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thecircularlibrary · 1 month ago

Note

can you make a fic of Hawthorne game night will all the boys and their girls/wife

enjoy these excerpts from their game night!! sorry if it's a little short :/ fun fact: the cards against humanity game is inspired by a real one i played the other day

is that legal?

a hawthorne game night

word count: 894

warnings: cursing (they play cards against humanity for goodness sake)

pairings: all of them (except averygrayson fuck off)

As soon as Avery picked up the black card in their Cards Against Humanity game, she knew that she was screwed. There was no possible way she could come out of this alive and well. She needed to accept that. She looked down at the card to read it aloud and visibly cringed.

“Well if ______ is a crime, then lock me up!” She read, crying internally. “Please don’t make me say something stupid.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Heiress,” Jameson said next to her, smirking in a way that completely contradicted his statement. Avery looked around the circle to see everyone excitedly putting down their white cards.

Once everyone had placed them, Avery picked them up and shuffled all seven of them in her hand. She read them one by one.

“Changing people’s minds with logic and facts,” Lyra.

“Getting drugs off the streets and into my body,” Jameson.

“These hoes,” Libby. “Are you serious? That isn’t even grammatically correct.”

“The Blood of Christ,” Grayson.

“White privilege,” Xander.

“Existing as a person of color,” Max.

“Lumberjack fantasies,” Nash.

Avery picked Jameson’s card. She wasn’t going to touch Xander and Max’s.

The next person to draw a black card was Lyra. “Why is Brett so sweaty?”

Avery looked at her hand and sighed. Her cards were awful. She slid “Fox News” into the deck and called it a day. As Lyra read the submissions, there were a few standouts that were not Avery’s.

Jameson’s card: “Fucking my sister” and Max’s card: “Our mutual friend, Brad.”

Max won. The whole game.

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

“We either play Sushi GO, Throw-Throw-Burrito, Apples to Apples, or Uno. While I know it’s a hard choice, it can be decided easily if we have a fair vote and keep it civil, okay?”

Avery rolled her eyes from the kitchen at the sound of Xander’s voice trying to gaslight everyone into playing Throw-Throw-Burrito, which was confusing. Especially since there was no possible way it would work, considering he was the only one who liked the game. As she came back into the living room with a cheese board for his “vote” she laughed to herself.

“All for Apples to Apples, the kid version of the game we just played?” Xander asked. Max’s hand went up.

“Now Max, you know you can only vote once, right?”

“Yes.”

“Alright then. All for the card game involving raw fish toppings?” No hands went up.

“Anyone for the greatest game of all time, involving calculated risk, accurate aim, and speed/agility? Also known as Throw-Throw-Burrito?” Xander’s hand was the only one that went up.

“I thought he was describing Uno for a second,” Jameson whispered in her ear as he grabbed a piece of cheese from the board on her lap. She grinned at him.

“Fine,” Xander exhaled. “Who wants to play Uno?”

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

Playing Uno was a mistake, unfortunately. They should’ve just fumbled their way through Throw-Throw-Burrito. Because now that the game was down to Avery, Jameson, Lyra, and Grayson, it was getting aggressive. Specifically between Lyra and Jameson.

“I skipped you. Just like your dad,” Lyra said after playing the card. Grayson’s eyes widened.

“I don’t know how on Earth you think you can talk?” Jameson inquired as Avery and Grayson played their cards and it came back to Lyra. She played a reverse. “Because I’m the one who can actually place cards.”

“I refuse to argue with someone who started an online relationship,” Jameson mumbled. Avery elbowed him. He threw her a very specific look that had her giggling at the situation that was hilarious to her, considering she and Grayson both had two cards since Lyra kept dodging Jameson’s turn. When Grayson won, Jameson had to walk out of the room. Avery expected him not to return. The thing about a sore winner like Jameson, is that they tended to be sore losers too. To everyone’s surprise, he returned in the middle of their movie break, in which they watched Little Women, with a deck of cards.

“Let’s play Blackjack,” he grinned.

⤨☾⚝✯❁✯⚝☽⤪

They did not play Blackjack. They did play Slapjack.

“Ow!!” Xander’s yell rang out in the living room as he collected the cards he’d slapped.

“My bad,” uttered Nash, who hadn’t quite gotten to the deck fast enough and landed a full force slap onto Xander’s hand. This was the eighth time he’d done this. He was three cards from being out of the game, leaving Avery, Xander, and Libby in the lead. Libby was winning.

The card pile quickly grew to over twenty cards. Nash was long out of the game and everybody but the final three was hoping to slap back in. Avery and Xander were running out of cards. They almost didn’t see the hand that slapped the next Jack. They did, however, see Max’s celebratory dance.

Soon, Xander was out of the game but Avery had replenished her deck and was in the lead. When the next Jack hit, she managed to secure it, hoping to secure at least one win at this game night that wasn’t chess. She and Jameson were the only ones who ever played chess.

When she did win, it was when Libby’s last card was a Jack and Avery slapped it before she could or before anyone else could slap back in. It might’ve been the sweetest victory she’d ever tasted.

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witchthewriter · 2 years ago

Photo

𝑴𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝑫𝒆𝒔𝒊𝒓𝒆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐍𝐄.

Paid story for @yourwinchesterbros. Word Count: 1k Warnings: mentions of dead bodies, drugs...usual sons of anarchy malarchy - you know the drill

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

The night wasn’t supposed to go like this. Sure, you’d seen some stuff throughout your job working with Skeeter, and therefore the Sons, but this … this really took the cake.

“How the fuck am I meant to burn all this within the next two hours?” You snapped, looking at the blond-haired Prince of Charming.

See, most people wouldn’t get away with talking to him like that. Especially after the death of his wife, but what he was asking for was delusion at best.

Jax considered lighting up a cigarette, one of the only things keeping him sane these past few weeks. But his consideration for you was bigger than you knew.

“I know it’s asking a lot-“

You cut him off with a sigh. And then the door jingled, and you knew you were about to be surrounded by Sons.

“How’s it goin’ in ‘ere?” The well-known accent still sent shivers down your spine. Chibs Telford could always make you blush, even if you didn’t feel as attracted to him as … someone else.

“It’s going absolutely fine,” you grunted, moving to get the phone to call Skeeter. In any other circumstance a person reaching for a phone would set the Sons off, but not with you. Not now, anyhow.

The first time you interacted with the group of bikers on your own, you had about four different guns aimed at you. But for some reason… for some ungodly reasons, you just. Weren’t. Scared. Not then, and not now.

“Zo doesn’t think she can do it all tonight,” Jax replied to the Scotsman, his arms folding in front of him.

“Oh- I did not say that.” He had dangled the bait and you jumped straight for it.

“We’ll double yer usual price lass,” Chibs interjected, knowing the argument that was about to ensue.

Your eyes flicked to Jax and you scowled, “you could’ve started with that.” Pushing the end of call button, you shoved the phone into your back pocket and shook your head.

“I was getting to it…” he replied, a ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Nose flaring you said, “bring it around back.”

✶ ✶ ✶

You had gotten used to the stench of the crematorium. Probably not a good thing, but hey, with the pay being as good as this, you really couldn’t complain. Funnily enough, working with the Sons – you thought they’d be horrible. But they had always treated you well (once they trusted you).

Many others couldn’t say the same, but you knew you were always safe when they were around. The men each looked out for you in their own ways. Chibs brought food with him whenever you’d get a call at three in the morning to come to the crematorium.

Tig’s offering being some sort of drug; Xanax, weed, oxy. He asked if you wanted a dog once.

Happy was usually the one to stay later than the rest, to make sure you locked the place up and got to your car. He’s actually brought you some of his mother’s homemade meals.

Jax was different though. Always the first there and the first to leave, like being near you was difficult. Especially after Tara’s death. You had no idea but you reminded him of her in many ways. Headstrong. Stubborn. And your hair colour was very similar. It was a punch in the gut to see you. And it wasn’t just because of that. Even when he was married his thoughts drifted to you. It was wrong, he knew that. And that’s why now he felt even more guilty.

Out in the cold night air, the Scotsman gave you the fat envelope. The carpark was deserted, save for the motorcycles and your own car. That was another thing you had gotten used to, the eeriness of it all. Getting in your car and driving down here in the early hours of the morning. What some would call the witching hours.

You didn’t believe in the supernatural. Because if you did, then every noise, every moved object and creaking door would give you a heart attack. Most days you worked alone here, Skeeter entrusting you to do his services. He popped in for a few hours every week, and he wasn’t that bad of a boss. Creepy? Yes, but not in a I’m-a-woman-you-make-me-feel-uncomfortable type of way. He just had an air of unearthliness about him.

Since being the go between with the Sons and Skeeter, you had earnt their trust indefinitely.

The Sons heaved the bodies onto stretchers and wheeled them in through the back door. The fire had begun to swell and swell, making everyone who came near start to sweat. When Tig and Chibs saw that every piece of evidence was inside, they jumped on their bikes and left. Not before giving you a swift kiss on the cheek.

Inside, you had on your gear and made sure every piece of … what needed to be incinerated, was. It never got old, watching those hungry flames take their next victim. Eat them up and beg for more. Like a tiger in a zoo, the fire took whatever it could and hissed at whatever came near.

You looked at the clock that hung above the doorway, 4:35am. Your eyes stung, and you blinked a few times but it barely helped. Even with your goggles on, the smoke crept outwards whenever you opened the door.

Registering the time, you realised they had arrived an hour and thirty-five minutes ago, and a small part of you wanted the time to go over two hours. Just so you could wave it in Jax’s face. Was that cruel? You thought, but you shook your head and turned to close the door on the last body.

Shucking off your gear, you turned off the lights and locked each room you walked past. You knew Happy would be waiting outside. Grabbing your bag, you walked out the back door and locked that too.

“And you said it was impossible…” Jax’s voice drawled, with a lit cigarette in his hand.

You jumped, not expecting the proximity of another human being. Usually, Happy just sat on his bike, or on the bench inside.

“Good thing I get paid either way,” you retorted, trying to gather yourself from the scare. But you saw the way Jax’s eyes lit up as he looked at you.

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