barney wishes he could take it all back and start again.

“You kissed me, remember?” There’s something tense and fearful in Archie’s eyes. And hurt. Which is the worst part.  He doesn’t look away though.

Maybe Barney has the answer to Kit’s question but at what cost? The hollow feeling in the pit of his stomach proves once and for all what he’d already suspected, that it’s none of his business and it really doesn’t matter either way. What does matter is Archie, and not hurting his feelings.  Kit will be gone in a couple of weeks, but Barney will still be here and so will Archie. He needs to fix this.

“I know, I know. Look, I didn’t mean… I just meant that you were cool about it and that’s really… cool.” Jesus, he mutters under his breath, could I be any more pathetic? There’s a moment when he think there’s a real possibility he could go blind, his eyes have rolled so far back in his head. “I mean, It’s no big deal, is it? Two lads kissing. Plenty of people… lads do it so, it’s not like it’s weird or anything. At all. Not normal but… well, not ‘not’ normal, ‘normal’s’ not the right word, not… usual. Different is what I meant.  But it’s okay, is what I’m saying….”  Thankfully God or someone of a similar pay grade intervenes before it gets any worse and he’s able to hit the pause button on his verbal incontinence. That’s right, Barney-boy. Put the shovel down. The hole’s big enough.  

“I need to stop talking for a bit.” Barney lets his head fall between his knees while he tries to pull some much needed air into his lungs. From his current position he is spared the rich tapestry of facial tics and expressions that accompany the rapid flow of emotions currently coursing through his friend as he tries to process what’s just been said.

“I think that would be best.”

Eventually, after another silence, not quite as long but far more awkward than the previous one Archie says, “That was very enlightened of you, mate.”

“Thanks.” Whispers Barney, still quietly trying to assess the damage. He forces himself to unfold, leaning forward and lower so he can look Archie in the eye. “Are we good though, you and me? I’m good,” he says earnestly, his hand splayed across his chest, “and I just want to know that you’re good too. That it’s all… good.” His other hand lands on Archie’s forearm and before he can stop himself he gives it what he hopes is a reassuring squeeze. Judging by the look on Archie’s face, this maybe a step too far.  

“Jesus, don’t start that again, Barney, for fuck’s sake.”  Archie groans, shaking him off.  

“Right. Sorry.” Please God, let him not have fucked this up. Lesson learnt. Kit can get his own bloody boyfriends in future.  

“It’s alright. There’s no harm done.” Archie sighs, draining his drink and stacking it neatly with the other empties he’s got stashed behind the French door curtains. Archie’s got quite the collection going.

“Good. Sorry. I mean, excellent.”  Barney thinks now would be a good time to take a break from all the weirdness; go for a walk, find a drink, maybe bang his head against a brick wall outside for a bit. Archie seems to have the same idea.

He stands and stretches out, reconnoitres the room. Without warning, he drops back to the floor next to Barney like someone just switched off gravity. None too subtly, he leans over and mutters from the side of his mouth into Barney’s ear.

“Don’t look now, but there’s a strange guy watching us from the kitchen.”  

“What? Where?”  He doesn’t have to turn around to know who Archie’s talking about, but he makes a show of looking anyway.  Kit startles, deer-in-the-headlights fashion, at being caught staring and swiftly ducks behind the doorway out of view. Not two seconds later he’s back, well, half of him anyway, peeking out around the corner. It’d be hilarious if they weren’t actually related.  

“Didn’t I say ‘don’t look now’?” Archie hisses, punching Barney on the shoulder, rather hard.

“Ow. Easy.  D’you mean that long streak of piss over my shoulder? The one trying to look like he’s not at all interested in what’s being said over here?”

Archie’s voice is slightly higher than normal when he answers.

“The er, tall guy, black hair, kind of…” Archie doesn’t finish the thought.  His cheeks colour and he dips his head to hide it. “I think he was at the park the other day.”

“That’s my cousin, Kit.  He’s staying at ours over the holidays.”  

“What happened to his face?”

Barney hesitates. He doesn’t want to lie to Archie but it isn’t his story to tell. “Couple of guys where he’s from thought they had a say in who he could and couldn’t hang out with.”

“That’s horrible.”

He thinks about Kit’s face when he first arrived in Stamford, the ugly patchwork of yellow and purple and how he wouldn’t leave the house for the first three days. Horrible doesn’t even begin to cover it.

“Yeah, it was, but he’s on the mend now.” He watches Archie watching Kit with a look of genuine concern. The longer it goes on, the softer Archie’s gaze becomes, until it’s something else entirely. Eventually he seems to remember himself and looks away nervously. Barney’s blushing almost as hotly as Archie when he decides. He may have only just finished promising God that he’s not going to interfere, but if it turns out Archie’s interested on his own, surely introducing them wouldn’t be considered interfering. It’s just good manners.  

“Hey, you couldn’t do me a favour could you Arch? Could I maybe leave him with you for a bit?”

“You want me to babysit? Why? Is there something wrong with him?”

“Of course there‘s something fucking wrong with him! Look at him, he’s daft as a brush, darting in and out like some whack-a-mole at a fun fair,” is what Barney wants to say, but it would defeat the purpose so he adopts an affronted tone and blusters,

“Of course there’s nothing wrong with him! Why would you ask that for fuck’s sake?”

“Well, you’re acting like his mum or something, trying to get us to play together. Why can’t he make friends on his own?”

“He’s shy, is all. Please Arch, he’s slowing me down, with the ladies, you know?”

“Slowing you down, or showing you up?” Archie’s always fancied himself a bit of a comedian and Barney’s always seen it as his duty to remind him otherwise, but he’ll tolerate the smirk and the raised eyebrows this one time for the sake of his cause. No one can say that Barney Maguire isn’t a team player.

“Oi!  Rude. And a little bit hurtful. Oh come on, be a pal.” Barney whines. “I can hardly leave him with the likes of Charlie or Mick or any of those tossers now, can I? He’d end up on Crimewatch for driving the getaway car and me ma’d crease me.”

“So what you’re saying is you can leave him with me because I’m boring.”

Barney hasn’t had nearly enough to drink for all this. Matchmaking sucks. There’s too much thinking you have to do and it’s all about other people. He doesn’t even put this much effort in to trying to get his own dates.

“Look, I just think you’d get on, alright?” he tells Archie. “He likes football and sci-fi movies and all that mopey, indie crap you call music. He’s into boring books about the olden days and that weird Goth comic-thing you’re always reading.” He stops himself before he mentions the piano playing and the competitive swimming, afraid he may have over-egged the pudding already. Barney had no idea that he knew so much about either of them.  It’s a little disconcerting.

“I dunno, Barn…” Archie bares the posture of the overwhelmed. He’s all wrapped around himself, knees drawn up tight to his chest, face pressed into his thighs. If he starts rocking, Barney’s not sure that he knows what to do.  

This was too big a job for the likes of him, he can see that now. This emotional stuff is draining, and it’s starting to give him a headache. What made him think he had the first clue about getting two people together when he can’t even manage to find someone for himself? Archie’s clearly not into it, which would strongly indicate that Archie’s not even gay, so all this self-humiliation has all been for nothing. It’s the first and last time he involves himself in someone else’s love life, that’s for sure.

He doesn’t know what else to do. It just seems a shame, is all. God, he needs drink.

“You know what? You’re right. Forget about it.” He sighs, holding his lager to his lips and up-ending it hopefully. Empty. Of course it is. “You’re a good guy, Arch and you always treat people decent but I shouldn’t have asked. Kit’s not your problem.”  

There’s a muffled groan and almost a whole minute of what sounds like an intense solo debate. Barney can’t make any of it out as it’s delivered directly into Archie’s lap.  With a deep sigh of resignation, Archie turns to face him, cheek still resting on his leg. “Go on then.” He huffs.

“Huh?”

“I’ll babysit.”

“You will?” Barney squeaks, his face nearly splitting in two with delight before he sobers. He drops his voice back to its normal octave as he raises his hands in conciliation. “You don’t have to.”

Archie actually growls. “So help me Barney, I will punch you right in your stupid face…”

“Okay, okay.’ Still waving his hands about. “Did I say he was Irish? I only mention it because you may not understand most of what he’s saying. I’m related to him and I still have no idea what he’s on about most of the time.”

Barney concedes this may be a discussion best left to another time if Archie’s glare is anything to go by.

“I’m going to send him over now, alright Arch?”

Archie swallows nervously. “Alright.”

Barney grins, and slaps Archie good-naturedly, if not a little too enthusiastically, on the arm. “Good man.”  Barney stands and waves Kit over from where he’s been lurking. Before he walks away, Barney turns and stage whispers, “Remember, don’t make fun of his accent.”

He watches the tall scruffy Irish boy make his way over, self-consciously running a hand through his hair, straightening his shirt. He wonders what Archie’s face is doing but doesn’t dare turn around to find out. He thinks it must be encouraging at least because Kit’s smile keeps growing exponentially wider.

“Calm the fuck down, and whatever happens, don’t feel you need to share, yeah? We need never speak of it again.”  Barney growls as he passes him on his way into the kitchen. His cousin barely acknowledges him with a slight shift of his fingers and ups his pace. He’s moving so fast Barney’s afraid that Kit is going to trip over his remarkably big feet and land in an ungainly pile of over-sharp knees and elbows on the object of his affection.  Miraculously, when he comes to a full and sudden stop, Kit manages to stay upright and Archie appears unscathed.  

Kit’s still beaming as Archie extends his hand and says, “Hi, I’m Archie.”

Archie’s looking pretty pleased too. Barney wouldn’t say there were sparks exactly, but something seems to be happening. He lingers for a moment like an anxious parent, just to make sure everything’s okay and then wanders off in the direction of another drink. If he’s lucky, he’ll cross paths with some young lovely who hasn’t yet alleviated her post-spin-the-bottle disappointment with someone else. He’ll be properly pissed off if the only one in the family getting any tonight is Kit.

Playing Cupid to his gay cousin and his possibly gay mate from college would no doubt score points with soft hearted, romantically inclined girls, but it might take a little more to convince the fellas, so it’s not a story he’ll be relying on any time soon. Barney Maguire is nothing if not discreet.

The things you do for family he thinks, as he smooths a sweaty hand over his hair and goes in search of Anna Harris.

[cutieswithcanes]

Sooo… I finally got around to participate in the Copenhagen Pride Parade - should have done it many, many years ago, but life got in the way. In my case, life involves hEDS - the hypermobile version of Ehlers Danlos Syndrome, which for me includes fragility, unstable joints, fatigue and pain.

It’s been clear to me for some years that I’m not able to participate in the parade walking… Let me make this clear: I can walk, and walk quite well at that (so don’t be surprised when you actually see me walking around comfortably). Yes, I get tired, but I can make my legs walk on autopilot, if it’s at a rather fast pace and on level ground. The parade is neither. It’s slow, it stops, then moves, then stops, people will bump in to you, jostle you a lot, and the ground is, well, it’s through the streets of Copenhagen, OK? The jostling means that my Smart Crutches would be out of the question as well, as people wouldn’t notice me using them and therefore still bump into me a lot, which my fragile joints do not take kindly to.

So Stuart and I joined the Geek Pride, which is a nice little bunch of queer nerds, and I took a deeeep breath and finally bought a (cheap) wheelchair. Then we dressed up as Charles Xavier and Scott Summers (Magneto had been more appropriate, but the helmet would be hell in direct sunlight). For the record I define as genderqueer.

This IS a blow to MY pride btw (pun intended). I can walk, but I tire out easily. I want to be part of this event, but I’m not good with a big crowd pushing and shoving me. A wheelchair is the solution that both gives my legs a rest, and creates a protective space, where I’m not hurt if people bump into me (on the contrary, sorry for the sore ankles, folks). But it’s hard when you know you can move (hell, it would be even harder if I’d gotten to the point where I needed it on a daily basis I suppose), and it feels weird having this need for protection and help, when I can also be very active some days. At the same time I’m really grateful that this opportunity exists, but my mind is just very conflicted, because while I do use the word “disabled” I still move well, so it’s hard for me to suddenly let go of this control. Also, you feel extremely helpless as you sit there, you have to look upwards to meet people’s eyes, and they on the other hand have to bend down to talk to you. It feels bloody weird, and not always that pleasant. It’s a really odd mix of the wheelchair giving me freedom to do a thing, I’ve wanted for a long time, but also something that hammers into my head that my body is somewhat fucked up.

Oh, and let me say: Copenhagen is NOT accessible as a city. It’s hell for a wheelchair. And I’m extremely glad I could use my legs for the trip to the parade and back, as it would have been completely impossible getting there by public transport, had I been forced to use the chair all the way.

I am very grateful to Stuart for driving me, it meant a lot to me <3 He is quite the wonderful boyfriend ^.^

And thanks to Dud for the photos =)

[Image Description: In a crowded street there are two fair skinned individuals, one pushing another in their wheelchair. The one behind the chair is wearing a hat, sunglasses, and a black and yellow x-men jacket varsity jacket. The individual in the chair has a shaved head and is wearing a dark grey suit with a small “X” patch on it and a rainbow pin. They are both smiling widely.]

[daveywankenobie]

(Part one here)

July

The seventh month of the year is a big one and starts with me in unfamiliar territory.

My teens.

I haven’t managed to time travel to the 80’s – instead I’ve just about managed to creep into the 19st bracket, and I’m fighting to stay there.

My efforts to power through small slump this are self evident though – and I decide that it’s time to really see how far I can go. One morning (for no reason other than to see if I can) I decide to get up and walk from Warwick to Solihull (link).

It’s fifteen miles and I’ve never tried to go this far in one day before.

Although it was essentially just an exercise in determination and distance this was and still is a very important achievement for me – because it truly meant that there was practically no-where any more locally than I could drive to and get stranded in (a big fear in my mind that was always with me) because of weight related mobility issues.

If my car ever broke down in Solihull and I needed to I could now walk home.

Transitioning mentally from a man that originally couldn’t walk to the end of his street to one that could walk to Solihull was both profound and emotional. Even more upsetting though, during the journey my Apple Watch was pronounced sick and in need of repair.

I leave my fallen comrade with Apple and I’m without it for over a week.

At home I’m still working on the garden and have finally managed to turn it into a welcoming (rather than impassable) space.

My ongoing dissatisfaction with items in my house also results in the death (by hacksaw) of an old armchair and the purchase of an Ikea Poang chair – which is a step in the right direction – but also something I’m too scared to sit on in case I break it (link).

As I continue to prepare for Snowdon I look for more challenges – and revisit Burton Dassett via a longer walk from Avon Dassett (link). I’ve also got Apple Watch back, and although the gap without it has left a big hole in my stats I couldn’t be happier.

An important milestone arrives when I suddenly realise that I can now get into charity shop clothing – and I buy my very first wearable item from one (link) a Penguin jacket (which I was reliably informed was rather trendy).

I take this item of clothing (and quite a few others) to Snowdonia where on Saturday July 22nd at around 19.5 stone I climb Mount Snowdon with a friend (link).

It’s one of the proudest moments of my life – and is both very emotional and extremely symbolic. I’ve come a long way – and it’s a superb reminder of how much can be achieved!

Mostly because of this strenuous activity Supercoat (which is now way too big for me) is given to my father (link).

I’m also suddenly in 40in waisted Jacamo jeans (link) and shortly after getting my 15.5 stone certificate I also climb Thorpe Cloud (link).

August

The start of the month is excellent (link) and my HbA1c level has now dropped further to 28. My diabetic nurse tells me that if I was re-tested at that point I would no longer be diagnosed as type 2.

My diabetes appears to be in full remission.

I’m once again preparing myself for a potential return to work by buying interview clothes. The physical changes since the last time I went about this around six months before are readily apparent (link).

On August 14th I start another job (link) in the hope that this time I’ve made the right choice. It’s different mainly because I can walk to it – so therefore I can build exercise into my every day routine without feeling like it’s unnaturally forced.

Initially my feelings about the job are really positive and I’m happy. I take the long route to work whenever possible and I’m loving how fit I feel.

I’ve come a long way in terms of body confidence too and have started posting comparison shots like this on Instagram to spur me on.

It’s working – because by mid August I have my sixteen stone certificate and my the end of the month realise that I’ve walked (since April 2016) the cumulative distance from San Francisco to New York(link)!

September

The weather in September is great and although I’m working again I take advantage of it as much as I can in the evenings and weekends. I’m wandering over hill and dale with my camera and trying to capture as many pretty things as I can.

Quite out of the blue an unexpected watershed moment arrives on the way home from work and (as has happened many times in the past due to my weight) I get abused by a bunch of teenagers whilst walking through the park.

However – instead of calling me a fat c**t as I pass by (a previously preferred moniker such people had for me) they instead all shout ‘BALDY!’ (link) in unison – both stunning me and leaving me with a lot to think about.

If they don’t see me as fat any more and the worst they can come up with is an insult about my hair line – do I now look ‘normal’?

I’m forced to admit that my self perception is now seriously at odds with reality – and to further underscore this I slowly approach a significant ‘Rubicon moment’ (link).

I’ve slowed down a little – but I still have my 17 stone certificate.

However – not all is going well – and once again I realise that the job I’ve chosen isn’t for me. I decide to leave (link) and once again I don’t know what this says about me to my friends or what it means for the future.

Without warning again I feel like a complete failure.

Something does manage to cheer me up towards the end of the month however – and I attend something I booked with a few friends the year before. It’s an event I probably couldn’t have gone to easily when I said yes to it – but my hope was I’d lose enough weight to make it a reality – and I did.

I’ve always wanted to go to EGX gaming expo at the NEC but was never fit enough to stand for the time required or capable of comfortably walking the distances required around the NEC.

When I finally made it I really geeked out!

October

Largely because of a my own sense that I was losing my way a little with my diet October was dominated by #onplanoctober (link) which kept me on the straight and narrow.

I calorie counted every last morsel of food that passed my lips for the entire month.

If I’m honest this really tested the limits of my patience – but I’d promised that I’d do it – and by the end of the exercise it paid dividends because in the space of 5 weigh in’s I managed to lose 16.5lbs.

Mid way through the month I get my 17.5 stone certificate and I’m also handed a little cardboard bauble for a Christmas tree. I write something on it and then largely forget about it…

This also means that my Rubicon moment has finally arrived — and on the 7th of October I’ve finally lost more than I weigh. I make myself a Club 50 award. Over half of my original body weight has now gone.

In the first weeks of the month I start speaking publicly at Slimming World meetings (link) about my weight loss. In total I do nine of them in Warwickshie – and they’re all a humbling experience – but also very rewarding.

To see how far I’ve come in the pictures I pass around and hear the gasps in the room when I put on my old clothes is quite emotional.

I also return twice to (the now colder) Malvern Hills  (link) and Ilmington Downs (link) for more attempts at both – and I’m struck in these locations by how much easier things are getting.

Although I still have weight to lose I’m pretty darned fit at this point – and I barely get out of breath on the ascents.

I finally get around to compiling a list of non-scale victories (link) which I read to my friend for the first time and both of us start crying. In response to this I realise how important the recognition of these accomplishments is and I make a regularly updated site page (link) and add something new each time it occurs.

By October 28th I’ve lost a staggering 28 inches from my waist (link) and my photographic diary of February 2017 to October is showing some serious progress.

Furthermore I’m also able to fit into my very first LARGE items of clothing (link) and ever since I mention the word LARGE at every opportunity I get. This means that since getting into a LARGE I’ve said LARGE a LARGE number of times.

November

November kicks off with me getting an 18 stone certificate and a Mr Sleek award – which is a bit embarrassing – but also a really nice pat on the back!

My public speaking has also been received positively, and because of it I’m offered some work at a local company in a temp role – which comes in very useful as it manages to stem the outward flow from my bank account and promises to make Christmas a little less daunting.

On the 6th of November I start my job and find that (being something I’ve never done before) it makes me feel quite alive. I also get to walk 3 miles there and three miles back every day which means that I can keep up my now regular average distance of 10 miles walked per day (link).

It’s getting colder though and it’s not only the floor thats frozen – my hands and feet are too.

I keep up the walking however – partially because I rather like my new place of employment. I like it enough in fact to apply for a permanent position at the company (link) for which I’m accepted.

It’s also another thinly veiled excuse to dress up for a job interview, which underscores just how much I’ve started to enjoy clothes shopping and looking smart.

It’s my new thing!

November ends with another first and I meet a fellow blogger (link) who comes to visit for the very first time! I have a real live internet friend with a face and a body and everything!

December

The final month of 2017 finds me in an unusually festive mood and after no small amount of agonising I decide to do something for the first time in my adult life.

I buy a Christmas tree (link) and I put my little October cardboard bauble amongst it’s branches. It’s hastily scrawled words are now a reality!

I’m also now officially into 36in trousers, meaning 30 inches have been lost from my waist’s starting point.

I get my 19 stone certificate (link) on December the 9th – which is quickly followed by another unusual event.

I go dancing (with Angie and my Slimming World group) for the first time since the 90’s – and I have a fantastic time. All in all I’m on the dancefloor for around two and a half hours (completely sober) and I’m so pumped and full of energy I virtually skip home afterwards!

December seems to content to keep supplying me with firsts as well – and on the 14th I’m featured in the local newspaper (link).

This is followed soon after by an offer to appear on BBC Coventry and Warwickshire Radio (link) which is very exciting indeed (it’s due to happen this Friday 29th December at 10-10.15am) – but for some reason I’m more preoccupied with my washing machine – which is completely broken.

Priorities eh?

That pretty much brings us up to date. I had a fab Christmas – and after discovering earlier in the month that I suddenly love red (link) and wearing geek things I did pretty well for presents!

So – thats 2017 almost at a close!

I hope you enjoyed reading the second part of this retrospective as much as I did writing it internet! Join me again in a year (if you’re not already sick of me) and we’ll see what comes out of the next twelve months!

Thanks for sticking with me – it’s a genuine pleasure to write something that people like to read and comment on.

You guys and gals make it all worthwhile xxx

Davey

2017 retrospective (part two) (Part one here) July The seventh month of the year is a big one…

[malilimago]

Day two (Holding Hands): “K-Dramas and the Real Deal”

Word Count:1,505

Rating: GNF for Good N’ Fluffy!

Author’s Note: I’m a huge fan of K-drama’s so I wanted to write something that fused both world’s! Hope you enjoy! Also totally late on this one… BUT number 3 will be up later today! Happy Rucasficweek2017 y'all!

Riley took in a deep breath. It’d had been days since she’d been outside and she couldn’t have been more grateful, granted it was her last day of Spring Break, but that was beside the point. Her strep-throat was on its way out of her system and she didn’t feel like death anymore!  

She smiled as she watched her group of friends rounded the corner. They were just as excited as she was. “RILES!” Maya cheered as she raced down the sidewalk into the arms of her first love. “Oh, honey, I’ve missed you!” 

“And I you, Peaches!”

When Maya was done, everyone took their turns embracing the cute little brunette with the exception of Lucas who just smiled at her. Not that he didn’t want to hug her, it’s just that’s how they were. Slow as turtles, but happy as clams. The gang decided to go to their typical hangout before heading to the movies.

“So, what did you do all week?” Smackle asked.

Riley lit up. “Catch up on my dramas!” 

Maya and Farkle rolled their eyes. Out of all the obsessions Riley had, her “drama’s” were the most annoying. 

“Is that a new television show?”

Her eyes widened. “OH NO! It’s Many many shows!”

“I do not understand.”

Farkle placed a hand on his gorgeous brainiac’s shoulder and sighed.

“She’s talking about Korean drama’s.” 

“Oh, I have never seen one of those.” 

“DON’T!” Maya chimed in. “It’s basically Rileytown in another Language.”

“IT IS!” Riley added with a drunken grin.

Smackle nodded then sat back, trying her best to hold her tongue. Farkle winked at her causing the genius to blush as she stroked her hair. 

“Did you finish the one you were texting me about?” Lucas asked. “What was it? Weightlifting Fairy Kim Bok-Joo?”

She beamed as her head tilted to the side. “You remembered.”

“Of course, I remember everything you say.” Lucas replied bashfully. 

Riley loved how attentive he was to her and all of her likes and dislikes. She was about to thank him when out of nowhere, Maya made a vomiting noise. A sound she made to indicate too much cute. Riley glared at her little firecracker.

“I wouldn’t knock the show until you watch it, MAYA!”

“Why? I’ve already seen it!”

“You have?!”

“Yeah because THEY’RE ALL THE SAME!” Riley’s excitement deflated as she went on. “The main girl is super clumsy, a little ditsy, but hard working and driven which attracts the aloof, rich, bad boy who secretly has a heart of gold then the second they get together all this crazy stuff happens that makes them break up, but don’t worry! On the very last episode they somehow get back together in time to get married with all their side character friend’s stories resolved in a nice little package called ‘Just One Season’ The end!”

“NO!” Riley snapped! “In this one the girl is super athletic, a little thickheaded, but hard working and driven which attracts the very charismatic and charming flower boy who secretly has a heart of gold thank you very much! And even though I haven’t gotten to the last episode because I stopped on episode 12, I’m still very positive they don’t get married at the end cus their still in college!” 

“Hey!” Topanga called from the counter. “Shouldn’t you kid’s get going it’s already 6:15?”

They looked at their phones then scurried out of the bakery. 

When the film was over they all walked along the sidewalk gushing about the movie and how bummed they were that school was a day a way. They stopped at the playground nearby, hoping that somehow it would do what it did when they were younger and stop time. Farkle and Zay were already geeking out about the board game they started playing with Smackle last December and continued their rant near the monkey bars while Maya and Smackle giggled at their crazy facial expression from the bridge leaving Riley and Lucas the rare opportunity to be alone on the swings.

“You alright?” He asked as he sat next to his favorite little ray of Sunshine.

“Yeah.” She sighed. “Just thinkin’.”

“About how you can’t wait to go home so you can watch Kim Bok-joo and Jung Joon-hyung go on their first date?”

Her gaze flew to his. “You’re watching Weightlifting Fairy?!”

“Well, I remembered you saying you wished someone in our group was into K-drama’s so.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Her eyes began to water. “Lucas-”

“Hey, you were there when no one else would watch Cuddle Bunnies with me. I figure why not have one more thing that’s just between us.”

She felt her spirits lift at the thought of spending more time with her favorite cowboy and began to pump her legs harder. 

“So, how did you like it?!”

“It’s pretty cool!” 

“Really?!” 

“Mmmhmm!” 

“How many episodes in are you?!”

“I finished it yesterday.”

“WHAT?!”

“Yeah.”

She slammed down her feet causing Lucas to do the same. His stomach was now in his foot as Riley’s face drained of all color. Was she getting sick again? Did he take it too far by watching all the episodes? Yes, he originally did it for her, but the show got interesting and he didn’t really have much to do over Spring Break since Zay spent most of it in Texas and Farkle with Smackle! He couldn’t stand not knowing what he did wrong?! Then she turned to him, tears brimming and said, “Did you feel empty inside?”

“What?”

“After you finished the drama? Did you feel empty inside?”

A great relief settled into his chest as he shook his head.

“Really? When I finish a drama I always feel that way. That’s why I tried to take my time with this one because I love it so much.”

“Well, not me and you know why?”

“Because you’re a boy who’s still learning how to express your emotions without feeling emasculated?”

“Um close, but NO!” He laughed. “It’s because I have you.” 

She hid her face in her hands as the heat rose. Why did he always have to be so smooth?! She peeked through her fingers and found his Hazel green eyes still fixed on her. She’d never understand how she became so lucky to have him in her life nor did she care. The Universe, in its wisdom, saw it fit for them to be together now and that’s all she needed to know. 

She began to swing again. “SO! Are there any cute moments I should look out for in episode 12?”

“Ooh! I don’t want to spoil it for you though!”

“Aw come on! Just one!”

He thought about it then got off the swing, signaling her to follow. She willingly complied. When he stopped on the sidewalk, he looked around.

“What are you doing?” She asked, shivering a bit from the cool spring air. 

“Are you cold?”

“What?”

“Are you cold?”

“Well a little, but it’s not too bad.” He gently reached for her hand then slid it into the pocket of his hoodie. She giggled when she realized the reference. 

“'Put my hand in my boyfriend’s pocket.’” She mused as she quoted a line from episode 11.

He nodded as he began to walk, their hands still securely in his hoodie. “Ding! Ding! Ding!”

She nuzzled into his arm, resting her head on his shoulder as she gently rubbing his bicep. “Awww! Now I’m even more excited to watch this episode!”

“Why?”

“Because.” She sighed. “It’ll remind me of this!”

“So, you’ll be thinking of this?” He squeezed her hand.

“Mmhmm!”

A devious smile took over his face as he peeked down at his adorable girlfriend. "Hey, Riley?”

Her head slowly tilted up towards him, revealing a silly grin. “Hm.”

He quickly peeked her on the lips.

“Lucas!” She gasped, her hands flying to her mouth.

“That’s a cute part from ep.13!” He kissed her again, this time on the cheek. “And another from 13!” She went to whack his arm, but he dodged it and kissed her on the lips again. “That one’s from ep.14!”

“Lucas Friar!” She shouted, trying her hardest to sound upset as he skipped around her. “Stop!”

“Only if you catch me!” He replied.

She chased after him in the small open filed, doing her best to fight the smile that so badly wanted to take its rightful place on her face.

“Stay still!” She huffed.

“Okay!”

When she caught up to him she grabbed his face and this time she kissed him. She let go causing him to stumble backwards. Then with a new-found vigor, he threw his hands in the air and bolted down the field, looping back around to scoop up Riley. “FAVORITE MOMENT FROM THE EPISODE OF MY LIFE!” He shouted as he spun her around, the both of them laughing hysterically.

“See, Smackle.” Maya smirked as the two girls watched their friends cheesily frolic in the grass. “No need to watch K-drama’s.”