#when he was begging joe to forgive him i was like boy stand up

[flootweed]

army from the warp effect is so great because hes a whore and a bitch but also incredibly pitiful. truly the best characteristics someone can have.

[mrs-murder-daddy]

hello! I'm very much enjoying your Little Women-inspired Band of Brothers fic so far. two of my favorite stories combined, and I love the way you've done it so far with introducing the four sisters. also, childhood friends to lovers is one of my favorite tropes and I'm really looking forward to seeing more of Vivian/Donnie 🥰💕

if you're still looking for requests, I do adore Don Malarkey, George Luz, and Joe Toye (your choice) - maybe something to do with fake dating for New Year's 🥳 (or another holiday of your preference), or something angsty with a happy ending, if that's more up your alley? thank you!

Hello hello sorry for disappearing for a while there! My mental health took a dive and then uni took over my life and my mental health crumbled like a paper bridge.

Some things: The longer fic will be here shortly I promise! I'm sorry this is so short, I'm just trying to get back in the swing of things now that I have a month-long break from uni. I tried to make this gender-neutral please let me know if I’ve missed something! I’ve also given Reader a sister for plot reasons but she is referred to by a nickname.

And thank you for your kind words about Little Women (chapter 3 coming ASAP)

Just a Boy Standing in Front of a Girl

George Luz x Reader

Obviously you hoped this day was coming. The war is over. You're going home. What you weren't expecting was having to leave George. You lived on complete opposite sides of the United States, and you weren't *together* per se. You were just friends. And friends say goodbye before leaving.

"Ey! There's my favourite medic!" He bounded up to you like a giddy child, searching your face to gauge if you heard the news.

You wrapped your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your waist.

"We're going home Georgie!"

He smiled brightly, "We're going home! What's the first thing you're gonna do?"

You pulled back, "Oh, I don't know actually. Maybe go see my sister."

"Not your ma?"

"My mother has been begging me to come home and marry some socialite for months now. Giggles is the only one in my family who's actually written to see if I'm okay."

"And?"

"And what?"

"Should I be expecting a wedding invitation?" His tone was joking, but you could see on his face the prospect worried him.

"Nope." You smiled softly. "Not for a long time."

"What are you going to tell her?"

"I don't know yet." You sighed through your nose. "But come on Georgie quit being a cold fish! Let's celebrate!"

He laughed as you took his hand and led him to your friends. Now was the time for fun.

George gave you his address and made you promise to write as much as you could. Sometimes the letters were short and sharp, updating each other on your lives. Sometimes they were long and heartfelt.

This latest letter he could have sworn there were tear stains on the paper.

Your mother had gotten suspicious of all your activity. She pressured you to find out just what was going on. You had to lie. She would never have approved of you corresponding with someone at this frequency if you weren't dating.

You panicked. You told her half-truths. You met George years ago at training, fell in love but kept it professional until you got home, and now you were separated by distance.

She gave a doubtful hum and offered to invite him to Giggles' birthday. A girl only turns 21 once after all.

You cried as you wrote to George, asking for forgiveness for throwing him under the bus. He simply replied that there was no need. He was excited to meet Giggles and see what all the fuss was about in your hometown.

You huffed a sad little laugh when he signed off 'the best lover on the East Coast.'

This was going to be... interesting.

It's hard to see him again, not only for the memories you would always associate with him, but also because he seemed happier. Some annoying part of your brain tells you he's happier without you. The grin on his face and the strong arms wrapped around you say otherwise.

Lord you have missed George. But he's missed you more.

You have this glow about you, and he knows that despite the pressures from your mother, you are happy. And when he meets Giggles he understands. She is sunshine in a pinafore. He feels his own mood lift, thankful that you have such a light in your life.

Dinner is a difficult affair, George seems to lay the PDA on thick. Your mother stares him down like a spider. Giggles teases you both to no end. You're halfway through a bottle of your favourite drink just to keep yourself occupied.

Giggles cracks open her first bottle of champagne and drags you into the kitchen to 'help her pour.'

She rounds on you, holding your wrists so she can lean in. "What was that?!"

You're taken aback, "What do you mean?"

"For two people who aren't actually dating, you sure look like you are."

You gasp and pull her as far away from the dining room as you can. "Giggles! What are you talking about?"

"Oh come on! I can see from a mile away you two would make each other so happy!"

"That's not the point! How do you know we're not really together?"

Your sister smiles sheepishly, "I may have looked through your letters- But! But! Hear me out. You two are meant for each other."

She actually pours some champagne, leaving you to your thoughts.

It's only later when George goes outside for a smoke that you can finally talk to him. Your mother had a little too much giggle juice and was sound asleep in her room. Your sister made herself scarce with a wink.

You steal the cigarette from his lips, take a drag and put it back. A habit from deep in the Ardennes forest.

He huffs a laugh and takes his own drag.

"I... I have something to tell you. And I need to get it all out first or I never will."

He nods a little apprehensively.

"I don't want this to be fake. I think I actually love you, not in the way I love Joe or Babe or any of those guys. I'm for real, long-haul, scary in love with you."

He begins to laugh.

Your heart is about to fall out of your ass.

Why is he laughing?

He stops, his face dropping when he sees your expression.

"Sweetheart, when you wrote to me, asking me to come here I went out and bought a ring." When your eyes widen, he reassures you. "I'm not proposing yet, I just need you to know I'm serious."

You smile brightly. He does too.

You look at his lips. He does too.

You lean forward. He does too.

And when your lips finally collide, a loud cheering erupts behind the the glass of the back door.

[crazyyanderefangirlfan]

I just thought of a fun albeit stupid lets be honest idea:

So Jac, Jack, Joe, Joseph, Aya, Nadia, Jane, and Janet are all hanging out and Aya finds a few picture of one of the many recruiter swaps they've done when Jac complains about hating his soon test of a subject not only did Jack pass but loves and Joseph complains he can't stand his dad and step-mum for another second and desires a break. Then Janet's the one who offer to simply trade places for three days (ie so she can beg Jane to help her tell Maria how she feels/know if she feels the same way and Jane's secretly like: "Seriously?")

Oh, boy.

Like the other headcanons before, they had to put some ground rules, with Jack and Joe heavily emphasizing that should NOT do drugs or weed, especially since they’re mom has an uncanny ability to differentiate scents, especially weed.

Jack has to put Jac in a death grip and hissed that to not be a slut, threatening to cut off his manhood if he doesn’t.

He also told Roxy beforehand to be safe, to which the girl got her pepper spray ready.

And so it begins.

Janice honestly felt this was no different with her uncle. Jane's dad has an inkling feeling she wasn't his daughter but he can tell she's a good kid and treated her like his own

“Again? Really?”

Valerie was beginning to see through this ruse but was honestly tired at this point seeing how much trouble she gets with their guardians.

Nevertheless, she still treats them like her children. The three of them had a good time, though Grim hissed at them every time they got near. But still it was relaxing, especially for Joseph.

Until they had to do the morning workouts.

Jac and Joseph were on the floor, begging for mercy as they felt their arms like lead and panting heavily.

Vince was hiding his smirk behind his sports bottle as Zuri looked down at them in concern. Cece was openly laughing at them while Malachite was trying to help them up and Nadia giving them water. Valerie shook her head at them.

Meanwhile with the others.

Jack had a hard time in getting into Jac's character, the man was a known flirt and promiscuity. He was glad his adoptive mom is kinda cool though a little hotheaded.

He steeled himself and got to the classroom, he managed to avoid his admirers and flings. When the test started he answered thoroughly, he made sure to get a few wrong to not arouse suspicion.

Joe was starting to see why he dislikes his dad and step-mom so much. There wasn't a time where her remarks want to make him punch her and the dad wasn't helping.

So he does what he does best, getting blackmail and sure enough they was plenty of it. Turns out the step-mom was in some illegal business and had some enemies, Joe wondered if Joseph knew.

On one particular dinner, the usual remarks started and Joe did his best to stay quiet, then one of them said something that triggered him he couldn't remember who but all he knew was rage.

When his head was cleared, he found the dad on the ground with his face black and blue with his nose crooked and his hand on the step-mom's hair with her screaming a bloody murder.

The step-mom tried to call the police but Joe threaten to expose her business if she does.

Step-mom: Your bluffing!

Joe: Maybe I am, wanna find out?

The smile he gave unnerved both of them, they never seen him like this.

In the end she didn't but now both are wary of him, Joe just hopes Joseph will forgive him.

Jane was having a great time!

The house boat rocked and her uncle reminded her of her dad. Working at the diner was fun and got to learn new recipes.

One day as they were out shopping, they passed by a family with two girls and three boys, at first she thought nothing of them but she could hear them whispering and saw them glancing at their direction with disdain in their eyes.

Jame merely raised an eyebrow at them and continued shopping. She glanced at Janice’s uncle and noticed how on guard he seemed and how he kept glancing at her.

???: She’s as disgraceful as ever, and just as disappointing.

???: What do you expect from her? Of course she is, that’s all she’ll ever be.

It took a while but she realized those comments were directed to her. It pissed her off but she wanted to be the bugger person and ignore them.

Until they said how ‘she’ and ‘her uncle’ should have died on their trip.

Everything was blur but she can feel Janice’s uncle holding her back.

Once her head was cleared she saw the family cowering in fear, the father and brothers were bleeding heavily and one of the brothers was unconscious. The mother was crying and the sister were just plain petrified.

‘Sorry Janice, but I think I made you into a criminal.’ thought Jane.

Once the swap was done, everything was seeming back to normal until Joe and Jane got frantic calls from their counterparts asking what the fuck did they do.

[inknopewetrust]

In Another Universe Part 3 (Marcus Moreno x Reader)

Summary: You are trying to normalize a world without Marcus, months after you snapped back to Earth. But in that other universe, an accident occurs in their mission to bring you back.

Pairing: Marcus Moreno x Fem!Reader (We Can Be Heroes/MCU Crossover)

Word Count: 2.08k

Warnings: Nothing, just some language. 

A/N: So... it’s embarrassing how long this part took to be published. If you’ll except an apology, I’ll be the first to beg for forgiveness. On the other hand... here’s part 3! Part 4 will be the conclusion of this miniseries so thank you for reading thus far and stay tuned for that. Right now requests are CLOSED but I am going to open them again soon when I get through the ones I have waiting and I’ll be adding L&O:SVU characters to the list. :)

Pain is a difficult concept to understand. 

There are infinite reasons to feel a certain kind of pain or to be in a specific kind of pain, but no one can truly understand it until it happens to them. Which in the case of you, is no one. 

At some point during the last five months, you had made a move to Clint’s farm. James thought it would be better for you to not be in the city where your closest friends were gone and weren’t returning. It was the constant memories of Natasha holding your hand when things got rough or Tony obnoxiously slapping you on the shoulder in a message of congratulations. 

There were so many memories that simply seeped through the walls, both physically and metaphorically, but it wasn’t as if a move was going to change that. All you wanted was to move, home, to Marcus and Missy and the life you had built in what James had called ‘Earth 2.’ 

Earth 2. 

Earth 2 was the only Earth that mattered to you and his deflection of it being secondary to the one that only caused pain was hurtful. But it wasn’t like he was going to understand that. So, you took up the offer to move to Clint’s farm and the second you landed and walked off the jet, you regretted the decision. 

Clint was surrounded by love. His wife, his daughter, his sons. They were everything and nothing to you at the same time. Clint had his own problems to deal with upon meeting a young woman who took up skills like his own and often left you with Laura and his children. 

Laura kept you occupied with small projects as they were renovating the barn and their basement, but it was just as mundane as the topics of conversation she tried to engage in. But with even the slightest mention of Nat, or Steve, or Tony, or the world you left behind, you shut down. 

It was intentional, but it wasn’t avoidable. Pain wasn’t avoidable when it was buried so deep. 

But there were the occasional good days. Like today. 

Laura had taken the boys to soccer practice and promised Lila a day out at the aquarium. She extended the offer to you but she never thought you would accept. When you did, she was pleasantly surprised and also promised she would pay for lunch too. It was rare that you would pass up the opportunity to snag a free lunch because you obliged and allowed her to plan the day. 

‘Maybe a day out would be good.’ You thought to yourself as you readied everything to go. For the first time in months you put effort into your appearance. A bit of makeup, nicer clothes, and shoes that weren’t scuffed or covered in dirt from the non-existent basement floor. 

And for what it was worth, the day was good. You allowed yourself to just enjoy, learn, and watch a mother interact with her daughter and in turn, the daughter made you feel like the aunt Clint had always told her you were. Lila saw the effort and wanted to make you feel as welcome and as loved as possible. 

And as the cracks of a broken soul begin to slowly merge together–where time would surely heal it to properly function again, a wrench is thrown to stop it. 

James Rhodes wasn’t sure how it exactly happened.

He had been standing against a lab table, watching Clint (the only other resident at the compound at the moment) work on his bow. The two were making small conversation about their day to day lives since everything had gone down just a few months ago. While Clint had just finished installing a replacement valve on the base of the basket that held his arrows. It hadn’t been turning properly and the only place that would have the parts was Tony’s former playground. Then an earthquake occurred... or what they could equate to an earthquake.

Neither of them had ever been a witness to one, but the ground shook violently, quickly, with little give. Parts fell off tables and the two men grabbed at whatever they could to remain steady. By the time they had steadied themselves, the movement stopped. It was followed then, only then, by a loud crashing noise about a floor below and glass breaking. Clint was the first to reach for his bow and James grabbed the closest gun he could find. Neither of them thought anything other than “my god, what Thanos level shit is it now.”

Like the sleuth heroes they were, they managed to silently exit the lab and descend the stairs without so much as a creek. The living space that was located on the third floor was relatively untouched but the sound had echoed from the room. As soon as they turned around from the steps, they realized their suspicions were correct but it didn’t look like a Thanos level threat.

Behind the couch, the broken lamp that had no bulb laid on the ground beside a man. A man dressed in black tactical gear and swords sheathed on his back. He had other small weapons on his clothes but none of them were drawn and from the reflection of the glass window, Clint could see a perplexed look on his seemingly worn face. Although he didn’t feel the man was particularly threatening, Clint drew up his bow and held it steady from his position before calling out to him.

“Put your hands where I can see them.”

Cheesy, he knew it was but he wasn’t sure what to say. He didn’t know where the hell this guy came from and he could easily be a sorcerer or God even though he looked like a regular Joe.

“Sir, I need you to show us your hands!” James was more assertive from behind Clint but didn’t move from his position. Ever since the accident years ago, James took a step back whenever he didn’t have his armor on.

The man had flinched a bit upon hearing their voices. He slowly raised his hands as asked and turned around to meet the eyes of two men who he had never met. Their weapons drawn on him but not unfamiliar to other situations he had been in before. This time, it was just more human.

“Who are you?” The one with short hair, a bow, asked him with a hesitant, gruff voice.

“Where am I?”

The man spoke their language—maybe not an alien.

“I asked you first who are you?”

“Where am I? Where is-“

“I do not want to have to shoot you, who are you?” James was aggravated, perhaps a little scared but he wouldn’t shoot unless the man made any aggressive moments toward them.

“M-Marcus. My name is Marcus.” Marcus’ voice was firm but scared. He didn’t know where he was. It was all an accident. One minute he was testing the machine and the next he was moving through a kaleidoscope of colors until he saw a blinding light and landed on a lamp in the middle of a futuristic looking living room.

There was a moment of realization in the bow-wielders face that gave Marcus a second of hope. Had this really worked? Was this your world?

“Alright Marcus, I am going to need you to tell me where you came from and how you got here.” The one with the gun in Marcus’ eyes began to move around the one with bow. He held out his hand calmly, signaling to Marcus that he wasn’t a threat but was protecting himself and his friend out of precaution. Marcus did not move his hands but nodded in agreement. What did he have to hide when he was now in an unfamiliar land with weapons pointed at his chest? 

“I don’t know how I got here. I work for a team and we were trying to get someone back. I was working on it but something went wrong.” 

“Do you know where you are?” 

“No.” 

“Who are you looking for?” 

“Our teammate.” 

Clint knew it was him. This had to have been the man you talked about with him and James was getting that sense as well. He was exactly as you spoke, handsome with a slight carelessness to his appearance. He had a mustache and his name was literally Marcus. It couldn’t have been anyone else, though they had no idea how in the universe he found his way to the middle of the Avengers living room. 

“Marcus, I am going to ask you a series of questions I need you to be honest with me.” Clint put down his bow this time and James looked at him with wide eyes but continued to hold his stance. 

“Does your world look like this one?” 

Marcus took a second to let his eyes drift out the windows around them. The world looked similar, almost an exact copy. He had remembered your startled realization that his world was just as similar to your own even though it wasn’t the same one. It was a strange concept that was hard to grapple with. 

“Yes.” 

“Do you have a daughter, Marcus?” 

“What?” This absolutely terrified him. As much as he wanted to be hopeful to find you, a mention of his daughter in a new world was not what he wanted. Now the question if he even escaped his own world and found himself in a new one was wavering. These people couldn’t possibly know he had a daughter unless they were familiar with the Heroics. 

“Do you have a daughter? I need you to answer this so I can-” 

“Yes. Yes, I have a daughter.” 

“Missy?” 

Marcus nodded his head and Clint looked at James who lowered his gun now. This was that Marcus. This was your Marcus and he was here to find you. 

“And what can you tell me about Y/n?” 

His heart leapt out of his chest with a fury at the mention of your name. 

“She’s my-my she’s-” 

Clint nodded his head and officially dropped his bow before extending his hand for Marcus to shake. 

“My name is Clint Barton, maybe she mentioned me, I don’t know. But she’s talked plenty about you.” 

“She’s here?” It came out just above a whisper as he met Clint’s hand. 

“Y/n is with my wife at our farm. I can take you to her.” 

It was like that final stretch of battle you had described to him before. This was his endgame, his chance for peace with you and the friends you left behind for years are willing to help make that come true. Much to his word, Clint prepared a jet to set off to the farm and James kept Marcus from stirring alone in his thoughts. It wasn’t as if the reunion would be soured because the relationship ended, no, quite the opposite, but the idea that maybe you would rather stay with the people who you had always been around was an invasive thought. James had eased those thoughts with stories of your return and subsequent difficultly to adapt to this life. That wasn’t an easy thing to hear, but it meant that somewhere inside you, you believed that life was better with Missy and himself. 

James reassured him that you were very much in love with him. You had told the two of them about your “other” life, about the team, Missy, Mrs. Moreno, and everyone else who made that other world home. 

Home. 

By the time James had gotten around to recalling the moment you had realized you loved Marcus, Clint had come back, gathered his own bags and motioned to the jet. 

“Looks like he’s ready to go.” James said and gave Marcus a friendly pat on the shoulder. 

“She deserves to be happy and I know with you she’ll have that. It’s what they would have wanted.” 

“Thank you for your help. I don’t think I would have found her otherwise.” Marcus chuckled but couldn’t help the smile that grew on his face. It was a contagious one because the two men couldn’t help but feel the love the radiated off the man. They were happy for you and if leaving this world for another meant you would finally be at peace, then that is what it meant. 

“Go get her, Marcus.” 

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

Tag list for series: 

@pasckles @jupitersmooneuropa @agingerindenial @karnita-mexicana @mcueveryday @shadowolf993 @computeringturtle @roxypeanut​

[rohad93]

Sea Glass: Chapter 15

18+

At sun up St.Lucia had come into view on the horizon and Yellow was more relieved then she could describe. She was ready to be back on her own ship, but more importantly she was ready to be off The Menagerie.

She had sat out on the deck the entire night. She didn't trust any of the members of The Menagerie outside of Blue and Rose not to stab her in her sleep… that and there was the precarious situation she found herself in with BLue at the moment.

They had not spoken nor shared a glance since their encounter the previous night. She couldn’t look at her and she didn’t know what to say after she had run away from her last night.

Yellow leaned against the railing of the ship, arms crossed over her chest, glaring at the ever slowly approaching island port and stewing. She was mad at herself.

Mad at herself for being an idiot and a coward; for running away from Blue.

She hissed through her teeth at herself and turned to look at her feet, eyes narrowed, her wrist was throbbing this morning. 

She sighed heavily and looked up, watching the crew go about their daily chores of swabbing the deck and tightening the rigging.

The captain’s cabin door swung open and Blue came strutting out. She evidently changed clothes and brushed out her hair, it hung loose across her back and shoulders, a few braids scattered among the straight strands. She looked fresh and clean again for the first time in weeks and Yellow couldn’t help but watch her, despite the knot of shame and embarrassment that taken up a semi-permanent home in the pit of her stomach.

Blue glanced around and for a brief moment their eyes locked, but the look in those cerulean depths made Yellow turn away, eyes going back out to the ever approaching island, jaw clenched tight and shoulders bunched up around her ears.

She didn’t look up again but she heard Blue move away, unable to look up at her face again.

How quickly it seemed she could turn something that was already a mess into one of even greater proportions.

She could only assume that Blue was less than pleased with her, she knew she would be were their places reversed. 

Her whole body tensed, fists clenched as she kept her arms crossed, drawn tight up against her. 

She wanted to talk to her, to try and explain what had happened last night but she had no real explanation for it herself. She hadn’t had enough time to think about it.

It was just too much too quickly for her.

Yellow couldn’t remember the last time she had been so physically enthralled by someone as she was with Blue, probably because she never had before. 

Blue had a special talent for getting under her skin, both in the irritating sense and the… less irritating sense.... 

She was exceptional at setting fire to every nerve ending in the blonde’s body and causing her mind to phase in and out of coherent thought whenever it suited her to do so.

Yellow scowled to herself. That was one part of the problem though.

Yellow hated not being in control of herself and Blue excelled at making her brain turn into goo, for relatively short periods of time but that was much too long for Yellow. She felt like a fool standing in front of Blue, something else that irked her incredibly.

What’s more she was sure Blue did not understand that Yellow had absolutely zero experience to draw from for this particular facet of life.

After joining her first crew she had completely spurned all emotions like that, all they had done was get her branded and chained, she actively spent the majority of her adult life repressing them, they had never served any practical purpose to her. 

So last night, with everything finally laid bare between them, Blue’s hands sliding through her hair and the high pitched call of her name in a voice that set fire to the blonde’s skin without any effort, it had all been too much. 

Like an errant spark from a fire into a barn hayloft.

Blue set her on fire. Everything was a smokey haze and the fire spread so quickly she wasn’t sure where to focus on first and instead panicked and ran.

She scowled angrily to herself. So many emotions that she wasn’t used to all vying to be at the forefront of her mind and Blue’s fingers on her scalp and hot breath in her ear had just caused a complete and total shutdown.

Blue brought out a plethora of emotions in her and she’d had all night to evaluate them more closely, one by one rather than all of them in the span of a few seconds.

It was hard for her to put an exact name on it, considering their previous relationship and years as… less than friendly acquaintances. She wouldn’t say enemy because all her enemies were at the bottom of the sea by now, but her feelings for Blue were there, a complicated and unnameable mish-mash of annoyance, attraction and fondness that she couldn’t describe, but they could at least all be summarized quite easily. 

She wanted Blue, in a multitude of ways. 

But had been too panicked to capitalize on the opportunity when it had finally, truthfully, represented itself to her last night. Blue practically offered herself to her, only for her to turn and run the minute it happened. 

Now she didn’t know what she could even begin to say to make this right with Blue, or even that she should try. 

She would not beg, she had made a mistake but maybe Blue was past the point of forgiving her and she had her pride, it would not allow her to bend a knee to Blue and beg for a second chance.    

No, she had made her bed, now she would have to lie in it.

No matter how much she hated it.

~ ~ ~

When the ship pulled into port the crew went about their duties of tying things down and dropping anchor. Though Yellow could tell just by watching them that they didn't plan on staying very long, just long enough to drop her off.

Luckily, at the other end of the docks she could see it.

The Cluster

It looked just the same as the last time she had seen it, for which he was glad, because a small part of her did worry that the crew fighting amongst themselves may have destroyed it. 

The gangplank was lowered and Yellow looked up as Rose approached her, Blue stayed where she was on the other side of the ship, arms crossed over her chest and watching. The look on her face was one Yellow could only describe as hurt. 

The younger woman looked rather nervous and twitchy as she stopped just a few feet from Yellow.

“You better hurry off,” she finally said, nodding to the plank, making Yellow blink. Rose glanced over her shoulder and Yellow understood.

Blue wanted her gone, and quickly.

She didn’t blame her at all. She couldn’t stand to have Blue looking at her like that another moment. It dug painfully at something in her chest.

With a jerk of a nod she turned on her heel and started off, pausing just a moment, to look back at Rose, who still looked more than a little pensive, words on the tip of her tongue.

‘Tell her I’m sorry.’

That’s what she wanted to say, but she didn’t, she couldn’t

She swallowed them, even as they threatened to stick in her throat and carried on down the plank, it took effort not to look over her shoulder, but she didn’t and instead made a beeline straight for The Cluster.

The plank was down and Yellow hurried up it. She was quickly noticed and the same shouts that had echoed on Blue’s ship now filled the deck of The Cluster as the crew noticed the blonde appear on deck almost immediately.

“Captain!” 

“Your back?”

“You’re alive!?” 

When all the yammering pirates gathered around her had calmed down enough to let her talk she explained where she had been to them, though the heavily edited version. There are some things her crew, nor anyone else, ever need to know about her chained adventure on the sea.  

Jasper is exceptionally glad to see her and once things settle they ask her where they’re headed next and Yellow smirks to herself.

She had a debt to repay.

But a few things had to be taken care of first.

Her jacket was practically in tatters, as was her shirt. Her gun and saber had been taken away and her hat had vanished.

A trip to the markets was the first order of business.

~ ~ ~

With a bath, change in wardrobe and armed again, Yellow felt far better, despite the gnawing in her stomach that appeared whenever she thought of Blue, but that was something to examine later. She had another matter to attend to at present.

 Yellow walked through the woods with Jasper and Joe on either side of her as they approached the farm house.

The barn door swung open and Greg appeared, a sack of grain slung over one shoulder as he muttered curses under his breath.

He swung around to face them and jumped, the bag falling off his shoulder as he stared at the three with wide eyes, his jaw ajar as dark eyes flickered between the three of them. 

“Y-you!” Greg finally seemed to get a handle on himself as he pointed at Yellow.

“I have an offer for you, Greg.” The blonde started without preamble.

“Offer?” He blinked.

“You want to sail, don't you? Well I happen to find myself in need of a new cabin boy on my ship.” 

“Cabin boy?” he repeated dumbly and Yellow rolled her eyes 

“Yes. Do you want it or not?” She crossed her arms over her chest as she looked down at the shorter young man.

“I do!” He jumped. “I… don’t even know who you are…” he trailed off. Yellow had forgotten about that little bit. 

“Are you daft?” Her first mate couldn’t contain herself any longer. “This is Captain Marigold Faust!” Jasper snarled out and Greg’s face stayed frozen in a look of confusion before slowly morphing into one of disbelief and awe.

“You’re the infamous pirate, Yellow Diamond!” He squawked, hands slapping the sides of his face.

“Yes, and you did Blue and myself a service and I’m not in the habit of leaving my debts unpaid. Do you want to sail under me, or not?” She narrowed her eyes at him. She had spent enough time on land lately and she was quite eager to be back on her ship, away from here and so she could finally sleep for the next two days.

“I…” Greg trailed off, glancing between the pirates and then back to the farmhouse on the other side of the property. 

His still hanging open mouth shut with a click. 

“Yes” He nodded.

As they were walking back to the row boat out on the shore so they could return to the ship Greg had a certain thought.

“Wait… did you say Blue… like, Blue Diamond?!” He yelped remembering the sickly woman he had poured medicine down.

Yellow’s shoulders bunched up around her neck at the name being shouted out loud and her jaw clenched.

“Yes…” She managed to bite out. The two other large sailors at her side seemed to know better as they glanced at each other but said nothing while they followed their captain.

“That was Blue Diamond! Wow… even sick as a dog she was still just as beautiful as they say.” He said more to himself but stopped when the loud growling sound came out of the blonde. Greg looked at the tall womens black coated back. She didn’t turn around but Greg could practically feel those scary amber eyes on him and quickly shut his mouth.

“Let me offer you some advice.” The large, bald sailor had slowed down to walk beside Greg. “Don’t talk about ‘Ol Blue when the Cap’n is around,” he said quietly. Greg nodded dumbly, watching the blondes back, face scrunched up in confusion. 

Once they were back on the ship Yellow made a beeline for her quarters with orders for Joe to show Greg the ropes and to set sail. Some merchant ships would be moving through the waters just north of them and they could use an easy job.

Once the door was shut behind her she hung up her hat and coat and flopped gracelessly onto the bed with a frustrated sigh.

Seemed no matter how hard she tried she couldn’t totally push away her thoughts of Blue. She’d been managing all day because her crew knew better than to mention that name in her presence but now the thought was stuck at the forefront in her mind.

She slung an arm over her eyes and sighed wearily.

[xmxisxforxmaybe]

The sharing bed prompts I loveee that shit. What about “person A hogs all the covers and person B’s solution is to spoon them” and “does that feel good” with Rami as person B?

All right—I took some liberties with this prompt, and while it isn’t smut, it is fluffy and fun. Perhaps there needs to be a Part II, but for now, here you go : )

Y/N is the press tour director for Bohemian Rhapsody, so essentially, she is in charge of the boys. This is totally AU-ish, and this is also the first time I’ve written Joe and Gwil. Forgive me if it’s bad. 

* * * * *

Having been on the road with the boys for several weeks, I knew it was never anything that was going to make my life easier when they started being exhaustingly charming to me and only me.

“Cut the shit, boys. What do you want?”

Rami grinned, but I shook my head, “Nope—don’t try that either. What do you want?”

Rami’s smile faltered, and he sighed. He licked his lips, tucking his bottom one between his teeth, and I turned away, refusing to let any of his ticks affect me now.

Everyone on the tour could see the way we looked at each other, but I had a job to do. Rami was an actor, and this press tour was only going to be one small part of his life. But for me, this press tour’s success could send my name right to the top of the PR list, ensuring I’d never have to work three jobs to make ends meet again.

And no one, no one knew that.

This was Hollywood; people weren’t interested in the rags to riches story anymore. All that mattered was what your life looked like, so I made sure to consistently project a strong, confident woman with nothing to lose.

Except that right now, it sounded like I was going to be forced to make a very difficult decision: to keep up appearances by giving over to the boys’ demands, or to buckle, revealing how much the success of this tour really meant for me.

Joe stepped forward and popped onto the edge of the desk in my hotel room, crossing his legs and changing his voice to a high, nasally pitch.

“Well, ya see Mista Sheffield,” Joe said in his best Fran Fine impression, “as the nanny, it’s clear ya been makin’ these kids work way too hard. If they don’t get a break, it could be very bad for their health—and yours,” he added with a wink.

Sighing, I pushed back from my desk and looked at Joe, who re-crossed his legs and batted his eyes.

“I’ll consider your offer if you put on one of Nanny Fine’s skirts, Mazzello.”

“Uh, did you not see the pictures of us in drag? Only Rami’s got the stems to pull that look off.”

I flicked my eyes over to Rami and he smiled, although it was a shyer smile than usual. However, I didn’t look back at Joe. Rami was almost always the leader of their schemes, so I asked, for the third time, what exactly they wanted.

“Since our stop in the next city has been delayed, we thought we could have some time to . . . explore Italy.”

“And?”

“We want to rent a car—”

You started shaking your head no, but Rami pressed on.

“We want to rent a car and drive. We have plenty of time to get there—”

“And if something goes wrong? My god Rami—we are talking about an extra 48 hours, not a week!”

“Nothing will go wrong. You have my word.”

“Those are the most famous last words in every movie, television show, and novel produced in the last century!” I said, my voice rising as I stood up from the desk chair.

“We’ve already mapped it out and it only takes twelve hours longer than the train you have scheduled,” Rami spoke in a rush, moving to stand in front of me and to grasp my upper arms. “We have our cell phones. And . . .”

“And?” I prompted.

“And you’ll be with us,” Rami finished, his voice low and soothing as his eyes burned into mine.

I had to close my eyes to escape his spell because what he was saying was actually not as unreasonable of a request as I had been sure it was going to be. Backing away from Rami’s grip, I sat down on my bed with a plop.

“What does Gwil say?”

“It was his idea.”

“Oy vey,” I said, flopping back onto the bed.

The bed bounced as Joe landed beside me, perfectly propped up on his elbow.

“Soooo maaaa, what do ya say?”

“If—oof,” I said bouncing as Rami landed on my other side.

“If Joseph Mazzello agrees to never impersonate The Nanny again, we can take the car.”

The boys laugh and plant twin kisses on my cheeks and I give them both a hard shove away from me.

“But if anything, ANYTHING happens, I am holding you, Rami Malek, personally responsible,” I said as I stood up and glowered down at him.

“Ooo, Ram, man. That means she’s docking your pay.”

“Don’t care, Joey!” Rami cried as he exaggeratedly sniffed the air. “Can you smell that?”

“What . . . should I be smelling . . .”

“It’s the smell of FREEDOM!” Rami roared as he thumped Joe on the chest, hard enough to make him groan, then start giggling.

A small wrestling match ensued before I yelled at them to get out before they broke my bed.

“Go tell Gwil the good news,” I begged, making them freeze as Rami’s head poked out from under Joe’s stomach after Joe had pinned him with his entire torso.

They scrambled off the bed, each of them fixing their hair as they hurried out of the room to tell Gwilym the good news.

I sat down on my disheveled bedding and bowed my head, praying to whatever god that would listen for this minor detour to happen without a hitch.

The boys, as high-energy as they could be, had been giving their all at every event and had been working ungodly hours. If I could do this for them, they deserved to enjoy it.

* * * * *

God.

The master of the universe.

The almighty creator.

The powers that be.

The flying spaghetti monster.

It didn’t matter what the higher power I prayed to went by, whoever or whatever it was, hated me.

No.

It loathed me, and I became convinced that it got off on circumventing any possible happiness I could have in my life.

I fought back tears as I followed the boys through the sopping cow field, at least I assumed that’s what it was because it was nearly 2 in the morning and the only lights we had were our dying cellphones (which had no service, of course) and one tiny flashlight that had been jammed between the seat in the back of our too-small rental car.

It certainly smells like a cow field, I thought as my foot landed in something that felt suspiciously more squishy than sopping grass.

We were all damned lucky that we hadn’t had anything other than our pride hurt when a whopping pile of mud from the endless rain slid across the road pushing our car over an embankment and into a field. The car had refused to start, and we waited for over two hours for another vehicle to pass.

It was getting cold, so I finally said, “We can’t wait here all night.”

The boys all looked out the window and into the pouring rain.

“Look at the sign,” Gwil said pointing at something that was on the other side of the immense field. “Looks like a vacancy banner.”

“Like the boss said, we can’t wait here all night. It’s not like a cellphone tower is going to sprout up from all the rain,” Joe said.

“Pop the trunk,” I said, moving to open the door and step out into the rain.

Rami grabbed my arm and spoke in a voice that was heartbreakingly earnest.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

“I know,” I said, shaking him off and opening the door.

Luckily, we had all packed light and our bags were easy to carry. Rami tried to take mine and I refused; the last thing I wanted to feel at this moment was like a damsel in distress.

The walk took well over an hour, but it was exactly as Gwil said: a vacancy sign, except that none of us could have predicted that it was a place that made the Bates Motel look like a St. Regis.

We paused despite the pouring rain and looked at each other.

Joe nudged Rami, who faltered, but then took the lead and opened the ratchety front door, a chunk of sopping old paint glopping down on his shoe as he stepped through the doorframe.

We all shuffled in behind him, and it was clear the lobby was not meant for gatherings of people. Gwil and I stood elbow to elbow, a dusty shelf of outdated brochures brushing against my arm.

Rami angled himself forward and rang the rusty bell.

It made a pitiful ding that matched its home.

Rami’s hair was plastered to his head and falling into his eyes. While we waited, he slicked it back and I noticed it was almost long enough to tuck behind his ears when it was wet.

Meanwhile, Joe hadn’t missed the way I watched Rami, even in this dire circumstance. He was one of the many who knew how we felt about each other and he also knew that had been a strong part of the reason for this trip. Rami had confessed to him that he believed if he could get me to forget about the bustle of the tour, even for a day or two, he’d have a shot at figuring out if I was interested in him.

Joe’s insistence that I was just wasn’t enough. Rami wanted to be sure before he made a move, especially if it could mean turning the great dynamic we had established between all of us into something forced and uncomfortable.

“Hit it again,” Gwil said, his normally patient self becoming agitated. He hated to be dirty, and I knew he was thinking about a hot shower.

Hell, I knew we were all thinking about a hot shower.

Rami reached for the bell again, but before he could press it, a very old man shuffled out to the desk, his hoary head not more than a foot taller than the desk itself. He was wrapped up tight in a robe and there were slippers on his feet.

He began speaking in Italian and the dialect was so strong that we all looked at each other in utter confusion.

“English?” Rami asked in a desperate plea.

The old man cocked his head, little wisps of white hair billowing with his movement.

“I’m guessing that’s a no,” Gwil muttered, his voice tired.

“Rami—”

He turned around and looked at me.

“The key hooks on the wall.”

Rami nodded, his mouth puckering as he thought.

“We need rooms for the night,” Rami said, pointing to the keys on the wall. “Uh, camera, per favore.”

The man nodded, “Si, si,” and took two keys off the wall.

He began speaking once more, but Rami pointed to the last key hanging on the wall, trying to get another room in case one of the rooms was too small for all three of the boys to share.

“No, no,” the man said waving the two keys from the wall in front of Rami’s face and speaking some more.

It was clear we were getting the last two rooms the man had.

“La moneta!” he barked when Rami held his hand out for the keys, and we all reached into our bags for whatever we had in Italian currency.

The old man gave us a total and Joe counted it out. After the man recounted the money, he handed the keys to Rami and pointed toward the darkest section of the motel.

Again, we all cast a glance at each other, but once we were back outside in the pouring rain, Rami took the lead and walked off toward the dark rooms.

He tried one key, then the other and reached blindly along the wall for a light switch after the door had creaked open. A single lamp flicked on, and we were greeted by the smallest room I had ever seen. There was an ancient television propped up on a stand, one chair, and one bed that looked to be no bigger than an extra-large twin.

Rami glanced at me, then hurried to the next door, shaking the key furiously in the lock to get the door to open.

It was the same room, right down to the extra-large twin bed.

Rami looked at Joe and Gwil and said, “I don’t suppose the three of us could—”

“Oh for pete’s sake, Rami. Come on,” you said tugging his jacket’s sleeve and hauling him back into the other room.

Joe and Gwil exchanged a look, and despite their exhaustion, smiles crept across their faces.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Rami turned around and locked the chain.

With a sigh, he started to apologize again, but I cut him off.

“Rami—no one could have predicted this would happen. I’m sure we will laugh about this . . . if we don’t get axe murdered in the night.”

“Did you ever see that episode of the Twilight Zone where—”

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare plant some freaky image in my mind before we have to try to fall asleep.”

Rami gave me a small smile before he finally dropped his soaked bag on to the floor.

“We may have to wring out all our clothes,” he said frowning with disgust at his wet luggage.

“First, I’m taking the hottest shower in history,” I said, marching into the bathroom, then proceeding to scream as I collided face to chest with a mostly naked Gwilym.

Rami and Joe both burst in from their doors, and then they started laughing.

“Your faces,” Joe squeaked out.

Gwil and I looked at each other and broke, laughing until we cried at the absurdity of the entire situation.

Ever the gentleman, Gwil offered the bath, and yes, it was an old clawfoot bathtub, not a shower, first.

“No—you go for it,” I said patting his shoulder and following a still chuckling Rami out of the door who was swiping at the tears that had leaked down his cheeks during his laughing fit.

I collapsed onto the uncomfortable, putrid yellow chair, a puff of laughter escaping in intermittent bursts as I remembered the feeling of my nose colliding with Gwil’s chest.

“Damnit,” I growled, leaning back in the chair.

“What is it?” Rami asked from the seat he had taken across from me on the edge of the bed.

“My shoe strings are so wet I can’t untie them and my shoes are too tight to kick off.”

“Let me try,” he said, moving to kneel in front of my shoe. “Wow—okay. That’s definitely cowshit.”

Laughter burbled up from my throat again as I stared at Rami’s fingers working my shit-covered laces, and he looked up at me, his nose crinkled, his hair a mess, and I laughed harder until he joined in.

“When you win an Oscar for Freddie, I’m going to remember this moment,” I said, smiling down at him as he freed my right foot.

“Shut up,” Rami said with a smile. “Never gonna happen.”

“Why are you so afraid to let yourself want it?”

“For the same reason you’re so afraid this tour will be a disaster,” Rami finished with a grunt as he freed my left foot and sat back on his butt, getting ready to work his own tennis shoes off.

“What?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

Rami wiped his fingers on the shins of his soaked pants and looked up.

“You’re not the only one who came from almost nothing, Y/N. We recognize our own kind in this world.”

“But—”

“My parents worked really hard to make sure we had opportunities, but that was about all we had.”

“I didn’t know.”

Rami and I looked at each other, and for the first time I realized what we had in common: an insatiable hunger, a need to prove ourselves.

I know it seems like it only happens in the movies, but as soon as I made that realization, it was like a jolt of electricity went through my body. I had never wanted to kiss someone more than I did in that moment, and just as I was about to drop to the floor and close the distance, Gwil knocked from inside the bathroom.

“Your turn, Y/N!” he called.

I shook my head and stood up, hurrying into the bathroom.

By the time we had all rotated through, Joe going last and informing us with a loud, “Yikes!” that the hot water was all gone, I was exhausted and settled under the minimal covers on the bed.

Rami had been sitting in the yellow chair for the past half an hour, trying to get his cellphone to work.

“We’ll use the phone at the front desk in the morning,” I mumbled sleepily. “Let’s get some rest before the rooster crows. Cuz I guarantee there’s one roaming around out there unless the axe murderer was in the mood for chicken.”

Rami’s laughter was soft as he rose up from the chair and walked over to the light switch.

“Should we leave it on?”

“Try it.”

Rami flicked the switch and the room was plunged into darkness, but after a few moments, it was clear that the light from the vacancy sign was going to shine right through the damn-near sheer curtain covering the window.

“I think we’re okay—you locked the door, right?”

Rami fumbled along the door and double checked.

“Yup.”

I listened as he made his way back to the bed and he shuffled some sort of item of clothing off. When his cold feet accidentally connected with mine, I knew it was his socks.

“Sorry,” he muttered. “Can’t stand to sleep with socks on.”

“Me either,” I said to the wall I was facing.

Rami moved around in the bed, attempting to get comfortable and to keep an appropriate distance between our bodies, but when I moved, he gasped as all the covers moved with me.

“Sorry,” I groaned.

“I think this bed is clearly meant for one person.”

“Or two people as tiny as that old man.”

Rami chuckled, and then he sighed.

“There’s a solution . . . if you’re okay with it.”

“Lay it on me, Ram.”

Rami said nothing, but he rolled onto his side and pressed his body into my back. He adjusted his arms, eventually resting his left hand in the dip at my waist.

“At least I’m getting warmer now,” I said sleepily.

Rami took that as an invitation and snuggled in deeper, sliding his arm all the way over my waist so he could spoon me.

“I really am sorry for all of this,” Rami whispered into the back of my neck.

“I’m not,” I said, reaching for his hand and pulling it up between my breasts so I could clutch it to my chest.

Rami hummed contentedly, and we both drifted off to sleep.

[crazedhopelessromantic]

This is what happens when you don't read the contract, you do something that goes against it and wind up back in prison the foundation. He slept with someone, Anne found out. He is hers after all, not that he was fully aware of that yet- but why should she have to share with someone who wouldn't treat him how he deserved? That didn't seem fair. She's the only one for him.

At least that's what she thinks- fuckin' creep.

AO-1504 woke up in site/area-114, with Anne standing above him with her foot on his chest, and she did not look happy.

"Anne? "

"1504. "

"Where the hell am I? " Joe asked, looking around the small room while trying to push her foot off of him but she didn't budge.

"Who was that girl who was in your bed last night? " She glared down at him.

"I don't know, just some chick from a bar. The fuck are you doing? "

"I'm punishing you. Did you not read the contract? " She tilted her head to the side and rose a brow. His hands got pinned to his sides and Anne was now on his lap, leaning down close to his face.

"You're mine, Joe. I'm not keen on sharing. "

"Excuse me? What the fuck-. "

"It's in the contract you signed. " Anne sighed. Joe really fucked up with not reading it entirely, he's not the best with paying attention. Barely knew what an O5 was, after she explained it twice.

"You'll be staying here until I forgive you, so if you want to get out of here I suggest you get on your knees and beg, like a good boy. " She got off of him and walked up to the door, knocking to let the guards know she was done.

"I'll see you tomorrow, at ten. " And with that - she left.

"... Jesus fuckin' Christ what the fuck just happened. " Joe stayed on the floor, a little too scared to get up just yet. Maybe he should have read the contract better.

[cksmart-world]

The completely unnecessary necessary analysis

by Christopher Smart

March 30, 2021

BURGESS OWENS HATES GOD AND MORONI

Did Utahns know who they were getting when they elected a former NFL player to Congress who may have CTE from taking too many hits on the gridiron. Lately Burgess Owens (whose real name is Owen Burgess) has been acting strangely and we don't know if he's got brain damage or if he's just crazy. As most people know — except Republicans — Donald Trump tried to nullify the presidential election so he could stay in power. But who's the dictator? Joe Biden, of course, said Owens on Fox News. “We don’t have anything close to a constitutional republic right now. We have a dictatorship.” And as for Black Lives Matter, the movement seeking to stop police shootings of African Americans, Owens said this: “They hate God. They hate capitalism and they hate the family... .” Ah, the old, GOP playbook — we have nothing to offer but  tax cuts for the rich, so let's demonize Democrats. This is how they brand people like Nancy Pelosi as a she-devil. We could go on Radio From Hell X-96 and say Owen Burgess hates God and Moroni. It could be true, we just don't know. One thing is clear: Owen Burgess does not have a personal relationship with Jesus — in fact, he may be the Devil. Get thee behind me, Satan, you shithead.

WATER (NOT BOOZE) OUTLAWED IN GEORGIA ELECTIONS

OK, the staff here at Smart Bomb will never complain about alcohol in Utah ever again. It's true, you can't buy vodka on election day here in the Beehive State. But at least you can get water. Not so in Georgia if you're standing in line to vote on election day. And they have long, F---ing lines at Georgia polls — especially in low-income, minority areas. If someone tries to sneak you a bottle of water, they'd get busted by the  water police. “Illegal distribution of a controlled substance, to wit, H2O.” It remans unclear whether mini-bottles of Jack Daniels could be passed out to thirsty voters. But white Georgia officials say the new, restrictive voting laws are good because white voters in the Peach State no longer trust the system after white Republicans lost two U.S. Senate seats and Donald Trump said it was rigged. The former president even begged (threatened) the secretary of state to find him 11,700 votes to un-rig the polling. State Sen. Buzz de Vaut, who sits on the state election board, praised the new legislation, noting that thirsty black people might pledge their votes to Democrats for a bottle of water — which would be totally unfair to Republican white supremacists.

HUNTSMAN SUES LDS CHURCH FROM A SAFE BEACH

Holy heck. He's gone and done it. And it could really screw up his Temple Recommend. James Huntsman — the scion of the late industrialist Jon Huntsman Sr. — is suing the LDS Church for fraud and he wants $$$ millions in tithing returned. Oh, boy. The Celestial Kingdom could hang in the balance for the brother of former Gov. Jon Huntsman (Jr.) and Paul Huntsman, the jefe at The Salt Lake Tribune. In a lawsuit filed from a safe and secure beach in California, James Huntsman said the church repeatedly lied about billions going to charitable causes. Yikes! “[R]ather than using tithing funds for the promised purposes, the LDS Corporation secretly lined its own pockets by using the funds to develop a multibillion-dollar commercial real estate and insurance empire that had nothing to do with charity,” the suit said. Double Yikes !! Church officials may be wishing Mark Hofmann was back — at least they'd be getting something for their money. On the other hand, suing the LDS Church for millions in such an embarrassing way could provoke the wrath of every good Mormon in  Zion. Some advice, James: Don't be caught in Utah or you could end up like Brigham Young's scapegoat, John D. Lee — digging your own grave. (Yes, literally.)

Post script — Spring is here and crocuses are croaking and like the swallows in Capistrano, the Turkey Vultures will soon be circling the Avenues. Easter is upon us and that means bunnies and colored eggs (why, we don't know). In some countries Catholics celebrate the resurrection for an entire week and because they can confess their sins and get absolution, they really party down. Forgiveness is a great thing. Too bad its in such short supply. If you wrote or tweeted something stupid decades ago in high school or when you were drunk at college, watch out. You can apologize over and over again and spend 20 years in a convent but that just won't get it — no way. These are some mean times we're living in. But the hate that spreads like Covid didn't happen overnight. For more than three decades a lot of money and effort has gone into the campaign to divide Americans. When people like evangelical preacher Rick Joyner call on Christians to arm themselves for a civil war against liberals, who are allies of the Devil, you know we're in deep shit. Where do we go from here? Martin Luther King, Jr.: “Hate begets hate; violence begets violence. We must meet the forces of hate with the power of love.” Think about it.

Alright Wilson, if spring can't put you in a good mood, what can? You're right, the band is almost always in a good mood, but we can't talk about that here. So anyway, do you and the guys have something in your Easter basket that will lift us up and float us away on a fragrant spring breeze:

I can see clearly now, the rain has gone I can see all obstacles in my way Gone are the dark clouds that had me blind It's gonna be a bright, bright sun-shining day It's gonna be a bright, bright sun-shining day I think I can make it now, the pain has gone All of the bad feelings have disappeared Here is that rainbow I've been praying for It's gonna be a bright, bright sun-shining day Look all around, there's nothing but blue sky Look straight ahead, nothing but blue sky

Gonna be a bright, bright sun-shining day Gonna be a bright, bright, bright sun-shining day

(I Can See Clearly Now — Johnny Nash)

[dreamingfanficsmasher]

Bruises - Ben Hardy X Reader

Summary: Ben finds out about abusive boyfriend and protects you.

Warnings: HUGE TRIGGER WARNING, domestice violence, fluff.

You had woken up with your eye throbbing, a sore throat, feeling like you were still being strangled. You looked over at the still asleep monster that you have been dating for 6 months now. It was great at first, the abuse only started after 2 months, and from that point onwards you were too afraid to leave, afraid he would kill you.

The only people that knew of the abuse was your flatmate, Maxine, and your best friend, Josh, not because you told them, but because they often either heard the beatings or saw the aftermath.

Maxine often begged you to leave him, Josh often threatened to kill him, but they both understood your fear, and they soon dropped it, after realising how dangerous it could be for you.

You climbed out of bed, threw on your tights and an old hoodie, placing sunglasses on your face, trying your best to hide your new bruises. You left the room as quietly as possible trying not to wake up the monster.

That’s when you noticed Ben, Joe and Gwilym had all come over, sitting in the living room, having coffee with Maxine and Josh. Luckily, you on your way out for a walk anyway, you quickly moved past the living room, trying to avoid the stares, giving a nod of your head to greet them, unable to speak. You then left, going to walk amongst your thoughts before having to say a word.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

While you were gone…

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

A long sigh came from Maxine as they all watched you leave the flat. She looked back at Josh, a concerned expression on both their faces. The three boys had no idea what was happening, but they knew it wasn’t good.

Ben always had feelings for you, but he hid them, knowing you were in a relationship. You also had feelings for Ben, you so desperately wanted to run into his arms and tell him everything that goes on, begging him to protect you. But you were too afraid, however, if you had realised that the monster was actually intimidated by Ben, you would have left him for Ben a lot sooner.

“Did you see those new bruises?” Josh broke the silence, staring at Maxine.

“Yes, she tried to hide them, but she didn’t do a great job at it.” Maxine sighed, staring at where you had once been, “Her and Nic had a fight again last night.”

“What are you talking about?!” Ben piped in, now frustrated about what he doesn’t know about you.

“Nic, he hurts Y/N, its been going on for months, she’s too afraid to leave him and we are too afraid for her safety to do anything.” Maxine sighed, Josh’s fist started to clench as she explained.

The boys were left speechless. Gwilym’s mouth was agape, not sure what to say. Joe stared at the floor, processing everything. Bens face was the definition of pure fury, he was angry with Nic for what he does, with you for not telling him, and at himself for not realising you were in pain.

“What was the fight about this time?” Josh asked, ignoring the boys’ expressions.

“I think it was actually about you, Ben.” Maxine answered, looking at Ben, who suddenly looked up, heartbreak and guilt on his face.

“He’s threatened by you, he thinks your closeness with Y/N means she is sleeping with you or something. He will never confront you, for some reason he is also terrified of you. So he takes out on her, the more she denies something is going on, the more angry he gets, and the more aggressive.”

“But nothing is going on!” Ben raised his voice. “And why don’t you do something, you live with her?!”

Your flatmate was starting to get angry now, “I can’t do anything! She will never forgive me if I did something! Do you know how much it breaks my heart to hear her get beaten and beaten, over and over again. Hearing her cries, his yells, a few weeks ago it was so bad I had to rush her into Casualty because he refused to!”

This shut Ben up. Josh sighed, “Where is he now?”

“He is still in her room, he didn’t want to leave out of fear that she will run to Ben for help.”

All the men’s heads looked up, realisation hitting them that the man that causes their friend so much pain, is right in there, vulnerable. Maxine’s eyes widened, out of realisation of what they had planned. “No, she will never forgive you. And what if this causes her more danger?!”

“You said it yourself, he is terrified of Ben, if we were all to beat him shitless, including Ben, he might get the point.” Joe finally spoke.

Maxine soon gave up, as the men all entered your bedroom.

▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎▪︎

You entered the flat, tear stained face, terrified of the fact that the monster is still in there. Maxine was in the kitchen, wrapping Josh’s hand, Joe and Gwilym were standing next to her, holding their own hands. Ben was sitting by the window, staring out of it, lost in thought.

“What happened?” You croaked, gaining the attention of everybody. “Where’s Nic?” You started to panic.

“He’s gone.” Josh replied, “We took care of him for good this time.”

You stared at him in shock, processing what he was telling you, not realising Ben had approached you slowly, now standing in front of you.

“He won’t hurt you anymore.” Ben stroked your cheek, taking off your sunglasses, revealing your purple bruise. His felt a split second of anger from seeing the bruise, but then his face softened.

Tears started to fall down your cheeks, realising you were now safe. Everyone left the room, leaving you and Ben alone.

You both stared at each other for a while, before you noticed his red knuckles, now breaking down in tears, falling into his arms. He protected you, he was one of the ones that saved your life. He gently shushed you, stroking your hair, letting your tears stain his shirt.

“I can’t …. believe …. He’s gone.” You cried out.

Ben lifted your head to look at him, you could start to see the tears threatening to fall out of his own eyes, making them sparkle more.

“He will never bother you again. If he ever comes near you, we will take care of him. You never have to be afraid again. You deserve someone who is kind to you, you will beat themselves before even thinking of hurting you. Who will cry at the sight of you in pain.” His tears started to fall at his own words, looking at your bruises, making him cry harder.

You started to cry as well, both of you soon slid down to the floor, both crying, holding onto each other. You never wanted to leave his embrace, and you started to realise how much you actually loved him.

Tags: @ben-hardy-with-a-mullet @benhardyismyangel @bennyrog @bensakindofmagic @benhardyispretty @benhardyisdaddy @benhardyroger @roger-on-legs @rogertaylorfanfic @rogertaylormylove @queenrogertaylorfan @queen-rogertaylor

[atths--twice]

Okay... so Nothing Lasts Forever... I have to admit that the only parts of it I truly enjoy are the MSR scenes. The rest of the episode is creepy and honestly gross to me. So, the focus of this chapter will be on their relationship and not the story line. I think we can all agree that that is what is most important anyway, right? I mean, come on...

Chapter Thirty Nine 

Shining Light  

Time spent in church, prayers, discussions and decisions, lead to conversations that should have been had years ago.

March 2018

Scully woke up and felt off, the same way she had been feeling for a few days now. Something was not right, and she could tell. Turning onto her back, she sighed, so many thoughts running through her head. Closing her eyes she thought of the last few days.

Mulder had come over after the case in Connecticut and they had spent the night together, each healing the other in turn. They slept together, holding tight to the other, and she had ordered breakfast for them when they woke.

When he left, his eyes were saying things his mouth was not, and she felt inexplicably nervous. He kissed her forehead and left, no words spoken, and then no call or text for a couple of days. Things were strange between them, and she felt confused and off balance.

Pushing the covers back, she sat up and sighed, making a decision. She would go to mass and see if that helped. Recently she had been doing that more often, spending time at a church near the hotel. She did not always make it for a mass, but she found simply sitting in the church to be calming and peaceful. She took a quick shower, dressed, and headed for church.

The coolness of the holy water, the scent of the candles and pews, and the beauty of the stained glass brought back so many memories from her childhood. First communion, confirmation, her rebellious pull from church, her mother’s desire for her to find her faith once again, and how she found it again following her cancer diagnosis.

She sighed as she sat and closed her eyes, listening to the priest as he began to speak, but at the same time not paying much attention, drawing strength instead from the building itself and the memories it held. She felt for the quarter on a chain in her pocket and thought of her mother. She wished her mother was there, sitting beside her, ready to listen and offer advice for the worries plaguing her heart.

Scully knew how much her mother loved Mulder. She had known for years, and she could almost hear what her mother would say - It’s your decision, Dana. Nobody can make the decision for you.

Yes, she might say those words, but her eyes would silently be praying and begging for her to go back to him, to find her happiness again, and for them to be them again.

If only it were that easy …

She sighed again, her fingers rolling across the quarter in her pocket. “I’m trying,” she whispered. “We’re trying.” Sighing again, she let the quarter go and clasped her hands together, prayers passing silently across her lips.

Communion received, her mind still racing, she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket. Glancing at the screen, she sighed and walked out of the church, heading to meet Mulder for a new case.

Seeing the manner in which the victims were killed and the reason for it made Scully feel uneasy, because it reminded her  of the case with Father Joe. She hated what that case did to her and Mulder, but it had forced them to talk in order to move forward. Following that case, a shift occurred. It was still a dark and sad time and was not something she liked to think about.

She investigated liver transplants in the area and found nothing out of the ordinary. Feeling the need to go back to a church, she texted Mulder where she would be and sent him the address. Opening the doors, she walked inside and dipped her fingers into the holy water, crossing herself as she knelt a bow at the pew before she sat down.

She sighed as she attempted to find peace in the church. So many thoughts swirled in her head, with Mulder first and foremost. She knew he was enjoying and welcoming this slow walk back to each other, and so was she, but what was the plan for the future? Were they just going to continue on this … visiting each other for comfort? Hanging out, going out to eat, and then sex if they felt like it? It was nice, very nice, but it was not enough. She wanted more, but was also scared to take that leap again.

She closed her eyes as she thought of the hurt she had suffered from their separation. The loneliness, the solitude, the feeling of missing her other half. She thought of William, or Jackson, whatever name he went by, and she knew she had failed him. His parents, the ones he had known his entire life, were dead and he was all alone in the world. A boy with amazing abilities who had no way of understanding how or why he possessed them was now alone and scared. Being young, ignorant, and powerful  was a lethal combination, and she feared for him.

Opening her eyes, she looked to the front of the church and made a decision. She stood up and walked toward the candles, intending to light as many as she felt were needed to address the challenges she, Mulder, and their son now faced. Not many were lit initially and for that she was grateful. She knew she was going to be asking for a lot.

She did not want to be selfish in her prayers, so she lit one asking for peace and guidance for her family members. Nieces and nephews making life decisions they may not be prepared to undertake. She lit another and prayed for wisdom to do her job to the best of her ability and to help those who were unable to help themselves. She lit one for William, praying that one day she would have the chance to tell him the truth and be given a chance to explain why she made the decisions she made. The last candle she lit, she prayed for Mulder, for peace, understanding, and guidance that would be required for them to find their way back to one another.

As she lit his candle, Mulder appeared at her side joking about not bursting into flames as he crossed the threshold. She smiled at his joke, her prayer still in her head as she told him of the liver transplant recipients all being accounted for as he struggled to read off the information he gathered from a document on his phone without his glasses on.

“Oh, God, help me,” he said and she stared at him, amused. “Sorry.” He looked up and raised his hands as he put his glasses on, reading the screen of his phone and telling her what he discovered.

“I think we should hand this over to the NYC Organized Crime division, Mulder. I don't think this is an X-File,” she said, looking at him and shaking her head, as he raised his head in intrigue. “I'm gonna need some time here. I can meet up with you later, or you can wait for me.” He nodded and put his hand on her back before walking away.  

She turned back to the candles, needing to finish her prayer. This one was for herself and she prayed for wisdom and guidance, and to not be such a fucking coward. With a small groan, she asked for forgiveness at her choice of language and crossed herself as she turned around.

What she saw made her heart skip and her breath catch. There Mulder sat, waiting for her, just as she had suggested. Though she had suggested and hoped, she had assumed he would wait for her as he always had, outside, or even meeting up at a nearby coffee shop. She honestly thought he had left to do just that, leaving her standing there alone, but he was different now. They were different. Maybe her prayers had been heard after all.

“You waited,” she said quietly as she came to stand beside him. He looked up at her and away from the bible he held in his hands. Once more she had to ask for forgiveness, as the glasses he wore gave her some very impure thoughts.

“I waited,” he answered in the affirmative, sliding over so she could join him in the pew. She sat beside him and smiled as he went back to looking at the bible in his hands. Her prayers continued as she sat down, her thoughts jumbling together as the past and present began to blend.

She heard him mentioning the scripture about vengeance and she smiled, telling him it was a common biblical passage. He looked so disheartened that she felt the need to share something with him.

“Did I ever tell you how I came to believe in God?” she asked quietly, knowing he would get a kick out of the story.

“No,” he said, shaking his head.

“When my brother Charlie was a baby, he got seriously ill. I think I was about four. I later learned that it was rheumatic fever.”

“Hmm,” Mulder nodded.

“Every night, Mom would tell us to get on our knees and pray for his recovery.”

“Your prayers were answered. He lived.”

“Only, after the first couple nights, I wasn’t praying for him,” she said, thinking of being a little girl again, her prayers so big. “I was praying for a puppy.” Mulder gave a big quiet laugh, and she laughed with him. “And we got one that Christmas. I thought God had performed a miracle.”

“I finally know why I’m not a Christian, Scully. My parents never got me a puppy,” Mulder said with a smile, and she laughed quietly.

“So are you-you praying for another miracle now?” he asked her curiously.

“I don’t know if I do believe in miracles. But I do know the power of faith,” she told him softly, as she took her mother’s quarter from her pocket. “I saw it in my mom, the strength that she received.” She stared at the quarter, holding it in her fingers. “I could use some of that strength now.”

She put the quarter back in her pocket and smiled. “I need what you have. You always bear north, Mulder … no matter which way or how hard the wind blows against you.” She stared at him with a smile, and he smiled back.

“I think all I have- all any of us have are the results of all the choices that we’ve made. And at the end of the day, we just hope that we made the right one,” he said softly and she nodded, closing her eyes, her choices weighing heavy on her heart. “Don’t know if that measures to what you’re saying, but it’s what I feel.” She opened her eyes and looked at him, his smile so open. She sighed and nodded again.

“Five minutes, okay?” she whispered, and he nodded, putting his glasses back on and picking up the Bible.

“Make it ten, I’m really interested in the Old Testament. Curious what happens to this Joseph fellow,” Mulder said and she laughed, closing her eyes again.  

“Oh." She heard beside her a few minutes later. “That took a dark turn.” She heard the book close and then his deep sigh. She smiled again, both of them then quiet as they sat in a shared pew.

_____________________

Walking down the street to the church, Scully rolled her neck, fighting the crick in it since falling down the elevator shaft a few days ago. Shaking her head and then giving her whole body a quick shake, she attempted to release the thoughts of the possibility she had faced of falling to her death.

What a horrible way to go, she thought, shaking her head again.

Walking through the doors of the church, she took a second to look at the stained glass, as she always did. The colors were beautiful and this time of day, they were even more so. This was one of her favorite churches, mainly because of the beauty within the architecture and spectrum of light the windows created.

Sighing, she stepped to the candles, needing to offer up prayers again. More of the same, but one in particular. Crossing herself, she stared at them and then at the window above, admiring their beauty. She took a deep breath and grabbed a stick, lighting the first candle and giving thanks for her health and for no broken bones or serious injury in her fall. Another candle, asking for health and safety of her family. Another, for her mother, thankful for the love and advice she bestowed upon all of those around her. Another, for herself, asking for guidance and strength to do what she knew she wanted but was still afraid to voice.

The last candle was for Mulder. Well, more importantly for Mulder and her and the decision weighing heavily upon her mind and heart. Before she could offer up a prayer, the candle went out, and she heard Mulder’s footfall behind her. She would know that gait anywhere.

She turned and looked at him, and then back to the candle, the irony and humor not lost on her. He may not have burst into flames when he entered the church before, but here at the one she frequented, he apparently had some kind of power, making the last and most important candle go out.

“That must be a sign. I’m all out of miracles. Turn back. Give up.” He smiled and reached for a stick. “Accept your place in the numbing embrace of the status quo.”

“Mm-mmm,” he hummed, lighting the stick. “I will … relight your candle and extend your prayers through mine.” She smiled as she watched him, knowing he had no idea the intention she placed upon that candle.

“What prayers?” she asked, unable to resist teasing him.

“I can’t tell you. They won’t come true,” he said with a shrug.

“It’s a prayer candle, Mulder. Not a birthday cake.” She laughed and he chuckled softly.

“Prayers aren’t meant to be sentiment. It’s a conversation,” she said, looking down at the candles. “You can do it like a meditation, or if your needs exceed your grasp, you can ask God to act on your behalf. But you don’t believe in God,” she said, glancing up at him. “So you’d essentially be talking to yourself.”

“Well, I might not believe in God, but I believe in you. Therefore I speak to him through you.” She stared at him as he spoke, but he was not finished. “Through the transitive property of equality. If ‘A’ equals ‘B’ and ‘B’ equals ‘C,’ therefore ‘A’ equals ‘C.’ Reason and faith in harmony. Isn’t that why we’re so good together?” he asked her.

She stared at him, raising her eyebrows and moving her head, her eyes dropping to his lips. “Are we together?” He looked down, his face sad and thoughtful. He took a breath and started to answer her, but she cut him off. “You know, I believed I could protect our son, and I failed. I thought we could live together, and I fled.” She looked at him sideways, almost unable to meet his gaze head on. “I gave up on that, too.” She looked down and kept her eyes on the candles,

“If only you’d fled earlier,” he said and she looked at him. “You know how many times I’ve envisioned that scenario, where you left that basement office before I even needed glasses? You’d have your health, your dog, your sister.” He stared at her and she stared back. “You’d be Kersh’s boss at the FBI, and be married to some brain surgeon, and have a bunch of kids that you wouldn’t have to give up.”

She took a breath, waiting a beat. “Mulder, I don’t begrudge you any of those things. That’s not what I was talking about,” she said, looking down and then back up at him again.

“Well, what are we talking about, Scully? Because I don’t know if any God is listening, but I am standing right here, and I am listening. Right beside you. I’m all ears. That’s my choice.”

She stared at him, millions of thoughts running through her head. How she gave up William, gave up on them, and ran away. She did leave, but it had been for good reason, and yet … Still though, one thing had remained the same no matter the hurt and the pain they caused each other. He was there beside her, and she knew he always would be, no matter the context or label.

She looked around the church, having no idea how he even knew she would be there, and looked to see if anyone was around before she leaned forward and began to whisper in his ear. She thought about what she wanted to say, what words would be enough to convey her innermost feelings and desires.

“I’m ready, Mulder. For everything. I want my mystery answered and to stop chasing monsters.” He stood still and stared at her. She needed him to understand, to know her heart completely.

“That’s not my four-year-old self looking for a miracle,” she said, taking a deep breath. “That’s my leap of faith forward. And I’d like to do it together.”

Mulder nodded and kept his eyes on her. “I’ve always wondered how this was gonna end.” He stared at her before turning to pick up a stick and light the last remaining candle.

They stood there and watched the flame flicker and then his hand was holding hers and the tears in her eyes spilled over. “Like a conversation, you said?” he asked softly and she nodded, wiping at her eyes. He took a deep breath and squeezed her hand, keeping his eyes on the candles, as she watched his face.

“You didn’t flee, you saved us both. You didn’t give up on anything Scully, least of all me, or us. You saved us." He turned to her and stared into her eyes. “I told you years ago that you saved me, and that is just as true today as it was then. Even more so. You’ve been saving me for twenty five years, Scully. Keeping me honest and making me a whole person. Even apart, you are what keeps me whole.” He put his hand on her face and stroked her cheek, his thumb brushing away her tears. “Your goddamn strict rationalism. Oh …” He looked up heavenward, horrified, and she laughed, putting her hand over his on her cheek.

She closed her eyes as she laughed and cried, before opening them to look at him. His face was serious, and he let go of her hand to hold her face gently, shaking his head as he did.

“I stopped seeing you. I looked too far into the dark, and my shining light got left behind. A light only lasts so long before it goes out, the darkness swallowing it up." He shook his head and she cried harder, holding onto his wrist. “If you had stayed, your light would have gone out and we both … Scully, I can’t even fathom it. You didn’t flee, you made a decision that hurt. We were broken, and you saved us from being broken beyond repair. Any other form of breaking …” He sighed and shook his head.

She closed her eyes again, and he rested his forehead against hers. She took shaky breaths and then pulled back, looking at him, the man she loved for most of her life. She moved her hand from his wrist and stepped back, moving his hands from her face, holding them in her own. She looked down at their hands, his so large, keeping hers safe within.

“Scully,” he said so quietly, it was like a breath. He interlocked their fingers and squeezed as she looked up at him. He searched her face and she smiled softly. He glanced at the candles and took a breath. “I don’t know where to begin, how to answer our mystery, Scully. I don’t know how to find someone who is determined to stay hidden, as he should, but …” He turned his head to her and smiled gently. “Without hesitation, I would go to the ends of the earth to find him, if that’s what I need to do.”

“For the second time?” she said with a soft smile and he smiled with a nod.

“I know a guy with access to a snow cat,” he said with a shrug, and she laughed softly before letting go of his hands and stepping closer to him, her hands on his chest. He stared at her, and she sighed.

“I love you, Mulder,” she whispered. He grinned and put his hands on her waist, holding her lightly.

“If I kiss you, will the lightning hit me?” he asked softly, and she laughed again.

“It won’t, but I might if you don’t,” she said quietly, and he nodded, bending his head and kissing her softly, making her heart race. He straightened up and his hands pulled her closer, his forehead once more falling to hers.

“I love you, Scully. More than you could ever quantify or understand,” he whispered, and she smiled.

“Show off,” she whispered back, his answering chuckle making her smile.

They stood there, in front of the light of the candles, the beauty of the stained glass beside them, foreheads pressed together, and silent prayers being said between them. She closed her eyes, her decision made, her heart at peace. He was there, holding the other end of the line, making sure to never let her go again.

____________________________________________________

Like I said, I choose to focus on the less gory aspects of the episode as the MSR is so much better to gaze upon anyway. For so many reasons. 

[beanpolebrianmay]

Practice

Pairing: Joe Mazzello x Reader

Summary: Joe comes to you for help with a different audition.

Disclaimer: I do not own any people, this is fiction.

Word count: 3612

Warnings: Teasing mention of a daddy kink, slight language (?maybe?), badly written fake movie scripts, and fluffy getting-together tropes are in your future.

…

The paper you held in your hands stared at you – unflinching and eggshell white and creased in the corner where it was held together by a staple. The last page. It was cool until the last page.

“Please, y/n?”

Joe hit you with his big eyes and you blinked, arching an eyebrow at him. It wasn’t as if you hadn’t helped him rehearse for auditions before; in fact, you were always the first one he asked. But this?

“Joe—”

“We won’t even do that part; we’ll stop right before it. It’ll be like any other role I’ve taken on, I swear. It won’t be weird. I’ve done parts where my characters kissed your character before, and it won’t be any different.”

“Joe, these lines are, like, uber-suggestive. And they don’t just kiss. It’s gonna be weird.”

“That’s why we stop before it. Please,” he whined, “you’re an actor too, don’t treat it any differently than taking on a role. That’s all this is, it’s not like I, Joseph Francis Mazzello III, am actually going to say these things to you.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Bringing out the full name, huh? You know that I’m not an actor. I acted as a hobby years ago and I do these lines with you, but that doesn’t mean that I’m an actor.”

“Well, as a professional actor myself, I say you are and superiority wins.”

You scoffed. “Not in my house, it doesn’t.”

“Not unless it’s your superiority,” Joe mocked back.

“I will not deny this. But back to the matter at hand, don’t you have someone else who isn’t your close female friend to practice with? An actress crush or something? Like, I’m pretty sure this is the entire plot to a rom-com somewhere out there.”

“No, I don’t, I would have told you if I did. And you’re my lucky charm – ever since I’ve started doing the audition scenes with you, I’ve been more successful in getting the role. Please, don’t make me mess up my mojo.���

You looked away from his pleading gaze and towards the packet in you hands again, considering the possible outcomes.

One: You go ahead with practicing, you say the things in the scene and he says the other things and then you spend the night re-brainwashing yourself until you believe the whole “I’m not attracted to this man” line again.

Two: You don’t practice with him and suffer through his grumpy episodes and your guilty conscience until he realizes his mojo doesn’t have anything to do with you at all, gets the part, and forgives you.

Three: You go ahead with practicing, you say the things and he says the other things and then you feel some other other things and he finds out and all the sudden your whole friendship thing is weird and practically over.

You glanced back at the man across the counter and met the puppy eyes he had trained on you.

Finally, a sigh escaped your lips. “Fine.”

Joe broke out in a grin and maneuvered his way to sweep you into a tight embrace. “Thank you, thank you, thank you so much, y/n. You don’t know how much this means to me.”

“I still don’t see why you couldn’t just find a different partner,” you grumbled. But the complaint fell flat with the smile that had inched its way onto your face. “Why is this part such a big deal, anyways?”

“It’s different.”

You let out a short bark of laughter, eyes scanning the words on the page again. “Yeah, that’s pretty obvious. But I mean, why does me practicing with you mean so much to you this time?”

“It always means a lot to me when you practice with me. Because it means that you’re willing to take time out of your day to spend with me and help me be get better at what I love doing. Quality time is my love language, you know,” he grinned, picking up the two packets and shoving yours into your hands. “Now let’s get cracking.”

“That sounds like something my dad would say. Stop being a dork, you old timer,” you tease, following him to the living room.

“Okay, three things. One: my dorkiness is one of my most attractive qualities, thank you very much.” You rolled your eyes but silently agreed with him. “Two: male life expectancy has really risen with the invention of modern medicine, so unless you know something about my date of death that I don’t, I prefer middle-aged if you don’t mind. And three: you know, I’ve been compared to a dad quite a lot in my life. Some of my fans online have even taken to calling me ‘daddy’ a lot, maybe I just have a dad energy?”

You stumbled and choked on your spit at this new information, a laugh bubbling out from under your desperate coughs and Joe pounding on your back with a grin plastered to his face.

“Joseph Mazzello, please tell me that you know what that actually means and you don’t think those fans really just think you have a father-ish personality.”

He dropped his smile and looked at you blankly for a second before breaking out in giggles. “You should have seen your face,” he chuckles, nudging you and turning to walk the rest of the way into the living room. “Are the red cheeks from embarrassment that I totally just got you or are you hiding a dirty little secret, y/n?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” you teased, hip-checking him as you pass to sit in the armchair opposite to the couch.

“Oh boy, would I ever.” Joe wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed, miming locking your lips. He sighed dramatically, flopping down on the couch. “Keep your secrets, then. But I’ll have you know that my character would totally have your character begging to tell mine all her dirty little secrets.”

“My character would be begging to tell her own secrets? Joe, that doesn’t even make sense.”

“It does in my world.”

“No wonder you are the way that you are.”

Joe chuckled, picking up the packet. “Okay, enough banter. This is a pretty short scene, especially with the, er, one part cut out. It’s also a pretty stage-direction heavy scene, so we’ll be moving.”

You nodded and stood up from the chair, reading over the lines. “Okay. You ready?”

“Yeah, let me just look over these one last time.”

You waited until he faced you and took a deep breath, meeting your eyes and nodding to signal the start of the scene.

Seeing Joe fall into character never failed to stir up feelings of intense admiration and pride in you. He really was an incredible actor, and with each role he came to you with, you had the pleasure of seeing the movie before it was made. Never mind that he didn’t always get the role, because it didn’t matter when he was always showing you what the movie could be with him.

This time was no different. Except when he had said that the role was different, he had meant it. Though it was no Fifty Shades of Grey, the film itself was directed towards adult audiences. This role was the opposite of who Joe was. The character wasn’t a villain, just a very focused, very serious and intense character.

So it really shouldn’t have stunned you when his usual demeanor melted off of his face and he fixed you with a heavy gaze. But it did. You felt your lungs constrict and looked down at your paper again in an attempt to escape him, but you could feel his eyes regardless.

“I’m not sure I understand what you want from me.” His voice was deep and smooth and decidedly not the Joe Mazzello you knew, which (and you would never admit this openly to him) he was right in the fact that it made it easier to slip into your character.

“I’m not sure if I understand it either. But it’s not my job to understand it, it’s my job to get it done.”

“I can’t give you what I don’t have though, you’ve got to see the problem in that fact.”

You sighed and swayed your hips as you approached him, his eyes never leaving yours. “I’m not surprised, you know. If I were in your position, I wouldn’t want to give the chip up either. And I’m going to be completely honest with you. I don’t agree with what the corporation is doing, and I don’t want them to get their hands on that tech either.”

Joe looked at you with cold suspicion. “Then why work for them?”

“Because there’s no getting out once you’ve gotten in. It’s a one-way street and if I had known that I never would have joined. But I did, and it still stands to be the stupidest decision I’ve ever made.”

Joe circled the coffee table with you. “And I’m supposed to believe your sudden change of heart?”

“You could, though it would be naïve and quite pathetic, seeing the things I’ve done to you and the people you love. I wouldn’t trust me either.”

Joe’s jaw clenched, and you stopped your circling to hear him. “You don’t know a damn thing about the people I love. You know very little besides the art of murder and blind loyalty.”

“I’m not arguing with you,” you relied in a soft voice, which only seemed to goad Joe on. He took three giant steps toward you and took the front of your shirt in his fist, face close and angry, but you didn’t respond other than to read your lines off of the script.

“Then why are you here?”

“I told you. I was sent to retrieve that chip.”

Joe broke character for a second. “Uh, there’s a sort of fight scene here, but they said to skip over it, so we’ll just continue on? Um, I think I beat you, and now I have you like this?” Joe spun you around and loosely put an arm around your neck in a one-armed sleeper hold.

In this position you knew that he could feel you swallow hard, but with your throat pinched in between his forearm and bicep, there wasn’t going to be a whole lot he wouldn’t feel from that area, so at least you had an excuse.

“Listen here, corporation bitch,” he spit, surprising you with his sudden transformation back into his character, “I’m going to give you an ultimatum. You either get the hell out of my house or I’m going to slice your throat into ribbons.”

“Big talk for a man who hasn’t done anything yet about the killer in his home.”

Joe grabbed a pencil from his back pocket that he had put in earlier – a makeshift knife – and dragged it across your cheek, lips twisting into a forced smile.

“You think I’m playing some sort of game?”

“I’ve been playing games with you since the beginning, I’ve just been waiting for you to play along.”

“Is that what you want?” Joe asked, spinning you around again and backing you up against the wall, his breath against your ear, continuing his trail of the ‘knife’ against your skin. “You want me to play along?”

You swallowed thickly, widening your eyes and breath becoming shallower. You were just a really good actor, of course, none of these reactions were actually real.

“I’m glad you’ve finally joined the program, Mr. Adams.”

“I’ve joined nothing of yours. And I never will. This is my game. My program. And if you want to play then you’ll play by my rules,” he ground out, almost cruelly, like he knew he had you in the palm of his hand. Everything about him was tense with rage and retribution from his fiery glare to his white-knuckled grip that he had on your shirt.

“Anything,” you breathed.

Your noses were almost touching and your breaths were shared between the minimal space between your lips.

“You think you can come here after killing the people I care about and what? What do you want if it isn’t the tech? I’m not supposed to believe that you’re such a whore you’d screw me without anything in return, am I?”

You let out a breathy chuckle. “I’m certain that I would get something in return, wouldn’t I, Mr. Adams?”

Joe pressed you only fractionally harder against the wall as not to hurt you, a slip of the real Joe in the midst of his character.

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?” As impossible as it seemed, he leaned in closer, but still your lips didn’t touch.

There was a charged pause, which Joe broke by letting go of your shirt and stepping back, laughing awkwardly. “Well, that’s where we end, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you repeated, clearing your throat and cursing the rough quality that the sentence had contained. “Again?”

Joe puffed out a breath, nodding. “Yeah.”

It was your regular routine to go over the script multiple times, except each time you changed the way you portrayed your character to help him acclimate to possible ways other actresses might play the character.

“What’s this movie about, anyways?”

“You’re actually playing the lead character. She’s an assassin retrieval person for this bad corporation but she wants out and my character is like, kind of the antagonist as first because she’s messed with him and his life a lot and he doesn’t like her for that, but ends up helping her in the end. Of course there’s more to the story than that, betrayals and almost deaths and things. I think this scene is one before she turns good and she’s just using sex appeal and passion to get the tech my character has.”

“Nice.”

Joe laughs. “Yeah, for you. I’m just the poor fella who keeps getting duped. The poor guy just can’t catch a break.”

“He doesn’t seem all too logical to be honest. I mean who would actually sleep with their enemy?”

“I mean hey, when the urge strikes,” Joe grinned, anticipating your punch to the arm.

“Keep it in your pants, it’s not that hard.” Joe wiggled his eyebrows at that and you gave him another punch, although you laughed at the unintentional innuendo.

“Okay, ready to go again?”

“Bring it.”

The two of you went over the scene for another two hours, trying out different methods and getting more and more into character. By the time you had both agreed one last time before calling a night, Joe had a comfortable grip on his character and was more natural in his line delivery and actions.

This being said, it meant that he was no longer acting as though you were a china doll, and his grip got tighter and his tone got nastier. You could almost believe that he hated you to the point of crazed, impassioned, yet reluctant attraction.

He had his forearm pressing your clavicle, and in turn your torso, harshly against the wall, yet again. “You think you can come here after killing the people I care about and what? What do you want if it isn’t the tech? I’m not supposed to believe that you’re such a whore you’d screw me without anything in return, am I?”

You gasped in a strained chuckle, as if out of breath and lustful. “I’m certain that I would get something in return, wouldn’t I, Mr. Adams?”

“You’ve got some nerve, you know that?”

It was at this point that you expected him to step away just as he had been doing, but the atmosphere had shifted in the two hours you had been rehearsing. The droplet of sweat beaded at your temple wasn’t from physical activity, and his pupils had been steadily expanding each time he manhandled you against the wall.

“Um—” You swallowed, unsure of how you wanted to end that sentence.

“Yeah,” Joe breathed out. His eyes dropped to your lips and you felt your heart beating frantically against his arm, which was still pressed across your chest, pinning you to the wall.

You swallowed again. “Are you – um – are you sure that you don’t want to practice the scene just once more?”

“No,” he said softly, eyes not leaving your lips, tongue peeking out to wet his own. “Are you sure you can’t help me practice the next part?” He flicked his eyes up to yours briefly, not letting you look away, needing to make sure what he was about to do was okay with you.

“I think I can spare a few minutes of my time.”

As soon as the confirmation left your mouth, he replaced the words with his lips. His arm lifted off your chest and his hands rose to cup your jaw, gently pulling your face to his and eliminating any space that had been left during the scene (aka, not much).

And although his actions were soft, the kiss was anything but. He kissed you with a passion that made you dizzy – though you weren’t sure if it was the passion or lack of oxygen. He pulled away and you both drew in a breath, but before you had time to ask questions, Joe was kissing you again, his hands roving from your jaw to your shoulders to your waist to your hips. His kisses were hungry, and you were giving as much as you were getting, but there was a niggling voice in the back of your head flashing red warning signs of “stop now or forever regret this.”

You tried to ignore it for as long as you could, but when Joe’s lips started kissing down your neck and his body pressed you even harder into the drywall behind you, you knew you had to stop and regroup.

Gently, you pressed your hands against his chest. “Joe,” you whispered into his ear, “Joe, I don’t think the making out against the wall part of the scene was this long.”

“You’re right, they moved to the bedroom much faster,” he panted against your shoulder. “But I’m getting the feeling that you’re not going to help me practice that part of the scene today.”

“Simply astute, my dear Sherlock,” you joked, trying to alleviate the thick tension that still shrouded the two of you. “Is it just me or is it incredibly warm?”

“It’s not just you, I’m pretty sure it was the both of us. Rude.” You giggled and pushed him away from you, sliding down the wall and patting the floor beside you.

“Pop a squat, I think this is one of those things you’re supposed to talk about with your best friend.”

“What, gossip time? Alright then,” he said, sitting down and rolling his head to face you. “So you’ll never believe this, and don’t laugh at me when I tell you because I might just cry and have to gorge myself in Ben and Jerry’s –”

“Even though you’re lactose intolerant,” you interrupted.

“—Yes, even though I’m lactose intolerant. But anyways, you’ll never believe it, but I finally got the courage to kiss the woman I’ve wanted to for a long time today. It was pretty hot, if I do say so myself.”

Your lips parted on another snarky reply when you registered what he had said.

“Wait, what?”

Joe swallowed, but he had already gone this far. “What? I thought kissing your crush was the thing you were supposed to talk about with your best friend.”

“I mean it is, but – Joe what – I don’t understand,” you spluttered.

Joe grasped you by your shoulders and looked you dead in the eyes. “I like you. You are simultaneously my best friend and my crush, as juvenile as that sounds, and the opportunity presented itself and I kissed you and I liked it and I like you even more and I want to kiss you again but I won’t until you say that I can but fuck, y/n, I’ve never wanted to kiss someone again so badly in my entire life and if you don’t say that I can soon I’m going to have to excuse myself to go home and bash my head into the tiles of my bathroom while I take a cold shower –”

“I can’t very well say anything if you keep rambling, Joe.”

“Right. Yes, rambling, right, I won’t do that anymore.”

“I had no idea that you liked me. That’s insane.”

“Like, a ‘wow seeing that singer in person was insane’ or a ‘wow I can’t believe my best friend has been perving on me for the last five years, he’s insane’? Because those are two vastly different kinds of insane and I would really rather be the first.”

You rolled your eyes and shook your head. “Joseph Mazzello, I’ve been trying to deny my feelings for you since about three months after I met you. It’s definitely a good kind of insane.”

Joe’s face lit up. “Wait, you like me too? Really?”

“Really really,” you said, grinning back.

“Does that mean I can kiss you again? Because I think I really need the practice, you know, for the audition.”

“That means you can kiss me again and again and take it from me,” you breathed with a smirk, fingers tugging his collar so that your lips brushed against his with your next words, “you don’t have anything to worry about.”

[marvxlousqueen]

Joe Mazzello- Let me love you

word count: a little over 3k

warnings: fluffy smut (like really soft) and the rest is fluff :))

summary: inspired by this audio i found tehehe-- reader and joe have been friends since high school and have a high school reunion and reconnect :))

(Y/n) felt strange being back in her old bedroom. Nothing had changed, same colorful comforter on her bed, same posters scattered over the walls. Her high school reunion was tomorrow, and she was not looking forward to seeing everyone who had been mean to her in high school. The good news was she wouldn't be completely alone. Joe was tagging along with her and staying in her parents home so he didn't have to get a hotel. (Y/n) and Joe had known each other since 8th grade, having shared a homeroom and algebra class. During high school they became much closer.

In freshman year, (Y/n) was completely overwhelmed by the huge lunch room, unable to find anyone she knew to eat with. Joe had bumped into her while trying to hop behind her in line. That was the first of many lunches they shared. Turns out they had fifth period together in freshman year too so they grew close quickly.

In their sophomore year, Joe and (Y/n) went to homecoming together during first semester. Well, not together-. Joe could never see me like that, she had thought at the time. He had even said it before.

Joe had said something like along those lines during their junior year, their year with their biggest fight. She had brought up going to prom together and that's when he had started their biggest fight ever. 

"You think I can't get a date to prom? You think I need to go to prom with you? I could get a real date if I wanted, I don't need to go with a friend!" He had made such a scene in the library where they were studying, (Y/n) still remembered how embarrassed and angry she was. "I didn't say that! I just thought we could go together like we did with homecoming last year and why are you yelling at me! Girls don't like it when you yell at them, no wonder you can't get any girls to even look at you besides me!" This had shut him up. He didn't even want other girls to look at him. And he definitely didn't want to go to prom with another girl. 

He was just upset after seeing some douche flirting with (Y/n) at her locker that morning. He had made her laugh and making (Y/n) laugh was Joe's thing. I'm funny, I don't see why she needs to talk to him to get a laugh. I could make her laugh more than that asshole could, he had thought.

Joe had actually only managed to make (Y/n) cry that whole week after their screaming session in the library. It broke his heart to see her with red, puffy eyes that used to stare at him with warmth, now acting like he didn't exist. That whole week (Y/n) ignored Joe until he finally begged for her forgiveness by showing up at her house with donuts the night of prom. Neither of them went, secretly not wanting to be there without the other. 

"Joe you were such a dick! You think donuts are going to make up for that? I just- oh is that jelly filled? Fine...you're forgiven. Just get inside, I'll put on a movie." They had spent the whole night eating too many donuts and marathoning Indiana Jones, like they always did, until (Y/n)'s parents made Joe leave ("No boys in the house past 11 o'clock, (Y/n)!"). 

Why was high school so dramatic?, she thought to herself wandering over to her closet, high school memories coming back to her everywhere she looked. She opened her closet, seeing mostly old hoodies and tennis shoes. She shuffled to the back, and something red caught her eye. Her senior year prom dress. Red with some gold decoration, it was still gorgeous to her. Senior year, Joe had asked her to prom, possibly attempting to make up for not wanting to go to Junior prom with her. It hadn't been too big of a promposal- he had found her in the student parking lot one morning with a small poster and a stereotypical box of donuts, spelling out the word "prom?". She was happy he didn't do it in the cafeteria or else she might've died from embarrassment- not because she was embarrassed by Joe, there was no why she could be embarrassed by him-just because she always thought couples who did things like that were so extra. But Joe and I aren't even a couple... just friends.

She had given him a big hug after saying yes, face burning from the thought she had about the ‘couple’ thing. 

(Y/n) was broken from her memories of high school when she heard the doorbell ring. She rushed down to get it, knowing her parents wouldn't since they were out of town. Opening the door, she saw Joe holding a box of donuts, suitcase on the ground. "Hey (Y/n)!" He wrapped his free arm around her. "Joe! This feels all too familiar. Come in, come in!" 

It had been a few months since Joe had seen (Y/n), busy wrapping up press and award shows for Bohemian Rhapsody. (Y/n) on the other hand felt like she had just seen him because she was always watching his latest interviews and keeping up with everything he posted. After placing the donuts down and moving his suitcase inside, Joe engulfed (Y/n) in a bear hug, not letting go until she patted his arm. "Alrighty Joey, I can't breathe." He let go, missing her warmth already. "So, what are we going to do first? Reunion's not till tomorrow night." She responded with a big smile, "Well, since we are taking a trip back to our high school, why don't we make this like our standard high school Friday night. I'll pop some popcorn if you turn on the TV. The Indiana Jones disks should be somewhere around here."

Standard high school Friday night, great. (Y/n) always enjoyed their nights, laughing carefree, just happy to be with a friend. Joe on the other hand used to always have to focus on not turning red when his hand accidentally touched hers in the popcorn bowl or making sure to not get hard when she pressed against him during a night of cuddling on the couch. He turned on the TV, popping in the disk to the ‘Raiders of the Lost Ark’, which had been laying in it's old spot under the TV mantle. (Y/n) returned a few minutes later from the kitchen, carrying popcorn and a few bottles of root beer. She took her usual spot on the couch, leaving room for Joe to sit next to her. “I missed this. I missed you, Joe.” 

Joe’s heart started beating faster and he felt heat rush to his face, no doubt turning him a bit red. “Me too, (Y/n).” She scooted closer to him, head resting on his shoulder, which caused him to instinctually move his arm to wrap around her. They stayed like that for a long time, afraid to move in case it caused the other to switch positions.

After putting on the second movie, (Y/n)‘s head moved into Joe’s lap in an attempt to get more comfortable. “This couch used to be so much bigger, guess we’ve grown a bit since high school.” All Joe could do in response was cough and nod, trying not to let the image of (Y/n) that close to his crotch cause any changes in his pants. Suddenly she sat back up, “Come on, Joey! Let’s cuddle like old times!” 

“W-what? No, we can’t cuddle, adults don’t cuddle.” (Y/n) rolled her eyes, “Shut up and lay down, Joseph. Plus you are not an adult, I see all the childish stuff you post.”

“Oh god, you’ve seen that stuff?” He asked, while shifting to lay next to her back, her facing away from him, their bodies almost touching. “Of course, I pay attention to what you do. I like seeing that stuff, keeps me sane knowing that you’re okay. Otherwise I’d have to get up and kick some Hollywood ass.” This made him laugh, “Yeah you’d be able to do so much damage.”

“Shut up!” She threw a pillow at him, probably missing since she didn’t bother to turn around. “How much did you see on Instagram?”

“Well, most recently I enjoyed the karaoke video, truly iconic, Joe.” He groaned, stealing a blanket from her, pulling it over himself. “Hey! It’s cold! Give that back!” Knowing she wouldn’t be strong enough to take back the blanket, she settled for snuggling closer to him, her ass pressing into his crotch.

She’s got to be doing that on purpose, he thought. (Y/n) moved her ass farther into his crotch, effectively rubbing up on him. Finally, she stopped moving, getting comfortable. As (Y/n) drifted off, Joe continued to try and slow his breathing so he didn’t get a boner. Joe stayed awake for the entire ‘Temple of Doom’ movie, still worried he might wake up hard if he drifted off. 

Once the movie ended, Joe turned off the TV with the remote. Seeing that it was past eleven o’clock, he slowly shook (Y/n) awake, feeling guilty for waking her when she seemed so peaceful. “Hey, (Y/n). You gotta get up and go to bed, okay? Come on.” Eventually her eyes fluttered open and she jumped a little, not expecting Joe to be so close to her. “O-oh hey. What time is it?” 

Looking back at his phone to check, he responded, “11:19. Come on, I’ll help you to your room.” He pulled the blanket off of her, climbing over her (since he was still behind her, pressed into the couch) to help her stand up. 

After a hard climb up the stairs to her room, she let herself fall onto her bed, feeling it dip as Joe sat down next to her. “I haven’t been here in so long, wow. Nothing has really changed, though.” She nodded, starting to actually wake up. “I know! It’s crazy how much time has passed...”

Joe checked his phone again, wondering if he should leave her and go to bed or if he could stay with her for a few more minutes. “It’s 11:30.. That’s kind of funny. I was never allowed to stay past 11, you remember that?” (Y/n) laughed, remembering how crazy her parents were when she was in high school, worried about her fooling around with a boy. She nodded, looking at Joe to find him staring back. 

“I always wanted to stay past 11... just to see what we would do if I did.” His face turned red, knowing that his high school self would’ve probably cum in his pants if he even thought about spending a night in the same house as (Y/n), let alone sat in the same room as her past curfew. She said nothing, too busy processing what his words meant. Joe stood up, thinking he made a mistake, “I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that, it just came out and it sounds so weird. I’ll just go to the guest room now-” 

“Wait, no, Joe, just.. stay. I-I always wanted you to stay...” He sat back down next to her. “Okay.”

They sat in silence for a while, every so often their eyes would meet while trying to sneak looks at the other.

 “Joe-” “(Y/n)-”

“You can-” “You go-”

After struggling to get the words out, Joe took the lead, “I liked you in high school. I really liked you, a lot. I-I, um-like.. like senior prom? You remember that, of course you remember that, anyways- I, I wanted to take you as my date, not as my friend, but-but you didn’t seem to think it was for real so I didn’t say anything and I really wish I did because maybe we could’ve started something and been together- but even before then I liked you and I just-”

“Joe!”

(Y/n) interruption finally shut up his rambling. “I liked you in high school too, so much and I’m sorry I didn’t see prom as a date, I just thought you would never want to do something like a date with me. I mean you did say that during junior year, so-”

Joe hung his head, regretting so many of his stupid high school choices, but that outburst was by far his worst decision. “I’m really sorry about that, god I was such a dick back then-”

“No you weren’t Joe.”

“Yes I was. I was just jealous.. high school was stupid.” His face was turning more red as he thought more about how he acted back in the day.

“Jealous, huh? That’s kind of flattering..  and high school was stupid.” He nodded, looking up at her, giving her a lopsided smile. 

“Joe, can.. can I tell you something?” She scooched closer to him, her knee touching his as their feet dangled off the bed. He nodded, holding eye contact with her, trying to read the emotion in her eyes. “I didn’t just like you in high school.. I still.. I still like you, Joe- and I’m sorry if that’s weird to you and I know you are so busy with your work and different projects but I really think we could do well together and-” 

It was his turn to shut her rambling down, which he did by placing a quick kiss on her lips. “W-what? What was that?”

“A kiss.. mostly to get you to stop talking, but also because I like you too. I have since sophomore year.” She leaned into him, pulling his face towards hers, this time sharing a longer kiss, still just as sweet. As the kiss continued, (Y/n) fell back onto her bed, heading hitting her pillow. Joe moved up with her, not breaking the kiss. His arms fell next to her head, holding him over her. 

Joe finally moved his lips down, kissing her neck. “Let me love you, (Y/n). Let me show you like I’ve always wanted to.” (Y/n) nodded, pulling Joe’s face to hers for one last kiss before she pulled off his shirt, hers following after. Joe had seen (Y/n) in a swimsuit before, but seeing her in a bra was far more intimate, and a sight that Joe never thought he would see. He took a moment to admire her, but (Y/n) didn’t feel insecure under his watchful eyes, knowing they were filled with nothing but love. After placing a kiss on her shoulder, he moved to unclip her bra, slowly pulling it down her arms.

(Y/n) enjoyed the gentleness of it all. Too many times had she been with a guy where it was all rush, no passion. She was loving his warm eyes roaming her body, his soft touches on her skin. 

She moved her fingers under his shorts’ waistband, toying with it as she slid it down his thighs. He took her hands in his, moving them above her head. “This is about you, sweetheart. Just let me love you.” He let go of her hands, moving to massage her breasts, before leaving love bites over both of them. He kissed down the valley between her breasts, making his way down her body slowly, leaving her writhing in anticipation. “Joe please..” (Y/n)’s voice was breathy, already almost moaning for him. Joe was loving every bit of it. He looked up into her eyes as he pulled down her leggings and panties with his teeth. He pulled them off all the way afterwards with hands, throwing them on the floor to be picked up later.

He spread her legs, eyes widening as he saw how wet she was for him. “You look- you look so beautiful like this, (Y/n). All laid out for me, dripping for me.” He placed a kiss to her clit before swiping his tongue through her folds. “Fuck, Joe.. you feel so good.” He continued his gentle attack on her pussy, finally entering her with his tongue, fucking her slowly with it. “Oh my god, Joe!” (Y/n) let out every moan she felt coming, knowing no one could hear her in the empty house. Joe felt her thighs tighten around his head, her pussy clenching. She was close and was getting louder as she moved closer to her end. “F-fuck Joe- please faster.” 

Joe obeyed her, tongue moving up to suck her clit, while his fingers started to fuck her, faster and faster until she released around his fingers. “Oh, Joe!”

He sucked her juices off of his fingers before moving back up the bed. “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to hear you scream my name like that.” 

“Now it’s my turn.” She was about to move to his shorts before Joe stopped her. “No-no, tonight’s just about you.” (Y/n) felt heat rush to her face, turning her a bit more red than she already was from her orgasm just moments before. “Okay, then please just fuck me, Joe. I need you-please.”

He slipped off his shorts, his underwearing following immediately after. (Y/n) let out a involuntary gasp, causing Joe to laugh along with boosting his self confidence. Joe was definitely a blessed man in the pants. He moved one of her legs around his waist, looking back up at her before pushing in.

“Ohh fuck, (Y/n), so tight, so wet for me.” He pulled back out before thrusting back in faster, her wet pussy making obscene noises around him. “Shit, Joe!” Her moans spurred him on to go faster, pushing his body closer to hers. He moved his hands from next to her head to her hands, which were gripping the sheets with white knuckles. He intertwined their fingers, holding eye contact as he pounded into her. “Fuck (Y/n)-you feel so good.”

Joe felt himself coming to his end, his senses overwhelmed from being so close to her, feeling the love she held for him. Joe reached one hand down to rub her clit, not wanting to finish before she did. “O-Oh god Joe! I’m so-”

“Me too, come with me-” He thrusted into her harder one last time, before cumming in her. “Fuck!” At the feeling of Joe filling her up, (Y/n) was pushed over the edge. With a final scream of his name, she finished, her cum leaking down his cock. 

Joe pulled out slowly, knowing how sensitive she would be, before jumping up to get a towel to clean her up. He returned with a wet towel, face blushing once he realized he was still naked. After cleaning up, he took his spot next to her, his face in her neck, placing soft kisses. Before drifting off for the second time that night, (Y/n) reached out to grab his hand and placed one last kiss to his lips for the night. 

[neo-cherryy]

“Will I Be the Lead?” (P3) || Finn Wolfhard

“Will I Be the Lead?” : Part 1 || Part 2

Requested: yessss

Tense: 3rd person

Summary: Josh and Finn hang out whilst (Y/N) is away with her boyfriend, of whom both disapprove. Josh notices something and Finn comes to a realisation.

A/N: okay so this sucks but the next one will be golden // I wrote this whilst listening to Spendtime Palace & (Joe Keery’s band) Post Animal who im proper obsessed with

Get It Straight by Spendtime Palace blared out from the speakers of Josh’s car, after multiple song skips from Finn, since he used his phone through the aux cord. Both he and Josh were hanging out since (Y/N) was away on a skiing holiday in France, with her boyfriend and his family for the week. It had left the two boys to spend their time together, practically every single day. Finn was dancing in his seat but was stopped after his phone vibrated with a notification. He rolled his eyes and quickly showed Josh, as he turned his head down to look at Finn’s phone, he had the same reaction with an eye roll. It was yet another photo that she’d posted of her on the holiday, hugging the boyfriend.

Finn didn’t bother to double click and, instead, swiped up to close the app. “Daniel sucks arse,” Finn mumbled, putting his phone down and trying to listen to the music.

Josh laughed slightly, then spoke up over the music. “Did you see her dad roast him, though?” he asked, eyes diverting to the rear-view mirror and then back in front of him. Finn laughed, pointing towards him as he looked.

“Yeah, I did,” he shook his head and kept laughing. “She got so mad, it was hilarious,” the two laughed before Josh attempted to park the car in a spot near to the front entrance.

The two were attending a meeting about a making of a film, something they’d hoped (Y/N) would be around for. They specifically planned filming dates for when she got back off holiday, but the two were convinced that Daniel would get her not to. Finn nodded along as Josh described the film, occasionally adding things in himself.

“How long do you think we have to wait out here for?” Finn asked, agitated already after only a couple minutes. They’d been told to sit outside the room in a reception area so they’d decided to sit nearer on the balcony.

“I don’t know,” Josh said. “But long enough for us to talk about you and (Y/N),” the statement had caught Finn off guard. He just laughed and shook his head.

“What is there to talk about?” he questioned, shrugging as he spoke. “Just friends, always have been, never will be anything else,” Finn wasn’t sure what caused Josh to think anything different. Josh looked at him unconvinced, biting the inside of his lip in concentration. His eyes never left Finn for a few seconds before sighing and turning away.

“Besides,” Finn spoke up in attempts to defend himself. “She has a boyfriend, what is there to happen?”

Josh shook his head and laughed. “You mean ‘boyfriend’,” he held his hand up and quote marked with his fingers.

Finn laughed along, doing the same action with an obvious and sarcastic tone. “Oh yeah, boyfriend.”

“Josh, Finn?” A man in worn out jeans and a loose flannel walked out from the room, a smile tugged on his beaming face. “We’re ready.”

“Dude,” Josh wailed his arms about as the two skated down the street. “You cheated,” Finn laughed as Josh pointed towards him, doing a trick and then standing still.

“I didn’t,” he swatted his hand away. “Believe it or not,” he crouched down on his board, circling Josh, poking at his calves as he went round.

“You did,” Jake called out from the sidewalk, he was sat down next to Wyatt, previously watching the two bickering boys race each other. Finn held his arms up at him, fake shock plastered on his face. “Sorry, man,” he laughed, holding a hand to his chest.

Finn hummed. “Apology not accepted,” he crawled his skateboard towards him, jumping off abruptly and hugging his head. He kissed the top of his head multiple times and walked away to sit back on his skateboard. “Now I forgive you,” he moved his board side to side with his feet, alike to how he subconsciously spun on (Y/N)’s desk chair. Josh went closer to the group, all sat in opposite each other. 

“Have you guys ever glitched?” Josh spoke up, the others thought for a second before shaking their heads, all confused slightly by his question. “Like you know that can happen? Minor glitches in your life, like seeing a bird just hover or like maybe your eye twitches randomly for too long.”

“I don’t think that’s what can happen,” Jake spoke softly, thinking about it as he spoke.

“No,” Finn waved. “I actually think it can,” he turned to look at Josh. “The whole idea of the world being like a virtual reality, or something like that,” Josh nodded and clapped his hands. “Yeah, I don’t think my life’s ever glitched, though,” everyone stayed quiet. “(Y/N) would be talking for, like, ever, right now,” everyone laughed, mumbling in agreement.

Josh stood and patted Jake’s leg. “Race me,” he stood up along with Josh and they began to skate down the street. Finn moved to sit on the sidewalk next to Wyatt, legs out in front of him with his feet rested on his board. “One of you shout for us to go,” Josh called from down the other end.

“Go!” Finn shouted, both him and Wyatt laughing as Josh tried to win. He held a Naruto pose in hopes it would help with his speed, but it did nothing but make him slower. He extended his arm to try and knock Jake off. “Josh, stop,” he laughed.

“C’mon, lads,” Wyatt cheered, clapping his hands in motivation and excitement. “Jake, hurry up.”

“Yeah, I’m trying,” he screeched, as the two skated passed quickly. “That was me-“

“NO!” Josh screamed back in defence. “I won,” Finn shook his head and looked to Wyatt. Both stood up and walked towards Josh, and Jake. “Fuck,” he pretended to cry and hit his foot down on his board. “I’m suing.”

“My love,” Finn pleaded jokingly, falling to his knees and clasping his hands together. “Please have mercy.”

Josh and Finn would rather be anywhere else but here, at Daniel’s bands gig, which she had begged them to go to. They were stood towards the back, (Y/N) focused on the stage intently as her boyfriend played. It wasn’t that the band was bad, it was more to do with the fact that they didn’t like Daniel.

“They’re alright,” Finn shrugged. “I mean, he sucks but the others are good,” he made Josh laugh too loud, causing her to turn confused. They both gave her thumbs up for reassurance and faked a dance, she squinted at them before turning and laughing too.

Josh watched Finn, who was unaware of this, as his eyes diverted to (Y/N) multiple times. Josh never said anything, but he kept a mental note of the way he looked at her, and at the way he watched her swoon over the guitarist. He saw him occasionally roll his eyes, get uncomfortable and look to the floor. “Hey,” Josh spoke to Finn closely, otherwise he wouldn’t be able to hear him. “I’ve never asked why you dislike him so much.”

Finn shrugged, leaning close to Josh as well, but sideways as he kept a close eye on Daniel. “Same reasons as you, he’s just so egotestical,” Josh chuckled.

“It’s egotistical,” he corrected, patting his back. Finn looked at him, dead in the eye, and shook his head.

“I know what I said,” His eyes diverted to the attention of her coming towards them, beaming with her hands to her lips in a prayer sign. “Hi,” he laughed slightly.

“They’re really good, don’t you think?” she smiled, looking at the two. They looked to each other as they nodded, pulling convincing faces of interest.

“So good,” they muttered at the same time. “Like, wow,” they laughed, shaking their heads in false amazement. She clapped her hands and pulled the two into a hug, in which they both looked at each other wide eyed, feeling some sort of guilt. Finn then soon smiled to himself, which Josh caught, not that Finn had realised this again.

“Holy shit,” Josh pointed at Finn, looking over at Wyatt and Josh who were both wide eyed and their mouths were pulled up into knowing smirks. He turned back to Finn, “You like her.”

“No I don’t,” he laughed humourlessly and pulled a face, faking disgust. He blushed slightly and averted eye contact with him.

“Yeah you do,” He laughed, jumping and getting giddy, Wyatt and Jake doing the same from the couch. “Like it may be very subconscious but you definitely feel something for her because you don’t look at her like you wanna fist-bump her and push her to another boy, you look at her like she’s the only person in the world at that moment. You look at her as if you’ve never seen someone so amazing in your life,” he was out of breathe from talking so fast and was getting hyped. He began to bounce when he’d thought of another comparison. “No, you know what, you look at her the way she looks at a really good film or the sky at sunset,” he began to rise his voice in excitement. “No, even better, you look at her the way Mike looks at Eleven. Is that why it’s so full of compassion? Because you imagine looking at her?” Finn was amused at how excited and passionate Josh was being.

“Look,” Finn sighed, calming Josh down. He looked at Finn with anticipation. “Maybe I do,” Josh bounded along with Wyatt and Jake. “But,” he shouted, causing everyone to stop. “I’m not gonna be that guy that takes her away from someone and I’m not wrecking a friendship over some stupid crush,” he shrugged, looking at the ground. Wyatt and Jake sat down as Josh looked at Finn in the eyes, listening to him intently. “Okay, so yeah, but what am I supposed to do? You know, I’m not gonna serenade her and tell her to be with me because if she liked me, then she wouldn’t be with someone else,” Josh nodded. “It just sucks because I think we’d really work but then it’d fuck the whole friendship group up, because no doubt we wouldn’t want to be around each other if it didn’t work out.”

“You think people get married and think ‘okay yeah but don’t get your hopes up this won’t last’ or have kids and think the same?” Finn shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck as Josh spoke. “They take it as it comes, they go with the flow,” the boys motioned a wave, making Finn laugh slightly. “When I say her name, what do you think about?”

“Her?“

“Specifically,” he sighed, putting his hand to his forehead as he shook his head. “Like what specifically comes to mind?”

“I don’t know, I guess,” he thought for a second. “Her photography’s pretty good, I mean it’s more than pretty good it’s insane!” Josh waved for him to carry on. “She’s so creative, you know, and like we could be sat there and she’d always have something to say… about anything. You could get her to talk about cheese for over an hour and you wouldn’t be able to help but smile, because she’d come up with a film based around one singular piece of cheese,” he laughed to himself. “She’s perfect, and I know people complain about when you describe them as that because, you know, define perfect, but she is.”

“Finny is whipped,” Jake called out, making everyone laugh. “I’m gonna tear up.”

“My heart is crying,” Wyatt clenched at the material of his shirt by his chest. “That was the cutest shit I’ve ever heard.”

“Yeah,” Josh said. “When we do this music video, guess who’s gonna become a total jealous wreck?”

Finn looked confused and then finally caught on. “Doubt it.” Josh raised his eyebrows as Finn rolled his eyes. “’l’ll take your word for it, then, but this is a bad idea.”

“Since when have my ideas ever been good?” Josh laughed. “Doesn’t mean they never work, they always work.”

@trash-baby-edge-lord

@thelosversclubs

@tapetayloe

@love-your-little-thingss

@triggerfingerfunction

@pinkfairyfluff

@trickyholland

@arizona540

@themaddesthatter13

@dusktilldawntozier

@dauntless-initiate-hola

[thevampslyssa-blog]

The Moment I Knew- C24

{July 12th, 2015 Dallas, Texas Jonas Compound Nick- 22|Mel-21}

"You should've been there, Should've burst through the door, With that 'baby I'm right here' smile, And it would've felt like, A million little shining stars had just aligned, And I would've been so happy."

He had promised he was going to be there, he had told her that he wouldn't miss this party, it meant to much to the family, but most importantly... to her.

The Jonas family had decided to throw a 21st birthday party for the girl, as she basically was like one of their own, and it was what she deserved. So, all of her friends were invited, all their family. And if anyone needed to be flown in, they were flown in.

Over the years, she had become very good friends with a lot of the female artists the boys encountered, including but not limited to; Demi Lovato, Taylor Swift, and believe it or not, Selena Gomez.

The party was just getting started, there was alcohol in every container that you came across. Everyone was showing up currently, and Melissa kept her watchful eye on the door, waiting for him to show up...

He wasn't answering any of her calls or texts, she was honestly giving up trying to get ahold of him.

"I've got my eye on the door, Just waiting for you to walk in, But the time is ticking, People ask me how I've been As I comb back through my memory, How you said you'd be here, You said you'd be here."

One of the Jonases relatives came up to her, asking how the girl in the glittery red dress was, trying to strike up a conversation.

"I've been well, still calming down after all the Jonas Brothers things have really ended." she said softly, trying to keep the smile on her face.

Joe was the one to come up to her next, "he did say he'd be here, right, Popstar?" he asked, a sad smile plastered on his face.

"Yah, he promised me... but then again, everything hasn't been that great between us lately... the fighting, the tears... the... I hate—" she stopped herself before she could bring up the memories.

He glanced at her, sighing softly, "it's not like him to not push the bad feelings behind and not show up to an commitment." he replied, hugging the girl gently. "he'll be here." he whispered, kissing her head lightly before walking away.

"And it was like slow motion, Standing there in my party dress, In red lipstick, With no one to impress, And they're all laughing, As I'm looking around the room, But there was one thing missing, And that was the moment I knew."

She stood there, her arms across her chest as she felt like everything was falling apart. Yes, she was surrounded by all the people that loved her, but with the future of her and Nick very uncertain. Her world felt like it was crashing down.

"And the hours pass by, Now I just wanna be alone, But your close friends always seem to know When there's something really wrong, So they follow me down the hall, And there in the bathroom, I try not to fall apart, And the sinking feeling starts, As I say hopelessly, "He said he'd be here.""

As time went by, she felt the twisting in her heart increase as she looked at her phone more and more. "Still nothing..." she mumbled, tears welling up in her eyes as she threw her protected iPhone across the room. She felt the eyes of the boys, and Demi on her, feeling disappointed in the 22 year old boy.

He broke his promise to the one girl that meant the most to him. He unknowingly broke her heart as fast as he could snap his fingers.

He had no idea that he had done anything wrong, or did he?

Melissa let out a sob, as she tried to keep the emotions in check. Her small feet ran as fast as they could to the nearest bathroom, and she slammed the door, sob after sob making its way out.

"What do you say When tears are streaming down your face In front of everyone you know? And what do you do when the one Who means the most to you Is the one who didn't show?

You should've been here. And I would've been so happy."

"Mel!" Demi exclaimed, running after the birthday girl. "Babe, let us in." Demi begged, leaning against the door as she knocked. Joe and Kevin hurried over, Joe walked away to call his younger brother ready to give him a earful.

"No! Not unless he shows us." she sobbed, bringing her knees up to her chest as she let everything go. She was so fed up, and so exhausted that she didn't even feel the need to try and hurt herself... to inflict just the tiniest amount of pain on herself.

"C'mon babe. Everything will be okay. Even if he's not here, we will make sure you have the night of your life." Demi tried to make her give in.

After a few minutes of just Melissa's sobs, she opened the door, and Joe looked at her, "he's not coming.."

"And it was like slow motion, Standing there in my party dress, In red lipstick, With no one to impress, And they're all standing around me singing "Happy birthday to you", But there was one thing missing, And that was the moment I knew."

Soon enough, everyone was standing by the kitchen table, a big cake in the middle of it, and all the guests began singing the beloved song you sing on birthdays.

Melissa still was trying to keep herself in check. Hoping and praying that he would miraculously come through that door.

But of course, he wasn't showing up, did he even care about her anymore? Does he love her? Her mind wouldn't stop racing with all these thoughts... making her go crazy.

"You called me later, And said, "I'm sorry, I didn't make it, " And I said, "I'm sorry too, " And that was the moment I knew."

Later on, as Melissa was sitting on Nick's bed at the Jonas Compound, she was taking off her messed up makeup, crying still.

"I'm sorry I didn't make it Angel, you know how much I wanted to be there..." he begged for her forgiveness... but she wasn't giving into him that easily.

"Yah, Nick? Then why didn't you put in the fucking effort to be here on your girlfriend's fucking birthday?!" she exclaimed, holding the phone in her hand so tightly, it was beginning to scare her.

"You know I tried to get there Melissa. But with how busy I am at the moment with filming..." he made excuse after excuse. "I'm fucking sorry, okay?!"

"...and I'm sorry too." she let out a soft sob, and hung up the phone.

Their relationship falling apart... fading away instantly.

[chrisv73-blog]

Secrets - Part 1

Word Count: 3,712

Warnings: None mostly fluff.

Panic. The emotion gripping me as I all but sprinted from behind the bar and into the ladies room. I couldn’t believe what was happening. Being alone with him in my environment- his smell, his sounds, his skin, his hands, thighs- everything made any self-control evaporate into thin air. I was unraveling.

Two long years since I’d set eyes on him. This man had a hold on me unlike anything I’d ever experienced. Now he was here and I was so stunned- I ran. His ghost still haunted me like a secret you can’t tell.

I felt like such an idiot. Facing myself in the cracked mirror of our dingy employee restroom I rubbed my hands under the faucet splashing water across my cheeks.

A light knock came at the door. “You okay in there?”

“I’m fine.” Embarrassed. Stupid. Flustered. But Fine.

I stared, disheartened at myself in the mirror. “What the hell was I going to do now?” This was my job. I had to go back; smile, pretend, sling some drinks and make rent. Whispered dirty things, winks, grins, napkins full of phone numbers with broken promises was expected as a bartender. Give the experience and make them love you.

Having him walk through the door was never part of the plan. He is not the plan. A kaleidoscope of flashbacks were scattered in my mind. “Fuck, shit, shit, shit!” I slammed my hand down on the cracked ceramic sink.

I cracked the door and stepped out hoping that whoever I replied to was long gone.

Leaning against the wall there he was, waiting for me. Gorgeous and dripping, of course, he had to be even better looking than I remember. He couldn’t go from 19 to 21 and not be every woman’s fantasy now, a fucking international pop-star. I could not mortify myself in front of a less famous ugly- ex. No, definitely not.

I avoided eye contact. “I’m not fine. But I will be.” I hesitated before continuing.

Surely he knew how bad he broke me. He knew that some scars don’t heal. He had heard the stories from his friends by now.

Lifting my head, his smile made me nervous. Not the kind of nervous where I’m going to grab my mace from my purse when a patron gets a little too fresh and waits for me in the parking lot after work. No, his smile was cocky and hit me in the knees amongst other places. He made me nervous.

“How you been Shawn?” He didn’t need to know that I’d woke up at midnight to buy a copy of his most recent album as garbage men clanged and newsstands opened. He didn’t need to know that I cried for weeks after he broke my heart in his driveway with four simple words only to never hear from him again.

“I’ve been good, are you okay, you don’t seem okay?” Shawn’s eyes are distracting. I close my eyes and I’m back on the tattered couch of my apartment watching him perform on some music awards show. But after a blink I’m still here standing in front of him in my cut-off tied t-shirt, jean shorts with black ripped fish nets, combat boots, dark lips, cat lined eyes and messy blonde top knot. A far cry from the girl he knew. I’d changed and I knew it, he knew it.

I shoved past him, walking briskly toward my bar, determined to forge forward.

“Shawn you already know you fucked up, let’s not do this.” My supersize nerves were camping out in my body, but I would be damned if I would let him know it. Because if I think about what might happen in the next few hours - if I let him in even an inch then I’ll burst with anxiety.

I feel a lump rising in my throat. I swallow it down while my emotions live close to the edge. All I need is that trigger and the tears that dwell beneath the surface will bubble up and roll like gritty sandpaper down my cheeks.

Shawn is so good looking now that my co-bartender Melissa once called him fucking lickable when she was checking out a magazine picture of him online. Of course, she knows nothing of my past with him. Now he was here and our past was about to collide like a freight train.

“Wait, Kameron, wait a fucking minute, Jesus!” Shawn’s two strides caught up to my ten and I felt his long fingers grasp my elbow and turn me toward him.

Shawn is looking at me with reverence, his touch sending shivers down my spine. I wanted to be adored by someone, but it can’t be Shawn. Not after crawling back from the abyss I found myself in the last time he decided he was done with me.

“No we’re not doing this again.” I find my voice to verbally shout what I want to say but won’t, that he can’t walk all over my heart and leave me bewildered and confused when his next tour starts. “This isn’t a game I’m playing with you anymore Shawn.”

“Actually, I never play and tell,” he teased. Now I clutch my hands to my side even tighter as I suppress a sarcastic smirk. “I’m fucking thrilled for you,” I quickly add.

He winces as he slides his hand off my elbow, clearly contrite. “I’m actually really sorry about everything and how I handled it all.” Shawn hides his hands in his pockets head hung low.

Suddenly I’m laughing, not because I want to hurt him. It’s because I realize that this is in essence is the final phase of a breakup. The denial, the begging, the pathetic tender long goodbye “but I thought you loved me” pleas, whether it’s public or private, it feels the same. No one ever really knew about me and Shawn except for our friends, so I suffered in silence while he mended on a stage. Yet, here in this moment, there is no more argument, no more pointless debate I would never win and emerge victorious, the entire universe begins with the words I’m sorry: closure.

Shawn stands here in front of me. The crowd melts around me and I’m colder than ice. This is what we are now. I’ve moved on.

I decide quickly what my next move will be. Grabbing his shoulders I hug him and his cologne wafts through my nostrils. My palms start sweating and butterflies take flight in my belly, nothing more than aftershocks. I pull away as Shawn’s long arms squeeze me back and he buries his head in my shoulder. I pull away with more force and push an errant strand of hair off my cheek, then answer.

“Shawn, I live my life now based on my positive decisions. When I look back at the things in my life that really hurt sometimes the easiest thing to do is forgive.”

I mean it, truly, just now, I have forgiven the 19 year-old boy who broke my heart. He stands there feet melted into the ground as the bitter but blunt words hit him like a wounded animal. I take the opportunity to walk away with my pride, head high, the lioness.

(Hours later)

Shawn is so ridiculously handsome that it’s almost not fair. Now that I’m back behind my bar, in my element, on my stage, he watches me from the distance of his roped off corner. Melissa cornered me at the trash can as soon as I lifted the access gate. I told her only what I wanted her to know of course. Shawn wasn’t helping me keep the gossip from reaching maximum peak.

Time passes in the frantic pace of pickle backs, buttery nipples and lemon drops. I’m at least 3 deep at every corner. My memory puts Shawn aside as I pull them in, I make memories for my patrons and let them believe I’m the best friend they never had.

Turning around I’m disarmed to see Shawn and Geoff standing in front of me, looking over our beer list. Shawn motions me over and I lean down to hear him over the now thumping bass beat of some familiar dirty rap song. “Is there anyone waiting for you back home?” I laugh, a truly self-deprecating one. I have to, really. There had been no one romantic since Shawn. There had been men, but no one permanent. “Definitely, no, nobody waits for me.” I bite back.

Its then that I notice the familiar glazed over look I’ve seen on so many men here. I lean forward because I want to torture him and show more cleavage. I already worship at the altar of the genius who invented a push-up bra. Agent Provocateur has nothing on me.

Shawn licks his lips and burning desire is present in his eyes. “Kam”, he begins slowly, too drunk, but also clearly enjoying the taste of my name in his mouth as if he’s trying it on, rolling it around on his tongue like a cherry. “I am the biggest idiot in the world because you loved me wildly, crazily and passionately. I fucked it all up so bad.”  Words tumble off his lips like verbal diarrhea. I take a deep breathe, reassuring myself that I can deliver what Shawn needs. “You don’t want me tonight Shawn, you’re just lonely and drunk.”

“Nope, not drunk, wrecked for you,” Shawn stutters. His eyes blink ever so slowly another tell-tale sign an observant bartender recognizes. This is the longest conversation I have had with Shawn in two years. I can see that he has developed this uncanny ability to hop from witticism to raw and very honest emotional insight. It’s making him even more attractive if that’s possible.

I push back from the bar and swivel my hips around to the side, grabbing two stout beers from the cooler below. Twisting the cap I push them across in friendship. “Tell you what, those two are on me”, I say as I walk to ball cap Joe one of my favorite customers. “I’ll call you tomorrow, is your number still the same”, I shout.

Because I don’t know how I can begin to trust Shawn again I’m not so eager to agree to just have him come over. I’m pretty sure that’s where that conversation was headed. This could be especially complicated when the ex is an international pop-start and flirty and when I’m already entertaining after-hours thoughts about him. I’m in desperate need. My gauge is so far out of whack that I don’t know what’s up or down anymore.  What good could possibly come from any friendship with Shawn Mendes?

Next Day

Turns out I didn’t have to call Shawn. He managed to get my number from Matt and sent me a drawn out apology text for his unforeseen interruption at my place of work begging me to please meet him for coffee that afternoon.

I put my books away on my desk and take a quick shower. Twenty minutes later, I’m staring at my bed littered with outfits I have tried on and rejected. This is just a coffee, no big deal. It’s definitely not a date with an insanely hot ex-boyfriend who’s a popstar treated like teenage royalty. Whichever outfit I chose next will be the winning one. I reach for my favorite black jeans, an intentionally distressed torn grey sweater that’s soft on my skin and my chucks. It’s very me and with just a quick swish of powder, blush, mascara and lip balm on my bee stung lips I’m ready to go. I grab my coat and bag, head downstairs and take an Uber to our determined location.

When I arrive I swipe to pay and head into the little coffee shop painted emerald green tucked into the corner of a building. It’s a little out of the way, but I figured it would be a better location for less potential fan sightings. Shawn and I agreed to meet at three o’clock and I am only ten minutes late, so it feels like I’m on time.

He’s already here. Damn, I arrive nearly on time and I’m still late. Then again, Shawn was always the type to be on time, hold doors, and rise when I came in the room. Shawn was very chivalrous.

I walk up and he clicks to lock his phone and pushes it deep into his pocket of his $250 designer black denim skinny jeans. Damn he looked good. The olive green shirt he is wearing makes his eyes look hazel. Standing to give me a barely there kiss on the cheek my eyes flutter closed for the briefest moment at the feel of his soft lips near me.

I restrain myself and tuck away my emotions even if the sensation feels so good to me.

“Let me take your coat?” Shawn offers as he automatically slides it off my shoulders. I feel his hand gently graze the back of my neck. I decided last minute to pull my hair into a high pony. His fingers send shock waves down my spine. He folds my coat and lays it over the chair, waits for me to sit and finally pushes his long limbs into the seat next to me.

“So thank you for fitting me into your busy schedule, even though I wish you would have at least bought me dinner before taking me home”, Shawn joked.

I laugh. “Nice try. But we’re not there yet.”

He reaches across the table to clasp my hand in his, and my breath catches. He squeezes my hand three times reassuringly and the barest form of touch from him is dizzying. Maybe it’s because it’s been so long since I’ve been this physically close to him and had him touch my hand, but I pull away like he’s burned me. He places his hand on his lap and I miss it instantly.

“So where should we start Mendes.” I chatter anxiously.

Shawn takes a big gasp of air. His brow furrows and he wipes his palms anxiously on his jeans. I can tell that whatever comes next is weighing heavily on his mind.

“We could start with I’m a fucking fool. I got scared. I didn’t know how to have you and a career at the same time. So I shoved you away and spent the last two years living with that regret ever since.”

“Where is the tape recorder”, I laugh nervously. My eyes dart back and forth from his face to my hands.

Looking around the room anxiously I scan to see if anyone has their phone out. “I could so take down your career in one second if the story of us ever leaked out. You know the whole internet’s boyfriend thing and all.”

Shawn smirks, wagging a finger at me playfully.

“This guy, the guy you’re sitting in front of, he isn’t a pop-star, you know that right?”

Swallowing, here he goes again racking up more points in his favor.

“Because I can tell I’m making you a little nervous and I just want you to know it’s me, Shawn apologizing to you, meaning every single fucking word of regret. So let’s grab some coffee eh?”

We sit and chat about old times. We remember fond memories of public park scandalous rendezvous. I hold up a hand and stop him as he starts to recall the juicy parts with a mischievous glint in his eye. Slowly as each minute passes and Shawn discarded the beanie he was wearing we’re drawing more eyes on us, but Shawn doesn’t seem to care. In fact, the more people that begin to notice us the more unaffected by it all he is.

Shawn will excuse himself for a few minutes to take a few selfies and then slide back into the conversation like he never left. We did this for almost two hours. I tell him that I fucking loved his first three albums and I can’t wait to hear what he does next. He admits that he wrote a few songs about us.

Eventually he leans in closer across the table, looks me straight in the eyes and when he does that my resolve starts to weaken because his eyes are so beautiful and he doesn’t break my gaze. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve waited for this moment. How many ways I have played this dialogue back and forth in my brain?”

All I know about this moment is my body is buzzing, alive with possibilities. The exact opposite of the chill demeanor I had in the bar last night. Something shifts in Shawn’s expression too. His eyes, which I remember from 19 as playful and twinkling are now darker with an intensity to them. Neither of us says anything, and the electric quiet makes my blood turn hot. I don’t want a single thing to ruin this moment. Just as fate would be a young fan tugs at Shawn’s shirt, she can’t be more than 7 years old.

Whatever spell I was about to succumb to is broken. Holy Shit, that was close. I reach for my coat and bag before Shawn can stop me.

“Thai or Sushi for dinner,” Shawn winks.

I smile at him, giving him a flirty tilt. “You’re presumptuous.”

“Optimistic”, he counters with just enough swagger that tells me he hasn’t lost a damn thing in 2 years.

Shawn does that thing again – where he reaches for my hand, clasping his on top of mine. I’m suddenly aware of the pressure he is gently putting on my wrist, the small ridges from callouses on his otherwise smooth palm, not doubt from countless hours spent perfecting his craft. His skin feels hot on my skin. The taste of his lips would be deadly. I’m dying for him to slide his fingers through mine like old times but I can’t go back on this rollercoaster.

I slowly rise from my seat and Shawn follows me out of the quaint coffeehouse. I reach up to place my hands on his shoulders. He’s way taller than me. I catch the faint scent of his cologne again and I’m so tempted to lean in and inhale deeply. But I do resist.

But the look in Shawn’s eyes is full of hunger and then I feel the softest touch on my hair. He’s fingering a strand and I am so far gone that I’m not sure what to do next. All I know is I’m leaning in closer to him because this kind of touch from him I have missed so much. My body is racing and the moment is full of so much anticipation. “I really want to kiss you, Kam; you better stop me now or…..” Shawn sighs.

I can barely process his words. My head is so woozy, his smell and the feel of his hands. My fog is replaced by Shawn’s lips as he presses against mine with such softness, sexiness that my knees threaten to buckle. I keep my arms looped around his neck so I don’t fall. He wraps his long arms around my waist, tugging me closer as he deepens the kiss. Shawn’s lips exploring mine, his tongue tangling with mine, his hands yanking my pony tail. His sexy sighs and moans tell me that he is savoring this kiss as much as I am. He yanks me even closer and for a brief second I can feel him pressed hard against my upper thigh. He’s aroused and that snaps me out my kiss induced fog. I pull away.

“Shit”, he stumbles backward. “You okay? Kam, I honestly didn’t expect that to happen. Please speak sweetheart.”

“I have to go, Shawn I’m not your sweetheart, not anymore”, I stammer.

“But I want you to be. Let me drive you home”, he pleads.

“No Shawn. I know where that will lead.”

My hand touches my lips as we exchange a sidelong glance and Shawn clears his throat shoving his hands back deep in his jeans. Feeling his eyes on me I glanced back a few times, and his gaze was always waiting for mine.

Shawn takes his phone out placing a quick call mumbling something like plan B. A small black SUV rounds the corner and stops at the curb in front of us. “Kam this is Kevin, he’s one of my security team and he’s going to take you home. I’m going to call you tomorrow because I don’t want to push my luck.”

My breath catches as Shawn moves closer then presses his hips into mine while pushing me against the door of the SUV.  Lining his tall frame up against me in a way that makes it clear how much he wants me, he delivers a scorching kiss, deep and hungry and desperate in a lot of ways. It’s threatening to send me up in flames. I feel it across every inch of my body as he continues to explore my mouth with his tongue. One hand drops away from my face and I feel his fingers graze underneath my sweater along the waistband of my jeans. Shawn draws a simple feather trace line across my belly with his index finger and my back arches into him. I wish we were not here in public and he would undo the button, slide the zipper down and push his hand inside my panties to save me from this now excruciating ache between my legs. But I have no such luck because just like that he is reaching for the door handle.

I slide into the seat as Shawn shuts the door and bangs on the top of the car two times. I’m in this giddy drugged out state now that I’d like to stay in forever, but I needed some space to clear my head. I am tempted to shake it like I’ve just emerged from a pool of water. But yet amidst my confusion, four words are loud and clear like a drum in my ears- but they are not those four words from two years ago. The opposite. “I want Shawn Mendes.”

[glenngaylord]

NEXT TO NORMAL - My Review of EXTREMELY WICKED, SHOCKINGLY EVIL AND VILE (4 Stars)

It takes balls to tell the story of Ted Bundy, one of the most prolific serial killers in history, and not depict any of the murders.  This tale screams for lurid, horrific scenarios, all the better to grease those box office coffers, but director Joe Berlinger and screenwriter Michael Werwie have balls.  Much like the recent CHARLIE SAYS, which employed a feminist approach to telling the oft-told story of the Manson Family, EXTREMELY WICKED…, in its own low-key way, uses female empowerment as a fascinating new way to sell us on how Bundy was able to do what he did.  Despite mixed critical reactions, I was so impressed by this film, that I watched it all over again immediately after the first viewing.  

The story begins with Liz Kendall (Lily Collins) meeting up with Bundy (Zac Efron) on Death Row a few days out from his execution.  She carries a beautiful stillness in these moments as Ted stares at her and smiles, doing a double take in the hopes of charming her once more.  Before flashing back to the night they met in 1969, Liz gives Ted a cold, hard stare.  It’s a brief but vital setup for what’s to come, as we experience Ted Bundy through the eyes of this woman who loved him, but who also eventually realized his true nature.  While he’s wooing her with home cooked meals and other romantic gestures, he’s also preying on and killing a host of innocent young women.  

I’ve seen the other movies. I’ve read the books.  If I wanna see Mark Harmon swing a piece of wood at a Sorority pledge, I can watch THE DELIBERATE STRANGER from 1986.  EXTREMELY WICKED… does something completely different.  It seduces the audience just as much as its seducing Liz.  We barely see any of Ted’s victims, but their presence is felt through the way Liz believes in him even as the law closes in on him.  We see it in the groupies in the courtroom scenes and in the eyes of Carol Boone, who famously married Ted on the witness stand and had a child with him even while he was in prison.  For anyone who has ever taken place in victim blaming, who wondered how so many people could be fooled by Bundy, this film, along with Efron’s incredible performance, in giving us a great taste of his charm, his manipulation, and yes, even his psychosis.  It doesn’t exonerate Bundy in the least, but it DOES give power to the women who suffered at his hand.  

For a film which keeps its “money shots” offscreen, I didn’t expect it to be as cinematic as it was, but it’s a gorgeous piece of filmmaking.  Berlinger, a renowned documentarian  (CONVERSATIONS WITH A KILLER: THE TED BUNDY TAPES is also on Netflix now) whose only prior narrative feature was BOOK OF SHADOWS: BLAIR WITCH 2 from 2000, works with his cinematographer Brandon Trost (CAN YOU EVER FORGIVE ME?) to create one swoon worthy image after another, dropping the audience right into Liz’s woozy spell. The film uses a lot of shallow focus, grays, oranges, and blues to tell its hazy tale. I loved the cut from Ted putting a quarter in the jukebox to them dancing and kissing  to “Crimson And Clover” without so much as exchanging names yet.  

Eventually the point of view shifts slightly to Ted’s, but all of the information conveyed is only what Liz could have known from his arrests and escapes to his televised trial in which he bizarrely served as his own attorney.  It’s here where Liz may feel like a passive character as she rots away in an alcoholic haze, but it’s an essential part of her journey.  Collins does a great job showing us the baby steps Liz takes to becoming a powerful woman.  Her last scene with Ted is a total powerhouse as she begs with him to tell the truth and “release” her.  Efron and Collins are at the peak of their talents here.  Efron changes his facade ever so slightly to give Liz, and us, a glimpse of the monster.  He has so many brilliant scenes in this film, including the eerie way he makes a police officer who stops him feel like he’s just one of the boys.  Once arrested and feeling helpless, Ted gets much more belligerent, with Efron in full control of how Ted wanted to be perceived.  Take away the Bundy character, and it feels like Efron is playing every narcissistic sociopath who moves to Hollywood to mow down the competition on his way to the top…something which I’m sure he knows all too well.  

When Ted dominates the second half, we’re treated to some other great performances, including John Malkovich as the judge, who even in his last words to Ted, comes across as, yes disgusted by him, but also impressed.  Ted could even charm his executioner.  I also loved Kaya Scodelario as Ted’s loyal wife and mother to their child.  The film does a fantastic job of allowing us to understand his ability to fool her, while not judging her for being so blind.  It’s a tricky tightrope walk which I think the film nails.  

Many will gripe that the film normalizes Ted Bundy, turning him into a matinees idol.  I think they’re missing the point. Ted Bundy WAS a very good-looking, charming person, or at least he knew how to appropriate such behavior.  You still come out of this thinking he’s your worst nightmare, but, most importantly, you feel tremendous empathy for anyone who crossed his path. That final scene with Lily Collins fit perfectly into today’s #metoo movement in the stunning way in which her character asserts herself.  A straightforward telling of this story would have felt old hat. EXTREMELY WICKED… jumps through time, fast forwarding through the years, skipping over large chunks of the known story, and distills it down to giving us a path forward for those who survived his scourge.  Berlinger and Werwie, balls and all, deserve the credit for finding a new slant on an old story.