#there are at least TWO other collies they keep teasing me with

[kangals]

speaking of stellina, she's at a boarding kennel this week while i'm on vacation and the kennel is really good about uploading like 50+ photos a day of their dogs onto social media, and guess ☹️ who hasnt been ☹️ in any of them ☹️

[laurenairay]

Lately you've been on my mind - E. Pettersson

I’m jumping in as a pinch-hitter as part of @wyattjohnston’s winter fic exchange, with an Elias Pettersson story for @typical-simplelove! I really hope you enjoy this Claudia– I had a lot of fun creating something from the prompts you gave me, and I was just so inspired that I wrote it all in one day! And thank you Demi, for being a sounding board for me as I put together my ideas.

Summary: Brock Boeser is the ultimate match maker – he knows he is. And he is determined to set his friends up.

a.k.a. you and Elias are both friends with Brock, and keep finding yourselves in moments alone.

Words: 4.9k

Warnings: idiots to lovers, self-doubt, Brock is a meddler

Title from: Adore you, by Harry Styles

~

2019 was already shaping up to be a fantastic year. The sun was shining brightly, the January air was crisp and cold, and you had Spanish Banks dog park essentially to yourself, seeing that it was excruciatingly early in the morning.

But damn if the views of the North Shore mountains weren’t worth it. Your dog seemed to agree, with the way he was running up and down the sand. You’d lived in Vancouver all your 20 years so far, still living with your parents where you’d decided not to go to university, and it was moments like this that reminded you just how fortunate you were.

Your peace and quiet lasted for all of another half an hour before you heard enthusiastic barking from behind you. Recalling your dog to your side – which only took a couple of attempts, which was an improvement – you turned your head to see what was coming your way, only to freeze at the guy you saw walking towards you.

A guy that was clearly the up-and-coming star of your family’s favourite sports team, the Vancouver Canucks. Brock Boeser, in the flesh.

“Hey, sorry for interrupting your quiet.”

His smile tightened slightly when he realised you clearly knew who he was, with whatever your face was doing, but you quickly shook your head to reassure him. No, he was here just the same as you, to walk his dog. You could be cool with that.

“It’s a beautiful off-leash park – it would be a shame not to share it,” you shrugged, smiling back at him.

Brock immediately relaxed, easy a tension you didn’t realise you had.

“Who’s this beautiful pup, hm?”

“This is Bailey. I’ve had him, like, three months now? He’s only 18 months old so he’s still learning not to jump up, but he tries his best,” you mused.

“He’s perfect…”

Yes, Brock was definitely a dog person.

“…a border collie, right?”

“Yeah that’s right. He was abandoned a few months ago at a shelter my mom volunteers at, and I barely had to beg her to let me adopt him,” you laughed.

Brock just grinned. “Coola was a rescue dog as well. I adopted him back in February last year, after the All Star Game, but he lived in Minnesota with my parents while I finished my rookie year. I know the feeling of not being able to resist a sweet little dog.”

At least he understood.

With a smile, you motioned for Bailey that he was allowed to run again, and within moments Coola was joining him, the two dogs playing in the surf.

“So, you live here then?”

You and Brock walked your dogs for nearly another hour, the two of you talking like you’d known each other all your lives, before Bailey flopped at your feet, a clear sign he was done and ready to leave.

“Looks like that’s my cue,” you said dryly, making Brock laugh.

“Definitely,” he teased, “but hey, maybe we could exchange numbers? I’d love to walk Coola with you and Bailey again, now that I know they’re friends.”

You hesitated slightly, unsure whether he actually meant that, but the earnestness in his eyes told you everything you needed to know.

“Sure, I’d like that. Bailey could use all the friends he could get,” you mused.

Brock just grinned.

“I don’t know, I have a feeling we’re going to be pretty good friends as well.”

~

Nearly five years on and you were (somehow) genuine friends with Brock. He’d been right, against all odds. There was just something about his straightforward friendship that made your life that little bit easier, knowing that you could rely on him to be a breath of fresh air, no drama. And you knew he appreciated your chilled approach to pretty much everything, never judging him, always his biggest supporter – both on the team and for him as a person. Brock Boeser was probably one of the best friends you’d ever had, and you cherished everything about him, like an older brother you didn’t realise you needed.

Brock had always insisted that you needed to be integrated into every part of his life, so you spent more time with his team than you ever thought you would (and hadn’t that been a starstruck moment, when you’d first attended a team gathering). He pretty much brought you to all gatherings, events, and anything to do with Coola (and now Milo), and while at first it had been overwhelming, you’d quickly adjusted when you realised just how ridiculous his teammates were.

So it wasn’t a surprise to Elias Pettersson when he walked into Brock’s house and saw you sitting on the sofa surrounded by dogs.

“Well this looks cosy.”

You grinned at his teasing words, waving him over. “It’s good to see you too, Elias.”

He shared a small private smile with you, lifting Milo’s legs to take a seat on the sofa next to you. The dog in question huffed out his displeasure but didn’t move, allowing Elias to settle in properly.

This guy, more than anyone else, was the teammate you enjoyed spending the most time with alongside Brock. Elias was definitely the most sane of all Brock’s Vancouver friends, and his dry sense of humour always had you in stitches. It was rare that he showed much of himself to anyone, as reserved as he was, but the more you’d gotten to know him over the years, the more you recognised the little signs of his reactions and collated them like hoarded treasure. And the more that Elias had gotten to know you, the more willing he seemed to be to share jokes and smiles and laughter with you, forging a friendship of your own.

And yes, sure, you couldn’t deny that you found him attractive – you’d be crazy or blind to think otherwise - but he’d never shown a hint of interest towards you in that way. And there was no way you’d ever say anything unless you were sure things were reciprocated (there was just no way), so you were more than happy to have him as a friend. Elias Pettersson was an unmistakeable joy in your life, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin that.

He really was so handsome though.

“I’m surprised Brock isn’t buried under puppies like usual,” Elias said.

“We haven’t been long back from walking the dogs, so I said I’d get them settled while he showered and got ready to head out with you,” you explained, running your hand over your Bailey’s head.

“He does need to look pretty enough to leave the house, that’s true,” he mused.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the both of you knowing Brock needed no help in looking pretty, Elias just smiling widely.

It just goes to show how wrapped up you were in Elias’s attention that neither of you noticed Brock standing at the bottom of the stairs, eyes lighting up at your laughter and Elias’s smile.

~

It was early, far too early, but here you were fulfilling Bailey’s every need. You were wrapped up warm, puffer jacket, woollen hat, gloves, and scarf, walking your border collie through Hadden Park, allowing the travel mug of coffee to wake you up fully while you took in the views surrounding you. Bailey was in his element, trotting about and sniffing every single leaf and twig, and it was only your phone buzzing that broke you out of your silent contentment.

From: Brock Hey, are you walking Bailey?

To: Brock Yeah we’re at Hadden Park Wasn’t sure if you would be getting up early after your game last night so I didn’t text

From: Brock Hah yeah fair enough Do you mind if Petey comes along?

You tried not to fantasise about why Elias was so willing to join you both on a dog walk, so early on a day off. You tried so hard.

To: Brock Of course I don’t mind

From: Brock Of course?

You felt heat dancing across your cheeks. Damn it Brock.

To: Brock You know I think Petey is great.

From: Brock Well I definitely do now.

You groaned, already able to picture the smirk on your friend’s face.

To: Brock Don’t be dumb I’ll see you soon

The last thing you needed was Brock teasing you, especially in front of Elias. The last thing you wanted was Elias to feel uncomfortable around you, just because you find him attractive. The last thing you could bear would be if you lost your friendship with Elias just because Brock was reading into things that weren’t true.

But there was nothing you could do for damage control until Brock was in front of you. All you could hope was that he didn’t make you look like an idiot.

It couldn’t have been more than 20 minutes before you saw the familiar pair walking towards you, dogs at Brock’s side, and you found yourself smiling despite your trepidation. You gave them both hugs in greeting, travel mug long empty and placed in your bag, Bailey barking happily.

“What a beautiful morning,” Brock said happily.

“Cold but beautiful, sure,” you mused.

Elias nodded his agreement, thick scarf wrapped in loops around him, Brock just laughing.

“Petey, you don’t mind taking Coola while I walk Milo, do you?” Brock asked.

Elias narrowed his eyes, as if trying to read into Brock’s words, but Brock just kept smiling at him.

“Sure, I can walk Coola,” Elias eventually said.

“Great!”

The moment that Coola’s leash was in Elias’s hands, Coola darted forward, Elias crashing directly into your body. It was only through his quick reflexes that you didn’t end up on your ass, his hands clutching at your hips while you clung to his jacket.

“Coola! Chill!”

Brock’s giggled words did little to calm his dog down, all three dogs dancing around your feet as Elias steadied you. His face was impossibly close to yours, breath practically mingling. How had you not realised how blue his eyes were before this? His lips were parted slightly, as if he was still processing, but it was only when Bailey bumped into both of your legs that he abruptly let you go, and you dropped your hands too.

“Sorry, sorry,” he blurted, stepping away sharply.

“No apologies needed. It wasn’t your fault,” you said, shaking your head with a weak smile.

“Aww you can’t blame Coola for being excited,” Brock grinned, kneeling down to give fuss to both his dogs.

There was something in his smile that you just couldn’t put your finger on. Hm.

“Shall we walk then, if they’re so excited?” Elias said dryly.

All three dogs started barking at the word ‘walk’, making you laugh and nod, Brock just grinning even wider.

~

From: Brock Petey is taking the roadtrip losses really hard. Come over tomorrow?

~

You don’t know what it was that possessed you, but the moment you received those texts from Brock, you knew you had to do something. Elias was such a stoic guy, so reserved in his emotions, so the fact that it was obvious enough he was suffering that Brock asked for your help? There was no way you weren’t going to do everything in your power to ease any tensions they had, especially Elias.

There wasn’t much you could do, but you could do this.

When you arrived at Brock’s house the next morning, you were only mildly startled to see Elias opening the door instead of Brock, his eyes flashing in surprise before he smiled.

“Did Brock not say I was coming over?” you said hesitantly.

The last thing you wanted was to intrude.

“He said we were going for brunch, but this is a welcome surprise,” Elias said, smiling softly.

Oh. Now you felt stupid.

Wait, a welcome surprise?

“I don’t know what is making your face do that, but I’m not lying when I say it’s good to see you,” Elias said firmly.

“Alright, I believe you,” you mused.

Elias just grinned, walking over to the bottom of the staircase.

“SHE’S HERE!”

“GOOD! YOU’RE COMING FOR BRUNCH, RIGHT?”

You rolled your eyes fondly at Brock’s assumptions. It wasn’t like you had much else planned for today, but still!

“YEAH I’LL COME!”

Elias laughed at your matching volume, making you smile back at him, a light flush dusting across your cheeks. His laugh was magical and you weren’t going to shame yourself for liking it.

“Brock’s just finishing his hair and then he’ll be down. That’s what he said anyway,” Elias explained, sitting down on the arm of Brock’s sofa.

“He’s got an image to maintain, can’t be looking anything less than perfect,” you teased, the familiar joke making you smile.

Elias just snickered, shaking his head. You leaned up against the back of the sofa, standing close enough to Elias that the blue of his eyes was almost hypnotising, before you remembered why you came over in the first place.

“It feels a little silly now, but I heard from a little bird that you were taking things a little rough, so here’s a little something,” you said.

“Brock needs to keep his mouth shut,” he grumbled.

You just laughed, reaching into your bag to pull out the gift. But as you placed it in his hands, Elias froze.

“What’s this?” Elias said, eyes wide in shock.

You bit your bottom lip, before letting out a shaky breath. Here goes nothing.

“You were having a bad day. So I made you a hat,” you said simply, trying to keep your voice light and airy.

“You made me a hat? You knitted this?”

Elias stared down in wonder at the soft light blue woollen bundle in his hand, a look of pure astonishment on his face. It was only then that you realised how close it was to the colour of his eyes.

“Uh, yes, I did? I got back into knitting recently, so it’s nothing fancy, but I just wanted to make something to cheer you up?” you said, trying not to cringe at yourself.

“No-one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”

Your lips parted in surprise at his soft words.

“Really?”

“Really really,” Elias nodded.

“I’ve never had a hat made for me either.”

You flinched at the sound of Brock’s voice coming from behind you, Elias immediately scowling over your shoulder.

“Wouldn’t want to cover up your Prince Charming hair,” Elias grumbled, shoving the hat into the pocket of his hoodie.

You didn’t mention the dark blue hat you’d knitted for Brock that was tucked into your bag. Brock pouted as you snickered, slinking into the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone again.

“Look, I know it’s not really my place. And that we’re just friends because of Brock. But these losses were just a bad blip – you’re going to get over them in no time at all, and be back to destroying the other teams like you were born to,”

Elias smiled wryly. “It doesn’t feel like that right now. But thanks.”

You pursed your lips briefly before huffing out a breath. Telling him what you really thought was hardly the most embarrassing thing you’d ever done.

“You make me so proud. You know that, right?”

“What?” Elias frowned.

“You go out there, every single day, and give this team, this city, your all. Your pour yourself into everything that you do, always give 100%, and as your friend, as someone who has known you for years…I am so proud of you.”

As your cheeks heated from your words, Elias swallowed heavily, a flush dusting across his own cheeks.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve this, to deserve your kind words, but I appreciate it. Thank you,” he murmured.

Your heartbeat raced at the intensity in his eyes.

“Brunch? Can we go?”

Elias scowled again at Brock’s grinning interruption but walked away towards the front door. You were read to grumble at Brock yourself, until you saw Elias pull the knitted hat out of his pocket and slide it on over his hair. It looked…perfect.

“Are you good?” Brock asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah, I’m great.”

Your voice was far breathier than you would ever admit.

*

Another month, another team event. This time Brock had invited you to be his plus one to a formal gala, hardly the first time he had asked and yet this time he practically begged you to come along. You didn’t need him to beg, you could admit that much – the events were always fun and hey, you got to dress up nicely – but his behaviour was strange, even for him.

Either way, Brock had looked ecstatic when you said yes, even going as buying you a gorgeous midnight blue evening gown, sleeveless and high-necked, as classy as it was beautiful, so you were going to complain. He could have his secrets – you knew you’d get it out of him eventually.

He picked you up after you’d gotten your hair and nails done, make-up subtle but elegant, wide smile on his face as he drove the two of you to the event. You didn’t have time to be suspicious about his good mood as the two of you greeted his teammates and their better halves, your attention consumed by all the cheek kisses and compliments, but you should’ve known he was up to something. Because the moment that the two of you joined Elias at a table with a few chairs around it, Brock all but disappeared, leaving the two of you completely alone.

“Hi Brock. Bye Brock,” Elias said dryly.

“I have no idea what’s gotten into him tonight, I am so sorry,” you sighed.

“Hey, no, don’t apologise for him. I’m sorry that he’s abandoned you already,” Elias said, frowning.

“Well at least I’m near a chair,” you said, huffing out a laugh, “High heels are not my friends.”

Elias immediately pulled a chair out for you to sit on, and you felt a gentle heat brush across your cheeks at the gentlemanly action.

“Thanks Elias,” you said, more shocked than anything.

Not too shocked to smile at him as he sat down right next to you, after picking up a couple of flutes of champagne from a passing waiter. If he wanted to join you…well, you weren’t going to complain. Not if you got his attention all to yourself.

It can’t have been more than an hour before Brock wandered back over, but by the flush on his cheeks and the glassiness of his eyes, he was more than a little tipsy. Damn it Brock.

“You’re not going to ask this beautiful woman to dance, Petey?”

Elias immediately blushed furiously, eyes narrowing at his friend, making you want to die a little inside – but also to shield him.

“Oh no, these heels are killing my feet already. Elias is just being kind enough to keep me company,” you said sweetly.

Brock snickered, shaking his head, but walked away without any further pestering. You both sat there for a moment in silence, reeling from the short conversation. What the hell was that, Brock?

“You didn’t have to make up a lie to defend me,” Elias said, finally looking at you again.

“I wanted to.”

The mortification that filled your body upon your blurted words was immediate and all-consuming, especially with how surprised Elias looked. How could you save this? How the hell could you save this?

“Besides it’s the least I could do for Brock dumping me on you in the first place,” you said coolly, shrugging, trying to calm yourself down and failing miserably.

Elias hesitated before something flashed across his face, and he looked at you with an expression you’d never seen from him before. It made you shiver. “There’s nowhere else I’d rather be.”

Oh.

Oh.

He…really?

You’d spent so long convinced that he didn’t see you that way, that he wasn’t attracted to you in the slightest, and now that he’d said this? Giving you enough to let yourself hope, to admit to yourself that your sweetest daydreams and deepest fantasies could actually be reality?

While your mind raced, full of swirling realisations that perhaps things weren’t so unrequited after all, Elias just watched you, expression just as intense as before. It wasn’t until you let out a shaky breath, smiling a tiny smile at him, that he nodded, clearing his throat.

“Another drink?”

“Yes, definitely.”

*

Movie nights were sacred. It didn’t matter who they were with, not really, but now that you had your own tiny apartment, a night in watching your favourite movies and eating your favourite snacks was always the best way to unwind. Usually Brock was your only companion, or Brock with a few of his teammates, and that was the plan tonight. Brock and Elias were both joining you for a movie night and you couldn’t wait to have a chilled night in with two of your favourite people. Even if your whole world had been shaken up only last week at that eventful team gala.

The pizzas you’d ordered hadn’t long arrived before Elias arrived at your door, beers in hand, and you let him in with a happy smile.

“Thanks for inviting me,” he said, smiling shyly back at you.

Your breath caught in your throat at the sweetness in his face, and you found yourself just nodding.

“You know you’re always welcome. Come on, pizza just got here too.”

Elias all but raced you to the kitchen, making you laugh as he opened the cardboard lids. But your phone buzzed before you could reach for a slice.

From: Brock I can’t make it tonight. Have fun. Both of you.

You heart started racing at his implications, knowing deep in your bones that Brock never intended to come this evening. Had he known all along, how you felt about Elias? And how you hoped Elias felt for you too?

Surely not.

But then again, Brock always surprised you. You had always tried not to underestimate your friend, but it appeared that you’d fallen for that sweet innocent smile just the same as everyone else.

“Is Brock on his way?”

“Brock isn’t coming.”

“Oh.”

Elias seemed to hesitate, making you inhale sharply.

“Did you want to reschedule?” he asked, wincing.

You could be brave, right? Or at least take a step towards bravery?

“You’re already here…so we can still have our own movie night?” you suggested, unable to stop yourself from chewing your bottom lip.

Elias’s eyes flickered down quickly towards your mouth, before he cleared his throat and smiled softly at you. “Yeah, of course we can. Also means we don’t have to listen to Brock whining that we aren’t watching one of his rom com choices.”

The dryness of his tone made you giggle, immediately cutting through the lingering awkward tension. You could absolutely do a movie night just with Elias. You could absolutely handle being alone with him like this.

Absolutely.

The two of you ploughed through the pizzas while you watched one of you go-to action movies, laughing and talking all the way through, even finishing the popcorn and a couple of beers each by the time the credits were rolling. Bailey had happily sat by your feet the whole time, actually behaving himself for once, and you couldn’t remember a time when you’d felt so content. So relaxed and happy. Brock had always brought that out in you, and now that Elias had too? It just filled you with butterflies in the best way.

“Shall we watch another?”

“Definitely,” you nodded, smiling up at him.

Elias smiled easily back. “You choose? I’ll clear up.”

Before you could protest or even help him, Elias had picked up both pizza boxes and all the empty beer bottles, leaving you alone on the sofa. You heard him opening the trash can, snapping you out of your surprise, so you started scrolling through Netflix again, eventually deciding on a light-hearted comedy just as Elias re-entered the room. Bailey had trotted out to his own bed when Elias left, so it really was just the two of you now.

Something that made your breath hitch in your throat was the way that Elias sat down closer to you this time. Unmistakably closer, close enough to feel the heat from his body and to smell his cologne. He did that on purpose, there was no doubt about it. But his face gave you no answers, nothing more than his usual smile around you, so you let it go. Overthinking things was definitely not the way to go, you knew that much.

It didn’t make your heartrate calm down at all though.

You pressed play to get the movie started, lightly tossing the tv remote onto your coffee table before settling back into the sofa, letting the familiar introduction wash over you.

It took ten minutes for everything to change.

Elias wasn’t a big hugger. You knew this. Brock knew this. The whole of the Vancouver Canucks knew this. So when you felt a pressure along your shoulders, you tried not to flinch, realising it was his arm stretching across the back of the sofa when his hand lightly brushed your opposite shoulder. Elias…Elias had put his arm around you. He’d put his arm around you? You glanced up at him, trying to get any sense of his thought process, but his eyes were resolutely glued to the television, his body a frozen line of tension. All over again, your heart started racing. You were right after all. Maybe…maybe Elias really did have feelings for you, just as he’d finally hinted at the team event, and now he was making a gentle move in the most Petey way ever.

The ball was in your court.

Ever so slowly, you relaxed against under his arm, sinking into his side, head resting on his chest. You could hear just how fast his own heart was racing and it made you smile, feeling giddy that he was just as affected as you were, even more so when his arm draped around you properly. This was really happening. Elias Pettersson had really instigated snuggling with you on the sofa. This was better than any dream you could’ve imagined.

The next thing you knew, you were blinking your eyes open. The sky outside was pitch black, the curtains still wide open, and the Netflix landing page was glaring bright. But the main thing you noticed? You were curled up against Elias’s side still, head resting on his chest, his arm having fallen down to your waist and his head lolling back on the sofa. You’d fallen asleep together? Was there anything more cliché than that? Still, it felt like your heart was going to beat out of your chest with how right it felt to be in Elias’s hold. His hands were so large and so warm, the heat spreading through the contact on top of your sweatpants. His chest was so solid and calming under your cheek. And as you lifted your head, ever to slightly to look at him properly, even just through the light from the TV he looked so handsome. Beautiful and peaceful. But there was no way that could be comfortable for him, and the last thing you wanted was for an aching neck to put a damper on what was the perfect evening.

So you lightly rested your hand on his chest, shaking him gently until you heard him grunt in displeasure.

“Hey, Elias, we fell asleep on the sofa,” you murmured.

He immediately groaned, making you laugh softly, smiling at him as he finally lifted his head.

“I was having such a good dream,” he grumbled.

Then he seemed to freeze as he realised where he actually was, taking note of how you were still tucked into his side, and where his arm and hand were holding you.

“Damn it, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“Hey, no, we both fell asleep eh?” you said, interrupting with a smile and a shake of your head, “It’s fine, Elias. We were both cosy.”

He swallowed heavily before nodding.

“I don’t think I’ve ever fallen asleep on the sofa with someone before,” he mumbled, “It was…nice.”

You felt your cheeks heating up with the gentle compliment, your smile letting him know you felt the same.

“I should go,” he said softly.

No!

Well, now was your moment. Now was the time to be brave where you’d never needed to be so brave before. After everything that had been building between the two of you…now was the moment.

“Or, maybe you could stay, and we could talk in the morning,” you offered as calmly as you could.

You felt Elias inhale sharply where your hand was still resting on his chest.

“The kind of talk that I’ve been wanting to have for a while?” he asked, hope evident in his eyes.

Oh wow.

For a while?

You felt like you were floating as his words sunk in.

“Yeah I think we’re on the same page,” you murmured, your blood thrumming with possibility.

The smile that spread across Elias’s face made your heart soar, and you found yourself smiling just as widely back. And when he leant forward to press a soft kiss to your forehead, you’d never felt more alive.

You could only imagine Brock’s satisfied grin when you told him.

[dreamescapeswriting]

BTS Reaction || You’re Really Smart

A/N: As someone who has a REALLY low IQ I decided to try and change it to you’re really smart, I hope that’s okay? If no one gets the lyric reference in Namjoon’s I might cry…

Seokjin:

Namjoon had the great idea of taking everyone to an escape room for the day and here you were paired up with Jin, Taehyung and Jimin who were all walking around aimlessly as they tried to figure out the room. Namjoon had told you to go with them while he went with Jungkook and Yoongi you figured it would be a breeze and for you it was. You'd already figured out the clues but kept your mouth shut cause the boys were too busy trying to come up with it.

"Guys?" You asked looking up from the floor to meet Jin who looked like he was ready to swear at his kids, Jimin who looked about ready to cry and Taehyung who was staying calm throughout.

"Why did we do a horror escape room, I hate this," Jin said to you, you smiled at him and then whispered in his ear the answer to getting out, at least into the next room.

"How long have you known this?" You shrugged your shoulders, to you it seemed simple but according to the boys it was almost impossible for them to even see how to put any of the clues together.

(X)

You all made it out of the horror escape room in record time and Jin was throwing his arms around you,

"And this is why she's the best girlfriend." He yelled kissing your cheeks and then laughing as you pushed him away, dramatically wiping your cheeks where he'd kissed you.

"You guys cheated, she has a high IQ," Yoongi mumbled you stared at him with an eyebrow raised,

"Namjoon has a high IQ though..." Namjoon stared at you and then over at the boys who were expecting an explanation.

"Just because someone has a high IQ doesn't mean their massively smart." You told them and then Namjoon agreed with you. Both of you going into a long rant about how IQ tests are measured in different ways and not everyone has a good IQ because their minds are stronger in other ways.

Yoongi:

"Yoongi can we go back to the hotel I'm tired." You yawned to Yoongi as you walked around the streets, he'd brought you along to Amsterdam with him on tour and was trying to get some sightseeing done but you'd been up all night researching for a paper.

"Maybe if you didn't stay up all night there wouldn't be a problem." He chuckled, tapping your cheeks in an attempt to wake you up. You both walked over to a small cafe and ordered a coffee, where you stood at a table and leant your head on your hands. Eyes closed as Yoongi flipped through a tour guide book trying to find his next spot.

"This will wake you up, explain string theory to me since that's what you were researching." You nodded and thought over how you were going to explain it to him,

"It's a theoretical framework in which the point-like particles of particle physics are then replaced by one-dimensional objects, strings. The theory describes how the strings propagate through space and interact with each other...String theory is a theory of quantum gravity." He stared at you from across the table, you hadn't even opened your eyes to explain it.

"That was as if it was just stored in the back of your mind...How did you do that?" You shrugged your shoulders and opened your eyes, Yoongi was starting to look uncomfortable.

"What?" You mumbled standing up straight as he pulled you back in the direction of the car he'd rented.

"Going back to the hotel."

"To sleep?!"

"No." He smirked grabbing your hand and pulling you faster through the crowds of people so he could get to the hotel as quickly as possible with you. He'd always loved how smart you were and hearing you talk about something like String theory as if it was common knowledge made him want you more.

Hoseok:

For as long as you could remember you'd had a fascination for true crime and all things like that, your brain seemed to store all of the facts about that and not much else.

"We should enter a quiz." Jungkook said as you walked into the pub in Malta, you looked up from your phone and nodded in agreement, turning to look at Hoseok who was nodding as well,

"It'll be fun." You giggled pulling Hoseok over to a table and getting the team name ready.

"It's all based on common knowledge by the looks of it," Jungkook said as you and Hoseok giggled from across the table. You'd been dating for three years and you were still just as happy as the day he asked you out.

(X)

It was the last round and so far you were doing well for points but the last round was on true crime, Hoseok looked at you and nodded. He was the only one out of all of the boys that knew about your extensive knowledge of serial killers.

"Who knows this?" Jungkook asked in confusion, you took the paper from his hand.

"Types of a killer? Easy, organised, disorganised, and mixed." Jungkook stared at you,

"How many people did Harold Shipman kill?" Jungkook read out the next question while Hoseok watched as you answered it without blinking.

"200 but that's only ones that have been confirmed, there are a lot around him that are labelled suspicious."

You won the quiz but on the way back to the hotel Hoseok had his arm linked around your waist and Jungkook asked for facts about other serial killers,

"Ted Bundy had a collie called Lassie." You yawned as the door to your hotel was pushed open, Jungkook was wide awake and wanted to know more though. Asking question after question while Hoseok walked you into the bedroom,

"Talk about it in the morning Kookie, I'm sleepy." You whined dropping onto the bed, Hoseok following you and smiling at how brilliant his girlfriend was

Namjoon:

Namjoon had fallen in love the moment you opened your mouth to talk to him. You were both walking around a museum together, your brother had Jimin decided to bring you along and now you were alone with Namjoon, both walking in uncomfortable silence until you both got excited over the same painting. You began listing of facts about the painting and artist and Namjoon just stared as you spoke about it, and then watched as you did the same with the next painting. Now, whenever you went out on dates he found himself learning more from you than he did from the small plaques on the walls beside the paintings.

"Where do you store it all?" Taehyung asked one day while you were out with Namjoon, hands locked together as you strolled through the Natural History Museum. It turned out your facts didn't stop with art, it included History and other subjects.

"I don't know, I think my brain is like a sponge and it just soaks it all up." You giggled, Namjoon smirked and span you around under his arm,

"I don't care where it comes from, your sexy mind is my favourite." He whispered in your ear, kissing your cheek as you giggled trying to push him away. When he first met you he'd never seen the need for public displays of affection but there was just something about you, something that made him want to show everyone that you were his and he was proud of you.

"I love you." He whispered to you as Taehyung wandered off, you'd only been dating for two months but he knew it was real.

"I love you too." You whispered back to him with a smile on your face, rushing off to find Tae.

Jimin:

Much like Namjoon when he first started out in the industry, you and your group were featured on a lot of different quiz shows because you were smart.

"Next we have Jimin and Namjoon from BTS and Y/N and Lucia from H.E.A.R.T." The producer said into the camera and all of you went to introduce yourself to each other and to the cameras.

(X)

The show had gone amazingly and the whole time Jimin couldn't keep his eyes off you, he found himself watching the way you worked. How whenever there was a question partially hard you would push your glasses further onto your nose, or throw your hair into a ponytail. He was teased by the host and Namjoon for staring of course, and it only made you blush whenever you felt his eyes on you and you looked up to see him staring at you.

"Where did you learn to memorise all this stuff?" He asked when you were all standing in a changing room together,

"I don't know, I guess I've just always stored it away." You laughed looking over at Namjoon who was with your band member, talking about songs you should all work on together.

"It's so hot." Your breath hitched in your throat from how outspoken he was and you blushed a bright red colour,

"I think you're hot too." You giggled, looking at the floor as you bit down on your lip trying not to come across as too eager for him but he was now blushing.

"We should hang out sometime...Without all the quizzes, maybe get some food? Or if you're too busy maybe just a drink." You tried to hold back the small laugh and nodded, touching the top of his arm to stop him from ranting.

"I'd love that Jimin, call me sometime." You told him, writing down your number on his hand and then walking out of the changing room with your band member.

Taehyung:

Taehyung knew about your extensive knowledge of Shakespeare and used it whenever he could, right now you were sitting in the dorms with him and the rest of the boys talking about old English, Tae was in a debate with Jungkook over Charles Dickens and Shakespeare.

"Look all I'm saying is Y/n can tell you different Sonnets by heart and then the meaning behind it." You looked up from your noodles and stared at Jungkook who was staring at you, Namjoon looking up from his book to hear the argument between you all.

"Sonnet 130?" Namjoon said, closing his book. Taehyung turned to look at you and you swallowed the noodles that were half hanging out of your mouth.

"My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun; Coral is far more red than her lips' red; If snow be white, why then her breasts are dun;

If hairs be wires, black wires grow on her head. I have seen roses damasked, red and white, But no such roses see I in her cheeks;

And in some perfumes is there more delight Than in the breath that from my mistress reeks. I love to hear her speak, yet well I know

That music hath a far more pleasing sound; I grant I never saw a goddess go; My mistress, when she walks, treads on the ground. And yet, by heaven, I think my love as rar. As any she belied with false compare." Namjoon blinked at you and Tae had a giant smile across his face.

"Meaning?" Yoongi questioned finding himself more invested in the conversation now you'd said a Sonnet without blinking or looking it up.

"Okay so for the shortened version it's offering the readers a different look at female beauty and what it's like to love someone with all their shortcomings and for what they don't like." You explained, going back to your food and turning to look at the TV while Tae was sitting there with a smile on his face, arm wrapped around your shoulder.

Jungkook:

You were standing in the kitchen making yourself a cup of tea when you heard Jungkook scream, you thought he'd just died in a game at first but then you heard him rushing around the living room,

"Kookie?" You questioned walking into the room to see him on his phone, you looked at the desk and his computer screen was black,

"I was in the middle of a game!" He yelled, clearly stressed out over the fact that his computer was potentially broken, he began taking it apart to see what was going on with it and then stressed even more because he couldn't figure out what was going on.

"Let me." You said throwing away the apple core and walking over, you put your glasses on and bent down on the floor.

"Wait here," You walked off upstairs and he waited for you as he looked for a new PC online but you knew he didn't need to do that, you searched through the boxes until you found it and then came bounding down the stairs carrying the power supply, taking his out and replacing it, connecting everything up to the correct holes and making sure the motherboard was linked up properly. Booting up the PC and watching as Jungkook's mouth fell open as he watched you doing it.

"What?" You questioned putting the side back onto his PC and putting it back on the desk and brushing off your hands.

"How did you know to do that?" You shrugged your shoulders and walked back into the kitchen with Jungkook asking you question after question.

tagline: 

@babymochichimmy @ficdump101 @yoongisdumplingcheeks @snowy-meowl @lynnthevirgo @yourguessisasgoodasminemate @kpopfanfictionhoes @lyoongx @rjsmochii @mitzwinchester @callingmyangel​

[doyelikehaggis]

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scanny | Scott McCall x Danny Mahealani (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @childofsquidward

The collie laying on the table is patient and docile as Scott finishes slotting the cone into place around her neck. She just stares up at him with big eyes, nudging against his hand with her nose.

Laughing, Scott rubs her head. Her tail gives a little wiggle in response.

"You know, you're the only one I've seen who isn't bothered by this thing," he tells her, scratching behind her ear. 

She just gives a playful yip in response. 

The bell rings over the front door, alerting Scott to someone entering the animal clinic. Somewhat pointless considering he heard the heartbeat first. But Lola's ears immediately perk up, and her tail bangs against the table.

Scott grins at Danny when he appears in the doorway, holding two festive coffee cups.

"You've been missed," he says.

Lola's already standing on the table, barking fondly at Danny. He laughs, and moves towards her, fuelling her excitement.

"By which one of you?" Danny jokes.

Scott's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, but he falters, and Danny's already focused on Lola again anyway. Heat rushes to his face. He quickly tries to regain some composure. 

"Hey, girl! Oh, you look so good!" Danny coos. "Did Dr. McCall take good care of you?"

Scott tries to bite back a smile and fails. He's getting used to hearing his friends call him Dr. McCall, more as a joke, but something about the way Danny says it gives him this fluttering in his chest.

So, when he first saw him at the start of December, it was a surprise. He'd practically disappeared off the face of the earth for two years, and then suddenly he was back in town for the holidays, to see his family and friends. 

But not only that, Scott hadn't quite realized just how attractive Danny is. Was he always that good-looking while they were at school together? Of course he was, everyone knew it. But Scott hadn't exactly been out to himself at that point, so seeing Danny back from New Orleans, even more tanned, with even more defined muscles—yeah, Scott might get a little nervous whenever he sees him now.

And it doesn't help that they seem to be seeing more of each other now than they did while at school. They run into each other in town. When Scott went back to fill in for Coach while he was away towards the end of the year, Danny just kept showing up, saying he was visiting a teacher to discuss something (he is, after all, in computer programming now, so it makes some semblance of sense), and they'd talk out on the field. He bmped into him while bringing his mom lunch at the hospital. 

Scott even saw him while out with Lydia two weeks ago. He was catching up with Jackson, who was also back in town for the holidays, like everyone else. 

And now at work, too. The universe seems to be playing some joke on him. He doesn't mind all that much, for once. As long as this isn't going to lead to him finding out that Danny's actually been turned into a vampire, or has been possessed by some new, evil spirit.

"Thank you," Danny says, lifting his eyes to Scott. Of course, Scott's still the one looking up at him, because it would appear Danny has had another growth spurt as well as everything else. 

Scott realizes he isn't answering. Just gazing. He grins, and hastily tries to not be totally obvious.

"Just doing my job," he says with a shrug. 

Danny rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but I know for a fact that this clinic should have been shut for the rest of the holidays. So, thank you for seeing her anyway."

Scott hesitates at that. "Well… you're a friend. And I had to come in today anyway. And—" he looks down at Lola, who's settled back down on the table, and gives her head another rub "—I couldn't just leave this one stranded on Christmas Eve."

"We both thank you, then." Danny then holds out one of the coffee cups. "A gesture to prove it."

"God, thank you," Scott says, gratefully accepting the cup and taking a drink. "I haven't had anything all day. Or since last night. Including sleep. I might be running on three Mountain Dews and a kitkat."

Danny raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "That… can't be good for you."

Scott just shrugs again. He'll probably feel the effects later on today, since it's currently only one-thirty in the afternoon. As long as he makes it to four to head to the station to see Stiles, then he can head back home and have a nap. And maybe food.

"I didn't know the life of a vet was so demanding."

"It's the holidays," Scott explains, taking another drink before continuing. The gingerbread-cinnamon-whatever is in this latte is the best thing he's ever had right now. "Lots of people want their pets better before Christmas and New Year. A lot of strays get found with bad injuries. Currently I have—"

Barking starts up from the dog room in the back. Scott smiles, gesturing towards the door as Lola once again perks up.

"—them. Eight labrador puppies. They're under a year old. Deaton and I were trying to get them rehomed before the holidays, but it didn't work out. That's why I was coming in to work anyway, since Deaton's out of town."

"Never mind, your job is clearly far more demanding than I thought." Danny smiles, glances down at Lola, then pauses. "Do you need a hand with them at all? They sound pretty eager for attention."

"Yeah, I was gonna take them out for a walk once I was finished up here," Scott says.

Danny's grin widens. "You planned to walk eight hyperactive labrador puppies by yourself? In the snow?"

Scott just gives another shrug. "They're not too hard to handle once they're outside."

The look Danny is giving him only intensifies the fluttery feeling in his chest. It's like something's tickling him from the inside. He can feel the heat beneath his skin, in his cheeks.

"Guess that whole Alpha thing really does give you an advantage, huh," Danny says, a certain teasing twinkle in his eyes but his grin sincere.

Scott has barely gotten used to the idea of Danny knowing about the supernatural at all, never mind him making casual comments about it. And especially not while he's looking at him like that.

"I don't know if it's anything to do with that," Scott says, shaking his head. "But… sometimes, yeah. It comes in handy."

Danny nods. The puppies are still barking in the back, trying to get Scott's attention.

"Well, I think Lola could use a walk after being so good about this," Danny says. He looks at Scott, smiling. "Mind if we join you? I can be pretty good with dogs, might help to take a couple off your hands for an hour."

Scott's eyebrows raise in surprise, and his heartbeat raises itself as well. 

"You… but—" he frowns, his head tilting with a confused smile "—it's Christmas Eve. Don't you wanna get back to your family?"

"They won't miss me for a little while," Danny says, brushing it off. Then, because he seems to be catching on, he rolls his eyes, and says, "Please? You helped me with Lola when you clearly already had your hands full. I wanna do more than get you coffee."

Scott's heart drops into his stomach and lurches right back up. He swallows, and tries to keep his mind on one track, biting his lip. 

"Uh… yeah," he breathes out before he can think twice. "You know what? That would be great. Thank you."

"No problem," Danny says, sincerely.

They get Lola to hop off the table, and head into the back room to get the others ready. Danny just laughs when he sees the little christmas hats Scott put on the ones that were happy to wear them.

As they're getting them all on their leashes, Danny casually adds, with a glance at Scott, "And if you were up for it, I'd like to get coffee with you sometime."

Scott accidentally clips the leash to his hand instead of the collar. He winces, quickly undoing it and fixing it to its right place instead. Then he looks over at Danny and his amused grin, his heart racing.

"Like—like a date?" he asks, hardly daring to believe that's what he means. Danny was never interested in him. Was he? 

Scott's quickly going through every interaction he's ever had with him.

"Exactly a date," Danny corrects. 

Scott's eyes are wide. His mouth opens, then closes. He wasn't prepared for this. Sure, the thought of Danny liking him back crosses his mind after Stiles and Lydia both insisted that he did after he told them about running into him all those times. But that doesn't mean he was prepared for it.

"You can say no," Danny says, giving another casual shrug as clips the last lead on to the last excited puppy. "I just thought I might as well ask. Waiting three years to do it was bad enough, I didn't want to seem totally pathetic by waiting four to at least know what you'd say."

"Three—what?" Scott asks in disbelief, sure that he must have somehow misheard. "You've wanted to ask me out for… three years?" 

"Like I said, it was starting to seem pathetic." Danny looks at him, holding his stare with a soft gaze. "But, Lydia told me that you came out last year, and after seeing you, I figured I should at least ask."

"Wow. Uh…" Scott's mind is a mess, and he can't sort his thoughts out. Except for one. "I'd love to."

Danny blinks, thrown off his own guard now. Apparently even he wasn't prepared. But he quickly recovers, as does Scott, smiles forming across both their faces.

"Go on a date with you, I mean," Scott says, as if it needs further elaboration. 

"Really?" Danny asks. "Uh… today?"

Scott's breath is knocked out of him, but he's already nodding again. "Yeah, absolutely."

He didn't think anything could make the fluttery feeling in his chest worse. Turns out, Danny smiling at him like he is right now is the thing that can. 

"Okay, great," he says. "Then let's get these guys out of here."

Scott happily agrees. They head out of the back door after making sure the front is locked up. It has to be an hour or more that passes as they walk the dogs through town, taking an open path into the woods, through the snow. The whole way, Scott and Danny are talking, and laughing, catching up on the years they missed and in between. 

[cenestpasmoi-bechloe]

Wherever you may go, wherever you may be, I will never be far away

Beca has been exhausted with work and overtime in order to provide nice things for Chloe, and pay the bills, etc. When Beca comes home at around 11pm, she finds Chloe curled up on the couch after attempting to wait for Beca. Beca becomes very very soft. :)

Title from Billy Joel's Lullabye (Goodnight My Angel).

Thank you to the anonymous donor for participating in the Pitch Perfect Fandom Drive! This fic is gifted from anon to @green-eyed-weirdo on Tumblr.

Thank you for contributing! Also, happy belated birthday to @green-eyed-weirdo !

I hope you enjoy it and I apologize for taking so long!!

For more info on how to help, visit the @ppfandomdrive page.

Read on Ao3

Beca is exhausted. She’s been working her ass off at Capital records, trying to make a name for herself, and to provide for her small family of three.

Her girlfriend Chloe, herself, and their newest addition, their rescue puppy they had named Chase, because of how he had chased Beca around the first time she saw him. He was a mix of a Collie and something else they couldn’t figure out, but he was the cutest dog ever. At least that was what Chloe had said, and Beca had come to understand it.

But she would never admit that to Chloe. But that dog was damn adorable.

They live in a nice 2 bedroom apartment in Pomona, CA where Chloe can go to Vet school, at Western University of Health Sciences, and Beca can commute to her office.  Chloe has two more years of school, and she’s going to become a Vet after that, but while she goes to school, Beca is the main source of income. They weren’t broke, but they weren’t rich either, and they tried their best to keep it that way. Chloe worked at a Veterinary Clinic near the school, and helped pay the apartment rent. Although Beca had insisted that she didn’t have to, Chloe had somehow convinced her. And Beca couldn't say no to Chloe Beale.  

They had started dating after the USO tour, after Beca had gotten signed to Capitol, and Chloe had been accepted into WesternU, when Beca finally decided to sack up and tell the ginger her feelings.

Their move to California was scheduled around the same time, and having lived in Brooklyn together before, and having started dating, they had mutually decided that moving-in together was a good idea. Her workplace was not too far from where Chloe was going to go to school, and it being cheaper to live in a bigger apartment in Pomona than being crammed in a small apartment in Hollywood, they had chose to live near WesternU. They had started out living in different rooms at first, but found themselves sleeping better, and much more comfortable together in Beca’s room, and they had transferred Chloes old room into a guest room/Beca’s studio when she needed to work from home, or she wanted to work from home.

Beca usually has work with her clients until 7pm, then edit and work on other things until around 10 and then finally, head home. The drive was about 30 minutes, 45 minutes tops, and she would get home at around 11. She had her days off on Wednesdays, and Saturdays and Sundays were half days, or she would sometimes have the weekends off. She always tried to spend more time with Chloe, and she tried to keep a no-work-at-home policy although there were exceptions. That was easy since she had a girlfriend who she could barely say no to.

Tonight was one of those late nights.

The wifi stopped working, and then there was the printer jamming incident, and then had to make sure her emails were sent to her boss about the new client. She finishes up around a quarter to 11, and she gets in her car, sending a quick text to Chloe, telling her that she’d be heading home now. She doubted that she was still awake though since when she gets home at 10:30, she’s usually getting ready for bed, and on days like this, she’s usually fast asleep on Beca’s side of the bed. She drives home, and gets home at about a quarter past 11.

She unlocks the door quietly, and then opens the door slowly, making sure she doesn’t wake up Chloe, who is probably in another room. She just wanted to be safe, just in case. And then Chase comes trotting over to the door, welcoming her home.

“Shhhh… don’t wake mommy up okay?” She says as she crouches down to pet the puppy.

She sees that the light is still on in the room and looks up, seeing her girlfriend curled up on the couch, asleep.

She’s wearing Beca’s gray Bellas sweater, the one that was originally Chloe’s, she stole it somewhere around her sophomore year when she started living in the Bellas house. She had declared that it was hers now, and Chloe had allowed her to keep it all through the years, and now, Chloe’s back to wearing it again. She smiles, walks to the couch, and sits on the floor to kiss the ginger’s cheek.

“I’m home baby.” She says cupping her cheek and kissing her on the lips.

Chloe flutters open her eyes, and wakes up, looking sleepy as heck as she looks at Beca. “I was waiting for you to come home. “She yawns and stretches, rubbing her sleepy eyes.

“Sorry I’m late. I was supposed to leave earlier, but a lot of things happened, I can explain tomorrow. “ She smiles and pecks Chloe’s forehead.

“It’s okay. Did you have dinner?” The ginger asks her as she sits up and stretches her arms.

“No. But I’m not that hungry though.”

“Becaaaaa…. you have to eattttt…”Chloe says to her as she gets up. “I have some leftovers I can heat up.”

“No it’s fine. I’m fine. I’m gonna take Chase out before I get ready for bed. Wait for me in bed?” She asks the ginger, getting up and leaving her bag and taking her jacket off, leaving it on the couch. “Chase. Let’s go out. Bathroom time. “ She says to the dog and he runs to the door excitedly.

“Okay fineee, but I’m coming with you two. I don’t wanna be left behind.” She says with a pouty face as she grabs the leash off the hook.

“Okay then, let’s go.” She takes the leash from the ginger, and connects it to Chase’s collar. “Mommy’s coming with us too.”She smiles, holding onto the leash. Chase jumps up and down excitedly, “I know bud, I’m happy that she’s coming with us too.”She says to the pup and pats him on the head.

“Let’s go!” The redhead returns to the living room, and they both walk out the door, letting Chase mark his territory around the complex, while Chloe and Beca talk about their day, holding hands and walking together.

“Jill keeps texting her boyfriend at work, and she’s always on her phone. I don’t understand how she still has a job.”Beca giggles as she talks about her day.

“I’m sure you’re like that sometimes, I swear, sometimes my phone doesn’t stop vibrating with texts from you.”The redhead jokes, holding Beca’s spare hand which isn’t holding Chase’s leash. The summer breeze makes it a bit chilly, and Chloes glad that she wore her hoodie.

“Oh, I’m not that bad!” Beca exclaims in her quiet nighttime voice, “But I also can’t resist my girlfriend sending me sexy snaps in the middle of the day.”She smirks, squeezing the gingers hand for a moment. Beca had to make sure she had set her notifications to be private, she had that one incident when she almost showed her girlfriend on Airplay at a work meeting. From then on, she knew to keep her notifications discreet. She didn’t need anyone seeing her messages. “I swear to god I almost died when I accidentally opened my Snapchat from you during a meeting. I made it just in time but that was so dangerous.”

“That was because you sent me a raunchy text baby. It’s all your fault. “Chloe scoffs.

“I could’ve been fired!” She whisper yells, raising both her occupied arms up.

“Oh stop exaggerating!”The ginger laughs.

"Oh I'm totally getting back at you for that time!"She jokingly says, pointing at Chloe. "I'm gonna do something to make you so horny that you'll have to take a break, no take the day off!"

"Oh, try. You'll never be able to do that. Remember who always loses the no touching challenge?"

"..um... you?..."

"Oh you wish."Chloe giggles, kissing her nose and running ahead of them. "You can't catch me!!"

"H-Hey!! Chloooooo!"Beca follows along with Chase, but it looks like Chase is taking poor Beca on a run.

“Hey Bec?” Chloe says as they make their way back into the house, unhooking Chase’s leash off of him and letting him run inside.

“Huh?”Beca looks at the ginger, closing the door behind and then making sure it’s locked.

“I love you.”She says, her smile soft and genuine.

These are the moments that make Beca’s heart pound like crazy. Like how did she deserve this angel? How? “I love you too.” She repeats back, kissing the ginger and wrapping her arms around her. “What did I ever do to deserve you?”she mumbles into Chloes shoulder as they awkwardly toddle over to the couch and fall onto it.

“Everything Bec. You’re amazing. I wonder if I ever deserve you. You spoil me too much baby. “She chuckles as she kisses her forehead.

“And you tease me too much.”Beca jokes, and she earns a light slap from the ginger. “Heyyy! Thats not fair!”

“Its fair alright, I tease you because you’re just too damn adorable.”

“Am not! I’m not adorable! I’m badass!” She says as she tries to pry herself away from Chloe, but her girl is too strong, making her stuck in Chloe’s embrace.

“Okay, okay, whatever you say cutiehead.”She giggles, kissing her right on the cheek.

“Ugh, I hate you.”Beca pouts jokingly.

“You do not hate me. Exaggerator!”She kisses her cheek again, this time much more like a wet-grandma-like kiss.

“Ewwwwww… you kiss like a grandma! My cheek is wet!”Beca complains, wiping it off with her arm.

“Want me to do it again?”Chloe asks, going in for the kiss again, but Beca’s hand stops it from reaching her cheek. “Noooooooooh!” Her lips get closer again.

“I don’t hear a please Beca.”Chloe teases, getting even closer.

“NOooooooh!”

“C’mon Beca. Just one word baby.”

“Okay fine! Please stop!” Beca gives up and Chloe’s lips retrieves.

“See? That wasn’t so hard? Was it Beca? When you’re a good girl, you get your way, or can get things faster.”She winks. “But when you’re a bad girl, you don’t get your way, and sometimes you can get more pain or teasing from it. “She lowers her hand down to Beca’s ass and squeezes it, making Beca wince. She had been a bad girl in bed last Saturday, and the pain was much better but its still hurt a bit. But that story’s for another day.

“Can we go to bed? I’m really tired. Like exhausted.”Beca asks her girlfriend, looking up at her with pouty eyes.

“Okay. Let’s get to bed, really tired. I don’t know where my Beca went though.”She jokes and giggles, taking her hand and leading her to the bedroom.

“Its almost 12. Which means it’s already tomorrow, and now we don’t have anymore time to sleep…”Beca mumbles as she walks into the closet and gets changed into her pajamas, an oversized teeshirt, which is of corse Chloe’s, and plops down on the bed.

“You’re okay. C’mere baby.”Chloe says as she lifts the comforter up and slides in, waiting for Beca to do the same.

Beca yawns as she gets in and curls up close to Chloe, her bing the little spoon and Chloe being the big spoon. “I love you.” She closes her eyes, and lets Chloe wrap her body around hers, feeling safe and comfortable.

“You’re quite the over thinker, aren’t you baby.”Chloe chuckles as she peppers kisses all over Beca’s head, and then starts running her fingers through Beca’s hair, allowing her to relax.

“But it’s true though, i.....”

“Shh… baby. Stop talking and calm down.” The ginger says gently and kisses her head once again.

Beca’s train of thoughts don’t stop though,she stops talking but the thoughts in her mind keep running, and she can't seem to stop them. She thinks about how perfect her life is, with Chloe and Chase, and how she want to pop the question soon. How she's gonna do that, what say to ask Stacie to help her pick the engagement ring, and then how the wedding is gonna be, how she's gonna tell the Bellas, and on and on and on and....

“Beca. Turn off your thoughts. I can still hear the gears turning.”Chloe says.

"I'm no...."

"Save the questions and the thoughts for another day Becs. " She rubs her arm.

“Mkay….night...”Beca mumbles, turning and facing Chloe’s body, curling up once again as she rubs her back.

It can wait another day.

She soon relaxes and lets sleep take over, feeling safe and sound in Chloe’s arms.

Chloe kisses the sleeping brunette's head for the last time before she falls asleep.

“Good night, my angel.”

[fanfictionaries]

Love and Academia Ch. 3 - Dream Homes and Disloyalty

Pairing: AU Professor!Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Swearing, smut, NSFW/18+ only, mentions of death/violence/suicide

Author’s note: We get a nice little look into Bucky’s perspective this week. Also because this is an AU and I am the God on the worlds I create, Steve has a big family and he’s from the midwest. I just want him to be a happy little farm boy! 

And as always, I do not currently have a beta reader so please excuse any larger issues. it’s just little ol’ me!

***

Bucky’s feet hit the ground. Left, right, left, right. He was on the final mile of his morning run. Usually by this time he’d be well into his runner’s high, feeling great as he finished off his fifth mile, but today it was like each step made him weaker and slower. His legs cut through the air like a knife cutting through frozen butter. He thought about stopping, just giving up and calling that day’s run short, but a yip at his side and the brush of a cold nose on his calf eliminated the idea immediately. Trixie, his border collie, would be an energetic wreck all day if she didn’t get her full five miles. So, he pushed through, finally slowing to a walk when he’d fully completed his run.

“There, ya happy?” Bucky asked, looking down at his dog. Trixie looked up at her owner briefly, tail wagging, tongue hanging from her mouth, and looking as pleased as ever as she padded beside him. He held her leash loosely in his hand as Trixie led the way towards their new house. Their new home.

It was a red brick Victorian style home nestled on a quiet back street. It’s deep green door, white trim, and beautiful garden of roses and irises held a certain charm. The garden had been the main selling point for him and Diane. Diane had been so taken by the white picket fence in the front yard, with the ivy-colored trellis framing the walkway to the front door. She insisted they put in an offer straight away, even though they weren’t planning on moving for another year. Bucky had called her crazy, saying that it was insane for them to pay both rent in Brooklyn and a mortgage in Idaho. But she had reasoned that with both of their jobs and their minor expenses they could easily afford it and it was a small price to pay for their dream home.

“You mean your dream home?” Bucky laughed.

“It’s not your dream home?” Diane asked, slightly crestfallen at the realization.

“Your dream is my dream,” Bucky said, and it was true. His dream was her and therefore whatever her dream was, was his as well.

But now as he treaded across the loose boards on the front porch to unlock the door that stuck, he cursed her for making this their dream. Opening the door and crossing the threshold, he unhooked Trixie’s leash and placed his keys on the table next to the front door. Trixie, apparently wiped from their run, laid on her bed across the living room and promptly fell asleep. Bucky reached for the remote and turned on the TV, skimming through the channels until he got the local news, and then settled into the rest of his workout. It was always the same: sit ups, pushups, pull ups, repeat. The same simple routine helping to bring him clarity. Something he needed a lot of these days.

The decision to leave Brooklyn had been his idea. His contract with NYU was coming to an end, and he just kept feeling like he needed a change. He’d called Brooklyn home his entire life. Despite his short time away for undergrad at Boston University, he’d been born in Brooklyn, grown up in the streets of Brooklyn with his brothers, gotten his PhD at NYU, gotten his first teaching position there, met Diane there. But he was growing restless of the same old story. Diane, thankfully, agreed. She, being from Montana, enjoyed her time on the east side of the country, but was ready to be closer to home.

Bucky had just finished his last set when his phone buzzed on the coffee table. Not even thinking, he reached for it and pressed the green call button.

“So, he finally answers,” Steve boomed from the other end. Bucky sighed inwardly; he’d been avoiding Steve all week since they’d last seen each other at the bar.

“Hey man, what’s up?”

“Oh, you know, I was just wondering if I could actually see my best friend and catch up with him finally. Or will I have to wait another six years?”

“Alright, alright, message received jerk. Why don’t we grab coffee this morning? I’m headed into the office a little later and I have time before then,” Bucky said, feeling guilty for not making it up to Steve for completely bailing on their guys night last week. Steve laughed and agreed, throwing out a time and place before ending the call.

Bucky showered before dressing in a pair of jeans and white t-shirt. He brushed his wet hair and contemplated trimming his beard before saying ‘fuck it’ and walking out of the bathroom. Making his way down the stairs, he was halfway down when a step gave under his foot. With a loud crack, the wood split in two and he was ankle deep in pain and frustration.

“Jesus fucking Christ!”

Bucky pulled his foot from the hole and continued walking down the stairs gingerly. Pulling up his pant leg, he assessed that there was minimal damage, and proceeded to grab his wallet, keys, and phone from the coffee table. He crouched down by Trixie’s bed and gave her a scratch behind the ear.

“I’ll be back later girl,” Bucky said. Trixie nuzzled his palm with her nose before giving it a kiss and laying her head back down on her bed.

Fifteen minutes later and Bucky was seated at a table in a small coffee shop, ice coffee in hand, with Steve sat across from him.

“It’s good to see you man. Really good,” Steve said, taking a sip of his coffee and leaning back in his seat.

“I know, it really is. Tell me again why you moved all the way out here after college?” Bucky asked, rubbing a bead of condensation away from the side of his cup.

“Oh, you know me. Boston was fun but after four years I was done with the big city. It’s not home, but most of my family isn’t even in Minnesota anymore anyways.”

“And you’re liking it here so far?”

“Oh, I love it. My parents are here, so is my sister Mary. Mike’s still in Bloomington, but him and the wife have been talking about moving down here too. You know us Rogers—can’t stay apart for too long. We always end up finding our way back together,” Steve chuckled.

“Yea, you are a dysfunctional bunch, aren’t you,” Bucky teased.

“Oh please, I’ve met the Barnes family several times. How many times has your mom called you?”

“Today or in the last week?” Bucky laughed, thinking about how his mom had called him at least three times a day for the past month he had been in Idaho.

“Mary still seeing that finance guy?” Bucky asked, trying to remember the small details Steve had dropped about his family over the years through their phone calls.

“Oh Doug? God no. No, he turned out to be a real piece of shit…why? You interested?” Steve grinned, raising an eyebrow at Bucky.

“You seriously trying to set me up with your sister man?”

“Hey—" Steve held his hands up in defense “—I’m just saying. She’s always had a bit of a thing for you.”

“Well, that’s certainly news to me, but I’m not exactly single Steve,” Bucky sighed.

“I thought you said Diane said—”

“Yea, I know what she said but it doesn’t really mean I agree with it. That was her idea, not mine.”

“So, the other night at the bar?”

“Was a mistake. Besides, nothing really happened.”

Steve looked skeptical, “She seemed pretty upset right before she left. You sure nothing really happened?”

“What are you implying?”

“Nothing. I’m just worried about you.”

There was a long silence as they sat there. Bucky refusing to look at Steve. Steve refusing to look away from Bucky. Bucky had felt guilty that night with Emily. He truly had. Diane’s words had run through his head that night over and over again. He thought that if he had kept it impersonal, maybe he could do it. With Diane not there, he was lonely and god, he had been wildly attracted to Emily. Probably more than he liked to admit. But no matter what Diane said, when it came down to it, it still felt like a betrayal.

“Well, at least something good came out of that night,” Bucky stated, steering the conversation in another direction.

“Oh yea? What?”

“I’m assuming you went home with her friend, yea?”

At the mention of Natasha, Steve’s face went bright red and he coughed into his hand, “We uh, no we didn’t. She wanted to but…”

“You said no?” Bucky asked shocked.

“Yea, well you know me. I’m a bit old fashioned. I want to take a girl out on an actual date before we—”

“Fuck each other’s brains out?”

“Something like that—" Steve smirked into his coffee cup, “—I’m taking her out for dinner tomorrow actually.”

Bucky smiled at Steve, his best friend looking bashful but excited, “Gonna’ show her the ol’ Steve Rogers’ charm?”

“I’m just hoping I don’t make a fool of myself. It’s been a while since I went out on a date. You know, what with me and Peggie splitting and she’s…very confident. She definitely knows what she wants,” Steve admitted.

“Oh, you’re for sure going to make a fool of yourself, but I don’t think that’ll hurt your chances.”

Bucky laughed as Steve reached across the table and tried to punch him in the arm.

“Jerk,” Steve said, smiling the whole time. They talked for a while longer, Bucky asking about Steve’s family and Steve doing the same. They talked about mutual friends and what they were up to. About an hour had passed when Steve asked about Bucky’s new job.

“So, when do you start your new gig?”

“This coming Monday. I was actually going to stop by today and take care of paperwork, maybe check out my new office,” Bucky said, draining the last of his coffee.

“Well, I won’t keep you from that. I should probably get going. I’ve got to head to the gym and then get home and get some stuff done.”

They stood and said their goodbyes, promising to hang out again soon before exiting the coffee shop and getting in their cars. It was a short drive from there to the university. The red brick and lush green trees reminding Bucky of home. However, stepping out of his truck, the dry heat was a pleasant reminder that this place was definitely not humid, sticky Brooklyn in August. Locking his car behind him in the visitor’s parking lot, he walked casually towards the Life Science’s building. He admired the landscaping as he walked, always finding humor in how every university seemed to try and make their campus as pretty as possible right before school started. A nicer grounds always did well for visiting prospective students, parents dropping off their children for their first year, and returning students who wanted a reason to stay.

The Life Science’s building was definitely older than some of the other buildings on campus, but that didn’t both him too much. He climbed the stairs, old linoleum steps peeling and cracking as he double checked the office number on his phone. Room 439. As he neared the room tucked back into a corner of the floor, he began to hear music. Gradually it increased in volume, a punky beat from a band that he recognized. It became clear that the music was coming from room 439 when he entered through the front door. Looking around he saw an older lab, boxes piled high and lab equipment strewn about haphazardly. The music was coming from the office within the lab, this time though, he could hear a voice singing along to it. It was loud, raspy, and overall offkey. Maybe he had the wrong room number? He walked towards the office, hoping to ask whoever was in there for some help finding the right place. Inside was a young woman dressed in a pair of baggy jeans and t-shirt. He watched in amusement as she danced to the music, obviously under the impression that she was alone as her hips wiggled and head bopped side to side.

“Um, excuse me. I think this is my office,” he called over the music, feeling bad that he was probably going to embarrass the girl. She jumped at his voice and when she whipped around the ground fell out from underneath him.

“What the hell are you doing here?” he asked. Anger, for some reason, being his initial reaction to seeing Emily standing in what was supposed to be his office. Emily, a woman who had told him that she was a bartender. Emily, a woman he had almost hooked up with and then snubbed very dickishly at a bar about a week ago.

She seemed pretty upset right before she left. Steve’s words rang in his mind.

[thebiasrekkers]

Fragmentation 1.0

Plot: How does one measure freedom? Are our choices truly our own, or are they part of a preset design outside of our control? We all have a question burning inside of us, though few speak it out. It is the question that drives us forward, seeking purpose in our lives. What is The Matrix?

Rating: NC-17 // NSFW

Genre: Series | The Matrix!AU | angst | sci-fi | action | drama

Pairing: N/A

Warnings: Strong language, allusions to suicide, extreme angst, graphic violence

Links: FAQ || BTS Masterlist || Admin E’s AO3 || [ REQUESTS ARE OPEN ]

Word Count: 3,435

AN: Like all of my works, there will be OCs working opposite of the boys. In this story, we have three. Next in the Fragmentation series is Elain. She is slated to be The One in the series. This is her tale on how she was found by one of the crew members of The Amaterasu. On to Hitomi’s origin story for Defragmentation! All information in the universe can be found on the official Matrix Wiki so please use that as a reference guide if you ever get confused!

Tag List: @aroseforyoongi​, @prisczero​, @pinkpjmin​, @btsaudge​, @flowerwrites06​, @unoriginal-username15432​, @shrimpmsg​

© thebiasrekkers (Admin E). All rights reserved. Reposting/modifying our work is prohibited. Translations are not allowed. Plagiarism/stealing is not tolerated by any means. Legal action will be taken in instances of theft.

Elain proceeded to clean up a few of the glasses that were left over in the sink. She saw Sam wiping the back of his hands on his apron before he reached over to grab another dish towel. Elain smiled, held her hand out to stop him and the grin only got bigger as she saw the inquisitive look on his face. He was, to say the least, slightly confused. Closing time always was the slowest and most boring part of a bartender's job description.

"Don't you need me to help you out?"

The woman smiled softly, tossing some of her dark blonde curls out of her face as she leaned forward to finish pulling out a few more wet glasses from out the sink to dry them. "I've got this. You just go on back to the house. You've been here since noon."

Sam was about to protest. He hated seeing Elain doing all the hard work and she knew that. At least he had a place to go home to in the evenings. With company, a warm meal, and a reasonable house of interesting people. But Elain...she only had that apartment with that crazy little border collie of hers. She claimed that she was fine and that the random visits to Sam’s home with his boisterous housemates made up for that, but in all honesty, Sam just thought she needed someone else in her life. A person who could relate to her pain and give her a shoulder to lean on...just as she could give her shoulder to them.

Shrugging out of his apron, he folded it up neatly and placed it in one of the bottom cabinets. "Alright. Well, if you need me to come back, just call me."

Elain nodded, shooing the man out the backdoor so she could close up. After she dried up the remaining glasses, she pulled her own apron off. Looking up at the VIP box office where her managers worked, Elain sighed. Word on the grapevine was that her bosses were affiliated with the mob. Though she couldn't say just how high up the food chain these two men were, she could almost guarantee that they were of high rank and standing within the mafia. 

Which, in turn, made them her enemies.

But she couldn't bring herself to be angry with them. After all, from what she could tell, they were involved because they had no other choice. As if it were a sort of livelihood for them. Kyle was an honest, diligent worker. The first to come in to work and the last to leave. Marcus came in and out every once in a while, but for the most part, a good hefty portion of the management job fell onto the younger brother’s shoulders. And, like tonight, only Kyle was working his crazy hours inside that office of his.

Pulling out two glasses, Elain poured a shot and a half's worth of bourbon in each one - adding two ice cubes to lightly dilute the liquid. If she knew anything, Kyle would definitely need an after work drink to relax and calm his nerves. She popped her neck some, massaging the shoulders here and there, before making her way out from behind the counter and sidling into the nearest stool. She picked up the cool glass and touched it to her lips, allowing the liquid to slowly slide down her throat. It was a welcome burn. After tracing her fingertips along the edge of the glass, she started lightly humming a song to herself as her hair, once again, fell into her piercing gray-blue eyes.

Dad...

Elain enjoyed the taste of the liquor sliding down her throat. As she heard the door to the office upstairs closing with a light click, she paused just as the glass was leaving her lips and she looked up with her dark slate eyes to see Kyle locking up the office. Smiling, she set the glass down on the coaster in front of her, looking back at the glass and fingering the edges once more with the tips of her digits. Mentally she smiled bigger than what her outer appearance allowed her to. 

After all, she wasn't one for giving away her inner most thoughts. Her specialty was people watching, after all.

The way Kyle shrugged his shoulders as he was locking up gave an air of resistance. Like he was shrinking back from some unknown force around him. It permeated a reclusive air that Elain just wasn't sure she was equal to. Her dog was company enough for her and she definitely didn't shrink back from Janice. The poor border collie would have been so offended. But it indicated just how tight of a hold Kyle had on himself - keeping others at arm's distances, if not further. 

He descended the stairwell.

As he reached the bottom, there was a slight hesitation in his steps. She could hear it - feel it - the breath between them so tense it could have been sliced with a knife or cut with fabric shears. Though the pause was but a half a second, Elain could sense the doubt. Would he approach? Should he approach? These were all things that Kyle was probably thinking. Beyond the occasional greeting, the two of them never really conversed all that much. He'd hired her because he was the manager - her boss - and she'd met the credentials needed to do the job. That was all that really mattered, right? Credentials?

He slid into the bar stool next to her and she turned her head on cue, flashing him a smile that was both soft and welcome as he picked up the glass of bourbon. "Thanks." 

His hum of approval was a welcoming sound and Elain felt her teeth show. Well, she certainly knew that she was the barkeep for a reason. When he turned to smile at her, Elain couldn't help but wonder if the smile was genuine or if it was a well-rehearsed gesture that Kyle practiced for a while. 

"Shouldn't you be home by now? It's not good to work so much," he teased, causing her to quip a brow as she lifted her glass to her lips.

"Nah," she said, shaking her head and closing her eyes as she waved one hand gently to the side before taking a whiff of the bourbon with satisfaction. "There's this sayin' back where I grew up. In a club, it's always the guy servin' the drinks and the guy cuttin' the checks that are the first to come in to work and the last to leave." Elain turned to look at him, eyes half-lidded in their sultry fashion as her smile broadened before winking cutely at him. "Guess that means us, hm?" 

Kyle’s smile went from polite to almost devious. “I suppose it does.”

Laughing lightly, she ran a hand through her thick raven locks while turning to look at him, her bangles jangling like little bells by her ear as she moved to rest her elbow on the counter top. "So tell me, Boss Man. Why's it feel like you're locked away up there in your office like some mad scientist instead of coming down here and chatting with me during a break?" She gently clinked her glass against his as he held it up halfway from his face. "For a minute there, I thought it was because you didn't like me." 

Her smile widened and she laughed lightly once more, tossing some of her raven hair from her shoulders as her other hand rested on her bare torso. This outfit was indeed quite strange, but she didn't mind. Elain knew it suited the work atmosphere and it was necessary for her to "blend in" because the customer should always be the focus of her attention. 

Boss or not, she was currently her customer.

"I would love to come down for a drink every now and then, but I don’t really take breaks with as much work as I do. What's the saying? 'There's no rest for the wicked'? Or, in my case, no rest for the 'Boss Man' as you put it." Kyle gave a little chuckle of his own before it died off to a simple, amused smirk on his lips.

“Not much of a crowd person.” Elain said it like it was a statement versus a question. She waited for him to confirm or deny it, but when he said nothing, she simply shrugged one shoulder and set her glass down on the coaster in front of her. “I can understand that.”

He quirked a brow at her. “You do?”

She nodded, her brows furrowing slightly. “Yeah. I mean, sure, we work in the bar and club business, but we keep ourselves isolated from it all.” She pointed toward his private office. “You have your office and I have my bar,” she continued, smoothing her hand over the counter, “there’s always a line that we divide between us and the rest of the world.”

In a way, it was almost like they were born isolated from what they knew to be the world around them. It felt natural, yet it felt wrong all in the same instance. Elain could never fully gauge why she felt that way, but only that she did.

Kyle looked at her for a long time; longer than what she was used to or even comfortable with. There were a variety of reasons why people stared at her and it was usually because of her appearance. She was a light-skinned, Creole woman with dark blonde curls and piercing grayish-blue eyes. People often thought she wore contacts, but it was just her genetics. 

Half English, half Haitian.

He sighed, his eyes shifting to look back at his glass. “And some of us are higher on the food chain than everyone else.”

Elain blinked, confused by his words. “What do you mean, Kyle?”

Suddenly, the door to the club opened. Elain stood up on reflex, her eyes scanning the doorway. A young man of Asian descent with black and orange hair entered. He had a pair of sunglasses on, which was strange for that time of night. He wore a white leather jacket with a black rocker t-shirt underneath stuffed into his black denim jeans with the knees torn open. 

“Um, excuse me,” Elain called out to him.

The heels of the man’s combat boots clicked against the tile floor as he scanned the club, his head stopping as he faced in their direction. 

She frowned. “I’m sorry, but we’re closed for the night.”

“It’s you.” His voice was soft but full of authority. It caused her brows to furrow in confusion as she heard Kyle shifting from his chair next to her. “You’re the one I’ve been looking for.”

“What are you talking about?” 

It was all she could manage to get out before the man was reaching behind him. Within seconds, he was pulling out a gun, the barrel trained at her boss. Elain gasped sharply, her hands shooting up in a show of surrender. 

“Hey, what the hell are you doing?!” she demanded. 

The man said nothing. Instead, he squeezed the trigger and fired off a shot - the bullet zipping out to plunge itself into Kyle’s forehead. A spray of blood splattered across Elain’s arm as she let out an ear splitting shriek - her eyes growing wide while her boss’s body hit the ground with a hard thud. Tears filled her eyes as she fell to her knees, her hands shakily reaching out to touch him. The sound of rushed footsteps seemed to vibrate inside of her ears, muffling all the noise around her. 

As she stared at Kyle’s body, she watched it jerk slightly, as though he were being electrocuted, and then fizzled into a different form. The man lying beside her was no longer the kind and quiet Kyle, but a man whom she didn’t recognize - his eyes covered by a pair of sunglasses and a security earpiece in his ear. Even his suit, casual and comfortable, was replaced with a stuffy one that someone from a high profile security detail would wear. 

“W-What’s going on?” Elain barely managed to croak out. 

Just then, she felt her arm being grabbed roughly and she craned her neck to see that it was the man who’d killed her boss. Or, at least, the man she’d thought was her boss. She tried to pull herself free, but he only tightened his hold on her.

“Let me go!”

“We don’t have time for this,” he snapped, all but yanking her up to her feet, “we need to leave this place. Now.”

The doors to the club suddenly burst open, a torrent of gunshots and bullets spraying in varying directions. Elain screamed, covering her ears as the stranger immediately slammed his chest into her back. They crashed to the floor and a sharp pain hit her elbows as they collided with the ground. The bar counter served as a momentary shield, the sound of glass breaking as powerful as the smell of alcohol as they leaked from their containers. There was a distinct sound of something being shifted and Elain felt her arm being gripped once more. When she looked back, she saw the stranger pulling out a zippo lighter from his pocket. 

Before she could ask him what he was about to do, he shifted his gaze to meet hers. His sunglasses came off during their fall. There was a sharp intake of breath from Elain as she looked into his eyes.

They were the same slate blue as her own.

The man threw the lighter over the counter and Elain could smell the alcohol catching fire. Taking a moment to utilize the confusion, he grabbed for her arm and hauled her up onto her feet. There wasn’t even enough time for him to yell at her to run. She just let her legs instinctively take control. Gunshots rang out through the club as they both bee-lined for the rear entrance to the club. 

Sweat ran down Elain’s spine as her feet ate up the ground, the stranger hot on her heels. Sliding on the wet concrete, her shoulder slammed into the brick wall of the alley. Grunting, she tried to urge her legs to keep going but the adrenaline was starting to drain out from her. As if he’d sensed it, the man grabbed her hand and all but dragged her behind him. 

They reached the end of the alley, his arm shooting out to stop her from stepping out onto the side street. Elain’s heart drummed heavily against her chest, the beating reaching her ears and muffling all other sounds from her senses. There was a point where she thought the world was blurring in and out of focus around her, but she couldn’t be sure. Were those men still chasing them? Was she actually standing there and not running anymore?

The sound of tires screeching to a halt was the last thing Elain heard before everything motion blurred around her - fading into darkness.

“Somebody better start talking,” Elain snarled, her back pressed to the wall of what looked like an abandoned building, “I want answers!”

Another Asian man, different from the one who’d snatched her from the club, stood in an opposite corner of the room. He cradled what looked like a sniper rifle in his hands, the barrel of the gun resting along his left shoulder and across his body. He scoffed, a derisive smirk spreading over his lips. 

“She’s feisty,” he said, craning his neck to look at the man who brought her there, “I like her already.”

“Keep it in your pants, Ares,” snapped a woman with blonde hair stuffed into a ball cap, “business first. You can get laid later.”

The man, Ares, snorted before leveling his gaze back to Elain. She frowned at him, his arrogant smirk refusing to fall. For good measure, she threw the bird at him. Instead of responding in offense, Ares laughed and shook his head. It caused Elain to blink and further pressed herself along the wall.

Unable to shake the trepidation from her body, she clutched and wrung her hands together. The person who brought her to that unknown place approached her. When he was less than three feet away from her, Elain shifted again even though she knew she had nowhere to go.

“You can relax. You’re safe and among friends.” He tried to sound reassuring and she had to admit that his soft voice was, in a sense, calming.

“Speak for yourself.” The woman cut her green eyes to Elain. “We’re not even sure she’s going to relent.”

“She will, Crow.” Ares’s smirk widened. “She’s too curious not to.”

“Quiet. Both of you.” The man never took his eyes off of her, forcing Elain to focus on only him for the moment. “They call me Cobra. I’m sure you’ve heard of me.”

Elain’s lips parted, her eyes widening in shock. “Y-You’re--?”

“The one who successfully hacked the government’s Central Intelligence systems? You would be right.” Cobra smiled, the gentleness meeting his eyes. “I had some help, of course, but it was mostly my work.”

“Don’t let Frost or Miles hear you. They’ll never let you hear the end of it.” The woman, Crow, called out to them but Cobra didn’t acknowledge her physically. He kept his eyes locked on Elain.

Those names were like little firecrackers going off in the back of her brain. She’d heard of them while she was tooling around on the net. But it was the question that always lingered in her mind. The question that she longed to obtain the answers.

“What is The Matrix?”

Elain couldn’t stop the gasp from leaving her lips even if she’d wanted to. How could he have known that was the question she was wanting to know the answer to? He smiled, canting his head slightly as he looked at her.

“I know that look. It’s the same look I had on my face once.” 

He reached out to grab one of her hands and she didn’t try to resist. Turning her hand over, he placed something inside her palm. When she looked back at her hand, there were two gelatin capsules in her hand. One red, the other blue. Her brows furrowed and she looked back to Cobra, his face calm and reassuring.

“Hitomi,” he said, causing tears to form in her eyes, “you have a choice to make right now. Even though I already know what choice you’re going to make, I still want to give you the option to bail out.” He pointed to her hand. “The red pill will lead you down the path that will answer all of your questions. But it will also give birth to more questions, some of which you may never find the answers for. The blue pill will make you forget everything prior to the moment I walked into your life. You won’t even have the questions inside of you anymore.” 

Crow approached Cobra, handing him a glass of water. He held it out to Elain, to which she absentmindedly took it.

He knew so much and she seemed to know so little. Would she really be okay never knowing the truth? Would she be okay returning to a life of blissful ignorance?

Elain dropped the blue pill onto the ground, tossing the red pill into her mouth and draining the glass of water. Within seconds, both Crow and Ares were moving around her. They were pushing her onto a nearby couch and panic snaked up her throat as she was forced to lay down. Pressing a variety of sticky pads to her skin and temples, she noticed the monitoring devices and felt her panic growing. Cobra pressed his palm along her forehead, feeling his cool palm easing the inflamed feeling flushing out across her skin. 

For a moment, she forgot about her fears and all the movement going on around her. The onset of hysteria was briefly beaten back by Cobra’s almost serene expression. Her eyelids grew a little heavy as he stroked his thumb along the space between her eyebrows.

“I’ll see you soon, Hitomi…”

Hitomi nodded, her eyes lifting to stare mindlessly at the ceiling. She took a deep breath, blinked twice, and watched the world dissolve into darkness - the space replaced with lines of green code. She felt a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

And then it all went dark again.

“Welcome to the Real World.”

[lady-poppy-verona-blog]

million dollar houses (the painter)

“i’ve broken bones for you, and for you only”

((aka: practice challenge one. title and quote creds to pierce the veil)) ((unedited))

🌸

justin, who she would never have called for something like this, is more than willing to help her fill out this shitty paperwork.

well, maybe not shitty. but it’s not something she enjoys.

her parents are half forcing her to join the selection. the other half is god damn, she really needs to get over andrew. she’s always viewed the selection the same way her older sister, daisy, does- stupid, pointless, misogynistic, unlikely to work. but she’ll do it anyways, because, yeah, she’s kind of lonely without someone to cuddle with, and yeah, her family, while they are pretty well off for both their area (a rather expensive, two filled portion of honduragua, right on the beach) and their caste (fives, but by now her father has probably sold enough artwork to buy their way up a caste), still need money to keep themselves going.

who knows, maybe it will work out. she snickers out loud at that thought. justin looks at her, eyebrow raised. “you good there, pal?”

“the answer is a very big ‘no, not really, but thanks for asking’,” poppy answers with a shrug. “okay, you’re the one always telling me how great i am, so tell me what’s great about me specifically, because you know that i hate myself.”

as they filled out the form, poppy thinks back to just what got her to agree to this ridiculous display, something she wouldn’t of done otherwise.

🌸

just a few months before poppy’s 19th birthday, she was dumped. andrew, that absolute dickhead, decided that instead of actually trying to make things work during the draft, he’d breakup with his girlfriend of almost four years at the very coffee shop they’d met each other. she never got anything to let her know he was safe- no letter, no text, no phone call, nothing.

at least she had her friends, though- justin, keri and aisling were always there for her, even when they had better things to do than hold her while she cried and ate ice cream (keri) or tell her that he was a dick who didn’t deserve her (ais) or put up with watching stupid rom coms over and over again (justin). she had made a deal with herself that she was done wasting tears over him three weeks after he had left and returned to dedicating her time to what she really cared about: painting, teasing her younger sister, learning welsh because she had no life, longboarding to the beach with keri.

she hears a knock on her door, the one they’d come up with as children so they'd know it was who it was when they’d visit each other. keri pokes her head in as poppy drops a paint brush back into the already clouded mug of water. keri hugs her from behind, looking at her work. “did you mean to paint in… what is this, gaelic?”

“welsh, actually. daisy’s husband-you know, the teacher?- has a textbook about old welsh kings and the language and such she thought i’d be interested, so she sent it to me,” she says with a grin. lines and lines of dark green writing curl over a sky blue background saying one thing over and over: rwy'n colli chi-i miss you. there’s little spatters of pinks and purples and oranges, looking like flowers falling from the sky.

“it’s pretty. i don’t know who this would sell to, though.” she looks at it appraisingly, probably already trying to figure out mat and frame measurements. she worked at her family’s craft store, framing photos and cleaning up after hours.

poppy shrugs. “i was actually thinking of keeping this one. it’s kind of personal.” it’s about andrew, and keri probably knows it by now. she does miss him, and it almost hurts to go through her pictures on her old, broken-ish phone and have to scroll past pictures of them- cuddling, laughing, kissing- that she can’t bear to delete.

“why are you still hung up on him, p? he’s an idiot who didn’t deserve you and probably has a tiny penis.” she sighs and sits down on poppy’s bed, picking up her book (a history of wales) and attempts to read it without disturbing the leaf poppy has been using as a bookmark.

poppy snatches the book from her, closes it back up, and tucks it in her book drawer, which is full of books she’s reading for the first time and hasn’t finished yet. “he doesn’t. i’ve seen it.” she releases her hair from the ponytail it’s been trapped in and runs her hands through it as she blushes slightly. she hadn’t told anyone about that except for daisy, her older sister, who hadn’t taken it too well. there was a lot of whisper yelling on that phone call.

keri’s jaw drops. “you what?” she leans towards poppy, her voice dropping to a whisper. “did you guys… you know…”

poppy stifles a laugh. “god no. we knew better.” they did, but it was difficult. it’s hard to keep it in your pants when you’re two teenagers in love, but they managed to never go all the way, but still pretty far.

keri shuddered. “let's change the subject please, i don’t want to hear about your nasty secret life. you wanna hear about my and madi’s gig last night? it was a shit show.” madi, one of keri’s friends, often accompanied her on piano while keri sang at parties. “so it’s at some asshole Two’s house for their six year old daughter, right? so we prepare some disney music and some fun little instrumental things and the parents walk up to us about five songs in and tell us, and i quote, that “our daughter has slightly more refined taste.” can you fucking believe it? so they make us play like jazz music so i sang approximately 18 different etta james songs and i did bing crosby. i’m so pissed.” she shakes her head and laughs. “i like jazz, but that’s not what we prepared. what entitled asshats.”

poppy smirks, glad she doesn’t have to deal with that. her family, all painters, had always made clear that if they were commissioned and the person didn’t like the piece, they would pay for the supplies wasted on the unwanted item as well as a new painting. “that’s rough.” she grabs her mug of tea (labeled in sharpie with “not paint water”) and stands up. “let’s go do something. i’m sick of  working.”

as they leave the house, poppy ducks her head into her mom’s study to let her know where she’s going, a holdover from the neighborhood they used to live in- a dirty, dangerous area, where anything could, and probably would, happen, even in broad daylight. “me and keri are going out, probably the fairgrounds and the skatepark. i’ll see you later.”

“okay mari, be safe. i love you,” her mom says as she stands up to give her a hug.

“love you too, momma.”

an abandoned fairground is fun during the day, but even more fun (and creepy) at night. the amount of times she and justin have snuck out here at 2 am is shocking, and the amount of times she and keri have snuck out here at 2 pm is even more. looking out at the little dents and trash where the rides used to be reminds her of times, recently or years ago, she’s gone under the framework of a roller coaster or the back of a mirror maze to fool around with someone- get a little action with a fling, get a little nasty with her boyfriend, or wallow in self pity and make out with keri where no one could judge them for taking out all their sexual frustration as of late on each other. they find the one staple of the fairgrounds, a large, rocky outcrop that’s fun to climb and even more fun to sit on top of and just bitch about anything and everything.

keri grabs her hand, pulling her up and onto the top of the outcropping. “has your family gotten the letter yet?”

poppy raises an eyebrow curiously. “what letter?” she manages to get her legs comfortably swung over the edge. keri gives her a rather pointed glance, waiting for her to get what she’s referencing. poppy still doesn’t get it, and tells keri as much.

keri snickers. “from the palace? about the selection?” poppy shakes her head. “you seriously don’t know what i’m talking about? well, our future esteemed leader”-eyeroll- “is a grown ass man now apparently, and therefore needs a pretty woman to stand next to him and look pretty while he cheats on her the entire time. so, we have a selection to find said pretty woman and possibly the woman to cheat on her with. true love.”

poppy laughs. “you poor gay soul. how will you ever find love now?”

“fuck you, pick a side.” keri says with a smile. “no, but i was going to ask whether you were going to apply or not, especially since you’re single and lonely now.”

“i mean, i could, but the likelyhood of me finding love there is a zillion to one. besides, i dunno if i’m over andrew yet and i don’t want to subject people to that kind of emotional pain.” poppy shakes her head. “so no, i don’t think i will.”

keri ponders this for a moment. “if you do get selected, it might help you get over him. you might find love or something gross like that.”

“i don’t want to. i want to stay here and wallow in self pity.”

“if you don’t apply, i’m won’t make out with you ever again.”

poppy looks over at her. “you wouldn’t.”

“i would. you can’t just use being physical with someone to distract you from your nasty heterosexual feelings. and i don’t care that i’m lonely too, so don’t try to play that card with me.” keri says. she begins to climb down. “let’s go to the skatepark. this is boring.”

when she got home later, her mom and younger sister, lily, ushered her into her mother’s study. “mariana, look what i have for you!” estefani said in a whisper yell.

“pop pop, you have a letter from the palace!” lily said in a yell yell.

estefani mendoza-verona was the strongest woman poppy knew. she had emigrated with her family from brazil when she was 13, five years before she had married poppy’s father, martin, and knew almost no english. they had come from an artistic background in brazil, so the illéan immigration system had placed them as fives. her family had to battle people for every job they got, and estefani had to learn english for all of them, as her parents were older and her siblings were young. when she met martin, who came from a far richer family than hers, she was able to finally support herself and start to help her parents.

all this, and she was still supermodel gorgeous and now fluent in four languages. she tends to switch languages halfway through a sentence, which is what she’s doing now, overly excited about her daughter’s opportunity. “é para a seleção, and i know you’re still getting over sabes quién, but me and lily thought you’d be interested. besides, there’s some good money, et dieu sait que nous pourrions utiliser cela.”

poppy, who gets her love of languages from her mother, understands every word, even the french at the end, which is a little surprising. “eu sei, mãe, mas eu não sei se vale a pena para mim. eu não terminei andrew e não sei se estou pronto para encontrar alguém.”

lily looks at them, annoyed. she barely understands portuguese, and hates being unable to follow a conversation. “what are you saying? is it about the selection?”

poppy laughs. “yes lils, it’s about the selection. mamãe wants me to enter, but i don’t know. there’s good money, but what about andrew?”

lily screws her face up in disgust. “i hate him. he’s mean. you should join just to spite him.”

“i like the way you think, sister sister. who knew you could be so evil?” poppy says, giving her a high five and giggling.

“so you’ll do it?” estefani asks. “you’ll enter?”

poppy thinks for a minute. “what’s the worst that could happen?”

🌸

((here’s the translations lol:

“é para a seleção”- it’s for the selection (portuguese)

“sabes quién”- you know who (spanish)

“et dieu sait que nous pourrions utiliser cela” - and god knows we could use that (french)

“eu sei, mãe, mas eu não sei se vale a pena para mim. eu não terminei andrew e não sei se estou pronto para encontrar alguém”- i know, mom, but i don’t know if it's worth it to me. I’m not over andrew and i do not know if I'm ready to meet anyone (portuguese)

“mamãe”- mommy (portuguese)

and yeah that’s poppy :) i got all the translations from google, so they’re probably wrong lol))

[hanndleit]

Paws And Effect

A/N: This took waaayy too long to finish, and I’ve had this idea in my head for the LONGEST time, but I couldn’t seem to get it into words. The ending is pretty much a mess, but overall, I love the idea of G having his own dog to smother in affection.

“George might as well be a dog himself, he’s so obsessed. He doesn’t have one, and I keep coming home to find Allen not there, and then I see on Instagram he’s having a barbecue at George’s house.”

Coming home to an empty house is any dog owner’s worst nightmare, especially when one lived in a city as busy as London. For Matty, this was a regular scene. Returning to his flat after an outing, he expected to be greeted by Allen as soon as he opened the door. Bracing for impact, Matty stepped in to find it eerily silent. “Allen?” He called, his echo being the only response. Dropping his bags on top of the kitchen counter, Matty shuffled over to the sofa and collapsed into the plush cushion with a groan. “Alright you mutt.” He retrieved his phone from his pocket, unlocking it with his fingerprint. “Let’s find out where you’re at.”

It was fairly easy for Matty to track down his missing pet, considering George had tagged him in a selfie with the dog on Instagram, the timestamp being 20 minutes ago. He and George had been friends since High School, and their bond was strong enough to change earth’s rotation. With the amount of teasing and jokes they pulled on each other, there wasn’t much either of them couldn’t get away with. But Matty had had enough of having to track down his dog every time he came home. He wanted to be able to relax and wind down before he threw himself back into his work, and that was nearly impossible if he was worrying about Allen every day. At this point, he was practically George’s dog.

Matty had been on his feet for most of the day, and was far from being in the mood to storm down the street and steal his dog back for the second time that week. Scrolling through his contacts list, he found G’s number and tapped it, laying horizontally on the sofa with his phone pressed to his ear. After three rings, the opposite line came alive with background noise. Matty could hear someone laughing, before George answered with a hello.

“Quit taking my dog, Daniel.” Matty grumbled, jumping over the exchange of greetings

George laughed, and held the phone away from his face to whistle for Allen. “He loves it here, can you really blame him?”

Rubbing the bridge of his nose, Matty sighed audibly. “What I’m trying to say is, you can’t keep breaking into my flat and stealing him whenever you want. It's too much for me to be worrying about him constantly.”

“Is it breaking in if you gave me the key?” Matty rolled his eyes, he could picture the amused smirk on his mate’s face. It made him want to slap it off. “Besides, what do you have to be worried about? You know he’s in good hands.” George continued.

“Why don’t you get a dog of your own? That way you have a reason for my dog to be over at yous place.” Matty suggested. The line went quiet, and he pulled the phone away from his face to see if George had hung up. Opening his mouth to ask, he clamped it shut as G finally responded.

“Dogs are like kids, mate. They’re great, but having your own is a different story..”

Matty narrowed his eyes, giving a confused look to his ceiling. “Okay, first of all mate, dogs and children are two completely sets of responsibility. You’ll outlive your dog, but fuck up with a kid and you’re screwed for life.”

“See that’s another thing. Responsibility. I don’t have that shit to take care of a dog.” George pointed out, putting his phone against his chest and calling whoever he was with a twat.

Matty knew immediately that George was all talk. Not about the twat thing. That he was probably right about, but G had taken care of Allen more times than Matty could count while he was off. He was plenty responsible, he just liked stealing his dog far too much. With that, Matty formed an idea.

“Tell you what mate, I’ll let you keep Allen tonight, but I expect him back by tomorrow evening. I’ve got a bit of running around to do, so he could use some company.”

“Really? That’s top. I’ll take good care of him, alright?” George’s excitement put a small smile on Matty’s face.

“I trust you. Take care.” He finished, pressing the ‘End Call’ button.

Taking his phone away from his ear, Matty pulled up his internet and searched for the nearest animal rescue (Adopt, don’t shop), doing a bit of research on the few nearby. Finding one that had a lot of good reviews and no charges of animal cruelty, Matty wrote down the hours, phone number and address before getting up from the sofa and setting off to fix himself an early dinner.

-----------

The next morning at precisely 10:04 AM, Matty rolled over in his bed and slapped this phone screen until the alarm turned off. He rolled back over and pulled his blanket over his shoulders, preparing to fall back asleep, when he remembered his plans for today. He placed his pillow over his face with a groan, and sat up. Stretching his tattooed arms, Matty scratched his head, making his curly locks bounce enthusiastically. He threw back the covers and shoved his feet into his Gucci Slippers, standing and shuffling out his bedroom door to the kitchen.

Matty fixed himself a bit of tea and toast, leaning against the countertop as he went over the day’s plans in his head, deciding if he was really going to go through with it. If he went ahead and adopted George a dog, and G decided he didn’t want it, Matty might get stuck with another dog. Which in turn, would just give his mate another dog to steal. Which doesn’t exactly make sense, because wouldn’t George just be stealing his own dog? At least Matty now had a way to trap G with the dog either way.

A little past noon, Matty was dressed and making his way down from his flat with Allen’s puppy leash wrapped around one hand. It was a short 15 minute drive to the shelter, and thankfully, traffic was reasonable. Matty parked and gathered up the papers he brought along just in case he would need them, as well as the leash. His car clicked locked as he made his way toward the shelter doors, dressed in his favorite jeans and cream sweater, he pulled on the handle and was met with the muffled sound of barking from a different room. Approaching the counter, he offered a small smile to the most likely college-aged blonde girl sat at the computer.

“What can I help you with?” She asked with a bright smile and a strong American accent. Studying abroad, perhaps? The receptionist’s life story wasn’t Matty’s main focus.

“I’m ah, looking to adopt a dog.” He replied, drumming his fingers against the counter.

The girl beamed once more. “That’s wonderful! I’m Lyndsay and I’ll be helping you find your new best friend.” She spoke as if she had rehearsed her lines in the bathroom mirror. It kind of annoyed Matty. “Adopting a pet is such an amazing experience.” She continued without missing a beat. “I’m just going to need to see some ID and I can take you back to meet everyone.”

Matty pulled his wallet from his back pocket and handed her his card. Lyndsay took her time entering whatever information she needed to enter into her computer, all whilst keeping a smile frozen on her face.

“Thank you, Matthew.” She handed him his card back, which he placed back into his wallet. “If you’ll follow me, please, I’ll take you into the kennels. If there’s anyone you’d like to meet, you can just let me know and I’ll show you where to go.” She rose from her chair and motioned him over to the door to the right of the receptionist’s, which Matty followed her behind. The barking grew intensely as they entered into the kennel. He forgot how heartbreaking it was to see all of the animals in their cages, most of them with terrified or miserable expressions.

“Are you looking for anything specific?” Lyndsay asked, stopping in front of one cage to allow a Golden Retriever named Rocky to lick her hand. All of the dog’s names were posted on the cages, as well as their breed and date they were brought in among other information.

“I’m looking for a dog for my best mate. Nothing small, and maybe a year or two old?” Matty told the girl, crouching down to greet a scraggly looking terrier. Lyndsay nodded, seeming to be thinking.

“I have a dog you might be interested in. If your friend is anything like you, it might be the perfect match.” She smiled, starting down towards the opposite wall of the kennel. Matty pushed himself to his feet and followed her, observing every dog he passed. When he got to where she was standing, he was greeted excitedly by a skinny black and white dog who put both paws on the cage door, his tongue hanging out of the side of his mouth. Matty smiled, and put his fingers through the chainlinks to pet the dog. “This is Adonis.” Lyndsay took the board from his cage and scanned the information. “He’s about a year and a half old. Not sure of his breed, but they say it’s mostly Border Collie. Neutered, shots are up to date, potty trained.” She read off as Matty crouched down to continue petting the pup.

“Is he good with other dogs?” He asked, hoping that Adonis would be able to get along with Allen.

“Yep. He was born on a farm with other dogs and animals. The previous owners said he was too energetic for them to keep track of, so they brought him here. I think they said they called him Spud?” She laughed softly, earning a grin from Matty as well. “But he’s a real lady killer, so we felt that Adonis fit him better.”

“Oh, that’s perfect.” Matty mumbled, scratching the dog behind the ear. “George is going to adore you.”

--

Two hours, a stack of paperwork, some excited peeing (from Adonis, not Matty) and £70 later, Adonis was sticking his head out the window of the backseat of Matty’s car as they departed from the shelter. He figured he would give the dog a little time to adjust to his new surroundings before he would invite George over to surprise him.

Adonis took to Matty’s flat quickly, spending at least 20 minutes racing back and forth across the floor before crashing on the couch for a nap. Much to Matty’s relief, the dog calmed down enough for the both of them to relax.

Sitting on the sofa and idly stroking Adonis’ soft fur, Matty decided he could be patient no longer. Sending George a text telling him to come over, Matty tossed his phone on the endtable and continued to run his fingers through the dog’s soft fur. “G will love you. I promise.” Matty told Adonis, mostly reassuring himself rather than the dog.

George responded shortly after, alerting Matty that he would be on his way, and Matty quickly attempted to find a place to hide the dog in order to surprise his mate. Ushering the dog into his bedroom, Matty closed the door and hoped Adonis wouldn’t bark upon hearing George come in. Lyndsay mentioned that the dog was “averagely trained” - whatever that meant. She didn’t even bother to explain what the dog was trained in. Sit? Stay? Could the dog pull Matty out of a burning building? Play chess? Maybe Adonis was a Harvard dropout. Who the hell knows. There would be time to figure all that out later on.

George didn’t bother with knocking or ringing the bell, letting himself in with a grin and “Honey I’m home!”

Matty greeted his mate with a hug before turning to say hello to Allen as well. The brown dog seemed to be interested in other things, pacing back and forth with his nose glued to the floor. Matty had to call his name a few times to get him to come. Dropping to his knees, Matty scratched Allen behind the ears with a smile. “I know, I know.” He spoke softly seeming to know exactly what the dog was thinking. There’s another dog here.

After a bit of small talk  between Matty and George, his mate was starting to catch on that there was something Matty wasn’t telling him. He could hardly sit still.

“Alright.” George placed his hands on the counter and eyed Matty down. “Who’s pregnant?” He asked, arching an eyebrow in question.

Matty nearly spat out the wine he had just taken a sip of. “What? Nobody’s pregnant? Why would you ask that?”

“Because you look like the cat that just ate the canary. What is it that you’re not telling me?”

Matty chewed his lip thoughtfully for a moment, before whistling Allen over. He grabbed ahold of the dog’s collar and asked George to hold him for a second while he ran upstairs.

George looked suspicious, but complied, bending over to hold onto Allen’s collar tightly.

Matty reached the top of the stairs and took a deep breath, turning the handle to his bedroom door and beckoning the other dog to come out.

Adonis dashed between Matty’s legs and down to the first floor, his nails skidding on the wood as he ran excitedly up to the other dog.

Following quickly behind, Matty took one glance at George’s expression and immediately turned as white as a ghost. “Uh, surprise?”

“You got another dog?” George asked, releasing Allen’s collar and crouching down to greet the mutt.

“Well…” Matty rubbed the back of his neck, returning to where he stood previously. “Technically I got you a dog.” Matty confessed, holding his breath as he waited for George’s response.

“Seriously? It’s mine? You got me a dog?” G broke out into a wide grin, scratching the black and white dog behind the ears. “Is it a he or a she? Does it have a name?”

Matty couldn’t help but smile as well. “You really like him? It’s a boy, by the way, and his name is Adonis.” He informed his mate, crouching down to pet him as well. Allen didn’t seem too jealous, curiously sniffing at the new dog with interest.

“Of course I like him. I can’t believe you got me a dog.”

“I was tired of you stealing Allen constantly, and I figured if you got a dog of your own you wouldn’t have a reason to.” Matty stroked the dog with a smile. “I was scared you’d freak out and get mad at me or-”

“He’s perfect.” George cut him off, a grateful smile on his face.

Matty’s heart filled with joy at the sight. Even though G got on Matty’s nerves more often than he’d like, there wasn’t a damn thing Matty wouldn’t do to see his best mate happy.

After a glass or two more of wine, George clipped a leash onto his new four-legged friend and showered Matty in another round of thank you’s before heading back to his own flat and starting his life with Adonis by his side.

Liking the dog turned to loving, and soon George and his pooch were inseparable. There were even times that Matty found himself jealous of their relationship.

But either way, G took Adonis almost everywhere he went. It was rare to find him without the black and white pup by his side.

Matty hadn’t seen his mate this happy in ages, and every time he watched the two of them together, he couldn’t understand why George had never wanted a dog of his own.

[ponyregrets]

Clarke POV for the queen's thief fic, pls and thanx

you know erin the anon who asked for this knew the name

Original fic here, alt-POV here!

It was probably stupid, to agree to crash with Bellamy in Vancouver, but if Clarke is going to get started with stupid decisions she's made in the whole Queen's Thief project, she's not sure crashing with Bellamy is really the place to start.

Probably she should start with the Alice-and-James episode of Marauders when she was sixteen, the first time she and Bellamy really worked together, when she realized he wasn't actually just hot, he was intelligent and sarcastic and perpetually grumpy, a great actor who took his job seriously but also made sure to text his baby sister every time they had a lull in filming. And they worked really well together, well enough to make her sad they didn't do it more often. But it wasn't--it was a crush, and it was a crush that lingered until the show ended, and popped back up when they'd run into each other again. Bellamy would keep on being awesome, and Clarke would keep on wondering what he'd say if she asked him to make out. It was a pretty good system, as far as she was concerned.

She'd nearly had a heart attack when he texted her out of nowhere, and her next stupid choice was probably agreeing to help him with the show, but--she liked the books, she liked the project, and she needed something to do. It was completely and totally the right choice for her career and her own mental well-being.

It's just stupid, because she's definitely falling in love with Bellamy, and she absolutely shouldn't be in his apartment in the morning, making her way to his kitchen in her pajamas, feeling close and intimate and far too much.

And that's before she sees him at the coffee machine, in his own flannel pants and a faded Batman t-shirt, before he turns and says, "Morning," in a rough, deep voice.

This is absolutely the stupidest thing she's ever done. Not even close.

"Coffee in a few minutes," he adds, pushing his glasses up when they slide down his nose, and that at least distracts her. She hasn't seen him in his glasses in years. She wasn't sure she was ever going to again.

"Wait, you really wear glasses?" she asks, delighted. "I thought that was a James Potter thing."

He adjusts them again, flushing a little. "No, they're mine. I usually wear contacts, but if I put them in before coffee I'd probably lose an eye."

"Hey, don't rush on my account," she teases. He looks so good in the morning, it should be illegal. People aren't supposed to look like that when they just rolled out of bed. He's soft and warm and the tangle of his hair looks so soft and perfect. "I like them," she continues, and can't help adding, "So, you really don't sleep shirtless, huh?"

He raises his eyebrows at her. "Neither do you."

"I figured I should make myself presentable for company," she says, prim. It's mostly true; she sleeps naked at home, but she always feels awkward doing it when she's staying with someone else. So she slept in her pajamas and it took forever to drift off, less because she was unaccustomed to wearing clothes and more because she was aware of being in Bellamy's space, aware of how close he was and how easy it would be to go to his room.

Which probably is why she goes to stand next to him at the coffee machine; if they're going to be close, she wants to be close. She'll be back in LA soon, and she's going to miss him so much.

"Oh, trust me," he says, with a friendly leer. "I think shirtless people are always presentable."

"Maybe tomorrow," she says, bumping her hip against his. Normal friend stuff, definitely. This is what people do. "What do you have for breakfast?"

"Not much, sorry. I haven't had time to go shopping this week."

"The busy life of the Hollywood A-lister," she teases, and he snorts.

"I don't think any of the Hollywood A-listers live in Vancouver. This is basically B-list Hollywood." The coffee finishes, and he grabs two mugs, adds sugar and milk for both of them. "I might have cereal? And eggs? We can go out."

"Aren't you a good cook or something?"

"I never said I was cooking for you," he says. "You were just assuming. I usually eat at craft services."

"You're not even supposed to be on set for hours."

"I go in early."

"Well, you have guests," she says, and pushes herself off the counter so she can look in his fridge. "I can make eggs."

"You know how to make eggs?"

He sounds way too dubious, and she scowls over her shoulder. "Eggs are easy, Bellamy. Anyone can make eggs."

"Tell me how you think you make eggs. Before I let you near my stove. Or my fridge. Basically anything I own."

"You can supervise," she says, without thinking about it, and of course he does, and it is, honestly, the most embarrassingly domestic shit. And they do it every time Clarke visits, and it's so fucking easy that she feels like she shouldn't even go back home. Not when she could be with him.

"You know you could talk to him, right?" Wells asks. It's two days before Thanksgiving, and Clarke might be moping a little. She was hoping Bellamy would be back in LA, but his sister's family decided to go to him instead, and she felt like it would be weird to invite herself along. Plus, her mom would be upset. But mostly--weird.

"I talk to him all the time," she tells him. "We're in constant contact."

"I meant about this," says Wells. "You're an adult. Adults talk about their feelings. You'd feel better."

"That sounds like something someone who's happily in a relationship would say," she grumbles.

"How do you think I got into a happy relationship? I talked to Maya and told her I was interested and she was too and now we're dating. That's how it's supposed to go. That's how it would go with you and Bellamy."

"You think?" she asks, and hates herself for how hopeful she sounds. Then again, she's talking about the equivalent of a high-school crush. So she's probably not supposed to feel mature about it. "Scratch that. It's not important. I'm not going to talk to him about it because we're working together, and the show's more important."

"It's really not." He squeezes her shoulder. "And even if it was, you could still work with him, right? And if you couldn't, you don't need to work with him this much. You don't have to be as involved in the show as you are."

This is, of course, completely true, but it doesn't make Clarke feel better. She likes being way too involved in the show. She loves her job.

It's just that her feelings for Bellamy are heavily involved in that love. She loves that it's theirs.

"Maybe we won't get a season two," she offers. "Then it won't be an issue."

"Sure, if you want. But I saw that video of you two at the upfronts," he adds, unimpressed. "I'm pretty sure it's not an issue either way."

*

"You must be Clarke!"

Clarke recognizes Bellamy's sister and her family from Bellamy's ten-thousand pictures of them, and just like in those pictures, they feel intimidatingly perfect and vaguely unreal. Which she knows is a weird way to feel for someone who works in the entertainment business, but--Octavia Blake really has the life they're always working on selling. She's a young, beautiful woman with a perfect husband, an adorable child, and a doing older brother.

Clarke isn't jealous of her, not exactly, but she's a little intimidated. Octavia Blake seems to know exactly who she is and what she wants, and, unlike Clarke, she actually has it.

"What, I don't even get a hello?" Bellamy asks, but he can't keep the smile out of his voice. "Clarke, my sister Octavia, her husband Lincoln, and--where's the baby?"

"Asleep, so you can't hold her yet, weirdo," says Octavia. She gives Bellamy a hug, and then hesitates for half a second before giving Clarke one too. "It's so great to finally meet you!"

"You too," says Clarke. "Thanks for inviting me."

"I've been telling him to bring you over, like, every time he's been in LA for months."

"We've been busy," Bellamy grumbles, like he isn't grinning ear to ear. "You want to meet the dog, right? She's the real draw."

"Obviously. I see humans all the time."

The dog is an enthusiastic bundle of energy that looks like some sort of collie mix, and she is very, very excited to make a new friend in Clarke. They have a billion toys for her, and Clarke is happy to be on frisbee duty, both to get out of interacting with the baby, and--far more importantly--to get out of seeing Bellamy interact with the baby. He's nothing but big smile and careful attention when it comes to his niece, and Clarke does not need to see that. It's actively bad for her.

They have a picnic lunch, because, again, this is the most wholesome shit, and once they're done, Kira wanders around in the grass with Bellamy and Lincoln supervising, Clarke goes to play with the dog, and Octavia comes to talk to her.

Which she was expecting. She's not nervous.

"How's the show going?" she asks.

Clarke smiles. "Great. I assume Bellamy doesn't shut up about it."

"Not on the phone, but as soon as he's actually here all he can think about is the baby."

"Yeah, she's going to be the most spoiled kid in the world if he has his way," she says, unable to keep a fond smile off her face.

"I'm pretty sure that's Bell's actual dream," Octavia muses. "Having enough money to just give everyone in the world he loves everything they want."

"No," Clarke says, without thinking. "Not everything. He cares too much about--not to sound like a dick, but Bellamy actually knows the value of hard work. He wants her to have enough, not to have it all."

Octavia hums, and Clarke realizes that was absolutely a weird thing to say. Just because she's pretty sure it's true, doesn't mean it's not weird.

"But she's going to have the best Christmases and birthdays ever," she adds quickly, before Octavia can say anything else. "That's for sure."

"And you haven't even seen what's under our Christmas tree yet." Her smile is a little too sly and knowing for Clarke's comfort, but it's not like she was really expecting to hide her massive crush from Octavia. It's enough of a miracle she's apparently hiding it from Bellamy. "You're coming, right? For Christmas Eve. Bell said he invited you."

"If you're sure," she says. "It's Kira's first Christmas, right? I don't want to--it's a family thing."

"Yup," Octavia agrees, bright. "So you're definitely coming."

She's the most obvious person in the world. "Yeah. I'll be there."

Bellamy comes and picks her up for Christmas Eve, and they have a nice dinner and end up getting talked into staying the night. Bellamy makes her take the guest room while he crashes on the couch, and she has to stop herself at least three times from going out and dragging him back to share with her before she finally drifts off.

Kira has about fifty billion presents in the morning, and Clarke watches Octavia and Lincoln help her open them while she sits next to Bellamy on the couch, warm and close and so perfect it makes her heart ache. This is what she wants. Everything else is a bonus.

They do hugs all around before they take off, and Octavia gives Clarke an extra-tight squeeze and says, "So, same time next year?"

It feels so dangerous. But all she can say is, "Yeah. Can't wait."

*

Boston sucks.

Okay, it's not Boston, Boston didn't do anything wrong. It's not Boston's fault. It's just that Bellamy is finally back in LA now that the first season has wrapped, and Clarke could be there with him, getting started on the second season they don't even have yet, and instead she's actually farther away from him, in a different timezone, and they have enough trouble coordinating just watching the show together, let alone anything else.

So when she gets a call from the network a week before they're set to wrap filming to tell her they've decided to pick up the show and will be sending her paperwork for her and Bellamy on Monday, she figures--that's the kind of news she should share in person, right? They don't need her on-set for the last week. They'll be fine.

It's less than twenty-four hours before she's on his doorstep, shifting from one foot to the other, giddy with excitement about getting to see him and getting to share the news.

So, of course, her phone buzzes, and she's incapable of not checking it. Maybe the old people are right, and modern technology really is ruining everything. This is a big moment, and she's probably going to be distracted by putting out some fire across the country.

Bellamy: Why is someone at my house?

Then again, maybe not.

Me: I don't know why you think I'd knowAre they in your house?Call the police if you're about to be stabbed

Bellamy: DoorbellI never get visitors

Me: Dial 9-1-1 so you're ready to hit send if it's someone who wants to murder you

Bellamy: Thanks

Me: Life hack

She hits the doorbell one more time for good measure, and he answers a second later. He clearly wasn't expecting visitors, because he's wearing his Hufflepuff pajama pants, a Schuyler sisters t-shirt, and his glasses, with a good two days of stubble, staring at her in open disbelief.

Clarke loves him so much it's unreal.

"Did you know I am actually the best producer in the world?" she asks. "Because I got us picked up for another season. Already. So any time you want to--"

She just sees the flash of his smile for a second, and then his hands are cupping her face and his mouth is on hers, warm and solid and perfect. At first, she can't even respond, too busy trying to catalog everything: the feel of his thumb against her jaw, the lingering flavor of his toothpaste, the slight tremor in his hands like he's nervous this isn't okay.

And then she's grinning into it, guiding him inside without breaking the contact, pushing his door closed with her foot. He doesn't waste any time, trapping her up against it and sliding his tongue against her lips until she opens for him, and it's so, so good, it's everything she wanted--

Except she needs to be sure.

He slides away, pressing kisses down her jaw to her throat, and her breath comes out rough and shaky. She could fuck him first, right? Even if he's just happy they got renewed, there's nothing wrong with a quick celebratory bang with the guy you're in love with.

"If I knew I just had to get the show renewed for you to make a move, I would have worked harder on it," she manages. It feels safe.

He gives her a gentle bite where her jaw meets her neck. "It was the leaving for two months. Fuck, I missed you."

She lets out a relieved laugh, but it's not quite all the way there. "As long as it's not just enthusiasm for the second season. Maybe you do this to all your producers."

Bellamy must hear it too, because he pulls back, giving her a soft, warm smile. "I've been trying to figure out how to tell you how I feel for--way too long. You getting back was my deadline. I was going to try to come up with a speech."

She kind of collapses into his arms, which would be embarrassing, but he doesn't seem to care. Honestly, he seems just as relieved as she does to have it cleared up, nuzzling and kissing her hair, rubbing her back, just holding onto her too.

Obvious is probably kind of relative. That's what everyone's been telling her. It wasn't obvious to them.

She kisses his shoulder. "That was weird, right? I made it weird."

He laughs. "You do keep telling me you suck at personal relationships. I should have believed you." This kiss is softer, warmer, less raw passion. Which is fine. She likes passion, of course. But she's pretty sure they can have hot, desperate teenage make-out sessions once they're done with feelings. "I don't mind establishing that I'm in love with you," he says, mouth quirking into a smile. "I definitely am. I was planning to lead with that."

Her life is awesome. "I had a crush on you when I was sixteen," she admits, laughing into his shoulder.

"Yeah?"

"You were hot! You were my go-to yes, I'm definitely into guys guy for like five years. Not that I--" she can't help adding. "I got over it. For a while. I wasn't weirdly pining or anything."

"Glad you stopped getting over it," he says, and Clarke really has to agree.

*

She's on their couch with her feet in Bellamy's lap while he plays some weird imported Japanese RPG Monty recommended when she gets the call about the third season. She gestures for him to mute the game.

"Hey, Roan."

"Clarke. How's the boyfriend?"

"Unshaven, unshowered, generally a giant nerd. How are you?"

"Much the same, although something less of a nerd. And my beard is both richer and more deliberate than his."

Clarke didn't sell the show to Roan just because they're sort of weird friends, but it was definitely a connection she mercilessly leveraged. It helps that he likes the show, of course. But she's also awesome at networking.

"If your jawline was as good as his, you wouldn't want to hide it either."

"Yes, I'm sure that's it and not just that he's unable to grow real facial hair."

"Miller grows out his beard every hiatus just so he'll be jealous, yeah." Bellamy raises his eyebrows, and Clarke just grins. "Did you have something to say, or do you just want to talk shit about my boyfriend?"

"Both. We're giving you the third season. Be prepared for a lot of fights about how much you're allowed to focus on Costis."

"I've already got an actor lined up for him. John Murphy. I promise we're going to make it work."

"I believe you. That's why you're renewed. Paperwork on Monday, official announcement in a month. Tell Bellamy congratulations."

"Will do. Later, Roan."

"That sounded friendly," says Bellamy, careful. "I assume that means good news."

"Third season," she says, climbing into his lap for a long kiss. "And you already confessed your love after the first renewal, so I don't know how you're going to top that."

He doesn't miss a beat. "I've got a ring in the dresser. If Roan had warned me, I would have had it ready, but--"

"Seriously?" Clarke asks.

His shrug isn't as fluid as he wants, and he's not looking at her. "If you want. If you don't, it's not--"

She kisses him again, warm and deep and joyful, and he tugs her closer. "You know you don't have to time all of our relationship milestones with the show, right?" she teases.

"I know. But we might as well do it for as long as we can, right?"

She laughs. "We definitely can't coordinate the wedding with a fourth season pickup."

"Nah. But I bet we can figure something out."

"Yeah," she agrees. "No problem."

[murdocksassassin]

Pieces of The Night

@oriley42 

I blame you for this shit!

Pieces of The Night

Foggy and Matt have a missed connection on his twenty-third birthday while listening to 90's alt rock.

Read it HERE or below the cut

Pieces of The Night

“Tell me do you think it'd be all right If I could just crash here tonight You can see I'm in no shape for driving And anyway I've got no place to go”

Foggy’s voice began to crack painfully as he stretched out the “O” on the word “go,” but it made Matt laugh beside him so it was worth the embarrassment. He leaned back on his hands, letting his feet dangle off of the dock above the frigid water below. Matt flopped onto his back haphazardly.

“Dude, I am so glad you decided to become a lawyer instead of a singer,” he quipped.

“What? Are you knocking my version of the Gin Blossom’s classic?” Foggy demanded in mock indignation. Truth be told, he would butcher every song on the 90’s top one hundred if it made Matt smile these days. He let himself fall back a little further until his shoulder was brushed up against Matt’s and stared at his friend’s profile.

Matt shrugged. “It’s better than mine would be.”

“Mmm… I’ve got to be better at something than you are...well, besides driving,” Foggy teased.

“You’re such a dick.” Matt chuckled and turned his face towards Foggy. “That’s part of the reason I love you.”

Foggy’s chest suddenly felt tight and his mouth was dry. It wasn’t the first time Matt had said something along those lines, but every time he did, Foggy could feel the tiny hands of hope clawing at his insides. Watching Matt pull away from him while he’d been with Elektra had nearly killed him, but ultimately it was something he could deal with. Maybe Foggy wasn’t the person that Matt was meant to be with, but damn if he didn’t deserve someone who loved him as much. For a second, Foggy thought his friend had found his other half at that cheesy faculty party. He could accept it even if it hurt.But now that Elektra was gone… Well, hope was an absolute bitch, wasn’t she? She’d keep dangling the fucking carrot in front of his eyes, and Foggy would run after it every single damn time.

“Just part of the reason?” Foggy prompted as he nudged at Matt’s shoulder softly.

The corners of Matt’s lips edged upwards. He was about to speak just as it sounded like a buffalo was charging down the dock. Foggy rolled his eyes at Marci’s timing and tried not to actually groan out loud at the impressively timed cock-block.

“Bottoms up, bitches. I didn’t just pay one of the neighbors to drive me on a beer run for nothing, and we are not spending Matty’s birthday sober,” she announced cheerfully as she dropped a couple of cases of Lionshead beside them. She grabbed a can and tossed it to Foggy before handing one to Matt. “What boring shit did you two get into while I was gone?”

“Foggy was singing to me,” Matt said, popping the tab on his beer.

Marci arched a brow at Foggy questioningly, and he felt his cheeks burning. “I’m really glad I missed that,” she snarked.

“Thanks for asking your parents to open up the house for us, by the way,” Matt continued on. “You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s as good as excuse as any to get the fuck out of dodge,” she replied. “Hey, Foggy-Bear, I have a CD player up at the house. Want to go up and get it with me?”

Fighting back the urge to tell her to go get it herself, Foggy chugged his beer and skulked off behind her sullenly. “What was that look for?” he demanded once they were out of ear shot.

“Uh, seriously? Serenading the object of your undying affection is a bit corny, even for you,” she added as she slid open the screen door to the downstairs game room. She pointed to the massive wall of alphabetized music.“Grab a few CD’s…And no fucking Smashing Pumpkins this time!”

As Foggy ran his finger along the spines of each CD, he couldn’t help but shake his head at just how grossly perfect the place was. The Stahl summer home in the Finger Lakes was big enough to fit the house Foggy had grown up in at least four times and then some. The game room alone was a near palace by his standards, but the way Marci acted you’d think the place was a dump. She didn’t understand how Matt and Foggy could seem so impressed—and maybe even a tad jealous—when they’d arrived. Didn’t everyone’s basement have a pool table, Foosball table, and wet bar? And he didn’t even want to think about the gourmet kitchen and five bedrooms each the size of Queens above them.

He grabbed five or six of the better albums and shoved them into the biggest pocket of his cargo pants. Marci was pulling a massive “portable” stereo from the closet, and he did the gentlemanly thing by grabbing it for her. The damn thing weighed a ton.

“What’d you grab?” she asked, giving him an accusatory stare.

“Nothing your highness will object to,” he replied sarcastically. He wasn’t going to fess up that Mellon Collie and The Infinite Sadness was tucked in amongst his selections between Flogging Molly and Our Lady Peace.

On their way back, Foggy suddenly noticed that Matt wasn’t sitting on the dock where he had been. He scanned the surrounding area quickly, and his heart lodged in his throat when he didn’t see him anywhere. He didn’t worry on a day-to-day basis that Matt would get hurt, but he was in a strange place right against the water... Foggy nearly dropped the stereo in relief when he caught sight of Matt standing at the water’s edge a ways down from the dock. He was crouched down with his fingers in the waves as they lapped against the rocks.

Marci heaved a sigh beside him. “Give it to me! Go talk to your boyfriend. He looks like he wants to go head first into the lake, and I don’t think my parents would ever let me have friends here again if a blind guy drowned on my watch.”

Foggy had to force himself not to run the whole way over to where Matt was now standing wiping his hands on his jeans. He cocked his head toward where Foggy stood, but didn’t say anything. From how his jaw was clenched, Foggy couldn’t help but wonder if he’d somehow overheard them.

“You okay, man?” he asked.

Matt shrugged. “Worried I was about to walk over the edge?”

“Dude… Don’t act like that, okay? I know you’re not helpless, but it’s friend’s prerogative to worry every now and again.”

“Sorry,” Matt said with a sigh. “Didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“Look, I know you don’t want to talk about Elektra...” Foggy began.

“Damn right I don’t!”

“So you really don’t want to,” the blond amended, rolling his eyes. “But did you ever think you might need to? Whatever toxic shit is rolling around in your head can’t be healthy.”

“I just...” Matt began and then simply shook his head. “I just couldn’t be what she wanted. It’s that simple. Nothing to talk about. Let’s go grab a beer.”

That evening the three of them sat around a fire pit near the dock and finished off the case of cheap beer while listening to the CD’s Foggy had picked. Marci threw an empty beer can at him the second the he popped in his beloved Pumpkins while Matt laughed at their antics. On the surface, it almost seemed like he’d shaken off his earlier mood, but if Foggy had learned one thing about Matt in their five year friendship, he’d learned that Matt Murdock could hide the emotional equivalent of being eviscerated beneath those dark glasses of his and a half-cocked grin. Even so, Foggy kept the jokes cracking the whole time they drank whileMarci did her part by letting the bitchy comments fly, and Matt kept smiling.

The beer was mostly gone by the time Marci popped New Miserable Experience by The Gin Blossoms into the player. Foggy immediately wanted to kick his own ass for grabbing it. In the back of his drunken mind, he could remember Matt saying that it had been his dad’s favorite album. Fuck me for getting “Hey Jealousy” stuck in my head, he thought as the opening track rolled. Surprisingly though, Matt’s grin looked genuine for the first time that evening.

“Can you put on the ninth track and turn it up?” he asked.

Marci let out a high pitched giggle that could only mean she was one beer away from puking. “You gonna sing for us too, Murdock? Or does Foggy have to do all the work?”

“I’m not that drunk yet,” Matt chuckled.

“In that case,” she said, getting unsteadily to her feet and shoving a beer in his empty hand, “have another one on me.”

It wasn’t until the eleventh track came on that Matt made good on his to sing. His voice was low and off-key, and it fucking broke Foggy’s heart into a thousand bits to hear.

“Is it any wonder that the stars just don't rush by When you're only doin' 60 through this oh-so-vacant night But it's lacking something big this time What the hell did you expect to find Aphrodite on a barstool by your side”

He paused at the last line of the verse and repeated it. “Aprhodite on a fucking barstool all right.” He dropped his head and shook it before wiping a hand across his face. Foggy couldn’t tell if he was crying at all. “Fuck. I’m too drunk for this song. Mind putting on something a little happier?”

“1979” crept from the speakers, but the mood had been blown to shit and there wasn’t a damned thing anyone could do about it. As the only sober-ish one amongst them, Foggy grabbed a bucket of water from the lake and poured it over the dying coals of their fire. The last of their fifteen dollar cases of beer couldn’t get any worse for staying out all night, and he opted to carry the stereo in his free hand as he led Matt back up to the house. Matt was half draped over Foggy’s shoulder, making things a bit difficult, but he didn’t care. It felt damned good to have Matt pressed up against him.

They made it up the steps to the guestrooms only having stumbled a few times. Foggy deposited Matt on the edge of the bed and watched as his friend sank bonlessly like a half-deflated blow-up doll. It only took Foggy a half second to decide that Matt wasn’t up for taking care of himself that night. He unzipped Matt’s sweatshirt and struggled to pull it off with very little help. Thankfully—or maybe not, Foggy couldn’t decide—he was more helpful when it came to stripping off his jeans. Flopping like a drunk tuna, Matt patted at the space beside him on the king sized mattress. Foggy ignored the voice inside that told him it was a bad idea and joined him.

“Sorry for being such a fucking buzz kill,” Matt murmured, slurring the edges of his words.

Foggy shrugged. “S’okay, buddy. It’s your birthday. I think it’s kind of an iron-clad law that you can do whatever you want to.”

“Thanks for trying to make me feel better. There’s another reason for you,” Matt said with a smirk.

“Reason for?” Foggy’s beer clouded mind couldn’t quite put together the pieces.

“Reasons I love you,” Matt clarified.

Foggy’s heart felt like it was going to beat out of his damned chest, but he couldn’t stop himself from saying what he did next. “You know I really do love you, Matt,” he confessed. He pushed himself up on one elbow and stared down at the man beside him. “Anyone who doesn’t, doesn’t deserve you. You deserve so much better than the shit that you’ve been handed so far… better than her.”

Matt’s expression softened, and he raised a hand that had probably been intended to rest on Foggy’s shoulder but awkwardly landed on his cheek instead. The blind man frowned at first at his lack of coordination before he began to trace his fingers along Foggy’s jawline. Foggy felt the breath in his lungs leave in one swift whoosh, but he couldn’t for the life of him draw another breath as Matt’s fingertips trailed across his bottom lip. He instinctively positioned himself closer and was almost ready to move in for the kiss when Matt began to laugh.

“I don’t deserve a friend like you. If you knew me better, you’d know how fucking ridiculous it is. But god help me, I’m glad you don’t know,” he muttered, near incoherently.

Foggy’s mouth moved, but he couldn’t seem to form words. Ironically enough, it wouldn’t have mattered one way or another what he said from that point on because Matt was snoring on his pillow. Foggy cussed violently as he slid off Matt’s glasses and set them on the night side table. For once, he wasn’t worried that he’d wake Matt. Foggy gave his sleeping friend one last look over his shoulder as he turned out the light and locked the door.

“Fuck you, Aphrodite,” he grumbled angrily on his way down the hall to his own room.

[rilenerocks]

I am presently on a lengthy road trip with my son. Our itinerary is ambitious – by the time we return home in sixteen days, we’ll have driven over 4000 miles. I’ve always loved being on the road. So much to see and experience. I feel like I’ve really challenged myself with this one. I’ve had one knee replacement surgery but the other one is ahead of me so hiking is a bit of a stretch. But I don’t want to squander my general good health at this age, and most certainly, not my mental fortitude which fires me to keep ticking items off my to do list. During this trip, we’re covering history and nature. My son has committed himself to making good memories with me which is a perfectly understandable plan after going through the unexpected loss of his dad two years ago. The two of us are well-suited to traveling together as we share similar musical taste and are both eager to learn as we roll along. In our typically dorky fashion, we’re listening to some Great Courses he selected, one on the greatest geological sites in the world and the other on mythology. We’re self-actualizing together. It’s pretty entertaining.

Yet on Day 4, we diverged from new shared experiences to one that I most especially planned into this trip. It all began with a book. When I was growing up, if I wasn’t outside playing and exploring, I almost always had a book in my hands. I was an indiscriminate reader – there was virtually nothing I wouldn’t read from long tomes to cereal boxes. At home, the big joke was that I read all the books on our one measly book shelf and when I was finished, I went back to the top shelf and started over. I had a tendency to pick a topic and read everything about it. I read about the presidents. I read biographies about athletes. I would find an author I liked and then read every book that person wrote. I started reading about the Civil War when I was about eleven and haven’t stopped since. When my son and I drove within the proverbial stone’s throw from Gettysburg, I found it hard to pass by. I’ve been there before. Whatever a religious experience is supposed to be, I think I had one on that battlefield. Images that I inferred from reading dozens of books about those days in July of 1863 seemed as real to me as if I’d been there at the time. That visit evoked some of the most powerful emotions I think you can get from just being in a place. I

When I was about 11, I came upon a book by Albert Payson  Terhune called Lad: A Dog. We’d had a collie mix when I was a few years younger but we gave him up when we moved from Iowa to Chicago and an apartment. No dogs allowed. So reading about Lad’s life and adventures struck a chord in me. Terhune wrote other books about Bruce and Treve and Gray Dawn, but Lad and his extended family always were my favorite. I must have read that book a hundred times. I still have a copy on the shelf by my bed. One day, maybe a dozen years ago I was at work, tired of my current task and in need of a break. Lad’s imaginary home was called Sunnybank and I just decided to type the name into my computer to see what came up. I was totally floored to discover that the Lad and other collie books were not fiction. Terhune was a collie breeder who lived on a big swath of land in Wayne, New Jersey. A graduate of Columbia University, he was also a journalist and novelist. He started writing during the late 1800’s and continued for decades.

As I scrolled incredulously through the website, I found myself looking at photos of Lad and the other collies, their home, their lake, their special places. And the dogs were buried on the grounds of Terhune’s property. I was dumbfounded at first but that quickly turned into obsession. I needed to be at that place. I just couldn’t figure out a trip to New Jersey at that point in my life when I had so many responsibilities and so many other places to knock off my list. This trip was the right time for finally realizing my dream. Today, on the way to Cape May, my dream came true.

Terhune Memorial Park is a beautiful, serene place located on Lake Pompton in Wayne, New Jersey. The grounds are well-tended and the mature trees are alive with birds, chipmunks and squirrels. The house succumbed to fire some years ago but there is a museum in town which has artifacts from it and the dogs’ careers. I was interested in the graves. As we entered the park, my kid, a biologist and bird specialist pointed out several lifers, first time bird spotting for me. I quickly selected a favorite tree, a purple European beech with beautiful leaves and a gorgeous trunk.

While he pointed his binoculars at the sky, I walked from grave to grave, from stone bench to stone bench, recalling all the stories of the dogs’ lives, especially Lad’s. I surprised myself by dissolving in tears as I found myself racing back almost 60 years in time to those days when I began gobbling up those books. As I then reversed direction, moving back to the present, I realized how the books shaped the choices in my life. The majority of my dogs were collie mixes, most of whom looked exactly like pure collies.

My beloved Flash, my dog who I suspect was the dog of my life, looked just like Lad. My current dog Violet is a rescued purebred, my first one with papers and championships which mean nothing to me as I think she was abused. In the two years that I’ve had her she’s turned from a vacant alienated creature to a real dog. You can actually teach old ones new tricks. I think of Michael constantly teasing me about my “intellectual, psychological dogs,” who were always looking me in the eyes and trying to figure out what I needed. He was right. I wanted my dogs to be just like Lad whose gravestone reads: A Thoroughbred in Body and Soul. I wove those books into the fabric of me where they remained an influence in my life’s choices. I hope books can still do that for children, letting them build life visions from the inside out. Today was another religious experience for me. I’m glad that what came from reading can still stir such powerful feelings. And that a park by a lake can fill your soul, at least for awhile. I’m grateful to be that person.

The Books of Your Life I am presently on a lengthy road trip with my son. Our itinerary is ambitious - by the time we return home in sixteen days, we’ll have driven over 4000 miles.

[jaketheaudiophile]

Best Albums of 2018.

This is the thing I look forward to most every year. I probably start internally ranking albums after purchasing them and have a conversation with friends and fellow musicians about their favorite releases starting in September. 

I personally thought 2018 was a very good year for music, and already have some stuff I’m excited about in 2019. Let’s just jump right in.

HONORABLE MENTION

TTNG: “Animals Acoustic” released October 5 via Sargent House

It doesn’t feel right to consider this a “true” new album since it’s only an acoustic reworking of TTNG / This Town Needs Guns’ seminal debut album. However, this is more than just a re-release; there’s unique, varied instrumentation added cleverly to every song, including strings, pianos and The Kraken Quartet on percussion. It also never gets old hearing Stu Smith sing again or hearing Tim Collis recreate his wizardry on an acoustic guitar. It feels like a brand new thing, which is impressive considering the source material is a decade old.

#15.

The Decemberists: “I’ll Be Your Girl” released March 16 via Capitol / Rough Trade

Props to my buddy Branden for recommending this, but in general Decemberists albums are an automatic purchase for me. I wasn’t crazy about their last few releases (particularly the collaborative Offa Rex LP) so I wasn’t completely up to date on their current activities, but this is another solid entry into a pretty stellar catalogue of music. The lead single “Severed” is a bit of a curveball, but it shouldn’t scare off old fans. In a strange way, this album is a reinvention of sorts but also a harkening back to the songwriting and cleverness that made these alt-rockers famous (”Everything is Awful”, “Once in My Life”). Perfect for old and new fans.

#14.

The Wonder Years: “Sister Cities” released April 6 via Hopeless Records

I can’t quite put my finger on it, but this is probably my least favorite Wonder Years album. It should have worked perfectly on paper: The old pop-punkers expand their sound and influences and graduate to a new level of maturity and success. And in a way, this is exactly that. However, the last half of the album, particularly the closing track, “The Ocean Grew Hands to Hold Me” just feels uninspired and lazy. There’s something to be said for purposeful dynamic choices, and that was something these Philly rockers nailed on previous releases. Still, TWY are master craftsmen, and there are a few great songs and moments throughout this record (”Pyramids of Salt” in particular), but this feels more like a transitionary phase than a masterpiece.

#13.

Mouse on the Keys: “tres” released May 23 via Topshelf Records

Japanese jazz aficionados Mouse on the Keys were a relatively new band for me this year, and their latest record certainly lives up to hype that I’ve seen them receiving. Bringing in a strong, varied collection of guest musicians works out splendidly at times (such as vocalist Dominique Fils-Aime, who absolutely kills it on “Stars”, and CHON wunderkind Mario Camarena’s solo on “Time”) and falls slightly flat at others (unfortunately, La Dispute’s Jordan Dreyer’s spoken word contributions to “Shapeless Man”). When left to their own devices, however, the skills and performances of these three dudes are admirable (”One Hundred Twenty”). The album feels a bit more of a collection of ideas than a full record, but is still worth checking out for any technical music or jazz fans.

#12.

mewithoutYou: “Untitled” released October 5 via Run For Cover Records

This album is a textbook example of what could have easily been a classic, or even an album of the year contender. However, it seems like these Philly indie rock mainstays lost all momentum halfway through and ended not with a bang, but with a whimper. The last two songs on this album are basically useless and meandering. It also seems like the band tried to get in the headspace of their earliest material, maybe pulling some influence on a few album anniversary tours, which is a welcome return to form (”9:27A.m., 7/29″). With that in mind, why are Aaron Weiss’ vocals so low in the mix or drowning in effects to make them unrecognizable? His poetic lyrics are what make so many fans keep coming back, so the choice to completely smother them is an odd one. The highs of this album are here, but they are too dragged down by the uninspired lows to make this a completely stellar record. I hold these guys to a pretty high standard, though, so maybe I’m more critical than most here.

#11.

Between The Buried and Me: “Automata I” and “Automata II” released March 9 and July 13 via Sumerian Records

It doesn’t feel right to separate these albums as its considered one long story and they really do work in tandem. Personally, I like Automata I a smidge more, but they are both pretty damn good. I is a more traditional metal (with the exception of the the epic Dream Theater-esque closer “Blot”) and II allows the band to sow their wild oats a bit, worshipping at the altars of Queen and Danny Elfman at times. Regardless, this is a mammoth achievement for these metal titans, who seemingly never seem to run out of ideas for brilliant, varied albums. Some songs are a bit overlong, and the few purely filler tracks may be a tad unnecessary, but it’s still a rewarding listen.

#10.

Horrendous: “Idol” released September 28 via Season of Mist

Perhaps the only disappointing part of this technical death metal release is the fact that it’s only 40 minutes long. Most bands in this genre would be content to tease out a riff or interlude and create a 12-minute song, but not these guys. Not that there are a lack of ideas; they’re just packed in so tightly and laser-focused to make every track feel adventurous, varied and finely tuned. Combined with one of the most unique vocalists I’ve ever heard (the most apt comparison is “Wolfman transforming from Wolfman back into man”), the listener is left with an album that truly leaves them wanting more. Also, kudos for the creepy Clive Barker-esque cover art.

#9.

Mom Jeans.: “Puppy Love” released July 3 on Counter Intuitive Records

Mom Jeans. scratch an itch I’ve always had for quality emo music and nicely fill a void You Blew It! left when they broke up last year. There’s certainly not a ton of brand new ideas on display in their music, but its earnestness and heart make up for it. I’m willing to overlook a few cliche moments (the acoustic album closing cut, the more-or-less straight up rip off of Weezer’s “The Sweater Song” on “Glamorous”) and instead be grateful that tracks like “Sponsor Me Tape” and “Pickle Bart” took up permanent residency in my head for most of the year. Keep doing what you’re doing.

#8.

Delta Sleep: “Ghost City” released August 10 via Big Scary Monsters

Longtime friends may remember that Delta Sleep’s 2015 effort “Twin Galaxies” was my favorite album of that year. The bar was set pretty high for the follow-up, and for the most part, they delivered. The production is top-notch, the arrangements are all over the place but locked in and expertly performed, and the band cements their status as one of the best in the genre. Unfortunately, there are just a bit too many filler tracks and interlude cuts to really make it stand out, and they tend to make me either skip songs or not want to jump back into the album. This is particularly odd as I didn’t mind this much on their last record or previous EPs, but I feel like they need to ditch this particular crutch in the future. Again, I’m most critical of the bands and groups I adore the most, so maybe I’m nitpicking. This is a really fun record (“After Dark” and “El Pastor”) and is certainly worth your time.

#7.

Tangled Hair: “We Do What We Can” released March 16 via Big Scary Monsters

Without overhyping it, this was easily one of my most anticipated releases for 2018, and something I was hoping for for several years. I quite enjoyed the two EPs this British math rock trio had previously released, and was a huge fan of Colour, a legendary group two of Tangled Hair were a part of. This album did live up to these hopes and dreams, but sadly the last third was lacking that extra “oomph” to make this a perfect record. That said, the drum work of James Trood is well varied and creative (”Keep Doing What You’re Doing”, “Yeah, It Does Look Like a Spider”) and while not full of over-the-top tapping riffs, the songs and riffs have a fun technicality to them (”Nao is my Driver”, “Catalina”). Tangled Hair have a way of crafting songs that don’t beat you over the head with their musicianship but incentivize the listener to pick them apart and then be amazed. This is why I’m a fan, and why I adore this record. Hopefully a US tour is their next big step.

#6.

Antarctigo Vespucci: “Love in the Time of E-Mail” released October 26 via Polyvinyl

For those unfamiliar (which included myself until I heard “Freakin’ U Out” through Anthony Fantano), Antartigo Vespucci is a project made up of Chris Farren (Fake Problems) and Jeff Rosenstock. I have never been a huge fan (mainly out of ignorance) of either’s previous work, but that seems to be at my detriment because I really, really love this record. It’s minimalistic, straightforward and effective. Most songs aren’t longer than 2 minutes and are chock full of hooks and fun instrumentation (”Kimmy”, “Breathless on DVD”) that keep you coming back. The word that resonates and fits most for this record is “sharp”. The songwriting, production and attitude is such. It’s a truly fun little release that came out of nowhere for me.

#5.

Tiny Moving Parts: “Swell” released January 26 via Triple Crown Records

I’m quite impressed with the consistency of these Minnesota rockers. They seem to crank out a quality record every 18 months or so, and their latest offering is no exception. It’s airtight and jam packed with energy and emotion, not to mention the occasional insane guitar tapping lick (”Feel Alive”, “Caution”). Perhaps not as polished as 2016′s “Celebrate” but still damn good. Damn damn good good (”Applause”, “Wishbone”). Anything these guys put out seems to be a lock to be in my Top 5 every time until proven otherwise.

#4.

Justin Courtney Pierre: “In The Drink” released October 12 via Epitaph Records

Like most people, I was incredibly sad to learn Motion City Soundtrack decided to call it quits a few years ago. Frontman Justin Pierre decided to at least make the transition easier by releasing his debut solo album, and it’s full of so many of the things that fans of MCS came to adore. It’s not quite as diverse or well produced as their material, but still contains Pierre’s trademark honest lyricism and songwriting chops. Also present are a few of the members of longtime Pierre side-project Farewell Continental, which makes this feel closer to one of their albums, particularly with the presence of guitar feedback and female vocals. I wasn’t really expecting this to blow away anything Motion City has put out, but it holds its own quite nicely without overstaying its welcome only being 28 minutes long. I’m just so happy Justin is continuing to put out music.

#3.

Vein: “Errorzone” released June 22 via Closed Casket Activities

It’s so fitting that this band is named after a vital part of the human body. They feel essential and basic, but not in a boring way, and aren’t too flashy or breaking any molds. I guess the theme of most of my favorite music of 2018 is “Well, it’s not reinventing the wheel, but it’s still awesome!”. This bleak and brutal hardcore record sums that up quite nicely. Taking influence from Glassjaw, Deftones and every knuckle-dragging breakdown factory playing on the side stages of every Warped tour and sharpening the edges with razor blades, this album’s raw energy and brazenness makes it feel bombastic and energizing. This is also the band I’m most excited to see what happens in the future, as this is their debut full length, and I imagine giving them room to grow and mature will lead to some outstanding things in the future. The traditional hardcore moments are awesome (”Old Data in a New Machine”, “Demise Automation”), but the occasional breaths of melody (”Errorzone”) and clever electronic samples (”End Eternal”) are surprising. Far and away my favorite heavy music record of 2018.

#2.

Lifted Bells: “Minor Tantrums” released March 30 on Run For Cover Records

Bob Nanna must be one of the coolest people ever. The longtime Braid and Hey Mercedes frontman seems to have his fingerprints all over great bands and projects, and this Chicago indie rock collective is certainly no exception. Each song feels like a symphony of spastic drums, distorted bass and Matthew Frank’s (he of Loose Lips Sink Ships and Their / They’re / There fame) insanely varied and skilled guitar lines (”Inevitable Devil”). Every song feels completely unique and different, making it a pretty perfect rock record (”Follow Me”, “Choir Sings The Cure”). Nothing feels unnecessary and it’s infinitely re-listenable. Pretty good for a first full length, huh?

#1.

Monobody: “Raytracing” released November 1 via Sooper Records

I’ve been playing music in some capacity for 25 years and generally try to go to as many concerts and buy as many records as I can afford. With all that said, I have a hard time fully grasping what this Chicago jazz collective have pulled off on this gargantuan release. Seemingly going in every musical direction at once while somehow being accessible and downright fun to listen to, it’s kind of hard to describe exactly how it all works out, but it does. I can’t really recommend it to casual music fans, but if you’re willing to take the plunge into something dense and different that is truly at its best as a whole album and not individual songs, this will reward you. I can’t put any other full-length record above it, so it is without a doublt my favorite LP of 2018.

...except...

So, about that word “full-length”...

...welp...

ACTUAL FAVORITE RELEASE OF 2018:

Invalids: “Fulfillment EP” released March 28 via Choke Artist

I’ve never been in this situation before. I can’t in good consciousness say that I liked any music that came out this year more than this EP, so it feels wrong giving it any other spot. Invalids is a math rock project that was essentially just guitarist / vocalist Pete Davis until recently. For this EP and a few recent tours, he joined forces with 3 amazing musicians who could keep up with his absurdly technical yet melodic songwriting. I hesitate to use the word “perfect”, but I cannot find a flaw on this EP. Earlier records were perhaps impressively performed but lacking in memorable songs, or meandering or bloated. This EP instead sees Davis and company trimming the fat but still keeping things varied, clever and jaw-dropping. Yeah, it’s a technicality calling this “album of the year”, but it’s a glorious album and one I’m willing to make an exception for. Thank you, Invalids.