#is also the moment i only have THREE WEEKS LEFT IN THE FUCKING CITY

[dwarvenchords]

this isn’t fair. that’s not nice oscar. why’d you do this to me.

the hair is hairing???

#f1 #formula 1 #oscar piastri #i’m so sorry ive disappeared everyone i’ve been having an INTERESTING time #long story short #the second i find someone who i really connect with and start having the cutest romantic plot of my life #is also the moment i only have THREE WEEKS LEFT IN THE FUCKING CITY #so kinda dying #on the bright side #i’m gonna write some FIRE fics when i’m reeling over however this ends up #so that’s something to look forward to #and that’s been my ramble for the day thank you goodbye

[libraryofgage]

Mermaid/Pirate Steddie Two

Part One

Have I already posted something today? Yes, yes I have but also I finally got through my block on this one hfjdks

I'll be working on Addams Family Steddie next but idk when that part might be coming out lol

anyway, as always, if you see any typos no you didn't ;)

---

Steve has taken over Eddie's large porcelain bathtub after it was moved to the main room of the captain's cabin. Steve is lounging in it now, a week into being on Eddie's ship, with his tail draped over the edge so he can submerge his head and breathe through his gills. It's infinitely more comfortable, even with the seaweed still wrapped along the length of his tail and reminding him of its presence with every twitch.

He sighs, bubbles rising from his gills in the "I'm beyond bored" pattern that Robin would light up at seeing. But she's not here, so Steve is left to once again turn Eddie's bat ring over in his hands, fingers brushing along the wings.

Eddie had shown him a drawing of an actual bat, and Steve still thinks they're freaks of nature. But he finds the ring itself a little endearing if only because it was Eddie's ring willingly given.

He smiles softly, the gesture only dampened by the sharp jab of worry over his guppies and Robin. They're probably losing their scales with worry themselves, scouring the sea and putting themselves at risk of being seen in their hunt for him. Steve can't even fault them, either; he would do the exact same thing if Robin or any of his guppies had been captured like that. He has done the exact same thing.

Steve sighs again, this time the bubble pattern expressing exhaustion and "What the fuck am I supposed to do now?" He kind of misses having someone who actually understands what his bubble patterns mean, but he knows it wouldn't be fair to get frustrated with anyone for their inability to gain meaning from bubbles floating toward the surface.

He thinks, maybe, the worst part is being confined to the tub. Sure, it's infinitely better than the fucking bucket from the other ship, but Steve is still getting restless. He's like a guppy that's watching its siblings swim but still doesn't have the tail strength to swim itself. He feels trapped and has way too much energy with nowhere to spend it.

Steve hasn't mentioned this to Eddie, though. He'd been planning to, of course. In fact, he intended to tell Eddie that morning, but then they'd docked at some port city and Eddie had run off with the promise of being back soon. Steve had tried not to feel a little abandoned, left by himself with fucking nothing to do while Eddie prances around on land.

Before he can get too far into this line of thought (he's about three minutes from convincing himself that, really, Eddie shouldn't have left and could probably be taught the basics of bubble patterns as punishment), Eddie practically barrels into the room, vibrating with something Steve only recognizes as excitement when he sees Eddie's grin.

Steve surfaces, pushing his hair out of his eyes and leaning on the edge of the tub, twitching his tail slightly and exercising incredible control to keep from preening when Eddie's gaze lingers on it. "What happened?" he asks, slipping the bat ring onto his thumb, the only finger it fits.

Eddie drops to his knees, scooting closer to the tub until their noses are almost brushing. "I've got a surprise for you, sweetheart," he says, voice light and eager.

"Where is it?" Steve asks, returning Eddie's smile.

"It's on the deck! Do you trust me?"

For a brief moment, Steve thinks Eddie is about to throw him back into the ocean. Which, like, wouldn't be a bad thing, but Steve would be incredibly offended by the suddenness and wonder if he'd been imagining the draw between them.

But he's sure Eddie wouldn't do something like that without asking first, so he tucks it away as something only slightly possible. Steve nods and pulls back, bracing his hands on the edge of the tub before pushing himself up. He perches on the edge, his balance a little unsteady as he looks at Eddie.

Thankfully, Eddie catches on quickly. He scrambles to his feet and scoops Steve off the edge of the tub, one arm under his tail and the other wrapped around Steve's back. Steve holds onto Eddie's neck, still a little paranoid about being dropped despite Eddie's prior insistence that he wouldn't let anything happen to Steve.

"I think you're gonna love it," Eddie says, his voice soft and his breath warm against Steve's cheek.

Steve gets the urge to ask again, but he holds back as Eddie carries him up to the deck. The sky is covered in clouds, keeping the sun from blinding him when they emerge from the stairs. The deck is concerningly large for such a small crew, and Gareth is currently lounging against the mast, a hat pulled low over his eyes as he sleeps.

He's not very attention-grabbing, though. Not when there's a large...contraption in the middle of the deck. It has four wheels and is shaped like a boat, big enough for Steve to sit comfortably without his tail draping over the edge. There are cranks of some kind on the inside of the boat, and Steve realizes it's filled with water as Eddie carries him closer.

"What is this?" Steve asks, trying not to grimace at the discomfort of his scales beginning to dry out. They're starting to feel tight and itchy, a sensation he really hates, like they're going to split apart at any second.

Eddie grins wider and carefully sets Steve into the water, making sure he doesn't bump the tail or the seaweed wraps. He points at the crank to Steve's left and says, "That will make the back wheels turn. If you crank forward, you'll go forward, and back will make you go backward." He then points to the other crank by Steve's right. "This one controls the front wheels. Forward will make them turn left, and backward will make them turn right. You should be able to move around the deck with this."

Steve stares at the cranks for a moment before glancing up at Eddie. When he receives an encouraging nod in response, he slowly turns the left crank forward, lighting up when the boat does, in fact, move forward a few inches.

He's so overwhelmed with joy that he can't help the notes bubbling in his throat, rising and rising until he can't hold them back anymore. Steve doesn't even think before singing, a wordless tune that conveys just how truly happy he is, one that would leave Robin flabbergasted because she's never heard this tune before.

Because this tune is for courting gifts. Like, really fucking fantastic courting gifts. The kind of gifts that blow everything else clear out of the water and leave a merperson dazed and bubbly and floating without any direction from sheer happiness, bubbles bursting through their gills in joyous patterns.

Steve has never sung this tune before, but he's not at all surprised that Eddie is the person who managed to coax it out of him.

-----

Eddie knew the boat would be a good idea, but now he's thinking it was the best idea he's ever had and ever will. Even after hours have passed, after Steve has watched the sun drop below the water and asked Eddie to carry him back to the cabin, complaining about his arms being sore from turning cranks, Eddie is still reeling.

He's never heard a more beautiful sound. Eddie keeps replaying the tune Steve sang in his head, frustrated with his inability to recreate it just right and too flustered to ask Steve to sing it again. Because he gets the feeling it was special, something that Steve can't just do at the drop of a hat, but something he did because of Eddie.

Eddie twists his fingers in the sheet covering him, turning his head to glance at the tub where Steve is leaning against the edge. His eyes are closed, but Eddie knows he isn't sleeping yet. Steve submerges his head when he sleeps.

"Hey, Stevie," Eddie whispers, almost like he doesn't want Steve to hear so the comfortable silence continues.

Steve hears him anyway, of course, the flare of fin along the edge of his ear twitching slightly. He tilts his head a bit more, squishing his cheek against his arm, and somewhat lazily says, "Yeah, Eddie?"

Eddie turns onto his side, meeting Steve's gaze. "How'd you become a caretaker?" he asks. It's not the question he actually wants to ask; he wants to ask Steve to sing again, to let him drift to sleep to beautiful notes and lingering melodies.

He watches as Steve tenses slightly before forcing himself to relax. He takes a deep breath, his gills fluttering slightly before slowly exhaling. "A while ago, my pod had an...altercation with a pod from the southern seas. They kidnapped one of the guppies, Will, and the other guppies decided to rescue him. They snuck off one night and I followed them when I discovered what happened and..."

Steve trails off, frowning as he tilts his head to look at the small window, staring at the moon through the glass. "Well, long story short, there were lots of fights, our pod lost its previous caretaker, and we gained a new guppy the southern pod had captured. After everything, I couldn't let the guppies out of my sight, and they kept coming to me and Robin whenever they had problems. So, eventually, I just convinced Robin to be my partner and raise the guppies."

There's a lot going unsaid in that explanation, but Eddie knows better than to pry right now. Steve will tell him when he wants, and if he never wants to, that's fine, too. Eddie won't fault him for that. "Did you have a job before that?" he asks.

Steve hums softly, still beautiful and soft, but not at all the melody Eddie really wants to hear. "I used to scout for the pod," he says, "I would swim ahead and make sure an area was safe or find spots to rest when the pod traveled. When we stopped for long periods, I'd help gather food for the pod."

"You like caring for the guppies more," Eddie says, and it's not at all a question.

"Yeah," Steve replies, a soft smile tugging at his lips. "The guppies are great."

"Tell me about them."

"Well, first is Dustin. He's a little sea urchin, always talking back and getting into trouble, but he's sweet. Will is usually pretty quiet, but he's got a great imagination. Mike always hangs around Will, and he's kind of a squid, but he's going through an awkward growth phase. Lucas is the most active of them, and he likes to shadow the scouters when he can. Erica is his little sister, and she doesn't let the others get away with anything. Max is daring and brash, she tends to dive head-first into stuff, but she's also really protective. El is quiet like Will, but she's really smart and really caring. They're such a handful. Robin and I never have a dull day."

His voice is trailing off toward the end, and Eddie knows he's just moments from falling asleep. "I'd like to meet them someday," Eddie says, his voice softer than before, the words spoken more to himself than Steve.

Of course, that doesn't stop Steve from hearing him anyway. He hums again, this one quieter, and groggily mumbles, "Of course you will, Eddie. That's part of the courting."

And then, like he hasn't essentially rocked Eddie's entire world, Steve slips down in the tub. He submerges his head in the water, and Eddie can hear the quiet murmur of bubbles rising to the surface and popping as Steve breathes.

Eddie stays frozen for a few minutes, staring at the tub, and suddenly wondering if, maybe, somebody somewhere happened to write a merperson courtship manual.

Tag List (there's still room, so let me know if you'd like to be added!)

@mugloversonly, @raisedbylibrarians, @thegirlwiththelibrarybag, @savory-babby, @vankaar, @beckkthewreck, @itcanbepalped, @imfinereallyy, @finntheehumaneater, @mightbeasleep, @weekend-dreamer7

@whenindoubtb72, @troublemaker2azz, @just-a-tiny-void, @upallnightogetloki, @mxmakessense

#steddie #steddie fic #high seas steddie #merman steve harrington #pirate eddie munson #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things fic #steddie fluff #my writing

[the-kr8tor]

Hobie nurses you back to health.

Feat: the cats

Pairing: Hobie Brown x f!reader / Spider-Punk x f!reader

Word count: 2.2k

Tags: no use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, fluff, description of sickness, established relationship.

My Masterlist

A continuation of this fic but you don't need to read it to understand this one.

*I don't consent to having my work translated/ published on other platforms*

Carefully swinging from building to building, Hobie clutches the fragile bag in his hand, careful not to spill a drop of the precious chicken soup from your favourite deli.

Before he left for patrol in the morning, you already felt the sickness crawling in your throat, so much so you didn't kiss Hobie goodbye that morning, in case you got him sick. He didn't want to leave you alone at first, but you insisted that it's probably just hay fever. And you're not alone, you've got your three little gremlins with you to keep you company.

You know that the city needed Spider-Punk more than you needed your boyfriend. That's why Hobie's so adamant in taking care of you now that his patrol is over, and all seems to be quiet around the city. All his attention is now on you, and making you better.

Hobie finally reaches your flat, he perches himself on your fire escape, peeking through your dimly lit bedroom, he sees your folded form buried under a mountain of blankets. Your air purifier puffs out clouds directly at your contorted face. He hates seeing you like this, he should've taken a break in his patrol, if it weren't for this week's villain, he would've had the time to check up on you.

He feels bad leaving you alone in this state.

Hobie opens your window, a gust of much needed fresh air enters your room, an orange glow hits your face directly.

You groan in your bed when the late afternoon sun shines directly at your sensitive eyes; shielding yourself from the light, you turn around lifting the heavy blankets over your head.

Hobie lifts his mask over his head "Hey, I bought you chicken soup" he softly says in case your ears are also sensitive.

" 'm not hungry" your voice muffled by the blankets over your face.

Hobie looks at the discarded bottle of medicine, empty packets of paracetamol, and a moist rag next to your bed. But no dirty plates or glass near you, you haven't eaten anything since he left.

Hobie sits down next to you, before he settles down, he hears a hiss on top of your body.

Crowley opens his bright emerald eyes, the only thing that Hobie sees of the cat; with the dark blankets and dimly lit room, Crowley's fur perfectly camouflages on top of you. The little dark void stands up as if he's challenging Hobie.

"Oi, we're on the same side, I'm gonna take care of her" Hobie scolds the hell spawn.

Your arm reaches out of the mountain of blankets to pet Crowley, calming him down.

Hobie grabs the end of the blanket, pulling it down to see your face. He touches your forehead lightly to feel your temperature. You're hot, dangerously so, even with his glove he still feels the warmth.

"Fuck lovey, you're burning up" Hobie's voice echoes with concern.

"Hmm?" You look at him with your half lidded eyes. "Hey baby, when'd you get here?" You're delirious, you feel like your mouth's full of cotton, hot air comes out of your nose.

"Shit, we need to lower your temperature" he leaves the soup on top of your side table, tissues and bottles fall on the floor to make room for the warm soup.

He leaves briefly to go to your bathroom, filling up your bathtub with cold water. Crowley makes biscuits on your blanket covered chest.

Hobie comes back, seeing the scene in front of him he stops for a moment to take a mental picture of it. He rushes to you flipping your blankets away from you, Hobie sees in his peripheral that Crowley moved away before getting smacked in the face. That's definitely gonna bite him back, literally and figuratively. He'll apologize to him later, right now he needs to get you to your bathtub ASAP.

When the blankets are pulled away from you, a chill runs through you, a second later heat rushes throughout your body. You feel hot and cold at the same time. The fever clouds your mind; you mumble in Hobie's chest as he carries you.

Hobie carefully sits you down on the edge of the tub, he crouches down next to you with a wet rug in his hand. You can hear the loud rush of water behind you.

"Hnng" You cover your sensitive ears, Hobie sees your reaction, he quickly shuts off the tap, concern on his face.

He carefully holds your chin up so you're facing him. "This is gonna be cold, I'm sorry" he dabs the cloth on your forehead, testing your reaction.

You instinctively flinch away from the cold, "oww" Your joints cry out in pain, every muscle in your body protests against the cold rag. But you don't flinch away when he lays the cold rag against your collarbone.

"That's it, lovey, taking it like a champ"

Hobie opens a couple of buttons on your pajama shirt so he could wipe your chest. He hears a mewl from behind him, Crowley sits elegantly on your countertop, eyes judging Hobie.

Hobie looks over his shoulder, "yeah, yeah I'm being careful" He talks to your cat like he understands his meows.

Crowley answers with a louder meow "Yes, I will wipe behind her bloody ears, d' you think you could do any better?" Hobie raises the rag towards Crowley.

Crowley scrunches his nose at the rag, "I didn't think so" Hobie squares off with your cat, Hobie continues to carefully wipe your arms as Crowley stares daggers at his back.

You stare at Hobie curiously, in your state you have no idea if you're just imagining your boyfriend having an argument with your cat.

You hold on to Hobie's strong shoulder, getting his attention. "Are you fighting with Crowley?" You tilt your head questioningly.

Hobie smiles that you're finally aware of your surroundings, "There's my girl," he pecks your sweaty forehead. "He's being a little shit, that's why"

Your eyes widen "you can understand him?! Is that part of your spidey powers?" You shake his shoulder weakly.

"Love," He pinches the bridge of his nose "I don't even know how to answer that" he squeezes out the excess water from the rag to trickle down on your head.

"Ack! Hobie!" You glare daggers at him, mimicking what Crowley might look like behind him.

"Just a little bit of water," he wipes little droplets off your eye lids with his thumb. "How do you feel? Better, yeah?"

You drop your head on his shoulder with a thud, "tired" you sigh, snuggling further into the crook of his neck.

Hobie hugs you, he kisses the side of your head affectionately, rubbing your back he feels your fever sweat through your thin pajama shirt.

You cringe when you feel him tugging up at your drenched shirt, "I'm sorry, I'm such a mess" your voice vibrates against Hobie's skin.

"Don't be, this is nothing compared to what I've seen 'round pubs" he cradles your head, moving stray hairs away from your tacky skin. "I need to change you out of those clothes, yeah?"

"If you wanted to rip my clothes off, you should have said so" you teasingly said with your hoarse voice.

Hobie chuckles at your sense of humor, despite your sickness. "When you're better, I'll do just that"

Lifting your head away from his shoulder, you stare at him lovingly "I better get… better then" fumbling over your words. You give him your sickenly sweet smile.

After a change of clothes, a much needed toothbrush and change of linens; Hobie guides you back to bed, with Crowley following closely behind.

"Good, the soup's still hot"

Recognizing the packaging of the soup, you instantly perk up "Is that from Tom's deli?"

"Yeah, you should have seen old Tom's face when I came in as Spider-Punk" he sits down next to you as you prop yourself up to a sitting position.

"Did he look giddy?" You make grabbing hands towards the tupperware. You feel a little bit better, still feverish though.

"Giddy as a school girl, he even asked for a bloody selfie" Hobie opens the lid, the familiar savory smell wafts through your room, relaxing your muscles.

You giggle at the mental image, "did he get it? The picture with you?"

"Yeah, in exchange he didn't let me pay for it, even though I was shoving him money"

You imagine the entire interaction between the two, both being stubborn as they are, you would pay money to see it.

Hobie takes a spoonful of the soup, blowing on it carefully before he feeds it to you. You don't protest, even though you feel good enough to feed yourself. Hobie's being so sweet and sensitive you let it slide this time.

You haven't seen this side of him before, sure he's always sweet on you, but this? He's been so attentive to your needs and your pain, you can't help but love him even more. You never heard a single complaint or scolding for making him take care of you, just for that you're already thankful for. You feel his love shine through with every caress, and concerned look.

As you swallow the soup, you can't help when a sob breaks through, fat tears slide down your cheeks.

"Shit, was it still hot?" Crowley loudly meows at Hobie, as if to say: what did you do now? Hobie ignores the cat. "Love, are you okay? Where are you hurting?"

You shake your head, "nothing hurts, it's silly, I'm sorry" you wipe your tears with your sleeves as you avoid eye contact.

Hobie puts down the bowl on the nightstand to carefully cup your tear stained cheeks. "Hey, it's not silly, please tell me. Y'know you can tell me anything" his heart hurts with every tear you let out, "if you're not ready to tell me it's okay, just know I'm here, yeah?"

You finally look at him with a brave face, you exhale and finally let it go "I love you" you feel heat behind your eyes, the fever's crawling up again. "So much Hobie Brown, and it's not the fever talking. It's okay if you don't say it back, just wanted you to know"

Saying it loudly for the first time turns your arms and legs into jelly, the three words send shivers down your spine. And yet you stare at him directly, waiting for his reaction.

He feels slightly offended at your last comment, how dare you think he doesn't love you enough to not say it back to you. "You're a bloody idiot"

Your face falls, before you could think of the worst, he kisses you suddenly, it's messy and fast, your teeth clashing with his, you feel his lip ring against your lips. Pulling away first, breathlessness clings to you, if it wasn't for the flu affecting your lungs you would've lasted longer.

Hobie holds your face tenderly "Fuck you for ever thinking that I won't say it back," He swipes at the beads of sweat on your forehead, "Because I've said it a hundred times in my head. I love you" he kisses your tacky cheeks, "I love you," he pecks your nose, you chuckle at his kisses. "I love you," he kisses the corner of your eye "I love you, so fucking much" he confesses.

You let out a sigh of relief, holding the back of his neck as you guide him towards your shoulder, hugging him tightly you feel the roughness of his suit. He sighs into your hug, he feels a heavy weight lifted off his shoulders. You wish you could hold him in your arms forever, protected and loved.

The other two cats trudge in your room nonchalantly. Hobie feels eyes on his back, he cranes his neck to look at Crowley.

Crowley stares at Hobie, he moves his tail from side to side before he curls against himself. While Crumpet and Teacup jump over to your nightstand to smell your soup.

"He's warming up to you" you sniff while caressing his cheek.

"He watched over you, while I was gone. Can't say the same thing to those two though" Hobie moves his head towards the couple sniffing at your food. "Oi bloody leeches, couldn't even bother watching over your sick mum, huh"

Teacup jumps at Hobie's raised voice, while Crumpet's paw wipes at her face. Hobie translates that action to being ashamed from his scolding.

"Yeah, you better be ashamed" Hobie glares at the two cats.

"Stop picking fights with them" you giggle.

He reluctantly pulls away from your warmth, "they deserve a scolding" Hobie grabs the bowl again "now let's get you up and running again, yeah?"

You nod, grinning ear to ear.

—

A few weeks later, with Hobie's help you're finally strong enough to go jogging again. After your run, you head towards Tom's deli to grab your usual. To your surprise, you see Spider-Punk and Tom's picture above the stove, Hobie holding your soup in his hand while his free arm hangs over Tom's shoulders,Tom widely smiles making a peace sign. Tom sees you staring at the picture, he skips over to you, telling the story behind the picture while he shows it off, pride coating his voice. Your smile gets bigger with every wild gesture he makes.

A/n: hope you liked it! And yes Crowley is named after Neil Gaiman's Crowley. As always likes and reblogs are appreciated ❤️❤️❤️

*picture above is from pinterest*

#hobie brown x reader #spider punk x reader #spider punk #atsv fanfiction #spider man across the spider verse #x reader #hobie brown x fem!reader #spider punk x fem!reader #atsv x reader #hobie brown #hobie brown x you #spider punk x you #the kr8tor's creations #established relationship #fanfic #spiderman across the spiderverse

[wyn-n-tonic]

That's A Real Fucking Legacy: The Lips I Used to Call Home

Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader/former Tommy Miller x f!reader Word Count: 1392 Warnings: I don't think there are any (let me know if I'm wrong). Author's Note: Title longer than a Fall Out Boy song.

That's A Real Fucking Legacy Masterlist

Calling Boston to Wyoming a quick shot straight through would be laughable. It would’ve been laughable in the before but it is definitely laughable now.

But to do this with a baby?

It’s not just laughable, it’s a goddamn death wish. 

The only way she’s calmest is wrapped up against her daddy’s chest, his large arms folded over her small body. It leaves him unable to do much else but it’s also the only way his own fear leaves his eyes.

There’s luck in the Fireflies, though.

Safe house to safe house, vehicle to vehicle. There’s no thick, rotten scent of the infected near until somewhere in Kansas City. 

He feels useless, like he’s unable to protect the baby or you or anybody else. But despite stewing about sitting in the safe house with you and the baby, he does express happiness over the first alone time you’ve shared in about three weeks. 

“You should be sleeping, sweetheart,” he says, his voice laced through with a tone that says it’s not a suggestion. “You need your strength.” 

The season is giving over from late summer to early fall, every day changing hour by hour with the walking and the driving. It was easy in the QZ, year by year. You knew what to expect, how to rest your body—you could seek rest for your body when you needed. 

You need it so much more every day with the way the weather and the travel is going after your body followed by the stress of it all; the complex emotions this entire ordeal is brought on.

This was never a hope in your mind; leaving, going. Your eyes rolled every time Tommy talked about leaving the QZ, it was the subject of so many fights. He believed there was better and you only believed there was death beyond the walls of FEDRA protection. The longer time stretched on after he left, the more steadfast that belief came to the point that you shook with sobs and fear every time Joel made his trips across to trade.

“I'm fine, really.” 

The bed beneath you isn’t what you’d call comfortable, not in the before times at least and definitely not in comparison to the worn in lump you were used to back in Boston. You’ve been laying together since the moment you settled into the safe house, everybody else going out to clear paths for the trucks to get through.

Baby babbles through sleep in her father’s arms beside you, not once have you called her by the name you ended up giving her. Not since he showed up. And the belief that beyond the walls means death is so hardwired into your body and brain that you can’t find it in you to sleep. That’s why he’s talking about your strength, sneaks you bits of his own rations. 

You’re still breastfeeding, as well. When you can, anyway. It’s been harder on the road and the lack of any real privacy isn’t helping. No matter how he tries to shield your body, the awareness that there’s not just eyes but Tommy’s eyes is enough to run every part of you dry and cold even if it’s getting hotter and more humid with every day you pass into the south.

“You look like shit, sweetheart,” he whispers across the small space between your bodies. “Sometimes I wonder if you’re afraid to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” you tell him, eyes darting down to your daughter between you. “I am.” 

“I’m right here,” he says, hand smoothing down the hair at the crown of your head. “It’s okay, please rest.” 

They’re gone when you wake.

It's just you in a cold and empty bed, a threadbare excuse for a blanket draped over your sleeping body along with his jacket. Alarm bells go off in your brain and then you hear the voices in the next room.

Joel’s.

Baby’s.

Tommy’s. 

Nobody else, just them.

“She has your dimples.” Tommy.

There’s a small laugh and then Joel says he’s glad she got them on both sides, not just the one. 

Tommy’s voice is tired, weather worn and rough from strain. Not how he sounded this morning when he left.

There’s a hunger in your stomach, growing and aching loud but it stops with every word spoken between the men you love that filters through the thin walls and half cracked door.

“How is she really?” Tommy asks. “Joel, I still love her—“

“How? How can you still love her when you left her alone for so long?” 

“How could I ask either of you to come with me if I didn’t?”

There’s an annoyed kind of grumble that could only belong to Joel and then silence that stretches on just long enough to make you think there’s space to move forward into the conversation but then it breaks. 

“I wouldn’t say that she’s good, Tommy.” You can hear the way his leg bounces to entertain the baby. “None of us are good anymore but, my God, she’s fucking amazing.”

“Yeah?”

Joel clears his throat. “Yeah.”

“Do you love her?” The younger man asks. 

A beat.

Another. 

Two more.

“I feel a whole lot more for that woman than just love, Tommy,” he finally says. “I know you’re hurting but you have to understand that I—we thought that you were dead. She hurt for a long time and I watched her do that and I did my best to be there for her but—“ Baby babbles to interrupt him and you can practically see the smile in the laughter that follows. 

Those feelings, the existence of them, aren’t new to you. Still, every time he insinuates their existence your head gets light—fuzzy and warm.

“But what, Joel?” Tommy prompts him. “I’m trying to understand this, because I want to not hurt and I want to look at this little girl and not want to cry.”

“Yeah.” A chair creaks and you assume somebody sat forward or back. “I want to look at her and not want to cry, too, but I felt that with Sarah—I feel that with you, Tommy, you might as well have been my first kid sometimes. It wasn’t just me that was there for her through all that hurt over those years, she was there for me and refused to let me pull away. Being with her is the closest I feel to who I was before, I need you to understand that.” 

“That's how she made me feel, too,” Tommy responds. “But I don’t know if I’ll ever really understand.”

“I guess that’s fair,” Joel concedes. “Hell, that’s more than fair, you’re probably really sick of us asking you to understand. Can I have Baby back now?”

Confusion floods through you, you were certain the calm, happy babbles were because she was tucked into her daddy’s arm; bouncing on her daddy’s leg.

“Does she have a name?” Tommy asks. “Or have you just been calling her Baby this whole time? I know you’re afraid to get attached, Joel, but—“

“We named her Thomasin,” Joel says, that stern, warning shot in his tone again. Begging his brother to understand this, that this was the honor you could give his memory—that you named what was born out of grief and love for him after him. “We call her Thomi for short but we’ve been thinking about changing it. We figured it would make you uncomfortable.” 

“No,” Tommy answers. “No, it doesn’t make me uncomfortable at all.” 

Hunger grows loud again but so, too, does the blood rush of his words up your neck, into your cheeks and between your ears. For all the tears and all the yelling and the hurt of fresh cuts on closed wounds his arrival brought back into your life, those are the words of the man you once loved. It has been weeks and he is holding her, speaking about her—about you—so gently. Despite saying he doesn’t understand, it’s there in his voice and lacing through every one of his words and it grows stronger each day closer to Jackson.

“I promised her that I’d come back for her, give her a safer and happier life that she deserves,” Tommy starts again. “I’m heartbroken that it won’t be with me, Joel, but I am glad it’s with you.” 

#joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #tommy miller #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x reader #tommy miller fanfiction #tlou #tlou fanfiction #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us #gabriel luna character #pedro pascal character #o writes

[justagalwhowrites]

Lavender - Ch. 9

You've found a new normal in your life in the QZ. Then it all changes. A continuation of Lavender Ch. 1-8, found on Tumblr here.

Pairing: Joel Miller X Female Reader

Length: 4K

Warnings: Nothing major this time but the whole fic is VERY 18+ so minors? DNI :) Mention of past miscarriage. No use of Y/N

Sunday, October 5, 2008 - Five Years Later 

You’d purposely filled up your Sunday. It wasn’t a day you wanted to think about. Having even a few minutes alone sounded awful. Your birthday had always been hell since the outbreak and you needed anything to keep your mind busy. You wished it was just Monday already. Mondays were long days. Sundays, you had to work at it. 

You got an early start, waking up at 6 a.m. and putting on a Joni Mitchell CD you’d found a few weeks back. You’d traded a few ration cards for it, but it was worth it. You French braided your hair, putting ribbons on the ends. They matched the flowers you’d stitched to cover up the patches you’d made on your shirt. You always felt a bit better when you had ribbons and flowers around. You really needed that, on your birthday. 

Breakfast just sounded miserable, so you gathered up the cookies you’d made the night before - splitting them into two groups, the larger pile for the clinic and the smaller for Abe. You headed for the radio first. 

The line was always short on Sunday morning if you went first thing. There were only four people ahead of you when you got there. You normally let your mind wander while you waited, or brought a book, but you’d been so busy trying to distract yourself that morning, you’d left your book sitting next to your bed. Instead, you eavesdropped. 

The person who was in with Abe when you got there had been communicating regularly with their sister in Kansas City. The sister had news about a man she’d been seeing. It sounded good. You smiled a little. It was nice when the radio brought good news. There was so little to be had anymore. 

Abe stepped into the hall where you were waiting to grab the next person and noticed you in line. 

“Sweets!” He smiled, jerking his head at you. “You’re up.” 

“Come on, man!” The man two people ahead of you snapped. “I’ve been waiting!” 

“Start bringing me cookies every week, you can jump the line, too,” Abe snapped. “Sweets doesn’t have to wait.” 

“It’s fine, really…” you began, but Abe cut you off. 

“You don’t wait,” he said. “C’mon.” 

You smiled apologetically at the people in line ahead of you and followed Abe into the radio room, closing the door behind you. You gave him his cookies, wrapped in paper and twine. He opened them, wriggling his fingers at the small pile. 

“I don’t know how you make oatmeal cookies so damn good,” he said, grabbing one and taking a bite, closing his eyes in pleasure. “But damn, do you ever.” 

“Brown the butter,” you smiled. 

“I don’t even know what the fuck that means,” he said. “That’s why you don’t have to wait. What do you need, Sweets? The usual?” 

You nodded. He licked the crumbs off his fingers. 

“I can tell you right now, there’s no news,” he said. “Everyone knows who to look out for…” 

“I know,” you smiled. “But can you double check for me? Need the list?” 

“Sweets, it’s been five years,” he smiled sadly at you. “I don’t need the list.” 

He started, as always, at the Dallas QZ. 

“Howdy Dallas, hope you’re having a good Sunday,” he said. “Got my usual. Looking to see if you’ve had any new arrivals by the name Joel Miller, Sarah Miller or Thomas Miller. Those three would likely all be together. Also looking for a Cassandra Wilson and a Joshua Trumble.” He was silent for a moment. You heard a crackle of sound from his headphones. “What about folks matching those descriptions?” 

He rattled off ages, general appearances. There was a short crackle. He just shook his head at you and moved on to Atlanta. 

It didn’t take him long to get through all the QZs. There was nothing. You weren’t surprised, but you were always a little let down all the same. You held out the ration cards you traded him but he just looked at them. You frowned for a second. 

“Did the price change?” You asked. “I can get more, I have some saved…” 

“It doesn’t…” he sighed, looking at you. “I don’t know that I can keep taking your money, Sweets.” 

“I promise you can,” you smiled. “I hold it out, you put it in your hand, done deal.” 

“You’ve been here twice a week, every week, for five years,” his eyes were sad. “Everyone in the country knows who you’re looking for. If they were out there, we’d have found them. I’m sorry, I think it’s time that…” 

“You’re sweet to worry,” you cut him off. “But I know them. They just… haven’t made it to a QZ yet, that’s all. Joel and Tommy and Sarah especially. They’re probably… I don’t know, living off the land somewhere. They’ll probably end up at a QZ eventually for some reason, right? I’ll find them when they do.” 

You held the cards out, more insistently this time. He sighed and took them. 

“Thanks, Abe,” you smiled. “Muffins Wednesday?” 

“You spoil me, Sweets.” 

The clinic was just opening for the day when you got there, Andrew camped out behind the front desk. You frowned. 

“What are you doing here?” You asked. “You don’t work Sundays.” 

“Yeah, well,” he shrugged, not looking at you. “Figured I’d work this Sunday.” You sighed. He met your eyes. “You doing OK?” “Don’t know what you mean,” you smiled tightly, handing him the paper-wrapped package of cookies. “Can you make sure these get around to everyone? I don’t want to bring them home with me…” 

“Yeah,” he scoffed. “Because anyone ever turns down your baking.” 

You smiled a little, drumming your hands on the desk for a moment before heading into the back to set your bag down and grab your supplies for the day. 

When you’d gotten to the QZ almost five years ago to the day, you’d been a mess. Andrew had been the only reason you’d made it alive. The miscarriage had taken a turn. You’d needed him to find abortive medications at a pharmacy to finish it which, thankfully, had been left on the shelves in the midst of other looting. You survived the sepsis because you’d grabbed the antibiotics a few days earlier and you recognized the signs. 

Intake had been rough. You were covered in blood. You hadn’t been able to bring yourself to change. They searched your body over and over. Andrew had been screaming from the next bed but you couldn’t remember what he’d been yelling. You weren’t sure if you ever known. It took a day or two before you were able to really communicate anything with the powers that be in what became the QZ. 

The second they heard you had a degree in biology, had been finishing up a pre-med degree and had started studying for medical school, they sent a military doctor in to talk to you. 

“Still interested in becoming a doctor?” He asked, arms crossed. It was a harder question to answer than it should have been. Were you interested in anything anymore? 

“Yes,” you said eventually. “But I don’t exactly think the MCATs are still happening.” 

“We desperately need doctors,” he said. “I’ll train you. It’ll be hard, med school on steroids, because we need people now. At the moment, we have me and not much else.” 

“How?” You frowned. “This is Boston. There’s Harvard, there’s…” 

“Almost no one made it out of there,” he shook his head. “We need you. I can train you.” 

You thought for a second. 

“OK.” 

Dr. Elias had loaded you down with texts almost immediately, giving you assigned reading and having you shadow him at every opportunity. You were stitching wounds closed in a matter of days. Removing an appendix in a year.

More doctors had arrived at the QZ over time but, by then, you were one of them. You’d never have the degree - not that a piece of paper meant a damn thing in the apocalypse - but you were a doctor. It was the first time you’d felt really satisfied since summer, 2003. The day Dr. Elias told you that you didn’t need to shadow him anymore, you had full privileges, Andrew took you for a drink at the speakeasy. You thought of when you graduated college, Joel toasting you with a bottle of real champagne - one from France - he’d gone out of his way to find. 

Sunday in the clinic kept you busy enough. You had a steady stream of patients, with everything from UTIs to stitches for a kid who jumped off some steps and cut their head open to a guy with syphilis whose symptoms had gotten so bad he finally decided to see someone. The day, mercifully, flew by, not leaving you much time to think. It was pushing 10 p.m. when you realized how tired you were. 

“Hey Teach,” Andrew called to you. “Got a few more for you.” 

“Seriously?” You leaned across the counter, your head down on the desk. “I’m getting too old for this. It’s too late in the day for this.” 

“You are not too old for this,” he teased. 

“I’m 30 now, Andrew,” you lifted your head and propped your chin on your fist. “I’m basically dead.” 

“They say that 30’s the new 20,” he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. 

“Nah, it’s the opposite in QZ years,” you said. “30 is the new 74. I’m an old woman, basically geriatric.” 

“If you don’t take these, you’re going to the bar with me,” he said. You glared at him. He shrugged. “These are your choices, Teach. Not going to let you just go home and be sad and old. You can be sad and old here or sad and old at the bar, pick your poison.” 

You sighed and held out your hand. 

“Gimme the charts.” 

He handed you two folders and you frowned. 

“You didn’t say it was intake,” you said, looking at the tag color. “I’m not… Come on, don’t make me euthanize anyone today.” 

“You really think I’d do that to you?” He asked. “They cleared that part already, they just need to be examined. Make sure they’re not too feral, sounds like they’ve never been to a QZ before so they might be rabid.” 

You rolled your eyes. 

“And I guess actually take care of people who haven’t had medical attention in five years,” he said. “That part, too.” 

“Your generation is the reason the world ended,” you said. “I’m convinced.” 

“I’m seven years younger than you, we’re the same shitty generation!” He leaned on the counter. “C’mon. Go treat the patients, then we can go get hammered. I think we need to get hammered. If you don’t want to go to the bar, I’ve got whiskey.” 

“Shitty whiskey.” 

“Does it matter?” 

You smiled a little. 

“It does not.” You sighed, cracking your neck before jogging in place for a second. “Alright, just two more and then this miserable day is officially over. Let’s get this across the finish line.” “Go, sports team!” He gave you a fist pump. You rolled your eyes and opened the top file. 

You almost fainted. 

“Where are they?” You asked. Your hands were shaking. You pulled your eyes from the file and looked at Andrew. “Where are they? What exam room, where are they? Andrew…” 

“They’re in 14, far end,” he said, his eyebrows knitting together. “What’s…” 

You dropped the file and started running. 

“Joel!” 

You were screaming, you couldn’t help it. Your legs couldn’t move fast enough. 

“Joel!” 

The door to the exam room on the far end opened and there he was. 

He was both exactly the same and so different. Still tall and broad and handsome, his hair still shaggy and curly, skin still golden tan. But he looked worn, like he’d been kicked a few too many times. He looked broken. It took him a second to register that he was looking at you. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head, a moment of confusion, then disbelief, then he was running for you. 

You threw yourself against him and he caught you, his arms wrapping around you so tightly you thought he might break you in two and you didn’t care. You took what felt like your first full breath in five years. He didn’t smell like sawdust anymore but it was him. You were sobbing. 

“Joel,” you breathed. Your voice was wet, your fingers in his hair as you clung to him. 

“You’re alive,” he choked out. He sounded breathless. He held you so close. “You’re alive, I thought you were dead, I thought I lost you years ago…” 

He dropped to his knees and took you with him, pulling back from you just enough to look at you. His hands went from your body to your face, holding you gently, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. You held his arms, smiling so broadly it felt like your face might crack. 

“I can’t believe you’re alive,” his eyes searched your face, your hair, looking over every inch of you. “You’re alive…” 

“I’ve been searching for you,” you were shaking, your fingers running over his arms. “I’ve been calling every QZ twice a week every week looking for you, I knew I’d find you eventually, I knew I’d find you…” 

He pulled you back against him and you held onto him. His hand went to the back of your head, holding you close. Tommy emerged from the room, his eyes wide as he looked at you. “Kid,” he breathed, walking slowly to you and Joel, dropping to his knees next to you. He was blurry through your tears but you smiled and nodded as best you could while being held against his brother. “My God, I never thought I’d see you again…” 

“How long have you been here?” Joel pulled back from you again, his eyes searching your own. 

“Five years,” you said, laughing a little. “Almost to the day. We were on our way to Martha’s Vineyard and ran into… Actually, I’m not sure if they were actually FEDRA yet but whatever they were, we got rerouted to Boston. I’ve been here since.” 

You looked between Tommy and Joel and then frowned. 

“Where’s Sarah?” You asked, looking around. “They only gave me two intake files, did someone else take hers? Where’s Sarah?” 

Joel didn’t say anything but you’d never seen him in more pain. He looked like someone had cut open his chest and ripped his heart clean out. You knew. Immediately you knew. Your heart broke.

“Oh Joel,” you reached for his face but he jerked back from you. It was like he wasn’t even looking at you anymore. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” 

***

Tommy knew better than to say Sarah’s name. Joel hadn’t heard it in years. Sometimes, if he went long enough and had enough distractions, he was able to pretend that she was just somewhere else. That he and Tommy were at work and Sarah was safely at home with you. Just like before. Tommy didn’t bring up Sarah. 

So when you said her name, it wiped him out. In part because, for a moment, the fact that she was gone had left his mind. It was different than when he was distracted or it was the first moment when he woke up every day, before he remembered. The joy, the relief at finding you - alive and whole and well - had overwhelmed him so much that everything else just lived in a separate reality. A different plane of existence that contained everything bad that he’d ever done or had ever happened to him that he’d left behind for a moment. Hearing her name…. 

“Teach?” The man from the front desk knelt beside you, his hands going around your shoulders. “We need to find someone else to do this?” 

“Yeah,” you nodded, eyes not leaving Joel. You looked devastated. Like someone had gutted you. “Yeah, I can’t… Ethically, I can’t do this, I’m sorry…” 

The man tried to pull you away from Joel but he held onto you. You gave the man a glance and a single shake of your head and he backed off. 

“I’ll go find Lee,” he said, frowning and searching your face for a moment before he left. 

“Where have you been?” You asked Tommy more than Joel, glancing his way before looking back to Joel. “How have you survived this long outside a QZ?” 

Joel glanced at Tommy who looked back to him. A silent agreement to not tell you the truth of it. 

“Scavenging,” Tommy said after a moment. “Finding what we could where we could. Ended up trading with some smugglers in QZs. Heard Boston wasn’t too bad, relatively speaking. Decided to make our way up here.” 

Your eyes kept running over Joel’s face. You found the scar at his temple, your eyes lingering there. You cautiously reached your hand forward and traced it, lightly, before you held his cheek. His eyes met yours. 

“You’re here,” you breathed. Your eyes were still so sad. His hand covered yours. “That’s all that matters, you’re here.” 

“Mr. Miller? Both Mr. Millers,” A man came out of the back with the guy from the front desk. Joel glanced at him. “We’re going to get you two processed, you’ll have to come with me…” 

Joel tightened his grip on you. He couldn’t let you go, not now. Tommy tugged on his arm but Joel shrugged him off. 

“Mr. Miller,” the man said again. “We need you to come with us…” 

“C’mon,” the man from the desk put his hand on your arm, pulling you gently back from Joel. 

“Mr. Miller. You can see her again in just a few minutes…” 

“No,” Joel said sharply. 

“Joel,” your hand was still on his face. “It’s OK, I’m not going far and neither are you but there are checks we have to do when new people come to the QZ…” 

“Joel,” Tommy’s hands were on him now, too. “It won’t be long. Come on.” 

Joel pulled you against him one more time, holding you to him for a moment before pulling back from you. He let you go then, let the man lead him to a back room. He looked over his shoulder at you as the man from the front desk pulled you to your feet. 

“So that’s the dad…” he said quietly. 

“Yeah,” your voice cracked. He pulled you into his chest and wrapped his arms around you. Joel scowled at him before looking straight ahead, following Tommy and the other man. 

The other man introduced himself as Dr. Lee and started going over Joel with a fine toothed comb. Joel paid it very little mind. He could not care less, he just wanted to get back to you. Being this far from you made him uneasy. Like if you were out of his sight you’d vanish. He watched the door. He could just see the top of your head pressed to the chest of the man from the desk. He was holding you close. He kissed your hair. Joel ground his teeth. 

He still couldn’t believe it was you. You were here, you were alive - fucking alive. He’d mourned you, alongside… He’d felt it. Felt that he’d never see you again, that you were gone. 

It didn’t help that, at first glance, you were the same. Exactly the same. You still braided your hair to keep it out of your way, still put ribbons on the ends - he couldn’t remember the last time he saw a fucking ribbon - still put flowers on the broken things. You looked a bit older but he was sure that, if the world had been like it was before, you’d still have been getting carded every time you ordered a beer. You were still fucking beautiful, so goddamn beautiful. You could have stepped straight out of his memories, been a hallucination. At night, when he couldn’t stop them and he was overwhelmed by thoughts of Sarah and you, you looked almost the same as you did now. The only difference was your eyes. There was a haunted knowing in them now. Like you’d learned the secret of the world - that it was cold and cruel - and been left to reckon with it alone. 

“Can she come back in now?” Tommy’s voice pulled him out of his thoughts. 

“Yeah, I can get her…” he went and opened the door. Addressed you as doctor. You all but ran inside, the other man close behind you. Joel glared at him. 

You, however, went straight for Joel, standing beside his exam table and reaching for him cautiously, like you weren’t sure he’d want you to touch him. Your eyes were red. He slipped your hand into his and your fingers laced with his own. He tugged you closer and your other hand went around his arm so that it was pressed against your torso. 

Dr. Lee addressed you. 

“You know the drill,” he began, but you shook your head. 

“Come on,” you said. “There has to be an exception we can use here, I don’t…” 

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head. 

“What?” Tommy asked. “What’s happening?” 

“You’ll need to stay in holding overnight,” the guy from the front desk said. He was watching you, not looking at Joel and Tommy at all. 

“That’s stupid,” you said. “They can stay with me, if anything got missed…” 

“You know we can’t do that,” Lee said. “It’s too dangerous, if there was a false negative read on the infection scanner you’d be dead.” 

“Please.” 

“It’s one night,” Lee said. “Elias would have my ass if he ever found out I let new intakes go home with you and I like being alive, thank you very much.” 

“It’s one night,” the front desk guy crossed his arms, looking at you. Joel wanted to snap him in half. 

“I’ll set you as their orientation liaison,” Lee said gently. “I’ll let the school know you won’t be in tomorrow. You can get them at 6 a.m.” 

“No,” Joel growled. 

“This isn’t the wild west, Mr. Miller,” Lee said. “There are ways things are done here. Best to start adjusting now. We’re going to take you back into holding…” 

“Can I get just two minutes?” You cut him off. “Please?” 

Lee looked between you and Joel. 

“Andrew stays too,” he said, leaving the room. The man from the front desk crossed his arms, narrowing his eyes at Joel. You didn’t seem to notice, instead just throwing your arms around Joel’s neck. Joel pulled you against him. 

“I’ll be back first thing in the morning,” you breathed in his ear. “I promise, I’ll be right back, I love you so much, Joel.” 

It was like his heart cracked. No one had said that to him in so long. His chest got tight. 

“I’ll be here, Baby,” he said softly. “Not going anywhere.” 

Dr. Lee came back and led Joel and Tommy out of the room, Andrew’s hand firmly on your shoulder as you watched them go. Joel felt sick, you being far away from him again. He focused on getting through to the morning. That’s all. He’d been away from you for more than five years, he could do one night. He was sure of it. Just one night. 

He couldn’t. 

#fanfic #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #joel miller #hbo the last of us

[littlemisslipbalm]

Demonology: Me & My Dog

Series Summary: A new demon has come to Nashville. Josh and Jake's ways of life have been thrown off by her arrival. The angel and demon have lived with an understanding of one another, but with Y/N stirring up trouble and asking questions, they're forced to work out a new normal. And why is she so powerful for a human turned demon anyway, that's unusual, right?

Jake Kiszka x f!reader and Josh Kiszka x f!reader

A/N: This will be at least three parts! This first part is more about Josh and the reader, the second will be more Jake and then we will see with part 3 what is to happen. Please let me know what you think with comments and reblogs and messages to my inbox!! I want to talk about this bc I have been so excited to share it!!

Word Count: 5.4k | Warnings: alcohol consumption, strong language, allusions to sex - minor descriptions of sex but not descriptive smut (still 18+!!), dubious comprehension of angel/demon mythology, like this is fiction fr so if it does not make sense i am sorry but idc (but am also open to suggestions thx)

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Part 1: My & My Dog

When being told to stir up some trouble on Earth, Y/N was more annoyed that she had to go back at all than excited that she was moving up in the ranks. Afterall, she’d only died 50 years ago. It was already time to go back? She thought she had eternity down here. 

From what she’d heard from other members of the underworld, it’d just gotten worse since she’d left. Prior to 1976 had been a riot for her (1976 was not her favorite, but dying usually wasn’t in people’s top ten greatest moments), but now it sounds worse than Hell itself.  

Still, like a good little demon soldier, she trudged through the dim back rooms to find the dull office that would provide her with the necessary documents to take a corporeal form and inhabit the physical sphere for an extended period of time. 

“Can I bring my dog?” She asks, kicking at a piece of garbage on the floor. It littered the entire ground around her feet. 

“Dog?” The servant of hell inquired. 

“Chupacabra,” She corrects.

“Sure,” Their eyes raise from filling out the paperwork to the little animal beside her. “Extra form you need to both sign. Says he’ll suck the blood of at least five animals per earthly week while he’s there. We don’t do ESAs here.”  

“Fab,” She sighed in relief and scratched behind the ears of her dog that she had re-encountered shortly after arriving in Hell. 

The chupacabra placed his paw in some mysterious blood that had formed in the pewter catch-all dish sitting beside the papers and then pushed it onto the form. Signed, sealed and soon to be delivered. They were getting out of Hell. 

-

When she materialized on Earth, she wasn’t sure where she was exactly. The home office didn’t give that information, you just had to figure it out yourself. She had been hoping for her hometown of Los Angeles or another major city center she’d never been to before. Maybe London or Tokyo would be a fun change of pace. 

After walking what felt like 20 miles, but was probably half of that given that she wasn’t used to physical legs anymore, she came upon a sign as to where she was. A mural to be exact. 

It had only been woods and fields for the first half, but then there were more buildings. Coffee shops, bagel shops and something that was called a ‘Vape’ shops. Everything advertised themselves as historic music sites. But it wasn’t until 1504 Demonbreun St. that she fully ascertained she was in the heart of Nashville, Tennessee. 

“Welcome to Nashville”

“Fuck yeah,” She smiled. A friend back in the day had been from here and told her about it a few times. It wasn’t a major capital city or home, but it was a city alright. And where there was nightlife, she was sure there could be trouble. 

She spent the rest of the day checking around her surroundings. Finding the place Hell had given her to lodge in. It wasn’t much but she remembered earthly delights and planned to spruce it up, give it a vibe. She wrote a note on the wall with a deep red pen she had brought with her a list of items she needed. Couch, rug, bed, posters, an electric guitar and lots of wine and clothes. The ink dripped down the wall and she smiled, swiping at it and placing it to her lips. 

She passed the rest of the daylight hours with great displeasure for the living people around her who barely seemed to notice her. Not that she looked any different than them, but it just bothered her that no one was as friendly as when she’d last been here. No one bothered to say ‘hello’, all they did was stare or talk into their rectangular devices she had realized were portable telephones half way through the day. 

Broadway St. seemed to be the place Y/N thought she’d find the most possible trouble. It was lit up like the Sunset and if it weren’t for all the horribly dressed people surrounding her, she would’ve felt right at home. 

At one of the bars, she got free shots from the bartender with a flash of her eyes. From the regular dark brown iris, they flashed an entire eternal glassy black. He smiled dreamily in the abyss and walked away after she winked at him. She swung back the shots and made her way to the dance floor. 

Raising her hands above her head, she began to dance. Her black lace dress hugged her curves and shifted with her. Her silver jewelry glinted dangerously as she moved. The lights in the bar shifted to stay red instead of the flashing multi-colors that had bothered her when she entered. She moved her hips to the music and slowly it transformed from a poppy song she didn’t know to Led Zeppelin. 

Robert Plant’s voice got everyone dancing the way they should and the vapes transformed into cigarettes and she smiled to herself feeling alive for the first time in a long time. Maybe being back wasn’t so bad. She drank more and danced more and saw people getting drunk and making out in corners and thought debauchery worked as trouble. Job done for the day. 

She relaxed into the sway of the music, writhing around like a snake as her skin grew dewey with perspiration. A tug at her arm brought her out of her euphoric state. All night she had made sure no one would bother her, but whoever this was didn’t seem to follow her rules. 

She opened her eyes, fully black once more as she stared at who was holding her wrist. She tugged back but his hold was secure. He pulled her to the side of the dancefloor, a space conveniently opening up. 

“Get your hands off me! What the fuck, man?”

“You can’t be here,” He spoke calmly. 

She narrowed her eyes at him. He had on a white plain t-shirt and light wash jeans, with opalescent beads hanging around his neck. His eyes were an oddly familiar light brown. His hair was shaved on the sides, creating a sort of mullet that she mildly appreciated if he hadn’t been so rude as to pull her away from her fun. That mullet exposed the golden earrings in his pointy ears. 

There was something different about him. None of it was in his physical form but she felt it, vibrating and extending around him. As if he had invisible light passing around and through him even in the dark dingy bar lighting. 

“Says who?” She finally tugged her arm free from his hold and crossed her arms across her chest, pressing her breasts up in the process. 

His eyes flicker to the movement before pressing his lips into a thin line “Says me.” 

She rolled her eyes, unimpressed. “And you are?” 

“Joshua. I protect this town," he says. He wrings his hands around the gold bracelets on his wrists. “You can’t come into these bars and just mess with everything about them. It’s wrong.” 

“Yes I can, Josh,” She smirks. “I’m a demon as you clearly already can tell. I can do whatever I want.” 

“Oh my God,” Josh sighs, exasperated already. “There’s already a demon here.” He knew the other one quite well and was at least able to keep him in check. A newcomer would mean more work. 

She shrugged. “Not my problem, angel. Hell sent me up here, guess they’re not happy with the other one’s performance.” 

She moved to go back to the bar for another drink when Josh looked like he was a million miles away. He’d really killed her buzz. Josh’s mentioning of another demon made her stop and ask as an afterthought: “What’s this other demon’s name?” 

“Jacob–er, uh, Jake,” Josh corrects himself. He hadn’t gone by Jacob since, well, since before, even if Josh wished he could just call him Jacob. 

“Groovy.” Her smile is wicked, her lips painted a red so deep it resembled dried blood. “Displeasure meeting you, angel. Come find me if you ever want to have a real good time.” She kissed his cheek before disappearing behind a group of people. 

-

Two weeks later, Y/N was seated on a bench in the park with her legs kicked up. She looked like she was a dead body–which more or less, she was, but the way she was sitting was unusual for someone who was supposedly alive. Her dog was perched unnaturally along the backrest, soaking in the sun he had missed. They looked out of place. 

She had come out in the midday to see if she could start any fights in the park. She’d quickly learned that malfunctions with their little handheld phones really upset the modern humans so she liked to mess with wifi and electrical connections every odd day or so just to keep up the no-good work. 

Her black RayBans covered her eyes as they surveyed the green grass for potential targets for a bit of a row. She sat as far away from the people as possible, so she had enhanced her vision as if using a zoom function. But soon something white blocked her vision. 

“Angel,” She practically growled. Her dog actually growled, sitting up. 

“Mind if I sit,” Josh asks pleasantly, eyeing the dog with caution. It looked like a normal dog, but a clip in his right ear and a strange red shimmer in his eyes made Josh think there might be something hellish about him. 

She took her feet off the bench and pushed her sunglasses up off of her face. “Finally want a taste of what you’re missing?” 

“No,” he states flatly. His eyes were still wandering between the creature and the demon. She was dressed in all black, typical. The dog was between cream and the lightest brown he’d ever seen, atypical. “Is this your dog?” 

“Yeah.” She smiles softly for the first time. Her hand goes to pet him between his ears and down his small snout. “He was waiting for me in Hell back’n the day. They made him a chupacabra for me as a ‘Welcome to Hell’ present.” 

Josh’s eyes widened in surprise. What had she done in life to receive a present in Hell? “They like you down there?” 

“Eh…I think I’m just a descendant of many a troublemaker. They knew I’d be an asset, especially when I arrived so early.” 

Her dog slipped into her lap. For a moment, he shifted as he stared at Josh. Big ruby eyes glowered at him, all his hair was gone, leaving something more resembling a pale soft dog-rat. Disturbing and wretched, nonetheless. He wrinkled his nose at Josh. 

Josh tried to smile, feeling awkward. Jake had insisted he find this demon Josh had encountered, needing more information about whether he was really in trouble or if it was procedural. Why Jake wouldn’t do it himself, Josh never got as many answers as questions he asked. 

“Do either of you have names?” 

She grinned. “Is this twenty questions? Why so interested in me?” 

“Just want to get to know my opposition,” Josh says lightly, praying for her to feel extra kind today. Afterall, she was a demon who was originally human and it was only a little while ago from what she seemed to like. He was pretty sure she’d only been down in Hell for 50-60 years, that was barely a human lifetime—and yet it was longer than hers. Far less than Jake. Maybe he could neutralize her, get her to see the bright side. 

“His name is Rune, now, but it used to be Rori.” She rubs over the dog’s hair, happy that he was softer on Earth. “He responds to both–for me. Not sure what he should be called now we’re back.” 

Josh waited patiently. The breeze was cooler than usual and looking at her, he had to assume it was her as well. She seemed far too powerful for a run-of-the-mill demon who used to be human. But she also seemed extremely unlikely to answer his questions if he got too personal. 

With her eyes uncovered, Josh watched them move around as she thought about something. It was almost like she was tracking something or doing some long form math equation in her head. Like she didn’t know what her name was and was looking for the answer. 

“Mine…well, now you can call me Sal.” She winks and Josh straightens in his seat, feeling strange. “Gonna write about me in your diary now, Joshua?” 

Josh pretends to laugh with a clipped “ha ha.” She smirked again, sliding closer to Josh on the bench. Rori grew annoyed and hopped off her lap, slinking off to climb a tree in hopes of finding a squirrel. Sal extended a delicate hand to Josh’s shoulder, beginning to play with the fabric of his shirt. He smiled tightly, not having anywhere to go if he wanted more answers. 

“You said you arrived early?” Josh’s voice is high as he feels her touch moving down his arm. Thankfully, being an angel kept him from feeling her entire influence, but her physical touch was enough to feel something…unholy. He didn’t want to imagine her abilities on mortals. “What did you mean?” 

“You’re fun,” She beamed. “If I show you some tricks I picked up in Hell, will you show me something?” 

“It depends what you want to see,” Josh tries to be diplomatic. 

Her head throws back in laughter. “Not that. No, I want you to want me to see that.” Her hand wanders to his wrist and toys with the bracelet before slinking to his thigh. Her voice was low and sultry, lips pressed to his ear. “Desperately.” 

Josh was starting to feel like he might have to leave. His breathing had turned shallow and he couldn’t stop staring at the carnelian stone hanging between her breasts. Her hand’s touch left him and she laughed again bringing him out of his reverie. 

“Hell, you’re pretty cute…I was a 27 club member.” She shrugged, turning away from Josh to stare out at the people again. “Had my heyday in the late 60s/early 70s and went out the same way I lived. Fast.” 

Josh thought about the 60s and the 70s. He’d admit those decades were a bit of a guilty pleasure for him. Nashville had been fun, not as crowded. He watched her again, seeing her eyes narrow looking at the couples and the groups of friends. 

“You weren’t from here?” 

“LA. Broadway’s kinda like the Sunset Strip, just a bit more loser-y…NashVegas, just like Liv said.” 

Josh was about to protest, but refrained, letting her reminisce. She did miss her friends from back then. They’d gotten up to so much trouble. Sometimes too much. 

“Best of times, worst of times kind of thing y’a dig?” She tapped the heel of her boot like she was trying to shake off something unpleasant. “Just glad I had my dog for most of the time. He followed me everywhere and everyone’d let ‘im in because he was such a doll. Died ‘bout three years ‘fore me.”

The more she spoke the more her accent of a bygone era of California popped up. Josh couldn’t deny how sweet she sounded when she spoke about that thing, demonic as the pair of them were. 

“How long’ve you’ve been up–er, down here?” She asked, barely realizing she had to correct for him. 

Josh cast his eyes to the sky, thinking. “Since the beginning. That’s like, 8000 human years, I believe.” 

“Get the fuck outta town!” She exclaimed, jumping in her seat to face him. Her eyes were alight with hellfire. “You’re a proper angel then?” 

Josh chuckled. “They don’t really take new hires upstairs, I’m afraid. Only very special occasions. It doesn’t happen much these days.” 

She regarded him for a moment, inventorizing him again now that she deemed him far more interesting than before. “Yeah, I was on a special list when I came down. Only a few others in my line, everyone else had to wait in this huge waiting room. It was…repulsive and I’ve been in the alley behind the Whisky.” 

Josh tilted his head, looking over her once more. He felt like he should know her, but he couldn’t understand from where. She looked so familiar. Her hair seemed to shift every so often and he couldn’t be sure if it was the light or mood dependent. He didn’t prod at her mentioning the special treatment in Hell, didn’t want to alert her to the fact, that from what he knew, that was extremely rare.

“Have you told your demon friend about me yet?” She asked.

“He’s not my friend,” Josh responds automatically. 

Her eyebrows raise as she turns her head back to him, scanning him for understanding. A killer upon its prey. 

“Secret lover?” She guesses. 

Josh can’t hide his face of disgust. “Jesus! No!”

“Homophobic?” She asks with a look of distaste. Not being for the gays was so not groovy. Half the musicians she hung out with back in the day were gay. And she wasn’t one for choosing when it came to sexuality. 

“No!” Josh cries. “I am more than an ally to that cause, not that angels really have sexualities…it’s just.” He sighs, rubbing at his neck confusion. “He was, is–I don’t know, my twin.” 

“Oh!” She beams, eyes once again lighting up in intrigue. She enjoyed learning things, it helped for using it against people at the end of the day. “So he’s also a proper demon. Fell and all that.” 

“Yeah, don’t remind me.” He sounded pained, as if he was reliving the entire thing. 

“Wow…” She blows out a breath. “That must be funky.” 

She continued when Josh said nothing. “Y’know ‘cause he’s your brother but also he’s–” She finished her statement by sticking her pointer fingers through her hair and wiggling them around. 

“Yes, I am aware.” Josh shakes his head. 

She stood up and stretched her arms over her head, revealing her stomach below the flowy lace top she was wearing. “Great catch up, I guess, angel. Wanna trade tricks later? I’ve already worked through most of the main bars here and I’m getting bored.” Nothing was keeping her interest, since every place she had to transform into her liking. 

“You want to hang out with me? You want to hang out with an angel?” 

She grinned, turning around herself once before dropping her arms and stalking back towards Josh, standing directly in front of him. She leaned over him, watching him straighten his neck and swallow thickly. His eyes flickered from her face to the carnelian again. 

“Everyone else is too easy around here. I need a challenge.” Her lips were right in front of his. “You seem like the perfect remedy for a wayward soul like me.” 

-

Josh wasn’t exactly sure why he agreed to meet the demon at some speakeasy she said she needed to try. He wasn’t fully sold on calling her ‘Sal’, something about it felt off to him. She didn’t even really seem to care for it either. Jake, he knew, was vehement that he wished to be called Jake. 

Jake was probably why he had come to the back door of a pizza joint that was actually the door to the underground speakeasy. He’d asked for more information on her. When Josh had inquired why Jake couldn’t just do it himself, his twin finally fessed up that he was actually not currently in Nashville at all. Leaving the heavy lifting to Josh, like always. 

Begrudgingly, Josh entered another bar with plans to meet a demon. Heaven forgive him. It was smokey inside the brick-walled cavern. Small candles lit the tabletops and narrow bar top. A small dance floor was packed as people danced slowly to a jazz band. In the corner of the room, he saw her hair almost glowing in the dark and he made his way over. 

She was dressed in a black pantsuit, with no undershirt, just a black lace bra and her same necklace. Rori wasn’t present, from what Josh could see, but based on their conversation earlier he had a feeling the demon dog was around, lurking. 

She groaned when she saw what Josh was wearing. 

“Angel, man, do you have any other clothes besides that?” She shook her head in disappointment. 

“Of course I do,” Josh huffed, looking down at his clothes not understanding what was wrong with them. 

“Change.”

“I can’t perform miracles just to change my outfit. That’s wrong.” 

“That’s wrong, it’s wrong,” She parrots what she thought was becoming Josh’s mantra. “God, Heaven sounds so stifling.” She rolled her eyes and snapped her fingers with impatience.

In an instant, Josh was dressed in a red velvet jumpsuit with sequins around the neckline. His arms were on full display, muscles bulging while the velvet hugged his torso and lengthened his height. He smooths at his hair and feels something come off his skin. On his hand, he sees glitter. He looks at her again and then down at his new clothes. She was eyeing the bulge veering to his right thigh. 

“Much better.” She grins. 

Josh rolls his hand in front of him quickly, almost like a benediction, and once again his outfit has changed. Now, he was in a cream and grey jumpsuit that was far less flashy of his own with his favorite sigil emblazoned on the chest. He left the glitter and sat down. 

Her unamused look makes Josh feel a little hot with shame. 

“A little miracle to make sure I don’t look like a demon can be forgiven.” 

“You looked foxy but whatever.” She rolls her eyes and flicks a hand at the table, producing a bottle of red wine for both of them. “You drink, surely. C’mon, don’t act like your demon brother hasn’t corrupted a few of those precious angel feathers.” 

Josh can’t help the smile that falls over his face. Not sure what was so endearing about her at this moment. The romantic jazz might have something to do with it. He loved jazz. He takes the drink gratefully and they sip in companionable silence. She was subdued. 

With one bottle down, they start a second and this is when she offers to show Josh a trick if he’ll show her something again. He shrugs in compliance, feeling well on his way to drunk. 

“But won’t the other people in here see?” He adds. 

“No, they all know to mind their own business. Plus, it’s dark in here.” She winks and suddenly Josh is staring at only her head. 

He can seriously only see her head and neck. She moves closer to him and now Josh is certain, she’s made her body disappear. She was a dishonest-to-god floating head. Her head glowed gold for a moment as she twirled in a complete 360 to really show herself off. Josh’s eyes were as wide as possible trying not to cry out in amazement. Then the rest of her body reappeared, straddling Josh’s lap. With her arms draped over his shoulder, her all black soulless eyes gazed into Josh’s, practically paralyzing him with her fiery warmth and intensity. 

“So what do you think, angel?” 

“I, uh,” Josh stuttered. He placed his hands firmly on her hips and moved her off of him. “That’s impressive. What’s it good for?” 

“S just fun,” She shrugged, undetered by Josh removing her from his lap. “Let’s dance and then you can show me your wings or something.” 

Josh didn’t have time to protest, as she grabbed his wrist with one hand and their second bottle of pinot noir in the other. 

She took a swig before letting it float in the air beside them. Her body swiveled around the dance floor, placing herself in Josh’s arms as he swayed respectfully. She sighed and sunk into the movement, drinking from the bottle every so often. When the song changed, she turned to face Josh, handing the wine to him. He drank obediently, which she felt was a triumph. 

Hands draped over his shoulders again, she pressed her body against his. He was strong, she could feel his toned stomach. Her regular eyes met his and she tipped her nose against his. He looked stoicly back at her, determined to be friendly but not fall into the trap she was so clearly laying for him. 

“You’ve got so many defenses up,” She whispers. “Why not do what you want for once? Loosen up. Indulge.” 

Josh smiles down at her and moves his lips to her ear. Polite as ever, he speaks soothingly. “I am having a lovely time with you, Sal.”

She groans, pressing his hands to her hips again, where the curve of her ass was. “I can gaurantee you’ve never had what I’m offering you…” 

Josh smiles knowingly, unconvinced. “I’m afraid I’m above your temptations. Is seduction your main area of expertise?” 

She glares at him, but there’s a glint in her eye. She loved the chase. The difficulty. 

“Debauchery in general, but with how many people wanted to have sex with me in my first life I have a specialization in seduction and desire.” 

He shrugs, moving his hands to a respectful place on her waist. His touch is light, but she feels the pressure of his thumbs pushing at the exposed skin. She smirks and snakes her lips up to his ear. 

The gold hoop glints and she flicks her tongue over it. “I could just show you what you’re missing. If you’d allow me to put it in your mind, we wouldn’t actually do it. You’d be in complete control. Halo intact. C’mon just a few images…it’ll be informative.” 

Josh sighs as the tug of her teeth on his earring. She was bad. Terribly good at her job. He understood why she was here. Jake wasn’t even in town. Damn him. If he did his job a little better, Josh wouldn’t be contemplating allowing a demon into even a small recess of his mind. But, Jesus, did he want to just see it. If it wasn’t real, it wasn’t really a sin to indulge. 

She stares at him, waiting for his response. Her hands run over his shoulders and chest. The music swells and Josh’s hands tighten on her waist as he looks up to the ceiling, praying for forgiveness. 

“For educational purposes,” He starts and she grins. “I will allow you to show me how you do your job. So that I may be able to thwart your wrongdoings better.” 

“It’s just a little sex,” She licks her lips. “Igniting passion in people makes more babies for you to teach heavenly values or whatever. God likes sex, Josh.” Her voice is sickening, it was like she was dripping in a delicious scent that Josh can’t get out of his head. Twisting his values and her intentions into something evil that somehow made wicked sense.

He’s been careful to only open up a small piece he knows he can close, but he almost loses his footing when he finally feels her stinging lips on his. She licks into his mouth and he’s about to protest before the images begin to flow through his mind. 

‘Good thing your brother doesn’t have to transfer information like this, huh?’ Sal says within Josh’s mind. 

Guiltily, he feels himself laughing. Though his physical body is still locking lips with her. 

The room she brings him to in his mind is dark, a red lamp in the corner where two bodies are rolling around. Sighs of ecstasy filling his ears. The smell of sex hanging in his nose.

‘You’re really missing out, angel. Could show you the best thing life, and death, has to offer.’ Her voice is softer in his mind. 

The scene changes. He’s staring up at her above him. Her hips are working over him steadily as her naked breasts bounce in front of him, her necklace is the glowing light now. Her voice is sinful as she moans praises for Josh. How good he feels, how big he is, how strong he is. The scene changes and he’s driving into her with her legs over his shoulders, she’s smiling sweetly up at him with her mouth open, repeating his name like a prayer. It shifts and she’s pressed face down in the grey silk pillows, her body spread out for him as he grunts and growls, thrusting ceremoniously into her as she screams for him to keep going. It’s melodic, every bodily sound and the scene of their physical bodies uniting is hypnotic. Like it was pre-ordained that he would fit so well inside her. He feels euphoric as it shifts once more. She is back on top, his hips press up into her as she grinds down. Their faces are pressed together as Josh holds her body close to him. Arms enveloping her fragile frame. The room is quiet as they are pressed skin to skin, her lips meeting his gently. Sharp gasps escape their trembling lips.

‘Okay, enough,’ Josh pushes away from the scene, feeling both aroused and confused. 

In the speakeasy, she pulls back from the kiss with a wipe of her lips. She runs her hands through her hair as she watches Josh. She had shown him every one of his fantasies, placing herself at the center of them. They weren’t particularly raunchy, it was all about connection to him and for once she didn’t tease. 

“I like you, Joshua,” She says, truthfully, allowing him to pull their bodies a little apart. 

He was flustered and confused and embarrassed, but he also didn’t want to run. She had kept her word, shown him a few things and left. He didn’t fully understand the words she had just spoken.

He shakes his head, an awkward smile on his lips there on accident, and she stares at him wistfully. 

“I haven’t had someone in my mind in a very long time.” 

“It’s okay,” She soothes. “You really are an angel. Maybe on this earthly plane for too long since you clearly have carnal desires, but they were sweet. Every man’s mind I’ve looked into had vile and cruel desires…” She paused, looking past Josh. “Even in my first life, all the men I knew wanted to hurt the women they supposedly loved.” 

Josh’s eyebrows shot up in shock. 

“The closest you got to dirty was having me in do–”

“Okay!” Josh cut her off. “I think it’s time to call it a night.” He turned and walked swiftly through the crowd, parting easily for him–definitely not a misuse of his miracles. 

“Fine,” She grinned wickedly and whistled for Rori, sauntering after Josh. 

Back on the street, it could’ve been daytime with all the lights compared to the speakeasy. She squinted her eyes in distaste, thriving in the dark and wishing she had brought her sunglasses.

Josh was turned away from her so she tapped on his shoulder, wanting his attention. Wanting to see him again. He turned slowly and the look on his cherubic face was troubled. She frowned, about to ask what got his wings in a twist. 

A shadow stepped into Josh’s light. His hair was long and messy, in need of a wash. His silver jewelry shined heavy on his tanned chest. His black button up was almost completely open exposing his torso and he held a wide-brimmed black hat loosely in one hand and a guitar case more carefully in the other. His eyes flashed yellow when he spotted Y/N.  

She straightened her posture under his gaze and gave him a defiant look. Rori growled, but stayed behind her legs. 

Jake ran his tongue over his bottom lip, taking in the woman shaped devil before him. “You must be the new demon in town.” 

She tilted her head at him and looked between Josh and Jake. “And you must be your brother’s keeper.” 

He took a menacing step closer, narrowing his eyes at his angel of a brother before returning his gaze to her. “Something like that. Now, farewell…or don’t, I don’t care.”

She opened her mouth to speak again but no sound came out. 

His eyes flashed again as he turned on his heel and said tersely, a command, “Josh.”

The pair disappeared into fog that had appeared as suddenly as the older demon along the nighttime sidewalk and then she watched it dissipate moments later, leaving no trace of the creatures. The men. The angel and the demon.

-

to be continued... join the taglist

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[heyidkyay]

Just wondering if you would ever consider writing a Matty fic where he falls in love with a fan in the audience of a show? Maybe he writes songs about it all? It’s very cliche but man does it pull on my heart strings, the Cinderella of it all. Getting swept up into his life like that would be so romantic.

Tag along |

Part one

Strayed a little but it’s still very much fluff filled, maybe not what you’d first expect? Idk, that sounds strange but I hope you enjoy it anyway! Thank you for the prompt!<3

Part Two

--

It was official. 

After days of relentless pleading and having been so blatantly coerced into it by my mum and younger sister, I’d finally relented and given in to attending the concert. And I sort of hated myself for it. Strange, I know, but now I had no choice but to see some fuck-off band- I’d never even heard of- with my teenage sister and her best mate, who were practically mad about them. 

I mean, I love the girls, I truly do. With all my heart. But having to spend an entire evening with them, surrounded by a thousand other screaming fans, just wasn’t something I was looking too forward to.

And who could honestly blame me? 

You see, it had all begun earlier that same week. I’d been on my lunch break, grateful to have just a minute to myself, when my mum had called. We’d gone through the motions, happy to catch up; she told me the gossip whirling round back home (next door were back to rowing again and Tracey in the post office had fallen pregnant for the seventh time); she’d asked after me, like she always did, questioned if I was eating enough, sleeping alright, if I’d met anyone new…

My mum and I had always been pretty close. She’d had me young, I was her first baby- something she never failed to remind me of- and we’d sort of grown up together. Seeing as how my father (nickname: The Sperm-Doner- yes, the caps were necessary) had gone and fallen into all kinds of shit and ultimately decided to fuck off when things had gotten too real. She was my rock, the one person I could count on to defend my corner, and always believed in everything I ever set my mind to.

It had been hard on the both of us when I’d left home, especially seeing as I was now a couple dozen cities away. But life continued on and we adapted, I went back to visit as much as I possibly could, and called whenever I had the time. Even though in moments when all I really needed was a good hug from her, it was easy to remember what I was doing this all for, and that my family was only a train journey away. They were a constant, even if they lived a couple hundred miles from me.

So she had phoned, I’d immediately noticed the stress which underlined her tone and I’d asked what was up. She’d danced around the topic as much as she could- she hated asking for things, ‘that’s my job,’ she liked to reiterate whenever something occurred and I tried to help out. But I’d dragged it out of her in the end. And oh how I now wished that I’d just left it.

Because here I was, stood in the freezing cold, outside of the O2 arena, in a line full of a couple hundred other excited fans who were all waiting eagerly for the gates to open. 

The two girls were squirming beside me, so ecstatic you’d have thought that I’d gone and laced their drinks with something other than sugar, jumping all about the place whilst they squealed to one another in such a high pitched tone that anyone else would’ve believed that they were conversing in another language all together. 

It was amusing to a point, because I could honestly recall the same euphoric high I’d felt when I’d finally gotten tickets to an Arctic Monkeys gig almost a decade ago now. 

Internally I winced as the memory drifted to the forefront of my mind, feeling far too old for my twenty-three years.

But I could also admit that I was honestly in a tad bit of a mood, had been for the last half hour or so, because I truly fucking hated the cold. And right now? It was baltic and I was freezing my tits off. 

I’d already buried my face into the opening of the leather jacket I’d thrown on that morning and wrapped my arms around my torso to enclose some of my remaining heat, but it was of little use. I was still shivering away with a frown.

I’d gotten a couple of lingering looks whilst here, something I’d noticed but could’ve cared less about. It was far too cold to be stood about waiting in any sort of line, so they could all excuse me for not being overly delighted with the whole ordeal.

I sighed and peered down at my phone screen, glancing at the time, then double checked my pockets for the tickets I’d been handed on arrival and told to guard with my life. 

It was probably the twentieth time I’d done so, because who in their right mind would give me, of all people, something important to look after? I was the least irresponsible person I knew when it came to being organised. 

Because listen, I could get anywhere on time, I was insanely good at that- a job interview, an airport, a school play… But nine times out of ten, I’d almost always forget the one thing I’d needed most. My resume, everybody’s passports, the wig I’d worn one halloween and promised to my younger brother so that he could complete his costume in time for his class assembly…

Yeah, so I was a bit of a mess. But who wasn’t?

Albeit saying that, I had ultimately been the one to score these tickets. My mum and step-dad had gifted them to my younger sister as an early Christmas present after she’d literally begged for months on end during the lead up to the drop of the presale.

It had just been the three of us, all sat down in the family living room, back home up north, earlier this year. We’d counted down the minutes, a dozen devices in hand and at the ready, and it had been something short of a miracle, in all truth. 

The website had crashed a couple times, my step-dad’s phone had died, and then my laptop had quickly followed. The dog had knocked over a freshly made brew and almost pissed itself. And then the postman had scared the absolute life out of us when he’d knocked on the front door. 

So to say that we had all breathed in sudden relief when I’d loudly announced that I’d managed it, was a MASSIVE understatement.

Note. The worst part to seeing your favourite band live; Ticketmaster.

Even the thought of doing it again had me riddled with anxiety. I shivered involuntary, whether it was from the mere idea of it, or the cold, I’d never know.

But being stood here now, I was cursing myself for having been the one to officially bag the stupid things. I sighed inwardly, if only I wasn’t such a brilliant, caring and amazing older sister. But it was a hard life, I supposed. 

“I’m so excited!” My sister, Rosie, squealed, drawing me from my thoughts. She’d gripped onto Tea’s arm in her sudden bout of elation, and the two shared a maddening grin. The other girl didn’t seem to mind the tight grip her best friend held, and so I figured it was probably down to the anticipation of it all- or the fact that it was still so bloody cold.

The thing about Rosie and Tea was, they had been as thick as thieves for as long as I could remember. There’d never been one without the other, and so it was sweet to see the pair looking so forward to something like this, something which they both shared such an obvious love for. 

“I know!” Tea breathed dramatically, looking a little flushed, “I want to meet them so bad, it actually hurts.”

I fought the urge to roll my eyes at the pair, in good fun of course, because they were both so adorably obsessed. 

Oh, to be a teen again. 

“You two are really looking forward to this,” I commented with a light chuckle, watching on as the two girls danced around happily in the small section we’d claimed. “I just don’t get it.”

Once those words had left my lips, I instantly regretted it. Having been met with the deathly glare of two teenage girls was not something I’d offer up to just anyone. 

“Are you serious?” My sister outrightly demanded, staring up at me with a face of utter bewilderment. Scarily, she looked a lot like our mum in that moment. “They’re The 1975, Y/n. They’re- incredible! You must have heard at least one of their songs!”

Tea nodded her head alongside Rosie, bobbing up and down in agreement.

I simply shrugged at the pair of them, finding amusement in their infatuation. “Can’t say that I have, Ro.”

“But, Y/n/n, you love bands! Music in general- I’d bet my whole vinyl collection that you’ll love them too!” Rosie stressed, she then smiled brightly up at me when I merely quirked a brow in retort. I dug my hands deeper into my pockets.

“I like bands, yeah. Band’s like The Stone Roses, The Kooks, Joy Division… The type that make music for music’s sake, you know? Not the kind that strive to get on the top ten, babe.”

I shook my head fondly at the two. 

This band they were so enamoured by were probably just as decent as they claimed, and I could admit that simply because, well, they’d have to be to have all these crazy fans gathered in one place. But they just weren’t my cup of tea.

Ooh, talking of tea, I was proper gagging for one. I’d yet to have my daily fix, and after having been rudely rushed out of my flat early this morning, I’d been unable to stop off at any sort of coffee shop on the way over in fear of losing a spot in line.

The two teens rolled their eyes at me, and my forehead pinched when my sister pulled out a pair of headphones and all but shoved them into my ears. “Look, just listen, okay?”

I reeled back in alarm, having not expected the sudden ambush. “Christ, Ro!” I exclaimed, but the girl only huffed at me before turning to press play on her phone. She gave me a stern look. I relented.

At first, I couldn’t hear anything but the slow intro to an unfamiliar song- even with the swarm of fans gathered around me. But I continued to listen, honing in on the tempo and its melody. And as the song went on, I begun to understand why so many people enjoyed it. The lyrics, although a bit out there and entertainingly vulgar at parts, were smart and witty, they fell with the instrumental perfectly and the singer’s voice was pretty different to what I’d first expected. It made me want to really listen, to follow along, to understand the backstory.

Honestly, they weren’t half as terrible as I’d first believed. And once the outro had faded out, I actually felt a little conflicted. The song obviously had a much deeper meaning to it, but its instrumental made it so lively and energetic that I’d found myself bobbing along almost subconsciously. It was something I could see myself getting lost in, and I wondered whether or not they’d made anything more raw, or emotional.

The songwriter was definitely talented, I couldn’t deny that, they’d had gone through some shit, and I found myself longing to read deeper into their words.

“They’re sick, right?” 

The headphones being ripped out of my ears brought me back to the present and I blinked slowly at my sister’s question.

“Yeah.” I shrugged a shoulder, handing over the wire. “Yeah, they’re alright. Can sort of see why you two like them so much.”

I laughed to myself when the girls faces lit up. 

“They’re amazing! And you’ll so enjoy this show- as well as the boys! They’re proper nice deep down, like really care about us as fans and all that.” Tea encouraged, seemingly quite happy that I hadn’t just gone and shit all over her favourite band. 

“Yeah, they’re so lovely, Y/n!” Rosie added, eyes alive as she barrelled on to explain further, “There’s four of them, right? First, we have Adam, he plays the guitar mainly- blonde, tall, only one who’s started his own little family. And then there’s Ross and George-”

“Ross is on bass, long haired with a beard, whilst George plays the drums.” Tea weighed in, before Rosie was back to chattering away again.

I was honestly beginning to feel as though I was watching an extreme game of tennis with the way my attention kept batting back and forth between them.

“Tea’s obsessed with him.” Rosie felt the need to inform me, before her face immediately brightened, “Oh, and then there’s Matty of course!”

My sister was wearing one of the biggest grins I’d ever witnessed on any singular person and I snorted when Tea rolled her eyes and made a slight dig, “You can see who Ro’s claimed.”

“Hardy har.” Rosie deadpanned, jutting a light elbow into her friend’s side before she gave me a serious look, “I haven’t ‘claimed’ him. I just…”

“You just want to have his children. Yeah, I know, Rose. You never fail to not mention it.”

Rosie stuck her tongue out in retort whilst I tried to bite back my rising amusement when they continued to bicker. The two made a right pair.

“So, what’s this Matty like then?” I questioned, wanting to know a little bit more about the guy who’d caught my sister’s eye, but mainly just eager to poke a bit more fun at her. “Come on, what’s so great about him that you’ve gone and dubbed yourself a tribute to birth his prodigy spawn?”

The girls wrinkled their noses at me, Rosie’s upper lip curled in faint disgust. “Why’ve you gotta word it like that?” She scoffed, shaking her head at me.

I chuckled, shrugging a singular shoulder. “Because I live to annoy you. So, are you gonna tell me or do I have to ask about?”

I made the effort then to pretend as though I was about to disrupt the group behind us’s conversation, but the girls were quick to waylay me, jumping hastily to grab at my outstretched hand. I smirked.

“Stop it!” Rosie all but hissed, her worried eyes flicking back over towards the people beside us before falling on me again, this time they were slitted. “God, you’re so embarrassing.”

Me, embarrassing? Hah. She should be thankful that I knew when to stop. I could still vividly recall the days when my mum had attempted the same shit with me, except she’s the type to actually follow through, leaving her daughter to stand sheepishly behind her, internally cursing the day her mother had decided to forgo an abortion. Dark, yes, but I’d also been a hormonal fifteen year old girl, so sue me.

I rolled my eyes instead of voicing this though, knowing it would only go in one ear and out the other. And ultimately, my sister sighed allowing me to prompt her on further with the rise of my brows.

“Matty, he’s the frontman basically.” She said, back to talking with her hands, forgetting about the whole ordeal.

That made sense, I thought to myself, although I’d always been a drummer sort of girl. Helders, Taylor, Fleetwood, Bonham, Moretti… I could go on.

No honestly, I could, so I was just glad that Rosie chose that moment to stop me.

“He’s a proper performer, you know? Like he just belongs up there, on stage.” My sister breathed, and she wore the sweetest look of admiration on her face. “He’s got this mop of messy black curls and he’s covered in tattoos. Wears all this cool shit and he’s-”

“-also a bit of an arsehole.” Tea summarised for her, before Rosie could get too carried away. 

I blinked at my sister’s best friend in surprise, before a loud laugh bubbled out of me. 

In all the years I’d known this girl, this deceivingly sweet girl, not once- once, I stress!- had I ever heard something so shameless spill from out her mouth, and with the exasperated look she had paired with it, I couldn’t hold in my delight.

“Tea!” I exclaimed, and was so tickled to see the younger girl’s cheeks redden when she turned to give me a sheepish sort of smile. “How crass! I always thought it was Rosie who’d been the bad influence between the pair of you, but now I see quite a few secrets are coming to light tonight.”

Rosie snorted in reply, “She’s done worse. Trust me.”

Tea swatted at my sister’s arm upon hearing that, widening her eyes in a silent warning.

“Oh, come off it.” Rosie waved away with a roll of her eyes. “It’s just Y/n.”

I decided to leave off of the teasing, feeling a bit bad for embarrassing the younger girl. “Yeah, I’m just messing, lovie.” I told Tea with a soft smile as I draped an arm over her shoulders to draw her in for a hug. “You can relax, nothing that happens tonight will be getting back to your mum, alright?”

“Yeah, ‘cause we all know what she’s like.” Rosie tittered under her breath and I slapped lightly at her bicep to scold her. “What?” The girl exaggerated with a high-pitched drawl, rubbing at her arm with a narrowed eyed glare that was directed towards both Tea and I. “I was just saying! And what’s with you two and smacking me about today?”

Tea giggled and I squeezed her lightly before letting go.

“Don’t talk about things that have nothing to do with you.” I told my sister simply, “Freya’s a perfectly lovely woman, just a tad…”

“Insane?” Rosie offered, at the same time Tea said, “Extreme.”

“Eccentric- was what I was going to say.” I shook my head at the duo. “Honestly, the two of you.”

The girls only laughed. 

The line started to move a little while later, slowly mind, but it was a progress I was grateful to see. 

Anything to get out of this chilly wind in truth. 

And as we waddled along, the two teens I was with continued to speak of the band, trying to catch me up on anything and everything I’d missed before the show officially started.

Not that it helped at all. I was beyond crap when it came to things like that- recalling anything trivial- I could hardly even remember the band’s actual name and it was plastered practically everywhere around me. As well as this big box thing. 

I breathed out a loud sigh of relief when I realised that we were up next, and when we were signalled over towards the gates by one of the arenas guards I could see just how nervous Rosie and Tea had grown, giddy but mostly eager to just get inside. I couldn’t help the fond smile which limned my lips then, happy to see them so excited.

“You three.” A large man, branded in a security uniform, called, jerking his head over at us. I heard the girls take a deep breath as we approached and I quietly chuckled at them. “Tickets?” He stated. 

Oh shit, yeah. The tickets.

“Tickets…” I murmured quietly to myself, patting down my pockets to find them, “Tickets, tickets, tickets…”

I could feel the apprehension radiating off of my younger sister as I continued to riffle around for the poxy things, and so I flashed the bloke a wry smile before I started to unload the contents of my jacket pockets into both Rosie and Tea’s hands...

Gum, house keys, a stray tampon. Pack of haribo (because you never knew when you’d need those), ID, bank card, phone, charger. A few spare pound coins-

Oh God, that was where my Argos receipt had got to! I could finally return that shitty Nespresso machine my cousin and her fiancé had talked me into buying now.

I grinned in quiet victory whilst tucking the slip into the back pocket of my trousers.

“Y/n.” My sister stressed out in a hushed whisper, I just simply waved her off.

“They’re here somewhere. I felt them like, twenty minutes ago.” I assured her and- “Aha, told you! Three tickets, all here!”

I wore a triumphant grin when I held out the wrinkled papers towards the guard, who appeared to have been throughly amused by my prolonged charade. He took them from me to scan with a toothy smile.

“Oh cheer up, we’ll be in there in a sec.” I huffed at the girls, tucking all of my belongings back into their rightful place. Rosie didn’t look too cheerful though, but I could see that Tea’s lips had started to twitch, so I have her a conspiratorial wink in turn. Then glanced back towards the bloke, “We all good here?”

“Yeah, all good, love.” He exhaled on a faint chuckle, waving us in through the barrier without further issue. “You girls enjoy your night.”

“We will!” I promised, gifting him a gleeful smile, “You too- hope you don’t have to spend too much longer out in that cold!”

He just nodded at me, still looking rather entertained by all our antics.

“So embarrassing.” My sister felt the need to reiterate as we wondered further into the arena, practically growling.

“Oh, loosen up, would you? He was proper nice about it all. Fit too, don’t you think?” I said, glancing back over my shoulder.

But Rosie just rolled her eyes at me. Fed up, I was about to bite back at her when Tea’s unexpected gasp broke us from our little quarrel.

“Oh my god. They have the limited edition LP!”

Rosie’s eyes widened dramatically and before I knew it the two were scurrying away from me and over towards the merch stand. I sighed to myself and glanced about, hoping to see a sign that would lead me to where the bar might be.

—

We were here. In the middle of a fucking mass of people, but we’d actually done it. We’d finally managed to swindle our way near the front of standing, practically touching the barriers, even after having loaded up on snacks and drinks- mine mostly alcoholic.

The girls were buzzing. Looking all cute and excited in the outfits they’d planned months in advance, singing along to the set that was playing through the speakers to keep the crowd entertained before things begun.

And me? I was getting swept up in the atmosphere. Unable to believe that I’d almost forgotten how good it all felt. Because live music was truly unmatched.

There was just something about the heavy thud you felt in your veins, how being this close to the amps could make your chest ache in the very best way, and how’d you’d have to scream just to be heard over all the noise whilst you got lost in an avalanche of happy people. 

It really had been too long.

I was already a fair few drinks in by the time the opening act came out, and was chatting away to the couple crowded beside us. They were both a year older than me and studying down in Bournemouth. They’d bought their tickets off of a mate, who hadn’t been able to make it, on a whim when they’d had the cash to spare, and had decided to make a weekend out of it. 

We’d actually only gotten to talking when they’d almost sloshed a canned cocktail all down my back. 

I’d been startled at first, rightfully so, as this giant of a man had all but stumbled right into me, eyes as wide as saucers. His boyfriend had come to his rescue though, offered me up one in apology, and who would I have been to deny? 

So I’d cracked it open, found myself pleasantly surprised by the taste, and one thing had quickly led to another and they’d ended up letting me share the bagged vodka they’d also managed to smuggle into the stadium in the bands of their socks.

To say that I’d been impressed wouldn’t have been a lie, I sort of felt like I’d found my people in truth. Because the price of alcohol at these kind of events was always extortionate. Practically daylight robbery, there was no other way about it.

And my bank account had taken quite the hit from the first trip to the stands alone. And with two teenage girls, who could care less about money unless it was their own, I’d almost wanted to shed a tear when I’d handed over my card to the boy behind the till- he’d sympathised with me, I’d seen it in his eyes as he wished us a good time.

So here I now was, pissing it up in the pit with a bunch of strangers, a medical bag full of spirits clutched tightly in one hand. 

“Oh, God! Y/n, Y/n! It’s starting!”

I turned away from one of the boys to glance back towards my sister, who was staring up at the stage with this starry eyed expression, Tea was right beside her wearing the exact same face. I chuckled beneath my breath.

“You girls ever been to a show before?” Lewis, one half of the couple I’d met earlier, asked Rosie.

My sister shook her head at his question whilst the screens above us begun to distort and screams overwhelmed the arena. Lewis merely chuckled at Rosie's nonverbal reply, she only had eyes for the stage it seemed. 

“It’s her first gig ever. She’s been dying to see these lot for years.” I answered for her, leaning in close so that he could hear.

I saw his eyebrows lift at the information before he was grinning against my ear. “She’ll never want to see anyone else after this!”

My forehead pinched, silently questioning his statement, but just laughed it off when a row of boxes flashed brightly above us.

Lewis and I separated on cue, just as the world around us hushed for a split second and the sudden intro of a loud guitar pierced the veil.

“Please welcome, my favourite band, The 1975!” A voice then announced and I looked up, right into the eyes of a man who’d seemingly taken claim of the stage.

His smile was wide, unmatched, as he pranced up and down the front, his hair a mess of curls as a set of drums picked up the pace of the opening beat. I had to be reminded to close my gawping mouth.

Who the fuck’s that?

And I must’ve said it out loud, because I heard Lewis snort obnoxiously from right beside me, continuing to sing away whilst the girls immediately turned towards me to shout, “Matty!”

Shockingly, their loud exclamation also managed to garner the attention of the man himself when he danced by, and I watched on as the dark-haired frontman smiled down at Rosie and Tea. Waving hello. 

I was caught by utter surprise when I then found myself trapped in his heady gaze, still giggling away at the girls' hysterical reactions. 

Okay. Before I continue on, I truly am putting this all down to the alcohol that was streaming through my system, because it was then that Matty appeared to pause before me for the briefest of moments. 

And I didn’t dare look away. I couldn’t. 

He smirked down at me, eyes so observant, and I found myself shaking my head at him with a smile of my own. But sadly he only left me with a sly wink as he traipsed away to sing out into the rest of the audience.

Rosie and Tea had squealed beside me, excited to have captured the singer's focus, whilst I tried to catch my breath.

The show continued on after that and I allowed myself to relax and get lost in the people, their heat, the music. I danced, the girls and I swayed, twirling about, Lewis and I laughed, and I even managed to sing along to a couple of songs I sort of recognised. 

The current one came to an end though soon enough, and Rosie informed me with a glossy eyed smile and smudged liner that the last song was fast approaching, whilst Tea just pulled out her phone to record again. 

I nodded at my sister, squeezing her close before she pivoted away back towards her best mate, leaving me to sip at the drink I’d been trying not to spill all down myself due to the constant shoving and pushing.

Minutes went by and Matty engaged with the burly bloke on bass- whose hair I found I’d rather like to touch (because honestly, how did he get it so glossy?). Before he continued on, pointing out signs here and there, and sparking up another massive round of cheers by vocalising the inner workings of his mind, which was something he supposedly did quite often. Enough for the rest of the band to begin playing again only to shut him up. That had made me giggle. 

Dozens of faces passed over the main screen, most of them beaming, or crying, there wasn’t much of an inbetween. And Matty interacted with them all, grinning and joking in such a way that only screamed sincerity.

The shouts around us only started to double then when he made his way over to our section, and even my own heartbeat sped up as I watched his eyes drag over the absurdly large crowd. He was unfairly attractive, okay? I could easily see why my sister had taken such a shine to him.

He was smiling and my pulse stuttered then stopped altogether when Matty paused right by us, to look me directly in the eye, his eyebrows drawn tightly together.

“Alright, darling? Having a good night?” He quizzed me, the sudden weight of his attention making me jump even though the surrounding screams had yet to cease. “What’s in the bag?”

I glanced down at the liquid filled bag I was still holding, gaze drifting to Lewis for a split second before it darted back up towards the singer. “Vodka.” I told him before I could think better of it.

The sound Matty produced then was almost inhuman and I was actually quite proud of myself for having been the cause of it.

“Definitely snuck that in.” He accused, quieter this time around and with a growing smile. The audience laughed.

Rosie and Tea spun around to face me, huge smiles threatening to split their faces in half, as my brows pinched.

“Way to out me to an entire arena!” I instantly called back, ducking slightly to avoid the eyes of the hefty security man stood on the other side of the barricade. Matty’s cackle echoed out around me, coming from all directions.

“Oi, mate! Escort her out, will you?” Matty ordered, nodding down at the same man I’d previously noticed. “Ruining it for everyone.”

I gaped, eyes widening in sudden alarm whilst he just shook his head at me, feigning disappointment.

Thankfully though the singer was quick to go back on his word, waving the guard (who had actually begun to MOVE) off with a sway of his hand and a thoroughly amused grin.

Fuck, this man was really going to be the death of me, I thought. 

I willed my racing heart to slow.

“I’m just joking, love.” Matty reassured me, eyes twinkling under the array of lights. “Spotted you a couple times tonight, actually. Like to stand out, don’t you?”

It didn’t sound like much of a question.

“Might do.”

I could physically feel my brain struggling to make my mouth cooperate, and I figured I might’ve drunk a tad too much, because I usually wasn’t this tactless. Which was how I managed to surprise even myself with the next sentence I fired back.

“Or maybe it’s just you.”

“Just me?” Matty queried with a tilt of his head, and he squatted down then, bouncing on the balls of his feet for a moment before he took perch on the side of the stage. “What do you mean?”

“You’re the one who spotted me.” I retorted with a smug smile, raising my voice to be heard. “I’m just one face in a thousand. Nothing I did.”

He hummed, mouth quirked to one side. “So this is all on me then?”

I shrugged casually, but my mind was reeling.

Matty laughed before he motioned me closer. “Here’re.” He prompted, jutting his chin out and willing the crowd to woefully part. “Come on, let her through. Let her through.”

I frowned but did as I was told, slipping my way past the few who had actually managed to claim the metal fence before us, quirking a confused brow up at him.

He towered above me, even from where he was seated on the stage, and I willed back my shock when he proceeded to jump down from off his perch and approach me. My heart hammered and a lump formed in my throat.

“Have you got a favourite song of ours?” He asked and I actually felt how embarrassed I must have looked in that moment, gifting the singer a sheepish smile before I quietly informed him that I didn't have one.

His head jerked back, “What do you mean, you don’t have one?”

The sudden crow of Rosie's voice sounded above the rest of the buzzing noise then and I was unsure on whether or not to be grateful for it.

“She’d never heard any of them before tonight!”

I grimaced slightly from behind the hand that had come up to hide my face, silently hoping for the ground to just open up and swallow me whole. I could feel the heat radiating in my cheeks and the tips of my ears, knowing full well that Tea was definitely recording every inch of this mortifying moment.

“Oh, so we have a fake fan within our midsts?” Matty voiced and it was full of mirth, he found pleasure in his teasing. 

A soft brush touched my skin and before I even knew what was occurring my hand was being pried away from my flushed cheeks by the singer himself, who looked me dead in the eye and had the utter nerve to wear the most devastating grin.

“Is this all part of your plan? Lure me in and then break my heart. How’re you at my gig, after never having heard a single one of our songs?”

“I’ve heard a few!”

But my attempt to defend myself was waylaid, it seemed Matty had other ideas.

The frontman nodded over towards Rosie, who blanched under his gaze. “Go on. Tell me more. What’s her motive here?”

I watched on as Tea nudged my younger sister into talking, Rosie too shellshocked to remember that she had the biggest gob I’d known to man.

“Um,” My sister startled, blinking away before she took a deep breath, “I dragged her along tonight. Me and my friend, we’re huge fans!”

“Lovely to meet you. Glad you could make it- only wish you’d made a listener out of this one beforehand!”

“We’ve tried!” Rosie exclaimed with an exasperated sigh that had me rolling my eyes. It appeared as though she'd reverted back to her usual self, despite being under the gaze of her favourite person in the entire world. Yes, you could be assured that that was an actual quote.

“Oh it’s like that is it?” Matty asked, peering down at me. I couldn’t tear my gaze away, his brown eyes smudged with kohl making them that much more enticing.

His attention differed then, flitting back towards my sister.

“She seemed to be enjoying the set whenever I looked over though, so what happened?”

“She’s stubborn!” Rosie shouted back, and I could hear her muffled laughter through the crowd, probably upon seeing me so put out.

“Stubborn, are we?” Matty smirked, and his lips were by my ear before I knew any better, his mic long forgotten. “I like a challenge.”

And then he was gone, back to wooing the crowd and making the most of having all this attention.

I let myself slip back into the seams, breathing heavily as my sister and Tea joggled me about, Lewis and his boyfriend beaming madly from ear to ear. I tried to focus.

What had just happened?

Part Two>

#the 1975 #matty healy #Matty #Healy #x you #matty healy x you #matty healy x reader #matty healy imagine #imagine #reader #y/n #you #the 1975 imagines #matty 1975 #adam hann #ross macdonald #george daniel #fluff #humour #concerts #gigs #1975 concert #writer #flirting #cuteness

[hearteyes-for-killmonger]

It's officially Spooky SZN!!! It's been a minute since I've added another installment to The Hearteyes Zone, but it's finally time. I do believe this is the 8th story in the series. Check out the others if you haven't already.

The Hearteyes Zone Series | Spooky SZN Masterlist

Finnegan Road is haunted, but not by a spirit or a ghost. It's something more sinister. Sometimes, human beings are the most horrifying apparition of all.

Human Beings. They'll make you think you were much better off... in the Hearteyes Zone.

Heads or Tails

30-year-old Mezca was all dolled up and on her way to the annual Halloween party hosted by her best friend, Gina. Having a successful podcast dedicated to True Crime cases, Mezca was given clearance to host a storytime at the party for entertainment, and she had the perfect true tale...

Dressed as Presidential Barbie, she took to the stage in the highly decorated city banquet hall with masked and unmasked faces filling the venue.

"This one's pretty fresh... Some of you may have heard about the string of recent murders in this city. If not, then listen up. A quick Google search will confirm all I'm about to tell you."

Mezca looked into the masked and painted faces before her. They were settled in, ears open.

"Show of hands. How many of you have heard of the Heads or Tails killer?"

A few hands were raised, but for the most part, people were clueless. It was a clean canvas for Mezca to begin her story with a description of the first known victim, a Jamaican American woman in her late 20s by the name of Andra Beach.

"Andra had a husband and three sons under the age of 5 who were all in Maine when the crime occurred, and boy was it messy. She was stabbed 32 times in the chest. Initially, police thought it was a crime of passion. They questioned everyone close to her and her family, but something was strange. They found a quarter in a puddle of her blood. 48 hrs later, another body was found. This was also a black woman, early 30s. The m.o. was the same. 48 hrs later, another victim. Hannah Ayad. Same m.o. She was getting tires from a shop only 29 miles from here when he was blindsided by a stranger and murdered in cold blood. Hanna was discovered with 16 stab wounds and a quarter laying in her blood. After 3 more identical deaths within the course of the next week, the quarter in the pool of blood became a calling card that signaled to detectives that this was a serial killer. But what was the significance of the quarter?"

The audience was captivated, but Mezca hadn't even begun to cook.

"A week ago, a woman, mid-20s, was spotted stumbling and bleeding down Finnegan Road."

The tension in the room rose.

"Yes, OUR Finnegan road. 8 miles away. She'd been stabbed 3 times. According to her report, she met a guy at her Waffle House shift. He came back on the backend and grabbed her on the way to her car. Can you guess what he did next?"

Crickets.

"He produced a quarter, put it in her hand and told her to call it. If she didn't, he'd kill her. 'Heads,' she called, not knowing what would happen. 'What happens if it's tails,' she asked him. You know what he said? 'You better pray it's heads.'"

Mezca took the moment to revel in the attention, keeping everyone on edge with anticipation.

"It was tails... Unfortunately for her. He stabbed her three times as she grappled with him until she fled on foot and hid in a dumpster until morning. She was found walking the street and taken to a hospital. So far, she is the only known surviving victim of a man who's now referred to as the Heads or Tails killer. And yes, he's still at large. Police have no clue who he is. So be careful out there... and Happy Halloween."

Mezca smirked as she left the stage, feeling the paranoia around her. Gina was the first to grab her, eyes serious and fearful.

"What the fuck? He's still around? Did they say what he looked like?"

"6'0-ish black male, brown eyes, and a muscular build. He could be anybody."

"What the hell? Why didn't you mention this before? I wouldn't have invited half the people here! Now I'm eyeballing everyone." Gina was paranoid as she looked around the room, staring extra hard at the people in masks, head coverings, prosthetics.. the tall ones, the built ones. Unfortunately for her, she'd invited a SLEW of handsome and tall black men based on her preference and social media. No one stood out.

"You're paranoid," Mezca's face angled down, making her eyes look nefarious. She was enjoying the effects of her story too much. "Besides, it's better to know what's going on around you now than not at all. Don't let it stop your fun! You're a black she-devil. You look great, and you should have a great night. Don't think too much."

Gina downed a cup of strong knee buckling jungle punch, nodding anxiously. "You're right. I need to chill. What are the odds right? I'm tripping. I'm big tripping. I'm a enjoy this party like I planned and I'm a stay where it's lit. I ain't got the energy for that dark shit."

"That's the spirit. Go dance. Shake it off."

"I'm a shake it off," Gina sighed, shaking her arms and heading toward one of the many 6'0 snacks. "I'm a dance on him, take the edge off, then I'm going to pee."

Mezca chuckled and followed suit, dancing with a few good partners and trading numbers. She disappeared into the crowd after dance three, hunting out food and waiting on the drunken costume contest. That was when she came across a convincing Spiderpunk, masked. He was instantly her pick to win.

"You gonna drink that with your mask on? Let me show you how it's done," she teased, chugging the strong punch. He peeled off his mask, revealing a handsome face that she would be honored to sit on.

"Now how you gonna question my abilities and life choices without telling me your name?"

"You can't tell? I'm Presidential Barbie, mothafucka."

"A Black republican, I bet," he sat his cup down, crossing his arms. "You heard me," he smirked.

"Funny. You know, you never know who has a death note these days. Gotta be extra careful."

"Heads of Tails killer probably got one. I can't believe you got in front of this party and scared the everloving shit out of everyone in here by reading the news. Nigga..."

"Mezca."

Athough Gina said it when Mezca was introduced... but she didn't expect him to remember.

His brows rose. "Erik."

Mezca nodded, taking in his features and running them against the killer profile in her head. He hit all the marks as a match, but he wasn't the only one.

"Usually," she picked up, "Killers pick a victim or victim type and stick to it. A lot of women here fit the type to a T. The odds are actually fair that the killer would be here tonight. What do you think?"

"You probably ain't wrong," his brow raises once more. Mezca had a strong feeling this was the guy, but there was no way to prove it. He hadn't done anything. 'Well, Mezca, or Barbie... this party has Spiderpunk's protection. Toss a hat in the air if you need assistance."

He left the table with a full cup. Mezca did the same and then joined some familiar faces. They, too, were nervous about the serial killer potentially roaming their grounds for his next victim.

"Damn. The true crime story actually did scare the shit out of the entire party," Mezca muttered. "Guys... Are we the only black people having a party on Halloween? Come on. Be real! Chances are slim that any of you need to worry."

Despite her words, she knew different. It was very possible that someone would die, and she'd be there to live the moment and witness the investigation that she was so fascinated with. It was screwed up how she looked forward to it. She only hoped it was no one she knew personally. She kept eyes on women she knew just in case.

"Shit! Where's Gina?"

She took the solo walk to the restrooms, a gun in her pink purse. Gina did mention that she had to take a leak. The bathroom was empty. Since she was the only one, Mezca decided to go. She made it quick, wasting no time in the stall. Then she went to wash her hands, and something small on the counter caught her attention. It was just a penny. Her heart nearly stopped. She left the bathroom quickly, but something didn't sit right.

Hesitantly, Mezca backed up and re-entered the bathroom. She pushed open every other stall door until she got the locked disability toilet. She was hesitant. Finding the courage, she kicked the door. Nothing.

She released a breath and went back to the party, searching for the host, not finding her. She did bump into Spiderpunk once more.

"Erik! Have you seen Gina?"

"Gina? Last I saw, she was with someone. A guy."

"Did you see where they went? Something isn't right. She'd never come back."

"And you want ME to help you? You trust me like that? I saw you eyeing me sideways."

"I know you better than I know these other guys. You're my best option. Besides, I got a little something-something in case you get outta line."

"Aight then... Let's find your friend."

Mezca kept a small distance as she followed Spiderpunk from the banquet hall into the long and empty hotel conference hall. It was an entire hotel floor. Sure enough, she heard the familiar sound of Gina's giggling at the end.

"Excuse you?! I was worried for nothing," she growled, meeting her friend. "You know you just went missing?!"

"Huh? Oh, Mezca! Mezca, Mezca. Meet David. David's a fitness trainer and look at this," she pulled up his shirt, rubbing her hand down his abs. "AHH! Okay, okay." She lowered it. "Ain't he fine? He's got 8% body fat. Say Hi Daviiiid."

"Hi David." Mezca turned quickly back to Gina. "Can I talk to you?" Behind the fake plant, eight feet away, Mezca whispered, giving Gina a piece of her mind. "Are you crazy? We just talked about the shit going on, and you disappear!?"

"Hm? Well, no. It's just- it's a party... I took your advice, not to worry about it. What are the odds?"

"HIGH, BITCH, I WAS LYING!" Mezca held her face, fully stressed. "I was scared shitless looking for you. You can't do that shit. Not now!"

"Wow. Well," Gina glared briefly, "We'll talk about that later... in detail... I guess the important thing is you found me alive and well... AND I see you're not doing too bad yourself," her head tilted toward the 6'2 Spiderpunk.

"Erik," Mezca remembered. "He's the one who helped me find you and now he's, I guess, chilling... waiting to escort me back so I don't get murdered. What the fuck is this reality we're living?"

"I don't know, but he doesn't seem like a bad guy."

Mezca sighed. "Not a bad guy at all." Hesitantly, she left Gina there in the empty hall with her fitness trainer and walked with Erik back toward the banquet. A little slower this time as they talked.

"You suspected me," Erik looked up.

Mezca had to admit. "I did... Only because you fit the profile. But so do nine other guys here."

"I noticed. Maybe a Halloween party wasn't such a good idea this year."

Both heads turned at the sound of Gina's shriek. They went running back to find her and David in a frozen state. There was a woman's body behind the escalator they hadn't noticed until now.

The scream that left Mezca's throat when she saw it was out of her control. She knew the dead girl. They'd gone to the same university. She'd wanted to witness shit when it went down, but not like this. Mezca stumbled backward from the sight and ran back to the party to snatch the mic from the DJ.

"TAMRON IS DEAD! THE KILLER IS HERE!"

No one moved, choosing to stare in confusion.

"SOMEONE CALL THE DAMN POLICE," she shouted, pushing them into action. The police arrived within 5 minutes, ending the party. Fear was at an all-time high.

Mezca, Gina, David, and Erik were made to give statements of what they witnessed while the body was taken for examination. Mezca couldn't look now that she knew the victim, and she was too frazzled to think about details. There wasn't much she could offer to help.

"At least we know now who it's not," David commented when it was all over and time to part ways. In a way, that was true. He looked at Gina. "Walk you to your car?"

"Sure," she followed beside him.

He left up the escalator with Gina. Meanwhile, Erik escorted Mezca to her car while she vented about the bad luck.

"You mind sitting with me? Just a second?" She unlocked her doors for Erik to sit instead of standing outside of the car to talk. "This was not how I saw the night going," she admitted. "I'll be honest, I was screwed enough to wanna see a case go down in real time, but not with Tamron. That's complete bullshit. Tamron?!"

"Did you see anything else weird tonight? Anyone acting suspicious?"

"Everyone was suspicious."

"Yeah," he sighed. "I guess it's a stupid question. I do have a better one... Hey," he leaned, suddenly more curious. "I've been meaning to ask you... Heads or Tails?"

"What?" Mezca glared. "That's not funny. Why would you do that?"

"You have a 50/50 chance of survival," he whispered, a knife materializing in his hand. "No. No," he took her purse with the gun. "Scream, and it becomes 0." He sat a quarter on her dashboard. "Pick it up."

Chills came over her.

"Pick it up, or you'll forfeit the game. I'm sure you know what happens then. You damn near came to it on stage."

"That wasn't-"

"So damn eager to see some carnage. What about becoming it? Yeah?... Yeah, I think so. Pick up the coin, and this is the last time I'm giving you this option."

Mezca cautiously picked up the quarter.

"Now I'll offer you two roads because we did have a little connection. If you're lucky, you'll get what you wanted at the start of the night to see some real shit go down that you can tell your followers about. It not... then you know the drill. You know how it is."

Mezca was hesitant, wondering how she would get out of the shituation.

"Flip it."

"I will, I swear, but could you give me some reasoning so I understand?"

"Flip.. the damn.. quarter, Mezca. Just flip it. Now."

With no choice and at knife point, she flipped the jcoin. He covered it immediately.

"Call it."

"Tails." She could feel the sweat beading on her face as he revealed the coin.

"Tails," he smirked. "You really are lucky. Come on, I'll show you exactly how I do it. You're getting a front row seat as my number one fan.

Mezca remained silent as they switched places, him taking the wheel. She observed anxiously as Erik stalked through the night, creeping searching.

"There," he pointed at an open diner. When Mezca was confused, he explained that he could tell by cars approximately how many women were inside. He also knew when they closed and when shifts ended.

"Stay right there and be a good lil president," he muttered, looking back as he got out of the car. "And keep your eyes on that alley," he pointed.

Mezca watched him, immersed in eerie vibes. She didn't like feeling responsible for this kind of thing going down. She called 911 to alert them to quietly ambush him, explaining that if they hurried, they could stop a murder. She was putting her own life in the line as well to call.

The police came quietly with their lights off, finding Mezca in her car and taking her into theirs for protection.

When Spiderpunk emerged from the diner with a woman, he was quickly apprehended.

"Wait," Mezca stared through the glass, "That's not him. It's his costume, but it's not him."

The police searched the diner, but didn't find Erik. Mezca was now terrified for her own safety and afraid to be alone. The went to the police station, but there wasn't much they could do but keep eyes on her neighborhood and building.

Once out of the station, she got a call from an unknown number. She thought of going back, but answered it outside instead.

"Hello?"

"I'm always watching you. Don't make me change my mind about you, Mezca. Go straight home. Follow the speed limit. Have a good night."

How many people had survived his game and then kept their mouth shut because they were terrified he'd come back? There had to be more than a few out there. Mezca did just what he said for the night. She went home, and after hours lying awake, fell asleep. She waited a full week before she went to the police again to tell them about Erik's threat. By then, he'd killed eight more.

Luckily, with her in-depth description, Erik was captured days later. She still double-checked her doors and lied awake at night.

Some things you don't get over.

Sometimes life is such that you can only lie down at night and HOPE that in the morning reality has changed... into the Hearteyes Zone.

@dashhoney25 @lettidarawest @soufcakmistress @ljstraightnochaser @princessstevens-blog @eye-raq @thiccdaddy-mbaku @destinio1 @iamrheaspeaks @hidden-treasures21 @bidibidibombaclaat @forbeautyandlife @blowmymbackout @misspooh @thotyana-in-this-hoe @purplehairgawdess @thegucciwaffle @goddessofthundathighs @theegoldenchild @thadelightfulone @sultanabby @mysticalblackhottie @baekhyunbabybunni @fd-writes @richonne4life @goldieccentric @thehomierobbstark @capswife @blackpinup22 @harleycativy @lishabaybeee-blog @playgurlxoxo @beaut1fulone-blog @blackerthings @syndrlla97 @ladymac82 @browngirldominion

#original #erik killmonger #killmonger #erik stevens #erik killmonger fanfiction #erik killmonger imagine #black panther killmonger #black panther fanfiction #black fanfic writer #black fanfiction #the hearteyes zone #heads or tails #spooky szn

[starshine-hockey-girl]

Scent of a Woman - Journey to the Emerald City - Chapter 16

Summary - Lex's embarrassing little secret leads chaos and misunderstanding on a road trip.

Author's Note- A return to fluffy Teddy and Lex. I apologize for the delay. I also apologize for the slight character assassination of Fanny. She seems like a lovely woman.

@pattiemac1 @newlibrary @penstxgal1968 @dutch-tv-fan @irlkpop

If you asked Lex, he would say that he had no idea where the habit began. He would probably deny that there was a habit at all. Truth be told, the desire that fed the habit began within weeks of the start of his physical relationship with Teddy. On a road trip later that fall, he found himself longing for her scent as he spent night after lonely night in hotel rooms.

He couldn't pinpoint the exact descriptions of her scents but there were two variations. One was her "fresh out of the shower” scent of Bath and Body Works Champagne Toast that reminded him of tangerines, berries and champagne. It was sweet and bubbly, just like her. She wore it in layers that ensured that scent lingered throughout the day.

The second was a rare perfume that was intoxicating. It had been a gift from her parents. She wore it sparingly, saving it for special occasions. Each time he smelled it he was transported back to their first kiss outside the Music Hall, to the landing outside the garage apartment where he buried his face in her neck as she tried to unlock the door or that moment she took him deep within her and leaned forward to kiss his neck. The scent was calming yet arousing at the same time. It made him dizzy with desire.

The first thing he "acquired" to satisfy his need for her scent was a scarf that had been tossed in a corner during one of their many races to disrobe each other after any sort of separation. He couldn't help it if the scarf accidentally made its way into his suitcase for the next road trip. Teddy never mentioned the missing scarf. She had convinced herself that she had left it at the Starbucks she had stopped at to pick up their coffee order. He never admitted it was in his possession.

The second item was the emerald green silk nightgown that she wore on their last night together before he flew to Pittsburgh. Obviously, it got mixed in with his clothes as they rushed to make his flight. It was totally normal that it stayed under his pillow and he smelled it before he fell asleep every night. Well until the scent faded into oblivion.

It was during his second return trip to Dallas after his trade that the third and only deliberate theft occurred. He slipped the small bottle of perfume into his pocket when he arrived at her hotel room. It was then that the habit began. One spritz on the hotel pillow and he slept soundly. At the time he had no idea that he would be continuing the action nearly two years later. It was his little road secret and no one needed to know. At least that was the way he planned to keep it until it all came unraveled. How do you ask? Three words- Tyler Fucking Seguin

October 18th- Pittsburgh, PA

Lex walked off the team bus with his cell phone pressed to his ear. Teddy was in the middle of telling him about the latest news in their hunt for a new apartment. He looked up as he began the walk to the arena. “Bliss, I need to go into morning skate. Can I call you” he began when he felt Tyler shove him behind before he reached up and snatched the phone from his hand.

“Teddy!” Tyler laughed into the phone.

“Tyler?” Teddy asked in question, “What happened to Lex? Why do you have his phone?”

“I took it from him,” Tyler laughed again as he turned to see Lex walking towards him.

“You…. took…. the…. phone from him?” she said in disbelief, “How did you do that? WHY did you do that?”

“You doubt my ability to best the Big Rig. Oh ye of little faith!” Tyler exclaimed as Lex approached him with a smile on his face. “I stole it because I texted earlier and you did not respond. I had to resort to desperate measures,” Tyler said before he realized what was about to be his fate. “Teddy!” he shrieked as Lex reached him, “He’s going to put me in a…..”

Tyler’s voice became muffled and Teddy finished his sentence, “A headlock? Seriously Tyler, did you not learn your lesson in September?”

Lex snatched the phone from Tyler’s hand, but continued to hold him in a headlock. Tyler’s arms flailed as Lex spoke, “So as I was saying Bliss- I have to go into the morning skate. I will call you afterwards okay. ”

“Lex…..let him go,” Teddy chided her giant of a boyfriend gently.

“Why? He snatched the phone from me while I was talking to you. That cannot go unpunished, Bliss,” Lex smiled as he tightened his grip. Tyler’s pleas for help could be heard on Teddy’s end.

“Lex…. let him go,” Teddy chided again.

Lex tightened his grip and Tyler inhaled deeply. Then Tyler’s eyebrows knitted in confusion. Finally, Lex released his grip, Tyler stumbled forward before he regained his balance. “Seggy sends his best, Bliss. Don’t you Seggy?” Lex smiled as he turned from Tyler, “I’ll talk to you later Bliss. Will you be at home? Can you help me with some pregame relaxation?”

“As long as Tyler remains uninjured, even if he brought this on himself, I can accommodate your request,” she smiled into her phone.

“Don’t worry about Seggy here. I am sure his pride will recover nicely. Love you. I will talk to you later Bliss, ” Lex laughed as Tyler stood and watched him. When Tyler started to walk towards him with purpose, he stepped back. “Woah, Seggy. You started it, “ Lex held up his hands in mock surrender. Tyler marched up to Lex, grabbed his hand and sniffed it “What the fuck dude?” Lex huffed.

Tyler took a step back and looked up at Lex, “Why do you smell like Teddy?”

Lex stepped back again, “Why do I smell like my girlfriend? I think that you can imagine why.”

“No, I can’t,” Tyler replied, “I can’t imagine why you smell like Teddy in the middle of a road trip.”

Lex blinked slowly. He thought back to his morning in the hotel. In his rush to pack his toiletries he had accidentally sprayed Teddy’s perfume. The mist landed on his hands and sleeve of his shirt. Lex struggled to come up with an explanation.

Tyler continued to pry, “We have been on the road for four days. I’ve seen you shower after games.” Lex lifted his eyebrow at that remark. “Not seen, but know that you have showered after games,” Tyler explained, “There is no reason to smell like Teddy unless……. Is she here? Did she sneak into your room last night? Is that why she didn’t answer my call earlier?”

“No, of course not,” Lex answered sternly.

“Then why do you smell like her?” Tyler eyed him suspiciously.

Lex ran his fingers through his hair and weighed his options. From what he could tell, it was either come clean or come up with an excuse in the next five seconds which seemed highly unlikely. “Fuck,” he huffed as he looked to the sky.

Tyler tilted his head. He had just been giving Big Rig a hard time. Now he was clearly upset. This had quickly gone from teasing to revealing something serious at a speed that made him dizzy.

Lex turned to him and spoke softly, “This stays between you and me, got it?”

“Nope, I am not agreeing to that at all,” Tyler suddenly got equally serious, “If you are going to confess to some sort of shenanigans that affects Teddy, I am telling her.”

“Oh shut up,” Lex hissed. Then he turned around and paced for a bit. “I smell like her because I accidentally sprayed her perfume on my hands while I was packing it this morning.”

Tyler looked confused, “Why do you have Teddy’s perfume? Is this some sort of kink….” He stopped himself short when the memory of the last time he suggested that Big Rig had some sort of kink.

“No, it’s not some kinky shit,” Lex whined, “I just like the smell. It helps me on the road.” Tyler blinked. “I sleep better when I smell it on the road,” Lex explained, “It makes me miss her less. Sometimes I miss her so much and the scent helps me.” His voice cracked at the end.

Tyler opened his mouth to say something sarcastic but words failed him. They stood and stared at each other. Finally Tyler spoke, “How long?”

“Ummm, since the beginning?” Lex replied, “It started off unintentionally with a scarf she left at my apartment. Then it was her nightgown she wore on my last night in Dallas.” Tyler’s eyes widened and Lex glared at him. “Then her perfume may have ended up in my luggage after my trip back to Dallas.”

“You stole her perfume? She didn’t lose it at the hotel?” Tyler laughed.

“You knew about that?” Lex questioned.

“Of course, I knew about it,” Tyler quipped, “She whined to me about it for weeks. It was her special Paris perfume and she lost it.”

“Her special Paris perfume?” Lex asked.

“You don’t know the story of the perfume?” Tyler remarked, “See…. this is why I am the best friend and you are just the boyfriend.”

Lex took a step forward, “Do you need the headlock again?”

“Okay, okay,” Tyler said, “Walk and I will tell you the story.”

“You know that Baxters all went to Paris to celebrate Teddy’s sixteenth birthday? You know Mrs. B- it was a production. One of the activities was a private party at perfumery where you can create custom scents. Teddy made a custom scent for Frankie and Frankie made one for her.”

“That’s the perfume she wears? The scent that Frankie made for her?” Lex interjected.

“Shut up and listen to the story,” Tyler countered.

“They each got two bottles of the scent created for them. Teddy has been using hers since Frankie died. When she finished the first bottle, she switched to alternating between the fruity one and the Frankie one. At least until she thought she lost it at the hotel,” Tyler paused to glare at Lex in disapproval. “She was heartbroken. It was one of the last tangible items she had connected to Frankie. I don’t know how he did it, but Mr. Baxter pulled the rabbit out of a hat and got a replacement.”

“Fuck,” Lex uttered, “I had no idea. I just thought it was a nice perfume.”

“So you stole it?” Tyler quizzed, “Nice… really nice.”

“You can’t tell her,” Lex replied, suddenly panicking about what Tyler would do with incriminating information. “Seriously,” he stammered, “You can’t tell her.”

“Don’t worry, Big Rig. Your secret is safe with me,” Tyler laughed, “It’s kind of sweet in a slightly obsessive-compulsive way. It’s totally on brand for you two.”

“Promise?” Lex asked with a hint of desperation in his voice.

“Dude- relax,” Tyler said in a serious tone, “Your secret is safe with me.”

October 31st- JW Marriott Hotel- Denver, CO

“Big Rig, it’s your lucky day,” the team travel coordinator smiled at him as she passed out room keys. His eyebrows lifted in surprise and in question. “It seems as if someone loves you and upgraded you to a suite!”

“A suite?” Lex asked in a confused tone, “Who would do that?” Then he smiled to himself. He knew exactly who upgraded his room- Teddy. He pulled out his phone and made the call. Teddy was in Los Angeles at a conference for social media influencers. She was scheduled to speak on panels about brand engagement and body image in social media. The conference conflicted with the hastily scheduled WAG “road trip” for the AV/Stars game.

Lex: Bliss? What did you do?

Teddy: I have no idea. What did I do?

She smiled at him as she walked around her hotel room in Los Angeles. She paused and looked out the window.

Lex: You know exactly what you did. The upgrade to the suite?

Teddy: Oh that? I thought it would be a nice treat since I couldn’t make the trip.

Lex: I would rather have a smaller room and you here.

Teddy let out a sigh.

Lex: I didn’t mean it that way. I understand you have your own career. I just miss you.

Teddy: I miss you too. I’ll see you Saturday night?

Lex: I can’t wait. Thanks again for the suite. You spoil me, Bliss.

Teddy: Nothing makes me happier than spoiling you.

Word spread like wildfire among the team and WAGS. Suddenly plans were made- party in Big Rig’s suite. When Teddy got word, she arranged for food and a bar set-up to make the party as festive as possible.

Later that night, the team was sitting in the living room watching Scream. Lex looked around the room and sighed. Couples were huddled close together. He felt a pang in his heart and thought about Teddy. Silently, he got up and went into the bedroom unnoticed by the group with the exception of Fanny, John Klingberg’s girlfriend. Her eyes followed his large frame until he shut the bedroom door. Lex walked over to the window and looked up at the moon. Then he picked up the phone and facetimed Teddy.

Teddy: Hey Lex

Lex spoke in a soft tone: Bliss

Teddy stopped in her tracks: What’s wrong, Lex?

Lex: I just miss you. It’s cuddle central out there and I don’t have my cuddle buddy.

Teddy: I am sorry, Lex. What can I do to make it better?

Lex: Remember last year when you sang me that song? From that mouse movie?

Teddy smiled at the memory: Yes, I remember. It was back when I wanted to say I love you but couldn’t say it yet.

Lex: Do you think you could sing to me again? I am looking at the moon.

Teddy: Of course, I can.

Teddy began singing softly as Lex listened. Outside the door, Fanny paced outside of the door. She turned to walk back to the couch but then gathered up her nerve. She desperately needed to go pee, but Benn and Katie had ensconced themselves in the suite powder room. Nervously she knocked.

Lex turned to face the door. “Yeah?” he answered abruptly, slightly irritated that his serenade was being interrupted.

“Ummm, can I use the restroom?” Fanny asked quietly.

“There is a powder room out there,” he called back.

“Yeah, but there are people in it. It’s kind of an emergency,” she replied.

Lex stared at the door and pondered her answer. “There are people in the powder room?” he thought to himself, “What would they be doing in the powder room?” Then he remembered Fanny was waiting on an answer. He walked over to the door, opened it and pointed to the bathroom. He returned to his position by the window.

Inside the bathroom, Fanny set her phone on the back of the toilet and attended to her business. She could hear Lex speaking in hushed tones, but could not make what was being said.

Inside the bedroom, Lex listened to Teddy’s sweet voice as he considered the powder room situation. Visuals of his very sexy encounter with Teddy in Tyler’s powder room flooded his mind. He was so caught up in the memory that he didn’t notice that Teddy had stopped singing.

Teddy: Lex? You still there?

Lex came back to reality: Yeah, sorry. I was just thinking about something.

Teddy: And what would that be?

Lex glanced over his shoulder: Remember that time in Seggy’s powder room? Remember how I fucked you?

Teddy purred: Yeah, I remember that. I remember it very well.

Lex let out a soft moan: Damn it Bliss. You’re turning me on.

Teddy purred again: Want me to help you out there Big Boy?

Lex heard the bathroom door open and Fanny stepped into the room. He turned quickly back to the window.

Lex: Good God Kitty, you are so fucking sexy. I would love to finish this but now is not a good time. Maybe later?

Fanny froze in her footsteps.

Teddy asked: Too many prying ears?

Lex: Prying ears and eyes

Fanny stepped closer to the bed to hear better. She was almost touching the bed when the scent of Teddy’s perfume wafted into her nose. She looked down and then around. It was a distinctly feminine scent. It was a scent that should not have been present in Big Rig’s room. She looked at the bed and then at Lex. His back was still to her so she allowed her nose to follow the scent to its source- the pillows on the unmade bed. Her mind began to race. Why was the bed unmade? The team had just arrived in town that afternoon. Why was there a scent of a woman’s perfume on the pillow? Her mind lept to the most logical conclusion. A woman had been in the bed. A woman that was not Big Rig’s beloved,Teddy, had been in the bed.

She let out a little squeak and he turned to face her. Their eyes locked for a moment and Fanny turned to race out of the bedroom. In the living room, Fanny mentally replayed the scenario. “Maybe later?” she thought to herself, “He is making plans for later?”

Fanny smiled to herself and exited the room. Truth to be told, she wasn’t a fan of the Big Tex couple. Teddy and Lex had been given the moniker by the players and WAGS sometime during their “friends with benefits” stage and it stuck.

Moments later, Lex walked around and resumed his position for the movie. He didn’t notice the careful watch that Fanny took as he scrolled through his phone, looking at pictures of his beloved Bliss. He tilted his phone slightly to prevent the racier photos from being seen by others. He squirmed in his spot as the longing in him grew exponentially. One particular picture made him lick his lips as he switched over to his messages.

Lex: Good God - remind me never to invite people into my room again.

Teddy: Why?

Lex: I am so fucking horny.

Teddy: Easy there Tiger. Kitty Kat won't be available for another couple of hours.

Lex groaned out loud and looked around the room. Fanny stared at him. They made brief eye contact and he focused on his phone again.

Lex: Save me. I beg you. Fanny is staring at me like she can read my thoughts.

Teddy: Are you still afraid of WAGS?

Lex: Hey, WAGS are scary

Teddy didn’t respond

Lex: except you of course. Please Bliss.

Teddy: You owe me Tiger

Lex: Anything you want

Suddenly his phone rang and the extremely loud sound of Teddy's crocodile tears rang through the phone.

Teddy screamed: Lex!!! Lex!!!

Lex sprung into action. He jumped off the club chair and responded: Bliss!! What's wrong? What's wrong?

Everyone turned to listen to the activity.

Teddy began a torrent of incoherent screaming and crying. Inwardly, he smiled but his face showed concern. He turned to the group, “Sorry guys, Teddy is having a meltdown about her speech tomorrow. I need to talk her down from the ledge. You have to go. You have to go.”

Everyone looked at each other in confusion. He could always go into the other room if necessary. However, no one took the initiative to argue with the Big Rig who made it clear that he wanted everyone out of his room. He wanted them out and he wanted them out NOW.

They slowly shuffled out of the room, whispering amongst themselves. After a quick huddle, they decided to reconvene in Benn’s room. Fanny replayed the scenario from Lex's bedroom over and over in her mind. Should she say something?She would want to know if John was cheating on her. She stewed and finally came to the decision to ask the other WAGS..

She poked Katie in the ribs and nodded her head toward the bathroom. She whispered “It's an emergency.” Katie whispered into Anna’s ear and word spread.

Once all the women crowded into the bathroom, Katie stood against the door with her arms crossed. Because she dated Benn, she was the de facto leader of the group. “What’s the emergency, Fanny?” Katie asked bluntly. Quite frankly, she wasn't a huge fan and she had unfinished business with Benn

Fanny breathlessly described her observations to the group. She was met with immediate disbelief and judgment.

“I don’t buy it,” Andrea Bishop interjected.

“Me either,” Anna Lindell added.

“Look, I know that I am new around here,” Jennifer Spezza said, “But one thing I know for sure is that Big Rig only has eyes for Teddy.”

Fanny started to explain again.

“It’s almost like you are wanting it to be true,” Katie observed. The other WAGS nodded their heads.

“Don’t you think she would want to know?” Fanny questioned. This juicy bit of gossip was not being received the way that she envisioned.

“There is nothing to know,” Katie replied, “You smelled some perfume and overhead what you think was Big Rig making plans.”

“I think that we should tell her,” Fanny interrupted.

“Fuck no,” Andrea answered, “She has a huge presentation tomorrow. The last thing that we are going to do is upset her for no damn reason.”

With that, the group adjourned back to their men. Then the party fizzled quickly after that. John and Fanny walked toward their room. He asked her what the huddle was about. Fanny explained her observations. “Big Rig cheat?” he laughed, “Why would he cheat NOW? Why would he risk it during a WAGS trip even if Teddy is not here? He knows better than that. He is not an idiot like…..”

“An idiot like who?” Fanny whipped her head around.

Klingberg stopped in his tracks. “Shit” he thought to himself, “I said the quiet part out loud.” This was a topic of conversation that he wanted to avoid at all costs. “Fan,” he spit, “I am just saying that Big Rig is smarter than most of us. He wouldn’t make hook-up plans with the entire team literally in the next room.”

“So you are saying that he would cheat if we weren’t around?” she said as her eyes narrowed, “Are you saying that’s what you would do if I weren’t around?”

“Kärlek,” he soothed, “You know I love you and only you. There is no one else in my heart.” Technically, it wasn’t a lie. He didn’t say there wasn’t anyone else in his bed or on his dick. “Come, let me show you,” He grabbed her hand to lead her, “Maybe we can take a fun video on your phone.”

Fanny stopped suddenly and stuck her hand into her pockets. Her phone wasn’t there. She mentally backtracked until she realized that she must have left it in Big Rig’s room. Klingberg tried to convince her to continue to the room and get the phone later. Fanny insisted on getting it then. She had plans to text her sisters in Sweden with the gossip about Teddy and Lex. Even if none of the other WAGS had taken the bait, she was sure that they would.

Back in Lex’s suite, he sat on the couch nude. His phone was propped up on the entertainment center. Teddy’s green silk nightgown had been thrown down in haste when she had called for their planned video fuck. His hand stroke furiously as he watched Teddy expertly bring herself to her climax with Pinky and her fingers. She screamed out in ecstasy as the third orgasm washed over her. Ever the gentleman, Lex made sure that she reached her peak before he succumbed to his desire.

A series of grunts and moans escaped his mouth as he edged closer. Finally, he exclaimed, “Fuck Kitty Kat. Oh God, you fuck your Tiger so good.” Teddy’s eyes widened and he went silent. It was their unspoken rule that those names were reserved for their kinkier, in person play sessions.

“Uhhhhh, Lex?” she questioned.

“Sorry, Sorry, “ he stammered, “I don’t know what I was thinking.”

“Seems like Tiger is in need of his Kitty Kat,” she said seductively, “You like how Kitty Kat is a good girl for you?”

Lex felt his body respond, “Kitty Kat you know I like everything about you.”

Outside the room, Fanny listened in shock. She had arrived just as Lex had screamed Kitty Kat. Her mind jumped to the most shocking of conclusions. She was RIGHT. He had someone in there with him- some whore named Kitty Kat. She smiled to herself in triumph. “Guess I wasn’t so wrong after all. Was I girls?” she thought to herself. She started to walk away in triumph and in anticipation of the salacious update she was about to provide when she remembered her phone. She would need it to text and call people. She turned and knocked on the door.

Inside the room, Lex stroked himself. It took almost a full minute of knocking for the sound to register in his brain. “Fuck,” he uttered in annoyance, “Kitty Kat, someone is is at the door. I gotta go.”

“Lex Love, at least cover yourself up,” Teddy laughed.

Lex called out, “Hold on. I gotta get dressed.” He went to the bedroom and grabbed his gray sweat pants and shimmied into them. His chest glistened with sweat as he opened the door. He saw Fanny standing there with a look of smug satisfaction. “Hey,” he said, not bothering to hide the annoyance in his voice, “I am kind of in the middle of something.”

“I bet you are,” Fanny muttered under her breath as she glanced down. Lex’s erection was evident under the soft fleece of his pants. Lex’s head tilted, not quite sure he heard her correctly. “I….. ummmm…. left my phone here,” Fanny said plainly.

“Oh,” he stepped back and let her enter. Together they stepped into the room. Teddy, hearing voices, disconnected the FaceTime video. Lex’s eyes glanced at the phone. Fanny followed his eyes then moved onto the couch where Teddy’s green nightgown sat out in the open. Fanny scanned the rest of the living room. No other evidence of a woman stood out to her, but her mind raced with the presence of woman’s lingerie. There was definitely something going on.

“I think it may be in the bathroom. I was in there earlier,” she said as she walked in that direction. Lex stepped back to let her pass. Mentally he cursed both himself and her. He could hear her moving around and he paced back and forth.

In the bathroom, Fanny quickly found her phone. She glanced over to the counter where Lex’s toiletry bag sat. She quickly looked in the direction of the living room while she stepped forward. Two things immediately stood out - a small glass bottle with a label printed in French and a condom. She picked it up and smiled.

“Did you find it?” Lex called out as calmly as he could. His heart raced although he was unsure of just why. “How much had she heard?” he questioned himself. The chirps about Teddy and his sex life had just about stopped. If Fanny heard anything, they were sure to start up again. Little did he know the wildfire of gossip she was about to unleash within the group.

Fanny’s head popped up, “Yes, but can I pee real quick?” She took out the phone and snapped photos. She turned on the water to “wash” her hands and formulated a plan. Then she placed the items back to their original locations and held her phone in her hand. She moved quickly into the living room, made a beeline for the couch, snapped a photo of the nightgown on the couch and headed toward the door before Lex could process her movements.

“Thanks Big Rig,” Fanny called over her shoulder, “You should get some sleep. It’s a big game tomorrow and you look exhausted.”

He stood in disbelief. She was up to something but he couldn’t tell what. Then he shook his head. “Dude,” he said to himself, “You’re being paranoid and whatnot. She is perfectly innocent.” Still he couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in his chest. He scooped up his phone and went into the bedroom. Teddy picked up his FaceTime call.

Teddy: Did Tiger behave himself?

Lex rolled his eyes: You know that Tiger only comes out for you.

Teddy smiled: Was that Fanny’s voice I heard?

Lex shook his head: She left her phone in the bathroom earlier. She came to get it.

Teddy’s eyes narrowed: What’s wrong, Lex Love?

Lex sighed: It’s nothing. I just got a bad feeling about her.

Teddy: Love, you are probably just picking up my feelings about her. She is the only one that I don��t get along with. Katie and I can’t stand her.

Lex nodded his head. He had overhead the two best friends venting about her in the past. Fanny considered herself to be the de-facto leader of the WAGS because of Klingberg’s tenure and she resisted any suggestion that Katie or Teddy made.

Lex rubbed his face: That may be it. Talk about a mood killer though.

Teddy winked at him: It’s probably a good thing. I have a big day tomorrow so I should get some sleep.

Lex smiled: How many people will be at your session?

Teddy bit her lip: Almost a thousand. Apparently there is a wait list to get in. No pressure or anything.

Lex studied her for a moment before speaking: Get out of your head, Bliss. You are more than prepared. Your speech is amazing and perfectly on brand for you.

Teddy flashed him a smile: Thank you Love. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.

November 1st - Jamie Benn’s hotel room

Benn rolled over and sighed, “What in hell is going on? You have been texting all night.”

Katie paused, “You won't believe it if I told you.”

Benn yawned “Try me, honey.”

Katie explained Fanny’s initial assertions. “We all said no way,” she added, “but then she went back and found this.” She handed over her phone to show him the pictures of the perfume bottle, nightgown and the most damning evidence- the condom.

“Shit,” the captain said in disbelief, “That’s unbelievable. Lex has never even looked at another woman since Teddy. What the hell?”

“How do you explain those pictures?” she accused.

“I can't,” he replied softly.

“What do I do?” Katie asked, “I should tell her, right? I would want to know. It's going to break her heart.”

Benn thought for a few minutes, “Make Seggy do it.”

Katie looked up in surprise, “Think he will do it? Isn’t there some sort of bro code?”

“If Teddy is being cheated on, Tyler will squeal like a fucking canary,” Benn laughed. Katie knitted her brows together. He pulled her into his chest. “Seriously, if it were anyone else, Tyler wouldn’t say a word. There is no way that he is going to let Big Rig cheat on her on his watch.

With that, Katie sent a message to the WAGS group chat that excluded Teddy. It was a simple “Stand down. I am going to talk to Seggy about it. I think the news should come from him.” The message was met with mixed replies. Half of the group agreed that Tyler would err on the side of telling Teddy while the other half felt he would not sell out his teammate.

Katie was waiting for Tyler in the hotel lobby when the team arrived back from morning skate. He took one look at her face and joked, “What did I do?” When she didn’t smile or laugh, he got serious, “Tell me.”

Tyler listened incredulously as after the narrative began to become clear. He shook his head vigorously from side to side. “Nope,” he asserted, “No way that Big Rig is cheating on her. Not after everything that they have been through together. No fucking way.” Katie listed off the WAGS group accusations against Big Rig.

When she told him about the perfume scent and saw the picture of the bottle, he emphatically answered, “You are barking up the wrong tree.” When Katie asked how he was so sure, Tyler paused. He had given his word to Big Rig that he would keep his secret. He was not about to cough it now because the WAGS had gotten a bee in their collective bonnets.

He similarly dismissed what Fanny overheard. He knew from past conversations with Teddy that they indulged in smutty phone and video calls. Okay, she had never deliberately told him about the calls but Tipsy Teddy let it slip out once in a rush to get Tyler off the phone so she could speak to Big Rig. Again, he wasn’t about to reveal that information, but it convinced him that Fanny had not overheard anything of consequence. He did make a mental note to ask Teddy about the “Kitty Kat” nickname.

However, when she showed him the photo of the condom, he went silent for a moment. Why would Big Rig have a condom in his toiletry bag? Katie sensed his hesitation and pounced. She raised the same question he had just asked himself. Suddenly, the most obvious answer emerged - the condom must be leftover from before they got together. Katie looked dubious.

“Yeah, remember she got upset with him because he had condoms in his bag in the limbo era between his move to Pittsburgh and them getting together, “ Tyler announced, suddenly proud that he came up with a reasonable excuse.

Katie sighed. She wanted to believe the best, but she still had questions.

Tyler stood his ground. “Come on Katie,” Tyler urged, “You know him.” Katie looked at the ground. “Hey, look at me, can I tell you something?” Tyler said softly. She looked up with hopeful eyes.

“You know that it was complicated between Teddy and me. I have a lot of ‘what could have beens’ that linger in my mind,” Tyler spoke from the heart. “I’ve accepted that Teddy and I are best friends. That’s our destiny,” he said as he swallowed. “However, I am still human. Don’t you think if I had the opportunity for a do-ever I would take it? This would be the perfect opportunity, Katie.” She studied his face that was suddenly soft with emotion.

“But I can’t because it’s not the truth. You know and I know it,” he said with an unreadable tone, “We have to shut this shit down. It’s only going to hurt Teddy and she doesn’t deserve that.”

With that, she was convinced. “I’ll do my best to shut it down.”

“Tell them to come see me if they have doubts,” he urged, “Trust me Katie. I know that he isn’t cheating on her.” They went their separate ways. Tyler looked at his phone. It was almost time for Teddy’s presentation. He sent her a quick good luck text. She responded with a thumbs up emoji.

LATER THAT NIGHT DURING THE GAME

Teddy pulled out her phone as she settled into her hotel room for the night. She pulled out her phone and did a double-take. She had 5 missed calls from Fanny along with a text that read “Please call - URGENT”. Teddy’s mind instantly went to Lex. Did something happen with him? Were they trying to get a hold of her? She mentally cursed herself for not turning on her phone sooner. Her heart began to race and she reached for the TV remote. She found the game as quickly as she could. It should be toward the end of the game. Visually she scanned the ice for his large form. He was not out there.

She cussed as she pulled up Google. Nothing new popped up when she searched his name. The broadcast finally did a shot of the bench. There was Tyler, but no Lex.

“Think,” she commanded herself, “Who would know?” She smiled and dialed Katie’s phone number. It went straight to voicemail. She decided to text instead.

Teddy: Hey, is Lex okay?

She saw Katie replying immediately.

Katie: Yes, as far as I know. I think there was an issue with his skate.

On cue, Lex emerged from the tunnel and took another shift.

Katie: Why do you ask?

Teddy exhaled and smiled to herself: Oh, it’s nothing I guess. Fanny has been blowing up my phone. I thought maybe Lex got hurt.

Katie inhaled deeply. “Shit” she thought to herself, “I thought we nipped it in the bud.” If Fanny was reaching out, the genie was about to explode out of the bottle.

Katie: Definitely not hurt. If I were you, I would get some rest and deal with Fanny tomorrow after we all get back to Dallas.

Teddy yawned: As long as Lex is okay, you don’t have to tell me twice to ignore her.

Katie hated lying by omission to her friend, but she didn’t know what else to say.

Immediately following the game, Katie made a beeline to the Stars locker room. Via text she ordered that Benn send Tyler and Big Rig out to see her immediately. Katie paced back and forth in the training room. Shit was about to get bad and about to get bad quickly.

“Yo Rig and Seggy- Katie wants to see you right away,” Benn commanded. They tried to argue with Benn about making Katie wait until they showered. It was a firm “My woman wants to see the both of you NOW for some reason. I am not going to question it. Get your asses out there so I don’t have to deal with her drama.”

Seggy and Lex walked out of the room, half undressed from the game.

Katie: We have a problem. A big Fanny problem

Lex looked at Katie in confusion. Then he looked at Tyler who seemed to understand what she said perfectly.

Tyler: How do you know?

Katie: She is blowing up Teddy’s phone.

Lex: Blowing her phone about what?

Katie narrowed her eyes: About your extracurricular activities

Lex: My what? What extracurricular activities?

Katie: Don’t play dumb with me.

Tyler interjected: Hey, we’ve already gone over this. Riggy is innocent.

Lex screamed: Innocent of what?

Katie: Of fucking around on Teddy.

Lex gasped in horror.

Lex: Why? Why would anyone think that? What does Fanny have to do with this?

Katie: She heard you. She heard you making plans last night and then all sudden we all had to leave your room.

Lex: Teddy was having a crisis. You heard her on the phone.

Katie: Oh yeah? Who’s perfume do you have in your bathroom?

Lex looked at Tyler who threw his hands up in surrender.

Tyler: It didn’t come from me, dude.

Lex: Who did it come from?

His mouth dropped when he started to put together the pieces. Fanny was in his bathroom. He must have left the perfume bottle out.

Katie continued: So you don’t deny that there is a woman’s perfume in your hotel room. Wait, you knew about the perfume, Seggy?

Tyler protested: I am not saying anything. I just know that Rig is not a cheater.

Lex’s mind raced. “Think, think, think,” he screamed internally. He considered the option he had at the moment. To tell the truth and become the laughing stock of the locker room again OR say nothing and let people think that he had been unfaithful. Neither seemed particularly appealing. He cursed his impulse decision two years ago.

Katie prodded, grabbing his attention: Why do you have women’s lingerie?

Lex looked to Tyler for help and was met with a shrug:

Lex: Ummmm, it isn’t what you think?

Katie pushed on: “Why do you have a condom??

Lex’s hands went to his head.

Lex: There is an explanation, I swear.

His voice got soft and low.

Lex: Do you honestly think that I would cheat on Bliss? After everything? Do you think I would be that stupid?

Katie sighed: That’s why I am so confused, Rig. I wouldn’t believe it but Fanny has pictures.

Tyler whistled lowly and examined Big Rig’s face. He was trying to hide the panic but it was evident.

Tyler: “Let’s focus on the immediate problem- Fanny”

Katie and Lex turned to him.

Tyler: You spoke to Teddy?

Katie: Yes, I told her to get rest and ignore Fanny.

Tyler turned to Lex: You have to tell her, dude. You have to tell her before Fanny gets to her.

Lex balked: And tell her what? That there is a rumor that I am cheating on her going through the WAGS? Seggy, you know that will be a complete mind fuck for her.

Tyler stepped up: Now, what will be a mind fuck is if she hears it from Fanny without any warning. You have to man up and tell her.

Lex turned to Katie: You are certain that Teddy won’t reach out to Fanny until tomorrow?

Katie: That’s what I told her to do.

Lex sighed: Fine, I will tell her before Fanny gets to her.

Tyler warned Lex: Just come clean. This is getting out and it will be worse if it doesn't come from you.

Sitting in the bus at the private airfield, Lex looked down at his phone and tried to will himself to hit the call button. He knew what he needed to do but his stupid pride stood in his way. He had no idea how he would explain what a complicated scenario that began with his innocent desire to feel closer to her. His thoughts were interrupted with an incoming call from Teddy.

Lex: Hey Bliss

Teddy: Hey Love. Are you okay?

Lex: Yes, why wouldn’t I be?

Teddy: You didn’t call me after the game

Lex: Oh, I forgot.

Teddy blinked: You forgot to call me?

In the two years that she had known Lex, she could count on two things - that he would text when he landed anywhere he traveled and that he would call within an hour after every road game. You could set your clock by it.

Lex hemmed: Yeah, sorry about that.

Teddy blinked: Is everything okay Lex?

Lex studied her face. He could see the anxiety creeping into her features.

Lex: Yes, everything is fine Bliss. I promise. Are you okay?

Teddy shook the negative thoughts out of her mind: I am good. I am glad to have my talk over. I have just been relaxing and ignoring Fanny.

Lex felt a knot in the pit of his stomach. He struggled to his voice neutral: Fanny? What about Fanny?

Teddy: She has been blowing up my phone. I have no idea why. I am ignoring until I get back to Dallas.

Lex breathed an internal sigh of relief.: Okay, sounds like a plan.

He studied her face and tried to work up the courage to tell her the truth. He longed to hold her as he made his confession. It would be better to do it in person, he told himself. “Yes,” he said to himself and smiled, “It will be better to do it in person.” They would be together tomorrow afternoon. The team would arrive back in Dallas in a few hours, but it would be afternoon before he saw her. Her flight from California would not arrive until after he left for practice. In the end, his fear won out and he didn't say anything.

Teddy: Are you sure you are okay? You seem off tonight.

Lex: Yes, just tired and missing you.

Teddy: Okay. Go get on the plane. See you tomorrow.

November 2nd - Lex and Teddy's apartment

Lex held the large bouquet of flowers in one hand and pressed the up button in the garage elevator. He was looking forward to their upcoming move into a house. He was tired of apartment life and parking garages. He was lost in thought when the elevator dinged. He walked in as a small blonde stormed past him, muttering under her breath in a language that sounded vaguely familiar. Her shoulder bounced off his elbow. He turned to apologize but the woman kept walking. His eyes squinted in disbelief. “Is that?” he questioned himself, “No, it can be. What are the odds?”

He pressed the button for their upper level apartment. Then he used the electronic key fob to open the door. “Bliss?” he called as he entered the apartment, “Are you home?”

“Yes,” she called from the ensuite bathroom, “just unpacking. Hold on.”

He walked into the kitchen and started to put the flowers into her favorite vase.

“Lucy, you got some ‘splaining to do,” Teddy shouted as she walked into the room. She was putting her hair into a messy bun with a fake scowl on her face.

Lex’s head popped. “I what?”

She continued into the kitchen. “You know ‘splaining like Ricky would say to Lucy in ‘I Love Lucy’ when she would do something crazy.”

“Crazy?” Lex's voice rose an octave, “I haven’t done anything crazy.”

“Are you sure about that?” Teddy walked closer, “I had a little visit with Fanny. She was waiting for me when I got home.”

His voice rose even higher, “Waiting for you? Why? Why would she be waiting for you?”

Teddy looked him straight in the eye, “Something about a perfume bottle and some lingerie?”

Lex gulped and felt the bottom fall out of his stomach. He felt the sweat instantly forming in his armpits and forehead. “Fanny told her. Fanny got to her first. Now Bliss thinks I cheated on her,” he thought to himself. The words swarmed around in his brain.

“Bliss, you can’t believe her,” he stammered, “I don’t know why she is saying it, but I am not cheating on you. I swear to God. You gotta believe me.”

Teddy tilted her head, “Wait, you knew what she told me? How did you know?”

“Katie and Seggy told me last night,” he answered.

“And you think I heard what she said and believed that you are cheating on me?” Teddy laughed and crossed over to him.

Lex blinked slowly. “What did she say?” he said softly, cursing himself for being a coward the night before.

“Well…..” Teddy replied as she took his hand and led him to the couch.

THIRTY MINUTES EARLIER

Teddy glanced at her phone as she waited for the garage elevator. There was yet another text message from Fanny.

Fuck,” Teddy groaned as walked off the elevator. The Swedish blonde clad in head to toe Lululemon leaned against the wall outside of their front door. Teddy tried to think of how Fanny even knew the address when she remembered hosting a watch party during the playoffs last season. She cursed her mother for giving her the spirit of hospitality.

Fanny turned around slowly and crossed her arms, “You are a hard person to track down.”

Teddy paused for a moment. Fanny’s tone of voice was aggressive and shrill. She decided to go with a conciliatory tone rather than the snarky tone that felt much more natural.

“I am sorry,” Teddy began to explain as she opened the apartment door, “I was worn out from my speech at the conference. I was all “peopled” out which is why I have been radio silent. What’s up?” She added as much cheer as she could muster to the question.

“I wanted to tell you face to face,” Fanny said with a little too much joy in her voice.

“Tell me what face to face?” Teddy questioned as she placed her suitcase and carry-on by the door. She walked over to the cabinet to get a glass. She filled her glass with ice cold water and turned to face Fanny. She move her hand in a “speed it up” motion.

“Big Rig is cheating on you,” Fanny declared emphatically.

Teddy stood perfectly still but her grip on her glass slightly. It came crashing down onto the kitchen tile. She looked down and then back up at Fanny. “I’m sorry,” she questioned, “What did you say?”

“I said that Big Rig is cheating on you,” Fanny answered.

“With another woman?” Teddy choked out.

“Do you suspect a man?” Fanny asked incredulously.

The very thought of Lex being with a man sent Teddy into a fit of giggles. She tried to imagine his “type” and what his preferred activities might be. She doubled over in laughter, much to Fanny’s chagrin. “I’m sorry,” Teddy replied between laughs, tears streaming down her face. “I don’t know which is funnier,” she continued, “The thought of Lex cheating on me with another woman or the idea of him cheating on me with a man.”

“I am being serious, Teddy,” Fanny exclaimed.

“Oh, I am sure that you are,” Teddy tried to compose herself, “but seriously- Lex cheating?”

Fanny stood upright and crossed her arms, “Do you think I am just fucking with you?” she uttered softly. Her concern almost seemed genuine.

“Okay, I will listen to you,” Teddy conceded, “Why do you think Lex is cheating on me? When exactly was this?”

“It was Halloween night,” the Swede began, “Well, first thing - I smelled a woman’s perfume in his hotel bedroom,”

Teddy’s eyebrow raised, “There is more?”

“You need more?” Fanny countered.

“No, but you said the first thing which implies more,” Teddy replied, “Do you want to respond to each point or wait until the end?”

“Wait until the end I guess,” Fanny said with annoyance.

“So there is the scent and what else?” Teddy prodded.

“Then I heard him make plans on the phone for ‘later’," she continued. Teddy thought of the night in question. She remembered their phone call being interrupted by Fanny needing to use the restroom.

“Go on,” Teddy responded neutrally.

“Then before the movie was even finished, he rushed everyone out of the room,” Fanny continued. “I bet he couldn’t wait to get the little tart into the room.”

Teddy raised an eyebrow, “Tart huh? What are you seventy now?”

Fanny glared but went on, “About an hour later I realized that I left my phone in his room. I went back to get it and it took him FOREVER to answer the door. When he did, it was clear that I had interrupted something.”

“Clear in what way?” Teddy questioned.

“You know,” Fanny whispered as her cheeks flushed.

“Obviously I don’t know which is why I am asking,” Teddy replied even though she had the mental image in her mind.

“First he was covered in sweat and he had,” Fanny looked down and then back up, “He had…..” Teddy willed herself not to laugh when Fanny finally blurted out, “a HARD on”. The picture of one of the many reasons that Oleksiak was called Big Rig flashed before her eyes and the blonde’s heart began to race.

“So he had an erection,” Teddy repeated back. Secretly, she was enjoying watching Fanny squirm even if she was losing patience with the drip-drop method of disclosure Fanny used.

“While I was walking into the bathroom, I saw a green silk nightgown on the couch,” she said with authority. “Big Rig tried to push it under the cushion, but I saw it.” That bit of information got Teddy’s attention and Fanny seized on it.

“Then I went into the bathroom and saw the bottle - sitting right there in the open,” Fanny said breathlessly, “And……” She paused for dramatic effect, “I saw the condom.”

Against her better judgment, Teddy inhaled sharply. It was the first and second bits of information that she didn’t have an obvious explanation for. It wasn’t that she doubted Lex’s fidelity yet, but she was puzzled.

“Is that it?” Teddy finally asked.

“Isn’t that enough?” Fanny challenged.

“I just wanted to be sure that you were done,” Teddy spoke slowly as her mind raced to explain a perfume bottle in Lex’s room. She asked herself if it was possible that one of her bottles may have been inadvertently left in his toiletry bag during a trip. She immediately nixed the thought because she wasn’t missing any perfume. Well, not since her custom-made fragrance from Frankie had gone missing, but that happened before Lex and her had ever traveled together.

Then her mind went to the nightgown. “Think,” she thought to herself, “there is a reasonable answer for this.” Suddenly an idea popped in her head and she grasped onto it. It was a gift. Lex must have gotten her a gift while traveling. She breathed a sigh of relief. She looked up and saw Fanny staring at her with an expression on her face that bordered on smug. Although her mind was racing, there was one thing she was sure of and that was that there was no possible way Lex was cheating on her. It was just about the only fact in her life that she had the utmost confidence in - Lex’s unwavering love and fidelity.

Teddy smiled, “I appreciate your concern, but Lex isn’t cheating on me. I know it for a fact.”

Fanny’s face dropped. This was not the reaction she had envisioned. She scrambled, “Wait, I forgot to tell you. I know what he called the trollop.” Fanny apparently had zoned in all of the synonyms for slut while studying English. Teddy smiled and Fanny continued, “He called her Kitty Kat.”

Teddy smiled again, “I still don’t think he is cheating.”

“But…. but ….. But….. I have proof. I took pictures,” Fanny stuttered.

Teddy stopped in her tracks, “Show them to me.”

Fanny handed over her phone and Teddy studied the pictures. First the condom. Teddy recognized it immediately. She had put it in his Christmas stocking as a joke.

She remembered his loud groan as he pulled it out in front of their families. “Bliss- I am not living that one mistake down, am I?”

“Lex Love, you have made so few mistakes in this relationship compared to me. Let me have this one thing” she smiled mischievously, “Just promise that it doesn’t get used.”

He almost had the inappropriate retort out of his mouth before remembering their audience, “I promise”.

Next was the green nightgown. “Why does that look familiar?” she thought to herself. “I used to have one similar….” she thought, “but I haven’t seen it since the night that Lex went to Pittsburgh.” Her mind reassured her that she must have mentioned the missing nightgown in passing and he bought her one to replace it. There was no way that it could be HER nightgown.

Then she scrolled to the next picture. She audibly gasped and zoomed in. “Is that?” she questioned, “No, it can’t be.” There it was, sitting right next to Lex’s toiletry bag- her custom perfume from France. It wasn’t just any random perfume of some trollop. It was HER perfume. She started laughing. She wasn’t sure if it was from relief that she had proof that all of Fanny’s suspicions about Lex cheating led back to her or relief that she hadn’t actually lost one of the last tangible reminders she had of her sister. Whatever it was, she was filled with joy.

“I am the jezebel,” she said out loud without thinking.

“You are the what?” Fanny asked.

“I am the jezebel,” Teddy repeated and smiled.

“What you talking about?” Fanny exclaimed.

“You heard him on the phone making plans for later than night?” Teddy began her point by point “defense”. “He was talking to me. He was lonely so we made plans for phone sex later that night.” Internally Teddy winced. Lex would be mortified to know that she was speaking so freely about the intimacy, but she was sure that he would be even MORE mortified that people were under the impression that he was being unfaithful.

“Was the scent that you smelled woody and spicy with hints of amber?” Teddy began her next point. Teddy crossed her arms, “That’s my perfume. It is a custom made perfume - the only one like it in the world.” Teddy winced at the small lie. It was close enough to one of a kind for Fanny’s purposes.

“What was next?” Teddy went on. “Oh yeah, the rush to get you out of the room?” Teddy checked off her mental list, “Lex texted an SOS and I obliged with a fake panic attack. It worked like a charm.”

Fanny began to back away from Teddy. No, this was definitely not the way she thought this was going to go.

“Then you very rudely interrupted us because you left your phone like a dumbass,” Teddy stepped toward. She had begun to feel the anger form in the pit of her stomach. She wasn’t sure where it was coming but it fueled her.

“But, but, but…..” Fanny tried to regain the upper hand, “It’s all the tell tale signs of a cheater.”

Teddy stepped up to her, “That may well be true, but you forgot three things.”

“What’s that?” Fanny spouted off.

“One- Lex is not a cheater. It’s not in his DNA,” Teddy said as a matter of fact, “He would break up with me before cheated on me.”

“Two,” she added, “He would have to be a special kind of stupid to cheat on me with my two best friends in the same hotel as well as a gaggle of WAGS apparently watching him like a hawk. Or was that just you?”

Fanny scoffed, “and what is three?”

Teddy laughed, “Well….”

Later, Lex sat on one end of the couch while Teddy sat on the other end. She sat cross legged, her body turned to face him. Lex was covered with sweat and his heart raced as Teddy told him the details of her confrontation. He could not make himself look at his beloved redhead.

“Lex?” she questioned, “Lex, are you hearing me?”

He simply nodded his head up and down.

“Lex Love,” she said softly as she began to crawl towards him, “Lex, look at me.”

“I…. I …..I can’t,” he whispered, “I can’t look at your face after what I’ve done.”

“What have you done?” she whispered back as she reached him. She placed a gentle kiss on his shoulder.

“People think I cheated on you Bliss. They have been gossiping about us,” he whispered.

“Lex Love,” she said more firmly, “Look at me.”

He brought his tear filled eyes to her face. He was expecting to be met with a look of hurt or disappointment, even anger. Instead, she looked at him with eyes sparkling with love.

“Do you think that I believe her? Do you think I believe that you would ever be unfaithful to me?” she pressed her hand to his cheek. “After everything that we have been through, you think I don’t trust you completely?”

“You don’t believe her?” he whispered, praying that he was hearing her words correctly.

“Fuck no, I don’t believe her,” Teddy smiled, “You would never cheat on me.”

“I never would, Bliss,” he placed his large hands on either side of her face and pulled her close so that their foreheads touched. “I would never want another woman. You are the one for me,” he said. His voice was low and filled with relief. “I can’t believe that she actually went to you. I am such an idiot,” he sighed.

“You’re not an idiot,” Teddy kissed him gently, “Remember we are whatever it takes, no matter what.” He grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap. His arms wrapped around her and squeezed her tight. She could feel the slight tremble as he held her. She nuzzled her face into his neck and soothed, “Lex Love, it’s okay. It’s okay. I am not going anywhere, but I do have questions.”

“Give me a minute,” he sighed.

“Take all the time you need,” she murmured as she pressed her lips into his neck. They sat together for a few minutes before he gave her the signal that he was ready. She sat up straight and rubbed her thumb across his forehead.

“So is that my green nightgown she saw in your room?” she questioned as she looked into his eyes. He nodded affirmatively. “Did you take it from my apartment before you left for PIttsburgh?” she asked.

Lex leaned his head back and gathered up the courage. “Not deliberately, but I was happy when I found it shoved in my bag. The scarf had lost its Bliss scent so I was happy to have a replacement.

“The scarf?” Teddy replied in surprise, “My scarf? The blue one?”

He blushed, “Yes, that was my first acquisition. It was an accident- I swear. Both of them were accidents.”

“And you acquired these things why?” she prodded.

“They smelled like you.” he choked out, “They smelled like you and if I had them, I could smell you on the road.”

“You wanted to smell me?” her brows furrowed together, “Why?”

“I kept the things so I could smell you and not miss you,” he looked down.

Teddy lifted his face with her finger so that she could look him in the eye. “You missed me? Even way back then?” she questioned, “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why didn’t I tell you that I kept your things like some sort of freak with a scent fetish?,” he smiled tentatively, “Why didn’t I tell you that I was crazy about you even then?

Then his face fell again. “I was so crazy that I stole your perfume. I stole your Frankie perfume,” He looked up to judge her reaction. Her face was calm and serene. “I swear I didn’t know that it was your Frankie perfume then. I would have never taken it.” He sighed, “I wouldn’t have taken it if I knew it was your last thing from Frankie.”

“Well, it’s a good thing that it’s not actually lost then, eh?” Teddy laughed as she exaggerated the eh for his benefit.

“You are not mad?” he asked in surprise.

“When did you find out about all of the Fanny shenanigans?” Teddy asked, suddenly serious.

“Ummmm, yesterday - after the game,” Lex answered without thinking.

“What I am not thrilled with is that you knew something was going on last night and chose not to tell me, “she started. He went to interject but she held up a finger to stop him. “I don’t want to make it a bigger deal than it is because we got lucky. Fanny caught me on a good anxiety day where I could think clearly. This could have gone south really quickly and that would have sucked.” She stared into his eyes for a moment. “No matter what, whatever it takes includes the sucky conversations or what you THINK will be the sucky conversations.”

“I thought you would be upset,” he said finally.

“Then let me be upset rather than ambushed in my own apartment,” she countered.

He nodded in understanding. “Bliss, I am really sorry,” he pleaded, “I just didn’t know how to tell you after Seggy told me about the perfume.”

“Tyler knew about the perfume?” Teddy gasped, “For how long?”

“I don’t know- a couple of weeks,” Lex answered.

“Did he know about Fannygate?” Teddy asked.

Lex nodded his head in affirmation. “For the record, he told me to come clean to you. I didn’t listen and it turns out that he was right,” Lex explained, “Dammnit, don’t tell him that he was right. He will never let me live it down.”

“So what lessons we have learned from this?” Teddy questioned.

Lex sighed, “To have the hard conversations.”

Teddy leaned forward and kissed his neck, “and what else?”

“Fanny is a busybody,” he smiled.

“And what else?” she spread her legs and straddled his massive thighs.

“I don’t know. Tell me,” he murmured, “I am a little distracted.”

“Tyler is still a really good friend to you and you give him too much grief,” she resumed her nibbling on his neck.

“True,” he moaned softly, “Anything else.”

“Yes, ask next time you need something instead of taking it. I would have given you my other perfume. You know, the cheaper one,” she remarked.

“Yeah, but that’s not the special perfume,” he said as his hands grabbed her ass and pulled her into him.

“Special perfume?” she asked,

“Yes, the one that you wore when we first kissed,” he kissed languidly. “You also wore the first night that we…….”

“Fucked?” she finished for him, “Lex, you may be the sweetest man to ever exist.”

“You are really not mad?” he lifted her off the couch and started carrying her to the bedroom

“No, I am not mad,” she kissed him passionately. “Now, my dad on the other hand,” she grinned, “He is going to want to have a word with you when I tell him about the wild goose chase you sent him on.”

“Please don’t,” he pleaded with her as he set her on the bed and climbed on top of her body.

“I think I could be convinced to keep your secret,” she moaned, “If given the proper motivation.”

“All my love and devotion?” he grinned as he pushed her top and his mouth made contact her nipple.

“Do that thing with your mouth too,” she purred, “I’ll take that along with your lover and devotion.”

“You got it, Bliss….. You got it.”

#journey to emerald city #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fiction #nhl smut #jamie oleksiak fic #jamie oleksiak x oc #seattle kraken fic #hockey romance

[mylordshesacactus]

There was a very sweet moment today that really highlighted how, for all that she is fully a dingus whose first plan is “hit it with a spiky ball on a chain” and whose second plan is “hit it again but this time set the spiky ball on fire first”, at the end of the day, Andromeda is a paladin of the god of light.

The party has just learned--and I’ll do a writeup of the vision they received later--that for the past fifty years there’s been protective magical barrier over their kingdom that keeps the fae from entering. But as the Bastion of Life grows older and weaker, he can’t maintain the barrier as strongly as he once could, and the “bubble” has been slowly shrinking--drawing ever inward, the line in the sand forced back by inches every day.

Soon, the wavering barrier will snap inward more dramatically--and the city of Suncrest will be left outside of it entirely. Exposed and helpless to the invasion from the Faewild that has been mustering for fifty years.

They have three to six weeks, assuming nothing else happens.

They are understandably freaked out by this information, as well as by the fact that from all indications, they are the only ones who have ever accessed this chamber and triggered the mechanism--in half a century, no other group of adventurers has made it all this way, and very few have even tried.

Nimbus: (our Ranger) I don’t like that! I don’t like the idea that we’re the best Suncrest has to offer and I really don’t like that somehow, apparently, our ragtag bunch of fucking...amateurs, misfits, is apparently the best there is, like--that means there’s nobody who might be, I don’t know, more powerful, or more competent or something, that might actually be able to help!

Andromeda: I don’t know. I think that’s reassuring, that nobody else has triggered it.

Nim: How so?

Andromeda: Well, that means nobody better than us has ever tried to save the world and failed. So that means we have a chance!

It was a very funny observation, but it was also very sincere, and had a genuinely encouraging effect on the party.

Sometimes we all need a dumb-of-ass bird paladin to remind us that the only way to find out if you’re good enough to save the world is if you assume you are, and try.

#d&d

[thegeminisage]

for posterity (and so i can close the tab), i'm posting screenshots of the private skip/watch list i made for friends only - since i was too big of a dummy and didn't liveblog my initial tos watchthrough, to my ETERNAL FUCKING WOE, this is as close as i'm ever getting. sad! DISCLAIMER that i disagree with my past self on some of the skip/watch verdicts so please use the official spreadsheet (still a wip) as a guide if you're looking for that kind of thing.

of note from this first screencap: dagger of the mind, which i continue to feel normal about for no particular reason and definitely not relating to a movie with a brainwashing chair that came out in 2014. the corbomite manuever, which i dismissed at first and then came around to liking better later because of the little character moments. conscience of the king, which was actually the first trek episode i ever watched before i went back and did them all in official order (mistake, production order is better) and which of course got me into this mess. squire of gothos, which has this scene that inspired this fanfic. don't text.

it's also worth mentioning that i had to watch not one not two but THREE bad to mid episodes before i hit naked time and enemy within and then they put me right back in it with mudd's women. if i hadn't already seen conscience of the king and knew what was up i would have fucking quit. and that's why production order is superior

of note for this batch: the city on the edge of forever, in which a lot of important stuff happened, but also spock wore a little hat. catspaw, which is the first time i had an inkling of the idea that would later spawn this powerpoint (this is what "giving john crichton" means ifykyk). mirror mirror, which i didn't get until like a week later and then went insane over. metamorphosis, which made me so frothing mad it's unreal.

of note here: the immunity syndrome, which i have rewatched 60000 times for the spones. return to tomorrow, during which my eyes were dinnerplates start to finish. by any other name, which truly had so much going on including what i know in my heart was a tarsus iv reference. bread and circuses, which did indeed make me blush when bones pushed spock against the wall and spock went "really doctor?" i still can't think about it.

of note: the enterprise incident, which again caused mental illness related to the previously linked powerpoint. the paradise syndrome, which was the only amnesia episode, the first time kirk and spock mindmelded on screen, and so utterly fucking racist that all of that stuff was absolutely ruined beyond belief; i instantly moved to a google doc and to write down my mind palace version that doesn't involve All Of That. the one-two punch of the world is hollow + the empath, which made me a bones understander. the tholian web, which made me bonkers because i love a good fake death. plato's stepchildren, sections of which i had to watch through my fingers.

finally, of note for this batch: whom gods destroy, which unexpectedly brought back the brainwashing chair and excited me so much i had to pause the episode to collect myself. that which survives, bc the looney toons sfx made me scream laugh. requiem for methuselah, which genuinely induced a november 5th-like mania i didn't think i'd ever feel again. all our yesterdays, which was the worst i'd EVER felt for a space babe. and finally, turnabout intruder, which introduced "it's better to be DEAD than to be in the body of [x]" into my own personal lexicon.

ok that's everything! we have nine episodes left of tos to go back and watch before we move onto tng, but i know in my heart that tos will always be my favorite. i'll miss you tos :(

#personal #star trek blogging #tos lb

[sparring-hyena]

winter.

in which weather can be profound and personal growth is messy.

OR, my own imagining of post-book 2.

-

-

they find each other later. much later. weeks and months later, really, during winter break. although, Poppy guesses, it’s not really winter break if they’ve both graduated and left their days at Belvoire behind them. it’s just winter.

so it’s winter when they find each other, somewhere in that awkward week between Christmas and the new year that doesn’t even feel like a real point in time. there’s snow and belated family gatherings and nights spent alone as a forecasted blizzard rips through the city.

it’s an odd kind of loneliness that settles in Poppy’s chest during that week, like she’s missing something so small yet so important and can’t quite identify what it is. but she pushes on. puts on a smile and pretends it’s all fine as she sits through a belated Christmas dinner with her parents.

and then, only when she finally manages to escape her parents’ brownstone just before midnight, when she steals a few quiet moments for herself in the candy aisle of the bodega that she felt compelled to step into, does she find AJ.

“fancy meeting you here.” the voice is familiar and pokes at those silly little words that have been rattling around her mind for months.

it’s always been you.

she bristles, pretends it’s unresolved hate that makes her react that way, and turns around to face the voice. “AJ.” clipped. neutral. good, no way she’s going to lose to AJ Hughes in the candy aisle of a bodega.

“just can’t seem to stay away from me, huh?”

“i could live a very peaceful life if i never had to see you again.” it feels like a lie coming off her tongue, and that gaping thing in her chest screams and begs her to take it back.

AJ clutches her chest and makes like she’s been hurt, but she smiles through it all and Poppy never wants to think about why she hasn’t stopped thinking about AJ’s stupid smile since graduation. and that stupid declaration. and that god-awful kiss that had left her shocked and speechless and her lips tingling with fiery— whatever.

“doing anything right now?” AJ asks.

“walking away from you.” and Poppy proves her point by turning on her heels and walking down the aisle. she holds her breath firm in her chest as she walks, and only releases it when she hears AJ follow after her.

“first of all,” AJ starts as she falls in step with Poppy, “i know you wanted me to follow you. and second of all” —she stops in front of Poppy, forcing them to stand face-to-face— “wanna grab a drink?”

-

so she grabs a drink with AJ. so what? no biggie.

except one drink turns into two, turns into three, turns into making out outside the bar, which, naturally, turns into fucking in AJ’s kitchen because they couldn’t make it to the bed.

no biggie.

-

Poppy braces herself for the cold and flees AJ’s apartment early in the morning.

she decides that that was the last time. no more running into AJ. no more grabbing a drink because what’s one drink between old university friends? because they aren’t friends, weren’t ever really friends. no, they toed the line between enemies and two people with a complicated arrangement who can’t seem to do one thing right even now!

so that’s the end. for the best, Poppy thinks to herself as she wraps her coat tighter around her body as the wind slices at her skin.

and she feels... okay about that decision. she knows, logically, that not seeing AJ again is for the best. but she also knows, less logically, that her bed is much too large, much too cold when she crawls into it that night.

-

she loses track of the days. gets lost in a dreadfully dull cycle—wake, eat, phone, shower, sleep, repeat. she keeps tabs on all her old friends through their socials, and starts to wonder if they were ever actually friends.

has she ever actually had a real friend?

she likes Chloe’s latest post—a photo of her on vacation in the Swiss alps—and then turns her phone off.

then those four silly words echo in Poppy’s head again.

a lie, she told herself as soon as AJ had breathed them into existence. and it had worked for a while, had tamped down the hope she allowed herself to feel bloom in her chest for just one moment, because she’ll never let herself hope again.

a game just like everything else, she tells herself now as she watches the snow fall from the dark sky.

and then before she knows what’s happening, Poppy’s off her couch and out the door as those four stupid, awful, annoying words chant in her mind.

she had made a note of AJ’s address when she left a few mornings ago. only so she could stay away and make good on that decision to never see her again. so it’s no trouble getting to AJ’s building—modest and nothing particularly exciting.

homey, huh? AJ had said with an air of insecurity as they’d stumbled inside a few nights ago and Poppy had paused their make-out to judge and look and absorb AJ’s new home.

she doesn’t know what to do now that she’s met with the reality of her late night decision. leaving would be wise, she knows, but she just can’t seem to get her legs to carry her away.

she slips inside the building behind someone else who’s too lost in their phone to notice Poppy, and rides the elevator up to AJ’s floor.

she knocks on AJ’s door, softly in the hope that maybe AJ won’t hear it and she can leave unnoticed and pretend this never happened. but then there are footsteps getting closer and Poppy’s heart beat drums in her ears and then the door opens.

“what’re you doing here?” AJ asks, her voice firm and eyes hard.

clearly a mistake coming here, Poppy decides and suddenly she wants nothing more than to be at home curled in her too large and too cold bed.

“i don’t know,” Poppy admits.

AJ nods, glances back over her shoulder into her apartment, and Poppy immediately thinks she’s interrupted something important.

“did you mean it?” Poppy quickly asks before AJ has a chance to tell her to leave.

“mean what?”

“what you said at graduation?”

AJ’s head quirks to the side, clearly trying to remember.

or maybe she does remember and she’s just trying to give you an out. trying to let you down easy.

but the words thrum through her veins and she needs an answer now if she ever wants to be able to carry on with life.

“when you said ‘it’s always been you’ did you mean it?”

AJ continues to stare and for the first time ever, Poppy can’t read it. or maybe doesn’t want to be able to read it for fear of what it will mean.

“did we actually hate each other?” Poppy now asks, desperate to just get some answers and keep AJ in front of her.

“do you think we did?”

“i don’t know.”

AJ nods and clicks her tongue. “maybe you should figure that out before you come knocking on people’s doors at midnight.”

AJ moves to close the door but Poppy’s quick to stop it. “no, no, wait. please.”

maybe she hears something in Poppy’s voice, because AJ pauses, waits.

“i know we didn’t hate each other. i know that. but i just… i wanted to hate you. i wanted to hate you so much and i don’t know why i couldn’t just hate you because your were everything i despised. maybe you know why because you always seemed like you knew something that i didn’t.”

AJ doesn’t say anything right away, and Poppy, for a moment, thinks she’s finally gone too far. that after everything she’s put AJ through, this midnight-doorstep-declaration will be what costs Poppy having AJ in her life. and then—

“i used to think you hated me, way back when we first met. i didn’t care, of course. i never hated you, even then, but i didn’t like you much. but i quickly learnt to see through everything you were throwing at me. i think you subconsciously knew that you needed me because i was so different from everyone you’d met before, i was challenging.”

“you weren’t challenging.”

AJ quirks her head to the side a playful smile pulls her lips up.

“maybe a little bit,” Poppy admits, and admitting something to AJ doesn’t bother her and she realises that it maybe never did. “but it was nice.”

“yeah, i thought so too. we were so different in a few ways and so alike in others. i think that’s why we worked… why we probably needed each other.”

Poppy sits with that for a moment, and thinks that AJ might have a point.

“my bed’s too big,” Poppy says, and she doesn’t know why she decides to admit that. “i just— i think i’m lonely and i think i miss you.”

“you think or you know?”

“i miss you and i need you and i wish i’d done things differently.”

AJ just stares for a moment and then: “a friend of mine is having a party for the new year tomorrow night, you should come with me.”

“really?”

“yeah, really. i think you’d have a nice time if you came and i know i would enjoy it more.”

Poppy’s cheeks turn a little red. “okay, yeah, i’ll come.”

and then they stand awkwardly at AJ’s front door, unsure of what to do next but desperate to not let this moment fade. AJ steps aside a moment later; an invitation, silent in its declaration but loud in the space between them.

Poppy smiles and steps close to AJ. she cups her cheek and says, “Thank you,” before moving inside.

#my writing #poppy min-sinclair #poppy x mc #playchoices #queen b

[starlit-hopes-and-dreams]

Chapter 3 ~ Running out of air

Hidden Depths

Previous ~ Masterlist ~ Next

Genre: Fantasy whump

Written per Whumptober 2022 prompts

CW's: captivity, mention of depression of a family member, nudity (non-sexual), stabbing, blood, strangling, implied whump of a minor (character isn't really a minor, but they don't know that 😅)

WC: 3267 3295

AN: Well, I'm falling behind lol. Which means I finished/edited/posted this today. Woo!

Resh

Hands folded on his stomach, Resh lay on a tiny cot in an even tinier room, trying not to move. To distract himself, he started counting the red bricks lining the walls of his cell. No wait, he wanted to count the knots in the beams of wood supporting the ceiling this morning. It was an intensely fascinating endeavor, especially since he seemed to come up with a different number every time he counted.

As much of a joy as it was to lie on his shredded back, it was even more fun trying to lie on his side. Why couldn't he have broken limbs on the same side of his body, for fuck's sake? And forget trying to lie on his stomach—it was next to impossible to get up from the cot when he did. That was a mistake he wouldn't be making again.

Resh also tried not to breathe too deeply. For one, it smelled fucking weird in this underground complex. Musty, stale air barely circulated down here, because when the prince had used his innate elemental ability to carve the space out, he either hadn't had the brains to include adequate ventilation, or he just hadn't cared.

Secondly, his ribs fucking ached. The godsdamn guard fetching the prisoners from their cells had the patience of an amnesiac squirrel trying to find the food it'd buried. When Resh hadn't been able to get off the cot—lying on his stomach was to blame, of course—the guard had 'helped' by pulling him off and then kicking him for good measure. 

Because adding yet another injury to the mix made it so much easier to get up in a timely manner. Resh made a rude gesture towards the row of metal bars that served as his door.

Lesson learned. Painfully, but learned nonetheless. Now he used lifesense to watch for the guard coming down the hall, so he could take his time maneuvering his splinted limbs off the cot. 

It had been a long week, but hey, at least Marcus hadn't been here. Apparently, he'd taken a trip back to the city. Resh hoped the prince got drunk, took a wrong turn in the city streets, and ended up beaten and left for dead in one of the poorer sections. Bonus points if someone got feisty and stabbed him a few times for good measure.

If only. Resh scratched at his neck, which felt swollen and a little hot. He didn't know what Marcus had done with this godsdamned thorn collar, but no matter how hard Resh tried, he couldn't get it off, and now it was irritated as fuck. But Mother, did it ever itch.

His sister could've removed it for him. Orla had elemental earth, and while hers wasn't as strong as a royal's ability, she could manipulate earth and plants and some of the more porous stones. 

Blinking rapidly, Resh took a few slow, not quite deep enough breaths. As a servant at the manor, he had been given one day off a week, which he used to make the three-hour walk back to the city to check on his sister. And his mother, he supposed—not that she cared much. Now that Orla had her medicine and didn't need as much help, his mother had sunk back into her despondency. Resh supposed he should be grateful she had risen from it to help care for Orla at all.

Still, Orla was only twelve. She wouldn't understand why Resh hadn't made it home today to see her. If the cheap boarding house the Crown was allowing his family to stay in could be considered home. But it was better than where they had been living after his father died, when they could no longer afford the upkeep of the townhome in the merchant's quarter of the city. 

Most of all, Resh hated that his sister was alone. He forgot himself for a moment and clenched his hand into a fist, his right one, which sent shooting pains through his arm. Fucking pits.

A new golden light appeared in his mind's eye at the end of the hall, one that was moving instead of the stationary lights of the other prisoners in their cells. Resh stopped massaging the pins and needles from his swollen fingers and began the painstaking process of getting up. Once sitting, he positioned the ratty piece of cloth used to support his right arm around his neck and found the staff he'd been given to help keep the weight off his left leg.

The morning passed as usual. Gray, lumpy, lukewarm oatmeal served with the weakest tea Resh had ever had the pleasure of drinking in the dining hall. It was a treat carrying his food to a table, considering his good arm had to hold onto his staff. Afterward, he endured the jostling, the elbows, and the occasional outright assault while they were ushered to the common room to receive their assignments for the day.

Although room sizes varied, they all looked the same. Red bricks lined the walls, curving into a domed ceiling spanned by wooden beams. The floor on this level was just plain dirt, although it was packed so hard it was hardly distinguishable from stone. 

Especially when one met the floor in a violent fashion—a flurry of motion across the room caught Resh’s attention. A large man with a potbelly that Resh knew had menaced the poorer sections of the city shoved one of the few women in the center out of his way. She fell hard, head cracking audibly against the floor. 

Resh winced but was reassured when she curled into a ball, probably praying Potbelly didn't decide to take further offense and kick the shit out of her before the guards intervened.

This was the Reconditioning Center, where the crown prince magnanimously oversaw the rehabilitation of repeat offenders and lowlifes not awful enough to be executed outright. Resh had traded away two years of his life, promising to serve as the prince’s personal assistant in exchange for the medicine his sister needed. 

Now, he’d won the ultimate prize of becoming a prisoner instead of a member of the staff. It would probably be the highlight of his life. If he survived his time here, of course.

"Check in with Mieste," the guard at the entrance of the common room instructed.

Fighting the urge to roll his eyes, Resh hobbled his way over to the corner the herbalist occupied for his daily wound clinic. It was a busy wound clinic and always had been, even before Resh had needed to stand its line.

You never knew what kind of… enticement to behave Marcus would order or, even better, deliver himself. The variety of pain was endless. Resh had witnessed it.

Now he knew firsthand. He traced the scabbed-over slice on his cheek, suppressing a shudder. He'd woken in a cold sweat every night over the last week, convinced his eye had actually been carved out. 

"Move along, Josian," Mieste ordered the man in front of Resh.

The herbalist rinsed his hands in a bowl of water, then wiped them dry on his black shirt. Resh wasn't too sure that was the most sanitary of hand-drying options. Every medical person Resh had ever seen wore black to hide stains from the various bodily fluids of their patients. But who was he to say?

"Can't I have one of the elixirs?" Josian whined, his voice unusually nasally.

Resh really hoped Josian was enjoying his broken nose.

"You should know by now that pain relief is something earned," Mieste said, glaring over the rim of his glasses.

The back of Josian's gray uniform was spotted with blood from a recent whipping. Resh almost felt bad for him as the man sniffed and walked away.

Almost.

Except Josian had earned that whipping for attacking Resh a couple days ago. Resh could still barely see out of his left eye, but at least he had been able to fight back a little this time.

He couldn't even blame Josian. Resh had strapped him down a few weeks ago for Marcus to play with, after all. The man had a raised red scar running from the right side of his forehead through the bridge of his nose to prove it, along with some others hiding under his uniform. He winced at the memory of that session. Josian wasn't very friendly, to say the least.

"Resh, take off your clothes and have a seat." Mieste directed him to a rickety-looking stool, then turned back to his table, pulling out an assortment of jars, vials, and bandages.

Take off his clothes? Resh couldn't imagine why he'd need to take off all of his clothes. Based on the supplies Mieste was pulling out, it appeared he was going to change his bandages, but surely he could keep his pants for that. 

Gingerly, Resh sat on the stool, praying the flimsy thing wouldn't collapse as it creaked under his weight. He wasn't even that big, so he couldn't imagine how any of the larger men managed to sit on this thing.

There was nowhere to put his staff, so he let it drop to the ground and then began removing his shirt, wrinkling his nose as he did. He hadn't been provided with a new uniform since he'd been… relocated, and his ability to wash was a little hampered by the bandages wrapped around his torso, not to mention his splinted limbs. Cheeks heating, he folded the shirt across his lap and waited for Mieste to finish up.

When the herbalist turned around, the lines on his face deepened dramatically as he scowled. "Was I not clear enough? Take off those filthy clothes. You get a new uniform today with your bandage change."

Resh's eyes darted around the room, from the other prisoners milling about waiting for their work assignments to the people still waiting in line to be looked over. "Here?" he asked, desperately hoping otherwise.

Mieste raised his eyebrows. "Where else? Do you think this place gives a shit about your modesty?" Shoving back his thinning gray hair, Mieste crossed his arms over his chest and harrumphed.

While Resh would've loved to pretend he didn't give a shit, he was pretty sure the heat creeping down his neck was giving him away. He cleared his throat and awkwardly pulled his pants off. Resh held his clothes in his lap as he sat back down, studiously refusing to look at anyone. He couldn't hear those snickers from the ones in line who'd heard that exchange, either. Nope.

Mieste checked Resh's arm and leg, changing the wrappings holding the splints in place. Resh tried not to move too much while Mieste did so; it would be just his luck to get a splinter in his bare ass.

The bandages around Resh's torso were not replaced. Something something about the wounds needing air. Resh didn't care; he was just happy he could wash a little better now. His cheek, neck, wrists, and calf had all scabbed over and no longer needed medical attention. Mieste clucked his tongue at the state of Resh's irritated throat, smeared some salve around the thorn collar, and sternly told him to leave it alone.

Easier said than done. Resh would like to see how Mieste reacted to having thorns digging into his throat for a week straight. They fucking burned, and the itching was driving him mad. Thankfully, the salve cooled his irritated skin, dampening the itch for now.

He was beyond grateful to pull on his clean uniform when Mieste finished, not even caring that the rough fibers caught on the healing wounds on his back. He moved away from Mieste's corner. Passing by the entrance to the room, on his way to receive his work assignment for the day, he heard a raised voice echoing down the hall.

"Getcha hands offa me, you fuckin creeps! I know how'ta walk, for fuck's sake.” 

A truly concerning noise, sounding like some kind of wild animal caught in a trap and utterly pissed about it, emerged from the tunnel. 

“Gods! I said lemme go, you dumbfucks. You even listenin t’ me, or are you deaf as well as shitbrained?"

Eyes widening, Resh stopped and turned toward the entrance. The voice had a higher pitch than anyone currently residing here, so it seemed they were getting a new prisoner. His heart sank—that probably meant Marcus was back.

Two guards emerged from the hall, half-carrying a… wait, was that a kid? Marcus followed behind them, looking highly irritated, and wasn't that a great sign. Resh began to sidle backward, trying not to draw attention to himself. Why did he have to be so close to the entrance right now?

The guards released the kid, who ran inside. The kid didn’t go far, though, turning on their heel right in front of Resh, godsdamnit, to spit more curses at the guards. And at Marcus, who pushed past the guards with a thunderous expression.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Resh tried to back up faster, but it was a little hard to back up when you had a broken leg. It was much easier to go forwards. He was a little confused why a kid would be sentenced to this godsforsaken place, but he sure as fuck wished they would stop throwing such a fit, and so close to him at that.

Since Resh had such a close view, he supposed maybe the kid wasn't exactly a kid, although it was hard to tell their age or gender. They had the kind of delicate features that could go either way and that bespoke youth for a long time. They were at least a head shorter than him, which was saying something since Resh wasn’t all that tall himself. The kid was thin, too thin, with short reddish-blond hair that looked as if it had been hacked off with a knife. So, probably a kid off the streets, then.

Marcus' eyes flicked over to Resh, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly before he returned his attention to the kid. Resh grimaced, moving back one more step to be sure he was out of the way, and then stood still. Marcus had noticed him, so it wouldn't do him any good to try and vanish now.

The kid darted away as Marcus advanced. "I don't belong in your perverted hole of horrors," they hissed. "Bring me back."

Marcus sighed heavily, turning to Resh. "Carr is here for stealing, caught multiple times by multiple people. Resh, you can tell him how it goes here since you know how it works both ways now. You were on the street for a bit, perhaps you can teach him some manners while you're at it."

Not for the first time, Resh hated that he'd had to relate his godsdamned life story during his petition to the Crown. The prince knew entirely too much about Resh's life for him to be comfortable with.

The kid turned, shooting a baleful hazel glare Resh's way.

Great, that was just fucking great. It looked like even the newbies were going to be informed that Resh had been on the other side of this arrangement. Resh nodded anyway, because what else could he do?

Marcus' eyes darkened, and Resh knew he'd made a mistake. He opened his mouth, suddenly remembering that Marcus liked verbal responses, but nothing came out as the thorn collar around his throat tightened, choking him. Resh's left hand shot up, scrabbling at the branch, his breath wheezing in and out while the thorns dug deeper into his skin.

"Yes, my lord," Resh forced the words from his constricted throat, hoping it wasn't too late. Tears sprang to Resh's eyes when Marcus stepped closer, interest lighting his eyes as he watched Resh gasp for breath.

"Oh, Resh," Marcus said. "I see you haven't learned your lesson yet. Perhaps this will serve as a lesson for your new friend here as well." Marcus turned to the guards who had walked in with him. "Bring him."

Resh's eyes darted around the room while he tried to get some purchase on the collar, slip a finger underneath, something. His efforts were rewarded with splinters of bark painfully shoving up under his fingernails, but he couldn't stop trying. 

Everyone still in the room was staring, watching the spectacle. The guards moved towards the kid, whose wide eyes were panicked as his gaze flicked from Resh to Marcus, then back to the approaching guards.

Couldn't the kid see nothing good came of defiance in this place? Resh would've tried to shake his head in warning or something, but his vision was spotting, too little air getting in, and it was all he could do to focus on breathing.

Resh sank to his knees at the same time the kid moved, his speed astonishing to even Resh's air-deprived brain.

Carr's small hands wrapped around the handle of the dagger Marcus wore strapped to his belt, tore it free from the sheath.

"What the—" Marcus shouted, grabbing for the kid, who ducked away, slashing with the blade. He reared back, a line of red appearing across his ribs beneath the sliced open fabric of his cream tunic.

The kid wasted no time. Taking advantage of Marcus' shock, he dashed in, slammed the dagger into Marcus' thigh, then ran. Marcus looked down at the handle protruding from his leg, then slowly back up, his head turning to follow the kid's progress.

The collar around Resh's neck loosened, and he eagerly sucked in air. His attention was drawn to the bloodstain spreading on Marcus' pantleg, but he wrenched his eyes up to see what was happening. Resh had never heard of someone attacking the prince before. He was a little scared this would be the last time he saw the kid alive.

Carr dodged the guards and ran straight for the entrance, obviously trying to escape, although Resh couldn't imagine how the kid thought he would get away. 

Sure enough, Marcus moved his hand, and the ground beneath the kid softened, causing him to stumble, then sink into the earth. Carr's face turned red as he struggled to get free, but the earth hardened around him, leaving only his head and shoulders above ground.

"Gag him," Marcus ordered as Carr started screaming obscenities. "I'll deal with him in a bit."

Resh gasped as the collar tightened around his neck once more. Why? Fuck, what had he done?

Marcus knelt in front of Resh, seemingly unconcerned about the fucking dagger sticking out of his thigh. "Now see, this wouldn't have happened if you had just answered me appropriately in the first place." He plucked Resh's hand away from the collar, then tucked a stray piece of hair behind Resh's ear, uncovering his face.

Resh reached out to the prince instead, silently begging him to stop. At the same time, his mind grappled with stupid questions like: Did the prince have no pain receptors? How could he not care that he'd been sliced open and stabbed? Why was the prince doing this? Why?

Please, Resh mouthed to the prince. Please, stop.

Marcus took Resh's offered hand, patting it gently. "What's that?" The prince tilted his head. "It seems I can't hear you."

Tears fell down Resh's face, his chest heaving with the need to breathe. Please. Surely Marcus knew the shape of that word by now. Please.

Marcus just smiled as Resh continued to plead soundlessly.

Please. It was doing Resh no good, but he kept saying it, even while he slumped to the floor, his vision tunneling.

Please. The thorns hurt. 

Please. His chest hurt.

Then darkness closed in, and nothing hurt at all.

Next

Image Description

[ID: The banner is a blue-green background, with tree branches arching over a set of blue-green eyes, forming an approximation of a face. The words Hidden Depths are written in white above the eyes. end ID]

#whumptober2022 #no.3 #no.5 #hair's breadth from death #impaled #every whumpee's needs #running out of air #OC #writing #captivity #whump of a minor #strangulation #nudity non-sexual #stabbing #blood #fantasy whump #whump writing #whump #whumpblr #hidden depths

[softquietsteadylove]

Hey big fan of your works! You have an amazing talent and your prompts are very well written! Keep up the good work and thank u so much for all of them <3

I am loving this mob rival bosses prompt, it is so sexy. So how about this idea in the tyrant king/ice queen AU where Thena is being ambushed/attacked by a group in a party and Gil is fighting to protect her and getting hurt so she is caring his wounds afterwards?

Would also be an amazing idea for the Zombie AU. Let Gil use his muscles! xD

The Tyrant King had barely left the Ice Queen's side. Not since she was first poisoned, and not since being released, either. Those in the business knew better than to ask. They knew what the Ice Queen had gone through, and some of them knew that the Tyrant King was - and maybe had always been - protective of her.

So, it wasn't so strange to see them with each other, even when not actively conducting business. She ate in Koreatown often, and he was often found in the office of the Ice Queen, seemingly just...waiting for her.

It made them very recognisable targets.

"Try this."

Thena kept her smile small as she leaned for a bite of his tteokbokki, holding her hair back as she did.

Gilgamesh chuckled, seeming not to have a care in the world as they strolled the open market. "Well?"

"Mm," Thena nodded as she chewed her modest bite.

"That's it?" he snorted, resuming their walk with her hand on his elbow. "This is the best tteokbokki in the city."

"I've had better," Thena countered, even as he offered her another bite.

"What?" Gil scoffed, finishing off the last two for himself. He raised a brow at her, delighted when she returned it with a flirty little brow raise of her own. "Whose?"

"Yours."

The Tyrant King leaned his head closer to her, his lips brushing against the diamond studded cuff on her ear. "If you want me to abide by this rule of yours, you can't say stuff like that."

The Ice Queen turned her head, her lips one small breath away from his. "As if you've obeyed it thus far."

"I haven't kissed you outside yet, have I?"

"Gil!"

He wrapped his arms around her as she pushed him, both of them tumbling out of the main alley of the market and into the nearest wall. But he could hear the shots hitting the next few stalls. He tightened his arms around her. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she promised him, hand already on the knife at her thigh. But she had also only been released about three weeks ago. She wasn't in the condition to fend off a proper ambush. "Who is it this time?"

"I don't know," he whispered against her temple, pressing a kiss to her flawlessly blonde hair. "But I'm gonna find out."

"Gil!"

Gilgamesh picked up the nearest crate full of produce and hurled it into the fray. He cocked his fists, taking out the first two as nothing more than a warmup. He didn't know how many there were, but it didn't much matter to him at the moment.

They weren't coming anywhere near Thena.

The next three came out, lingering behind the cloud cover of all the destruction. Gil kept his fists up, dodging knives as needed and disarming as he went. He threw a few, only managing to knock a few firearms out of hands rather than making a clean hit.

Thena had only started teaching him to throw knives recently.

Gil grunted as three of them grabbed him by the back, one around each arm and one on his shoulders. "Fuck!"

"Don't move!"

Gil obeyed, freezing with his captors draped over him. He heard the distinct sound of metal and bone and soon his burden dropped to the ground. She had killer aim, his Ice Queen. He turned to her, still leaning against the wall, "thanks, Naekkeo!"

"Gil, behind you!"

Shit. Gil hissed as the knife sliced through his side. He turned, gripping his attacker's head and twisting with all the torque he had in his arms. "Shit."

"Three more!"

Gil chuckled, raising his fists again. He was lucky she was on his side. Three more men did come at him, but they were empty handed. Whomever had sent them didn't really intend on doing much if any real damage, it seemed. Or they didn't really have the resources for it. Nor the experience not to send them in the middle of the damn day.

The last one went down, a knife flying at him from the side and lodging in his thigh.

Gilgamesh looked around him in the remains of the alley market. The citizens had long ago fled, and the assailants were all taken care of in some form or another. He huffed, tugging at his shirt and jacket. He would have to have some of his boys clean the place up before any real police started sniffing around.

"Gil," Thena reached for him, grasping the lapel of his jacket. She pulled it, examining the blood on his shirt. "You're hurt."

"Ah, it's-" he paused, catching the look on his Ice Queen's face. He cleared his throat, shutting up rather than argue with her. He tugged at his sleeves. "Come on, let's get you somewhere safe."

"Let's get you sewn up, you mean," she growled at him, pulling him to her own driving escort parked just down the street. Close enough for an escape but not so close for their 'meeting' to be spied on. She opened her own door and practically threw him into the back of the limo.

"Geez," he grumbled as he sat himself up and she climbed in next to him. "Y'know, baby, I think your bedside manner might be a little lacking."

"Shut up," she glared at him as she closed the door behind her. "They'll take us back to my office. In the meantime, let me see."

Gilgamesh obeyed, wincing as he pulled his shirt up. "Thena, really, I don't think it's that bad."

"You'll have to call up the little heiress," Thena mumbled back as she examined the depth and length of the cut in question.

"You think this was her?"

"I think it was for me, and they didn't think we would be there...together."

"Oh," he blinked as she started pawing over him for signs of other injuries. "Oh!"

"Yeah, Gil, oh," Thena sighed, sitting back in the seat as they drove back to her end of town. She bit into her lip, shaking her head at him. "I can't say I blame her. I might even be impressed of her being so bold."

He also hadn't thought the little heiress would have it in her to call out someone as powerful and established as Thena. He didn't think this was really a hit, but certainly it was meant to intimidate her. As if his Ice Queen were the type to scare.

"It's not funny," Thena rolled her eyes at his chuckling, slapping his chest lightly.

"Well," Gil began, letting Thena continue prodding at his bruises and scrapes, "since this date got cut short-"

"It was not," Thena gave him a pointed look as she reached to the door and pulled out a mini bottle of vodka. She pointed a finger at him, "a date."

He moved forward to kiss the tip of her finger, but she moved it out of his reach and pressed him back into the seat by the chest again. He sighed, "fine. But either way, I think you owe me another...meeting."

"Oh, do I?" she flicked her eyes up to him only briefly before liberally pouring the ounce of premium vodka over his cut.

Gil hissed at the sting of it.

"Does this not prove how dangerous having our," Thena ran her tongue over her bottom lip in a flash, "meetings out in public is?"

Gil watched her as she applied a balm to his skin. It was just as much of an irritant as the liquor, maybe burned even more. But he kept his eyes on her, putting all her care into patching him up as best she could in the back of a car. He trailed his fingers down her wrist to her hand. "I still want to, though."

Thena sighed, leaning back again. She tilted her head at him, her hair slipping over her shoulder as she did. "We both know what this life means, Gilgamesh. This won't be easy."

"I don't want easy," he was quick to argue, pulling her to him, no matter the burn in his side and the soreness in his muscles. He pulled her in, smiling against her lips as her hand slipped under the collar of his shirt.

Thena moaned, their tongues meeting gently. Her fingers travelled over the tattoos creeping up to his neck. His hand left her hair to rest on her hip.

"I want you."

#Ice Queen/Tyrant King AU #their story continues #I hope you like it! #thank you so much for the ask! #Poor Gil #he really just wants to be romantic #take the woman he loves on a date #not have to worry about being ambushed by enemies #Thena keeps claiming that these meetings #everyone knows they're dates #are too dangerous to have so openly #but she never misses one #is never late #leaves early #does her hair and makeup in the back of the limo for some privacy #also #I love that you also thought of the zombie au #because I miss that one too

[tellthemeerkatsitsfine]

Okay, so. First of all, it’s amusing that John Oliver is the opener in this episode, less than half a year after Andy Zaltzman had the middle spot in his episode. John wasn’t up against more famous comedians than Andy was (if anything, the opposite – Andy went on after Rhod Gilbert and before Greg Proops, while John’s episode was headlined by Glenn Wool), so that shows Andy was just ahead of John in the hierarchy, at one point. And of Rhod Gilbert, apparently. It didn’t last, but you’ll always have 2003, Andy.

Next order of business: he does three stories in this set, the first of which I thought was one of the less strong bits from his 2008 stand-up DVD, but it may have been one of his strongest as of 2004. He also told it a little better in 2008. Next up, we have a story that I’ve been thinking about lately, as evidenced by these posts I wrote a couple of weeks ago because Isy Suttie stole his fucking story, and no one clocked it, they all just went on with the episode like it was fine, Alan Davies even used it for an episode title in a way that ensured it made the edit, and at this point it’s not even about the specifics of the incident for me, it’s about the fact that no one else seems to have noticed! And you’re not allowed to do that! I just need someone else to point out that you’re not allowed to do that! Someone is breaking the rules in an easily provable way, and no one has said anything about it!

In getting very agitated about this situation across those two posts, I went over a few issues with it. Discrepancies depending on who’s telling it and when. So let’s sort this the fuck out. Here is the story that John Oliver told to the live audience in New York City in February 2010, when he was being filmed for his American TV show:

The greatest thing I have seen in New York happened on the subway. I was standing in the middle of the subway, in the middle of the carriage, you know, right where the electronic doors come together. And that bleeping sound started, you know, indicating to people that the doors are about to shut, and that they should therefore run faster if they want to catch this train. And this one businessman came flying down the stairs. He was moving so fast that he actually had to bang against a column to change direction in time. As he ran towards me, the doors started slowly coming together, it’s like the whole world went into slow motion. Our eyes met. And I could see him thinking – he was carrying, like, a briefcase in one hand, and a suitcase in the other. And I could see him thinking: “Okay, well I can’t do what I’d normally do, which is stick out my hand, and stop these doors, as I’ve got these bags. And yet, I still seem to be moving, at pace, towards the side of this train. What to do? Think, Kenny, think. Brainstorm, you’re good at this in the office, there’s no right answer here. Just some blue sky creative thinking is what’s needed here.” And he did something which only he will ever truly understand. Because what that was is that he just stuck out his head, and the doors closed on his neck. Now, he wasn’t hurt. Because the system is, it’s supposed to go slowly the first time, and if it meets any resistance, it’s supposed to release, and then hammer back a second time. But, this had clearly happened one too many times to this driver, because he just left him there. This man was left with his head in the train, and his body and bags flapping around outside on the platform. You have never seen anyone de-age so fast in your life. He was clearly a successful man, yet in that moment, he just looked like a naughty boy, with his head stuck between some railings, waiting for a fireman to cut him loose. And yet, he still had the inherent heroic self-confidence from who knows where to, when someone tutted at him on the train, he looked up, and went, “What?”

What do you mean, “What?” Why don’t you hazard a guess? Your head is stuck in the doors. You are wearing this entire train as a makeshift hat. You cannot carry this look off. And then, the static sound started coming over the loudspeaker. You know the driver is about to speak to the rest of the train. And this driver was mid-laugh. He was on the phone to a friend of his upstairs, basically saying, “You have got to come and take a look at this. This is the best five minutes you will ever take out of your day.” And then, they finished their conversation, and the static sound was still there, and it became clear he was going to speak to all of us on the train. And I have never felt such a sense of excited community with strangers as we experienced together. All looking at each other, saying, “What’s he going to say? What’s he going to say? This could be incredible.” And he cleared his throat, the driver, and I promise you this is true, he said this. He said: [clears throat] “Well well well, looks like we’ve just caught us a douchebag!” Well played. Well played, driver. Well played.

And here is the story John Oliver told to a live audience at the London Comedy Store, while being recorded for a BBC Radio Four episode that aired in January 2004:

Comedians are, perhaps, the worst, for exaggeration, of anyone. You know, it’s kind of professional lying. And the biggest lie I think you’ll ever get told, as an audience, by a comedian, is when someone kind of swaggers to the front of the stage, and says, “Oh, a funny thing happened to me on the way to the gig.” That is never true. The only thing that ever happens on the way to a gig is overwhelming loneliness and a creeping sense of depression. But the fact is that once, an incredible thing happened to me as I was on my way to work, and I wanted to tell you about it tonight. I was standing in the middle of a tube train, opposite where those electronic doors come together. And that bleeping sound started, indicating to people that the doors were about to shut, and that therefore, they should run faster if they want to catch this particular train. And this one businessman came flying down the side of the stairs. He was moving so fast, he actually had to bang against a wall to change direction in time. And, as he came towards me, the doors started coming together, and our eyes met, and it was like the whole world went into slow motion. He had a briefcase in one hand and a huge suitcase in the other, and I could see him thinking, “Well, I can’t do what I’d normally do, which is stick out my hand and stop these doors, as I’ve got these bags. And yet, I still seem to be moving, at pace, towards the side of this train. What to do? What to do? So, he did something which only he will ever truly understand. And what that was was that he just stuck out his head, and the doors closed on his neck. Now, he wasn’t hurt. It was one of those situations where it’s supposed to go slowly the first time, and if it meets any resistance, it’s supposed to release, and then hammer back a second time. But, this had clearly happened one too many times to this driver, because he just left him there! So this man was left with his head in the train, and his body and bags flapping around outside on the platform, like some kind of frustrated Shakin' Stevens. You’ve never seen anyone de-age so fast in your life. This was clearly a successful man, he had the trappings of success. He had a purpose, a reason to be alive, somewhere to go in life. Yet in that moment, he just looked like a naughty child, with his head wedged between some railings, waiting for the fire engine to turn up. Yet he still had the inherent self-confidence that comes from who knows what? His job, his background, his politics, who knows? He still had the total confidence to, when someone tutted at him in the train, he looked up and went, “What?” What do you mean, “What?” Your head is stuck in the doors! Why don’t you hazard a guess? You’re wearing this entire train as a makeshift hat! You can’t carry this look off!

And here is the story Isy Suttie told to the live audience at the Battersea Arts Centre in London, while being filmed for the British TV show Alan Davies: As Yet Untitled, recorded in late 2022 and airing in March 2023, :

Isy Suttie: I was on a tube once, and a guy ran onto the tube. And as the doors were closing, he decided to stop them from closing with his head, so they closed on his face like that, and then he just looked…

Seann Walsh: Like Jack Nicholson in the Shining.

Isy Suttie: Yes! And then the driver came over the Tannoy and went, “Well well well…”

Stephen Mangan: He must have been, This is it, I’ve been waiting my whole…

Isy Suttie: You could hear the glee in his voice! He said, “Well well well, we seem to have caught ourselves a twat.” And he, he couldn’t move! He couldn’t move!

Right, okay. A few discrepancies there. I think we’ve ruled out the possibility that it happened in New York. Before hearing this radio thing, I’d thought I remembered reading that he was telling this story in England before he ever moved to America, but I wasn’t 100% sure of that. I now have heard it confirmed that the story was born at least 2.5 years before he left London. So it could still have happened if he was visiting New York before then, but not likely. You’d think he’d have said so, to the British audience and on the radio, if it had happened in New York. That would be an excitingly exotic bit of texture. This makes it a bit weird that, when he told it on TV, he specifically described it as “The greatest thing I have seen in New York.” I mean, it’s fine. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with changing details in a stand-up story or even making one up altogether. It just seems like an unnecessary lie to tell. Kind of funny, though, that the greatest thing John Oliver saw in New York did not happen in New York. So it probably did happen in London, meaning it’s possible that Isy Suttie was actually there.

The other major discrepancy is that John Oliver claimed the driver called the businessman a “douchebag”, while Isy Suttie said the word was “twat”. Isy also referenced this story on her podcast once, and that time, she also claimed the driver said “twat”. If it happened in London, then presumably the driver really did say “twat”, and John changed it for the American audience. Which is, also, funny. That John Oliver knew the American audience wouldn’t understand the word “twat”, and wanted to change it to the most American insult he could think of, and came up with “douchebag”.

When Isy referenced this story on her podcast, she didn’t specify where it happened, or even, technically, whether it happened. She said that someone she used to know (didn’t say John’s name, either) used to have a stand-up bit about [and then told this whole story, with the word “twat” instead of douchebag, not specifying when or where it happened]. So that technically leaves open the possibility that it never happened, that maybe John and Isy invented this together. But I think it rules out the possibility that she was, in fact, on that train with him. Because if that were the case, then he radio story would have been “This thing happened to me”, not, “Someone had a stand-up bit about this”.

The fact that the story was being told as early as January 2004 means the event, if it did in fact happen, happened in 2003 or earlier. And 2003 or the couple of years that preceded it takes us right into when he knew Isy Suttie, in a way that makes it so much weirder for her to steal his story. It means she could well have heard this story as just a thing that happened, before it was a stand-up bit. But then it very much became a stand-up bit, a staple of his stand-up for nearly a decade, and therefore, not fair game as part of taking a story that happened to someone you know and pretending it happened to you on a panel show. Isy, it’s been twenty years. Why did you do this?

The only okay option is it never happened, and John Oliver and Isy Suttie sat around together in 2002 inventing businessmen who got their heads stuck in trains. Joint ownership of the joke. Doesn’t seem likely, but I do like the idea.

It’s funny that on that radio show, the story was introduced with the idea that comedy is “professional lying”, you can’t assume anything they’re telling you is true, especially not if it’s a story of what happened to them on the way to a gig. And then he proceeds to claim that the following story is of what happened to him on the way to a gig. And that story turns out to be the centre of a confusing web of lies that spans twenty years.

I mean, this is some Kitson-style shit. Like in an early episode of Trifle, he told us that he’d planned to do a whole thing where he lied about where he was recording and used sound effects to make it seem like he was in different places, but he’d decided he shouldn’t do that. Then he told us, “This whole show is a ruse.” Then several weeks later he acted out a thing with Isy Suttie where he explained to her that he told us from the beginning it wasn’t real. Technically, John Oliver told us this one wasn’t real, he said stories from the commute to a gig aren’t real and then he said this story is from the commute to a gig. Okay, new idea: John Oliver and Isy Suttie came up with that back in 2002, to invent a story and then tell it in different ways in different places and different years and ascribe it to different people, and tell everyone from the very beginning that it was all a lie but they’ll still think it’s real. And it’s all some sort of meta commentary on what is and isn’t real in stand-up stories.

So, I have a new question for these people. If I could ask John Oliver one question, it would still be: “What the fuck was the thought process, and exact chain of events, leading to you smashing up a cow on stage at the Gilded Balloon at 2:30 AM on August 26, 2003?” But if I had one more, it would be: “So what happened with the train guy? In what way was Isy Suttie involved, during or after the fact? Was she there? Did you tell it to her later and you two embellished any details together? Where did happen? Did it even happen at all? Sorry that all my questions involve shit from twenty years ago, I would say I know it’s not fair to expect you to remember random shit that happened in 2003, but clearly someone remembers, and her name is Isy Suttie. And she’s getting away with breaking rules because apparently no one else remembers and catches her out!”

It’s fine. Sometimes I like to dig up mysteries from twenty years ago and ascribe far more importance to them than they actually merit, and then put a wildly disproportionate amount of effort into trying to work them out. It’s just something I like to do, because my life is going very well at the moment.

Obviously, if I could ask John Oliver one question, it would actually be: “When, and exactly how, did you and Andy Zaltzman figure out that your comedic styles and chemistry fit perfectly with each other, and what was the process in deciding to turn that into a double act?” I wrote that sentence while thinking I’d briefly take myself out of the comically disproportionate focus on a twenty-year-old mystery, and say my sincere answer to what’s the thing I’d most like to know about one of my favourite comedians. Then I realized that question is also about stuff from twenty years ago. That’s fine. I think we should sort out everything that happened in 2003 before we can get working on whatever’s going on now.

(...I’m feeling the need to clarify that I am aware that what clearly actually happened is Isy Suttie just heard an opportunity to tell a funny story on a panel show, and in the moment, made the not ideal decision to tell someone else’s stand-up story as though it happened to her. I very much like Isy Suttie, as far as I know she has no history of this sort of thing, it’s probably fine. But it genuinely gnaws at my brain that no one pointed out the flagrant issue with what she’d said, so I’ve enjoyed coming up with alternative theories.)

[editorialsonlife]

15.10.23

Aaaaah where to even start at the moment.

The election last night sucked balls. I'm so deeply unimpressed and worried about the future of this country, and the fact that so many people think an individualistic capitalistic hellscape is the only way forward. We've lost sight of the fact that a rising tide lifts all boats, and I'm so worried about the future for our lower income, marginalised, already discriminated against people and what this outcome will mean for them ya know? It's incredibly rough and it's going to be incredibly interesting to see where the next few years lead us.

On a personal level.... it's been a month of chaos. I had a lovely weekend with a friend in sydney, started the antidepressants when I got home (which has been a whole trip that I will delve into more) and then in the same three days, my friend ended up in hospital and was airlifted to our bigger wellington hospital for emergency spinal surgery with a significantly high risk of becoming paraplegic or quadriplegic. It was a really insane, really stressful few days, but damn oh damn did we absolutely have a great time being in the same city again honestly. it was so good seeing her every day for like a week. She ended up having the emergency surgery which went well, but they've identified problems with just about every vertebrae and disk in her spine so that's not great. fortunately, she got quite a lot of function back after her surgery. She's still in for a long road of recovery, but given she was walking around a ward clutching my arm and could barely get 10 steps in before needing to sit she's done amazingly well. This is the girl I hike mountains with, we do yoga, we've done bootcamp and weightlifting and walks and everything in between and I am so terrified for her and her family. so stressful honestly.

That was a super great week to start tablets that make you more deperessed and anxious before they start working adn unfortuantely for me I've hit just about every common side effect and some of the obscure ones as well while I've been onboarding up to a full dose. I'm still not there three weeks in and I probably won't be for another three at the rate I'm going tbh but anyway.

I think it's also starting to sink in just quite how depressed I actually have been for a very long time and there's a bunch of self reckoning and grief that comes with that and its feeling like a whole thing at the moment. I also just cannot. CANNOT. Start things at the moment and it's the actual worst. if I have to deliver something for someone else then I can pull it together briefly (and v last minute) but I cannot get anything done for myself or if there's no impending deadline and all I can say is this better fucking pass really quickly coz I'm not about this life it's incredibly hard to manage.

I also just... do not know who I am anymore or what I like or what I do for fun? All my weekend friends have left and Dave is such a homebody and now I just don't do anything in the weekends? I have no one to go on walks with or get coffee with and its a really weird thing to deal with? I have a load of friends but with Lynaire and Larissa gone, and Shelley constantly in Auckland it's all just completely shifted? I don't like it and I need to do something about it. I also don't know what I do for fun anymore or just for me and I need to find some things like asap.

One of the v interesting things to come out of the Sydney trip tho is that the friend I was visiting is SUCH a gym person and counts macros and gyms every day and even tho I'm like 40kg overweight I absolutely had more endurance than her. We were doing like 20-25,000 steps a day and she was so cooked by the end of it but I still had the energy to go for a swim etc and go for an evening stroll. So I guess there's that even if I am horrendously fat right now.

I dunno what this govt change is gunna do for jobs but I'm finding that a weird thought. I don't know what I'll do for work when I move to palmy or if I wanna retrain or something. Will be weird. who knows. I honestly can't picture anything before T swift in feb next year. the future is just so unknown right now so I guess that'll just keep rolling. time will tell and we'll meet it when it gets here.

that about sums it all up really?