#ESPECIALLY the new shit without will ramos

[headlessandhellbent]

I found a Monument of a Memory cd wedged in my car the other day and I've been playing it again to and from work and I just need you all to know

I fucking love monument of a memory

[venactricisfics]

Malibu Desert

@just1bri @redwolfs-world @wonderlust75 @queenbeered

@sickofbitches

Master List

It was supposed to be settled.

Twenty

“So how much should I order for the party next week?” I analyze the list of food, booze, and supplies I had to order for EZ’s patch party. Or I suppose depending on the vote it would be a normal Friday night party at the clubhouse. Bishop didn’t or couldn’t tell me which way the club was leaning. I saw how proud he looked when EZ did things for the club. The way he would handle club business.

And EZ had become his prospect. I heard some of the stories about Angel being his sponsor in the beginning and how blood and the patch were getting confused. I had a feeling there was more to the story. But that’s all I could get out of any of them.

“I think it’ll just be the club,” Bishop pulls my hair from my neck to press his lips there. “But could be more. Maybe getting another delivery from SAMCRO. Ramos and Canche texted me and are coming down too. Don’t know if they’ll still be here for that.” His fingers work the muscles in my back, “You don’t have to do all this, querida. That’s what we have prospects for.”

“I won’t let EZ plan his own party,” I let my eyes close and I just feel his hands and lips on me. “It wouldn’t be fair.”

“You don’t know if it’s gonna be EZ’s party, Hermosa,” his hand dips down the front of my shirt. I let out a soft moan as his fingertips danced over my nipple. Bringing it to a hardened peak. My head falls back against his chest and I let him distract me from my task. A welcome distraction.

Or it would have been until the shrill of both of our phones pulled us from our activities. I would have ignored it but no one called me, not unless it was important. And the number that popped up on the screen was from Charming.

I couldn’t hear the words from the other end of Bishop’s line but I heard the familiar Scottish accent. And on mine, I got Montez, the Road Captian, from SAMCRO. I met him briefly in Charming a few months ago. “Chibs wants a sit-down,” he says.

“I know, he’s on the phone with Bishop now,” I respond, “What’s this about?”

“Just about our mutual business dealings,” he stated. Guns. The email I got from Declan a few days ago said as much without saying anything at all.

“I get it, but this is more club business, isn’t it?” I quirk a brow as I stand from my seat. Bishop had paced off to have a more discrete conversion with the SAMCRO president.

“You should be there,” he says, “Chibs wants you there.”

“OK,” I responded, “I’ll be there. I’ll leave it to the club to make the arrangements.” Without another word, I end the call. I hear Bishop’s boots on the hardwood floor behind me.

“Church?” I ask and he nods,” Well there goes our quiet morning.” I stand up from the kitchen table, my hands cup his face, and press my lips to his. “Just let me know where we’re heading and for how long once you know. I need to get a shower and get ready. Then I can meet you at the clubhouse.”

“I still don’t like you involved in the shit we do,” he tells me. It wasn’t something I pressed. I stayed back dealing mainly with the back-end stuff, letting Chibs and Declan handle the stuff on the ground.

“I know,” I wrap my arms around his neck and just hold him for a brief moment before letting him leave to do club business.

---

I toss an overnight bag in the back of my SUV. Just a couple changes of clothes for me and Bishop just in case. Text from Taza said we were meeting at a lodge at 8. Leaving from the clubhouse at 2. Club messages were always cryptic. No details, just exactly what I needed to know. And only what I needed to know.

I pulled into the parking lot of the scrapyard. “Jefe wants you to ride in the van with me,” Creeper says as he takes my bag.

“Why?” I ask sharper than intended, “No offense.”

“I don’t ask questions,” he replies, “but he’s inside.”

“You’re putting me in the van?” my eyes narrowed as I walked inside, word oozing with irritation. Bishop was sitting at the table with Taza and Hank.

“Drop the tone and sit the fuck down,” Bishop’s eyes dark as he looks back at me. I let out a breath as I took a seat. Something about his commanding voice did something to me. I didn’t want to feel a pooling between my thighs when he talked to me that way but it happened. I wanted to be pissed at him for talking to me that way, but my body betrayed me.

“Alright,” I tuck a curl behind my ear, “Why am I riding in the van and not with you?”

“Me and my guys have to be on a united front,” he replied, “ with the Kings and the Reaper. No weakness.”

“So I make you weak?” my voice is shakier than I would like.

“You make me unfocused,” he stated, “we get there I’ve got to go up against the Cro and keep my shit together with the Kings. Can’t afford distractions.”

"I'm not planning a striptease or anything, I'm just going to be there," I straighten up in my seat, finding my voice again, "to protect my family's interest," My eyes lock with Bishop's, "Both of my families interests."

"You being there is enough," Bishop replied his voice slightly softer. "Ride up there in the van, querida."

"Ok," I conceded, "I suppose there won't be time for me to clean up before the meeting."

I watch out the windshield, the bikers' formation. It's different than I'd experienced before. The poetry was still there but I was no longer a part of it. Just a spectator. El Presidente flanked by his VP and his Sergeant at Arms, Gilly, Coco, and Angel road behind them EZ still took the rear.

"We'll be there soon, chica," Creeper's voice interrupts my thoughts. "Not as far as the last time we road together."

"Sorry, I haven't been the better riding companion," I tell him.

"Don't worry about it, I get it. My ol' lady never listens to me either," he chuckled.

"I didn't know you had a girl," I quirk a brow.

"She works nights so doesn't come to the clubhouse often," Creep responds. "She is her own woman, like you. She ain't like the club hang arounds."

"She sounds like a keeper," I smile at him, "I guess I do need to pick my battles. Club stuff can get complicated. Especially when emotions and business is involved.”

"Bish just wants to keep you safe. We all do," Creeper pulls the van to a stop.

"I know," I watch as my boys file their bikes into a parked row outside of the lodge. "I appreciate it. Even when I don't."

I adjust my boobs and slide my feet into a pair of heels. One benefit of riding in the van, the ability to wear my favorite strappy heels. I swing the door open and step out. The lodge is woody and manly. Very appropriate for the situation.

I smile at the feel of a familiar hand resting on the small of my back, "Let's get inside, Hermosa." I nod in return. Inside the scent of leather, smoke, and whiskey filled my nose. I stand nodding as Bishop and Taza go over the plans with the tribe leaders.

"If it isn't Bishop's Princesa irlandesa," Oso Ramos kisses my cheek before embracing Bishop in a bro hug.

"You remember Canche?" Bishop nods to the Yuma President.

"Nice to see you again," I offer a smile as I hug the man. Over the next half hour or so I hugged and kissed my way through another dozen or so burly bikers. I took my place at Bishop's side. I was given shows of respect being the ol' lady of a Mayan King. And the representative of the Irish Kings. This world embraced me in a way that the one I'd come from never had before.

"What'll you have to drink?" one of the guys asks.

"Whiskey and cranberry, please," I respond. The glass was handed to me an instant before the front doors of the lodge swing open and SAMCRO saunters through.

"Who do ya gotta fuck ta get a drink around here?" Chibs baritone unmistakable. The lips of the kings spread into a smile as they step up to welcome the Reaper crew. We have a drink then make our way into the conference room. The table stretched the length. SAMCRO seated on one side, Chibs shouldered by Happy, Montez, and the biggest biker I’d ever seen in my fucking life, Rane Quinn. The Mayan Kings sat on the other flanked by Taza and Hank.

My shoulders pushed back I keep my head held high as I take my seat at the head of the table. I couldn’t show that I was taking sides. Though clearly, I did have a bias. I listened as Chibs explains the delay in trading off the guns to the Mayans.

“The North Cali port authority has made the decision for us,” Chibs said, “they’re closing down the Mendocino port. The Irish have nowhere to bring their guns.”

“Shit,” Bishop says snuffing out his cigarette.

I look between the men and add, “There’s another shipment coming in two weeks but after that, until we find a new dealer. I talked to the Irish Kings,” I look from Bishop to Canche and Oso, then to Chibs, “I asked them to give us a little time to work out a new import strategy. SAMCRO has come up with something that could keep our business dealings going.”

“Sorry to drop this all on ya laps boys,” Chibs looks directly at Bishop. “But that’s the way it is.”

“You wanna bring ‘em South,” Bishop responds, “that’s why my crew is here.”

“Aye,” Chibs states, “way south. There’s an MC that runs the port down in Tijuana.”

“The Vatos Malditos,” Alvarez adds. The name didn’t ring the same recognition that it did for Bishop and the rest of my Mayans.

Bishop leans forward in his chair, “Shit, we just had a little run-in with the VM. I didn’t end well.”

“Well, fuck,” Chibs responded. I searched my recent memory for what the hell had happened and met Coco’s gaze.

“That thing with Letty?” I asked. He nodded his agreement.

“Their Prez is a friend of mine,” Montez adds, “He didn’t mention any beef.”

“You already talked to them?” Bishop asked.

“Aye, we had to make sure we could make a deal,” Chibs responded, “They’re coming up here.”

“You’ve got to be shitting me?” Hank grunted.

“If Palo didn’t mention it,” Montez states, “It means he’s willing to sit down and meet. Nothing is going go down while we’re here.”

“Is there any way things can be worked out with the VM?” I cut my eyes to Bishop then back to Chibs and Montez.

Bishop eyes Hank then talks softly to Canche and Oso. Reluctantly he sighs, “They come to the table we’re willing to talk, we are willing to listen.”

“It’s a beautiful thing,” Chibs responds. “Now until they get here I need another fucking drink.” I hang back at the table feeling a touch out of place as the guys filed out of the room. I couldn’t or wouldn’t try to influence Bishop’s decision but I knew that if this deal didn’t pan out, I could be cut out of my family’s business. And the business was my last remaining connection to my father.

“Yo, Malibu,” Angel’s voice interrupted my inner dialog. “Come outside and have a smoke.”

I looked up at him confused, “What are you talking about? I don’t smoke.”

“You look like you could use one,” he responded, “Or a good fuck but Bish is occupied with the Kings and can’t accommodate you right now.”

“You are an ass,” I stand up from the table and walk with him outside. The pounding of fist against flesh fills my ears, EZ on the ground punching the face of another Mayan.

“What the fuck?” Angel says, “He can’t hit a patch.”

“He can if I tell him to,” Coco responds.

“That’s fucked up, he put fucking hands on us,” the larger of the other Mayans shouts.

“He’s obeying orders,” Coco states with a smirk. I stand back watching this display of masculinity with a smile of my own. It was a welcome distraction from everything else that was going on.

“Y’all wanna bother the Kings with this petty shit right now?” Angel asks. EZ breathes hard stepping back. He got whatever it was that was in his system out.

I place my hand on his chest, “You good?”

“Yeah,” he responds, “I needed that.” EZ shrugs off and moves over with his brother.

I step past him and take a look at the guy he was fighting, his face bloody. “What’s your name, sweetheart?”

“Dolla,” he answers, “We just fucking with the Prospect.”

I show him my hands as I step closer to him, “Doesn’t matter why. Let me check your face. Make sure nothing’s broken.” I hold his face in my hands, my thumb moves lightly down the bridge of his nose, then over his orbital bone, and along his cheekbones. “You’ll be fine. I’d suggest you go around back to the bathroom to wash up. Don’t want your Prez to find out you lost a fight to a Prospect.”

I give him a wink then follow Angel, EZ, Coco, and Riz back inside. “Is the smoke pad always that exciting?” I ask as I catch up with them.

“All the time,” Riz says with a smile, “why I haven’t quit yet.” I take a seat on the arm of the oversized leather couch beside Bishop, his hand moves to possessively rest on my thigh.

“You ok, querida?” he reaches up wiping blood from my face with his thumb.

“It’s not mine,” I take the napkin offered, “One of the Tempe guys had an accident outside. I just checked him out.”

“The Vatos are here,” Hank says as he enters the room. We all stand, Bishop directing me protectively behind him. The tension in the air was palpable. I could see Bishop’s jaw tighten when Chibs spoke softly to them. My own heart raced but I stood firm. Weakness wouldn’t be acceptable in this room full of Alpha males.

We file back into the conference room. This time Chibs took a seat with Montez at the head, the VM on one side then the Mayans on the other. The room filled so fully men were lining the walls. The VM leader glared at me as I made my way to the foot of the table. Dolla from Tempe sporting the beginnings of a black eye slides the chair out for me.

“I can work with Santo Padre to schedule with the Irish,” I started.

“VM unloads and stores,” Chibs continues, “then transports to the East Cali border. We think 30% is fair to cut them in for.”

“Agreed,” Bishop responds.

“I won’t take orders from a woman,” El Palo barks.

“One word from this woman,” I narrow my eyes in his direction, “and this whole bloody deal is done. The Irish Kings would be more than happy to find another dealer to handle their business. And you can go back to scamming lost sheep.”

“Calm down,” Chibs says, “the both o’ ya. Ms. O’Shay is here at the request of the Irish. And will be here as long as they wish it.” I lean back in my seat listening as they discuss numbers and cuts. None of this concerned me. Not until they started talking about the Mayans paying restitutions.

“You lost men because you came in our fucking backyard,” Bishop said firmly. “What the fuck did you think was gonna happen?” My heart began to race again.

“The Mayans killed nine of my fucking men,” El Palo said.

“You were wrong,” Taza shouted.

“Can we just say that you both were fucking wrong?” Chibs states and looks over to the Mayan side of the table, “You’ve got to put something on this table so we can get the fuck outta here.”

After whispering with Canche and Oso, Bishop offers, “We’ll match SAMCRO’s 5%.”

“Fuck that!” El Palo yells, “20%!”

“Fuck you!” Bishop shouts. The men on both sides of the table stand up squaring off. Happy pulls his piece from his kutte.

“Jesus Christ! Fuck!” Chibs shouts still sitting in his chair at the head of the table. “You fucking Mexicans you make us Scotts look sensible. Gentleman get your fucking dicks off the table this is a fair deal.” Bishop and the Kings nod and everyone takes their seats again.

“I’m glad we can all come to a peaceful understanding,” I state. “Slainte!” I down my glass and the rest of the Mayans and Vatos join in reluctant acceptance. I hang back as the men file out. The VM exits the front and SAMCRO out the back. The men say their goodbyes.

Bishop laces his fingers with mine as we head back inside. “It’s a good thing what you did in there, hermosa.” He presses his lips to my temple.

“It wasn’t so hard,” I gave his hand a squeeze with a smile. “I’m used to handling angry Mexicans.”

“Don’t worry, querida,” he smirks, placing my hand on his member through his jeans, “I got plenty for you to handle.”

“I know you do,” I give him a kiss and a gentle squeeze. We sit and have a few more drinks. Music plays over the speakers. The playfulness of the evening was cut short but the sound of an explosion outside.

“Stay there,” Bishop jumps to his feet following the crew outside. I hung back, staying just inside the door a bike was on fire. I jump at the sound of machine gunfire. It seemed to come from all directions.

“Taz, Nova get down,” Riz shouts. I saw El Palo’s eyes clearly, he was focused on his assault. Riz took the shot and fell back on top of me. I never knew the man could be so heavy. I kept down. I heard Bishop’s voice yelling, his gun firing. All of their gun’s firing.

I shifted out from under Riz when the gunfire stopped. “Riz,” I place my fingers on his neck finding a weak pulse. Labored breathing. My hands moved down his chest and applied pressure to the wound. “Call an ambulance!”

I couldn’t think anymore, I just held pressure on his wound.

“Nova,” Creeper’s voice, “you’re bleeding.”

“It’s not my blood,” I muttered. Not sure if the shock or the adrenaline wore off but I felt a sharp pain in my shoulder.

“Lay back, sweetheart,” Taza’s voice soothed me, “Get a fucking ambulance now!” I could feel the color leave my face as I fell back. My hands were covered with blood. A mixture of Riz’s and my own. The room spun and went dark as I heard the approaching sirens.

[abbatoirablaze]

Queens Of The Mayans, Nevaeh, Chapter 11

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: overconsumption of alcohol, violence, slapping/punching, mentions of difficult subjects/loss of family/children.

The party was in full swing. A few of the other charters had appeared right after we'd gotten back with the supplies, and the clubhouse was full of kuttes. It looked like everyone was enjoying themselves, especially Kelani and Riz who were off in a corner playing pool with some Stockton guys.

I'd gotten pretty close with the cute new prospect who was doing the bitchwork for me, like cleaning glasses and getting ice.

"Angel, can you put another case in when you get a second," I said as I grabbed another beer for Tranq. I could feel the bass running through the speakers as I fixed a drink for Ramos, “oh and more ice!”

"Yes ma'am," Angel said from behind me. As I bent over to open another case of tequila, I caught Angel checking me out from my peripherals.

"Staring is a sin, Angel."

"One I'll gladly pay for."

"Watch your mouth prospect," Ramos growled, "she ain't one of the whores hanging around. That's Raul Cabrera's baby sis."

"Ramos," I purred to the man, "breathe primo. The baby Mayan don't know shit. I don't mind getting the compliment."

He chuckled then looked to Angel, "treat her respectfully. Her brother was one of the good ones that respected the club."

"Ramos..."

He caught my warning and solemnly nodded, a 'sorry.' That's when Angel came up to me, "you okay mami?"

"Raul died a while back protecting the club," I sighed, feeling the tears welling up in my eyes, “sometimes it’s a little more sensitive than others.”

"Hey, hey. It's okay," he said, turning me towards him and away from the bar, "Imma be right back...you gonna be good for a few minutes?"

I nodded and he walked away from the bar. I fanned my face and put a case of beers in the fridge, trying to make the tears go away. This party was the kind of shit Raul lived for. But he woulda called it a family gathering.

But then Stockton was in a bind, and the Lin's came after them. Raul went up there with his crew and Madison Lin ended up putting a bullet in his head all because he wouldn't give up the port to the Triads without payment.

"Hey," a voice whispered. I looked to the other side of the fridge to see Angel. He had two shots in his hands, "bottom's up."

Not in the mood to fight it, I took both shots from him, and downed them one after the other, "thanks."

"One of those were for me," he laughed, “but if you needed em both, I guess I can’t say nothing, can I?”

I couldn't help but smile as I grabbed a bottle and left the bar. Angel followed me to one of the couches where we took turns downing some and bullshitting.

"You know," he slurred, "they'd kick my ass if they saw me just sitting doing nothing."

"Then play cards with me."

"Really?"

"Say I made you do it," I laughed, feeling very light-headed. He chuckled and we went over to one of the tables where a few of the other charter guys were sitting with some chicks, "hey you guys got room for more?"

"I don't know," the guy drunkenly laughed, "we're planning on playing strip poker."

"Guys v girls?"

"Hell yeah," another one of the guys smirked, "I ain't stripping though. Prospect. Take my chair. Alright, rules. Winning hand counts for the whole team. If your side loses you take the punishment. No rewards for the winner, other than seeing the losers take it."

A few of the guys began howling excitedly, making comments about how well each of us could probably 'take it.'

"Alright," the guy laughed, trying to calm them down, "You can take a shot, or lose an article of clothing, but you can't take more than 2 shots in a row, understood?"

"Yes sir," Angel laughed, saluting him. I sat down with a few other girls and the guy began dealing out the cards. A few rounds in, and the guys were down to their jeans and boxers, and we were in our bras and underwear. All of us very drunk.

I giggled as I stared Angel down. I put my cards down and showed the boys that I'd had a royal flush. The girls cheered as the guys had to strip yet again. I couldn't take my eyes off Angel as the men stood, and he kept his eyes on me as he undid his belt dropped his jeans.

I'd be lying to say I wasn't attracted to him. His confidence made me want to ride him on the fucking table.

"Hey, what the hell is going on here?"

We all looked over to none other than VP Che, and that's when I remembered his little sister Kelani had joined in a few rounds ago.

"Fuck."

"Game's over," he growled, picking up pieces of clothing, "everyone, clear up from the fucking table."

We all scattered, grabbing our individual clothes, and I took Angel's hand. He followed without question as I opened up the first door, I could manage to get open.

Pulling him in, I slammed the door after, and slammed him up against it, connecting our lips. Both of us dropped the clothes we were holding, and his hands began to explore my body. He lifted me up, moving us away from the door, and as my back hit the shelving, I realized I'd pulled us into their stockroom.

"What the fuck is going on here, prospect?"

The lights were harsh, but the only thing harsher was Coco's death glare, boring holes into my soul.

"I asked you a question," he all but yelled. Angel hurriedly put me down and gulped. His intoxication had worn off, and his newly sober self was nervously looking for an answer for his superior, "well, prospect?"

"He's with me, obviously," I growled, “get the fuck out of here, Coco.”

"Get the fuck out," he growled at Angel. Angel didn't even question it, but rather grabbed his stuff and high-tailed it out of the room. That's when he turned his attention to me, "the fuck you think you're doing, Eva?"

"What's it look like?"

"Looks like you're proving me right and whoring around with everything you can."

"You stalking me or something?" I hissed, feeling more angry by the second, "what the fuck is it that you want with me, Johnny, huh? One second you wanna talk. The next you call me a whore. Pick a fucking lane."

He looked at me, taken back, and I huffed. I began putting my clothes back on, and once I'd finished, I grabbed a fresh bottle of liquor. Ripping the bottle open I took a few large drinks before Coco ripped it out of my hands, "what the fuck, Johnny!"

"You don't need this shit," he said gruffly, tossing it back onto the shelf, “so cut it out.”

"If I'm dealing with you, I do."

"Well, if it's based on who we're dealing with," he growled. He ripped it back off the shelf and took a few large chugs and then stared at me, "I better down the whole fucking bottle."

"Why do you have to be so goddamn immature, huh?"

"Immature?" he yelled. He took a few more drinks, and I ripped the bottle out of his hands. Unfortunately, my lack of coordination caused me to drop the bottle, shattering it all over the floor, "oh really good fucking job. Look what you did?"

"What I did?" I yelled back, gesturing to myself, "look at what you did, Johnny."

"The fuck did I do? You dropped the bottle."

"Not the goddamn bottle," I groaned, pushing him, "me. Me, you fucking idiot. You broke me. I can barely function. If it weren't for my son, I'd probably still be sucking dick trying to forget you. Why the fuck did you come here, huh? You say it was for me, but you didn't fucking talk to me for years. You were fucking here for years and ignored me."

"HOW CAN I FUCKING TALK TO YOU?" He screamed at me, "WE'VE ONLY EVER FOUGHT SINCE I LEFT. WE FIGHT. WE FUCK. I LEAVE. THAT'S THE FUCKING PATTERN NEVAEH."

I pushed him hard against the door. He looked at me, pissed off more than ever, but he didn't leave, "leave me the fuck alone."

"No. You're fucking drunk. I'm not gonna let you go fucking everything that's got a dick."

"Fuck you, Johnny."

I pushed him again, and he didn't move nearly as much, "I fucking hate you."

"Yeah, well I fucking still love you."

Everything hurt. The sun should have been a godsend, reminding me that I did indeed wake up despite my heavy drinking, but for the life of me I couldn't remember anything. Shifting slightly, I rolled over in bed.

How the fuck did I get into a bed?

Wait. This isn't my bed. It's not Michaels. Pushing the covers down I was in nothing but my cami and my boyshorts. Where's my bra? I sat up and noticed a kutte sitting over a leather chair. I could see the president patch and my eyes went wide.

No.

I looked around the room and noticed a few pictures. He was in every single one of them. Then the bathroom door opened and in walked Bishop Losa in nothing but a towel. It's like he read my thoughts when he reached onto the nightstand, grabbed a cigarette, and lit up, "don't worry sweetheart...you're not my type."

I let out a sigh of relief, "then...wh-"

"Why are you in my bed?" he asked.

I nodded, "yeah."

"Well let's just say that if I didn't, you woulda fucked Ramos on the pool table," he laughed, "you two were drunk off your asses, and neither one of you were backing down from your little game of chicken."

"Game of chicken?"

"Yeah," he chuckled, "it was pretty fucking wild, kid. I'll give you that. After Coco chased Angel out of the stockroom, one of the girls said he told you he loved you, and you punched him. After that you danced with any patch that looked at you. Then Ramos told you to cool it. You called out his manhood in front of some of the Stockton guys..."

"Jesus christ," I sighed, putting my head in my hands, "you've gotta be kidding me."

"Nope," he laughed, turning to his closet. He grabbed some boxers, jeans, and his scrap yard shirt then headed back to the bathroom. He left it open just a crack and continued our conversation, "You two got in one another’s faces, and then you started getting hot and heavy on the pool table."

"Oh fuck."

"Made Coco puff pretty angry," he shrugged, coming back into view, fully dressed. He ashed is cigarette in the tray then sat on the edge of the bed. His eyes went from joking to a softer tone, "you know...you two got some real back and forth shit, don't you?"

"You guys have no clue," I admitted to the president, “it never ends with me and him.”

"That why you punched him instead of saying you love him back?"

"Is it easy for you to just judge people up on your little pedestal?" I asked, feeling slightly angered by the fact that he was yet again butting into my life.

"It is when both people are fucking it up."

"Well, I'm sorry we can't all be perfect like Obispo Losa. The man who can't get into a relationship after some fucking loss, so he just fucks up everyone elses...and then gets pissed when he can't fuck it up."

He put his cigarette out and sat up off the bed. I felt guilty as he started packing his wallet and phone into his jeans.

"I'm sorry," I whispered, “I-that crossed a line.”

"Don't be sorry, kid," he said in a huff, "not like your wrong. I push people far the fuck away from me. I protect the ones I love by kicking them to the fucking curb. My position in the club can really fuck someone up. Hell, you see how Che and his old lady are sometimes."

"Why are you even tolerating me right now?" I asked, feeling confused over the fact that he saved me from sleeping with Ramos, and then proceeded to make me feel angry about Johnny, "what's in it for you?"

"Maybe I just feel guilty over the fact that I fucked up your happiness before," he shrugged, shoving the pack of cigarettes into his pocket as well after grabbing another one and lighting up, "Maybe I don't want you ending up like me. You got someone who wants to love you, and you're running away from it..."

"What's so bad about running," I asked, taking his cigarette, "looks like you've done well for yourself. You always run from serious relationships."

"I run from that shit," he admitted, watching me as I took a deep drag, "but I'd give up my place in the club if it let me have a wife and a kid again. I'd trade anything for that shit. I see what Che's got, and it makes me glad...but it also upsets me. Sure Aayana and him are at each other's throats sometimes...but he got his happy ending. I'm proud of my brother."

"But you want yours?"

He nodded, taking his cigarette back, "I'd give anything for it, Nevaeh. To wake up in the morning, an old lady in my arms. Some little pitter patter of feet charging towards us to ruin sleeping in. They would scream about breakfast or some shit, and she'd wanna stay in bed with me, but I'd pick them up and cart them off to keep them busy while she made breakfast."

"Wow Bishop, sounds like there is a romantic buried under that burly man," I playfully chuckled, "do you think about that a lot?"

"From time to time," he admitted with a shrug, "you never think that it won't happen until it's too late. Until you had it and let it slide through your fingers."

"Now you're just being dramatic."

"Just a realist, sweetheart."

"It'll happen one day, Bishop," I said, trying to comfort him, "you may think it won't...but I mean, look at Marcus. He thought his life was over after Esai...then he met Diana...and they had Tessa...and Marcus is older than you, so if he can still have kids, I'm sure you can go and do it again too."

He smirked at me, chuckled to himself, and got up after patting my leg.

"Don't run from your shit," he sighed, "that's the advice I'm gonna give you kid. Because if you do, you'll end up on my path...and I love my brothers, but I'm resigned to the fact that I'll never have the life that I wanted because I was too chickenshit to deal with it."

"We need to talk."

"Famous last words," I laughed, looking up at the man I'd given a black eye and a broken nose to, "You know you really need to get that set or it'll heal like that."

"Fuck if I care," he growled, "this ain't the first time you've broken my nose, ma."

"I break it anymore you'll have more nose jobs than Michael Jackson," I laughed, “sure you can handle that, Coco?”

I got a small smirk from him, and he licked his lips, "well maybe you should stop fuckin hittin me then."

"Stop being so stupid and maybe I will."

He nodded, "all I can do is try."

I laughed and opened the door a little more, letting him into the apartment, "you have fifteen minutes. I just put Johnny down."

"I can work with that," he smiled a little more. I tried to take a deep breath and not think about all the emotions that I felt when I looked at him. He walked past me and observed my apartment, "you got a nice place."

"You wanna spend your time talking about my house, I can deal with that," I laughed, "but is that what you really want?"

"No," he shook his head. I sighed, feeling the light-heartedness of our conversation fade away, "Listen...you're obviously hanging around the club again because of Riz...so we're gonna have to find a way to get along. I don't want that shit affecting me."

"That shit?" I growled, "are you kidding me, Johnny?"

"Yeah," he shrugged, "what happened between us-WHAT THE FUCK!"

My stinging hand felt like nothing compared to the already red mark I'd left across his cheek.

"You don't get to say nothing about how 'that shit' was," I growled in the lowest tone I could muster, "I loved you more than life itself. I was going to take Letty and run off to the ends of the earth to find you so we could be together. It's not just 'that shit,' to me."

"Ain't no fuckin reason to keep slapping me," he growled, "damn."

I sighed, trying to compose myself, "You're right...I'm sorry."

He looked at me, half shocked, "really?"

"I'm still a little sensitive about it...if you haven't happened to notice."

He chuckled, "trust me...I have."

I glared at him, which instantly made his hands come up, "come on ma, don't hit me again."

"don't act like a jackass," I said swiftly as I turned back to the rest of the apartment. Grabbing two beers I sat them on the coffee table and sat beside him on the couch.

"I really do want to talk about it though."

"There's nothing to talk about, Coco."

"I had feelings for you too," he said quickly. He stared at the beer for a second then took a large gulp and continued, "I don't want you thinking I didn't...but we both knew that I couldn't handle that shit...hell I got leave to come to the hearing and fight for you. But I didn't have no grounds...took everything to have Celia leave you alone...and then at the motel."

"I don't want to talk about that Johnny," I pleaded, “I don’t want to go back down that road.”

"We got to, ma," he said in a pleading tone. I stood up and made my way over to the kitchenette, reaching for a bottle of tequila.

"Johnny," I groaned, “no.”

He shook his head, getting up, "I know that shit's painful. Fuck, it took everything in me not to go AWOL with you. You know how different shit would be if we ran off with Letty...we'd both be fucked."

Not wanting to listen to it anymore I ripped the cap off the liquor and took a few large swigs. The burning I felt going down was nothing compared to the hurt my heart was reliving.

"Hey," He said, ripping the bottle away from me, "don't do that shit. I'm trying to fucking talk to you. I’m trying to be serious, Eva."

"No, you're just bringing up 'shit that don't matter anymore,' and I don't want to hear it," I groaned, “so stop.”

"Just because you don't want to hear it, don't mean that it isn't real," he sighed. He put the cap back on the liquor and put it on the counter behind me, "come on..."

"Were you being serious when you said you still loved me?" I asked.

He looked at me as if I were the dumbest person on the face of the planet, "Of course I fuckin meant it."

"Johnny I-"

"What?" he asked, "don't tell me you don't feel something too. Fuck, you can act all big and bad, but I see how you are looking at everything. You see why I couldn't come back to you...but you're still wearing my dog tags when I finally did see you...even after having another man's kid."

He wasn't wrong.

I had fought the feelings since I was younger, but I always came back to Johnny. Like a moth to a flame, there was no getting away from one another and I think he knew that.

My eyes flickered from his eyes to his lips, and that was all it took. It was as if some magical okay had been said, and our lips were locked. It felt like electricity shooting up my body. I felt his arms going along my waist, tracing my hip, as he lifted off my shirt. My hands begun to fumble greedily for his belt.

I wanted him.

I needed to feel him again.

He pushed his jeans to the floor, and I felt him hardening against my thigh as he bit my neck.

"Mommy?"

Chapter 12

[facelessfrey]

Roswell New Mexico - Season 3, Episode 8

First off...yay! Now I have new things to draw I suppose. Haha. I’m very tired after podcasting and then watching this but there was definitely a lot of smiling at those Malex scenes. 

I said this after episode 3 and the burn the world down comment that I didn’t understand why they weren’t just together based on what we’d seen and I was kind of right because if they had just had a fucking real conversation several episodes ago, they could have just been together already. 

I don’t know, I’m kind of torn about it. Cause on the one hand, yes, I love it. It was lovely to see Alex actually open up a bit and have a real conversation with Michael...and call him Michael...swoon...and be honest about Deep Sky and everything he’s been doing. On the other hand, while it’s taken plenty of physical time to get here, I still don’t know that the show has bothered to really put in the emotional work to get here. I mean they only interacted twice before this episode this season. And both times they kind of had their patented “let me say some deep meaningful stuff and then walk away without really dealing with it”conversations and I feel like there needed to be more even while I felt like they were already kind of there at the end of last season. Especially because the Forrest thing went absolutely nowhere. I don’t know, I guess because it took all this time, I wish we’d really seen them learn and grow emotionally more. I guess I don’t quite understand what changed to have Alex actually tell Michael the truth this time about Deep Sky and all that? Was it just Ramos being like “I hired you because you fell in love with an alien” so Alex was all like “shit...I did, and he’s single now so I should go actually work on that.” I don’t know. 

I feel like this is one of those mid season episodes where I’m like “this is great, I love all of this and these dynamics and if I only watched this episode, I’d be like yes I believe all these things and it all feels fine!” but when I actually stack it up next to the rest of the season and series, I’m like...but is it? I was rereading my recaps from last season and I kind of said this about Michael and Maria’s relation ship in episode 7 or whatever that if I just saw that episode I would think they worked but building on the rest of it, it felt too fast and unearned. Now obviously Malex have all that history behind them and the show loves to make references to their cosmic connection and love so like...it works mostly, but I still wish we’d gotten more on screen build up to it. 

But anyway....those concerns aside, I did very much enjoy this episode. They worked as a team! Alex was actually involved with the group! Everyone got to be awesome! They did actually work in character stuff along side of the plot stuff, which was all I was asking for after last week. So good on them for that. 

I liked the progression in the Liz and Rosa relationship and and Liz learning to trust Rosa more as an equal and not having to always be the smartest in the room etc. I think that was good for them and a nice resolution to some of their sort of growing pains issues of Rosa coming back to life and now sort of being the little sister and Liz being very protective. Hopefully that will continue. 

Obviously the Malex stuff was lovely aside from my above concerns. I liked Alex being involved with the group in the beginning and Michael and Isobel in their military outfits very briefly there. I of course loved all of the dramatic moments with Michael reaching out and stroking Alex’s face and Alex taking his hand inside with Jones to protect him. It felt kind of absurd and overdramatic but sure. Haha. And I did like the fact that the story from Iraq was about his leg because it’s nice to know that information and it was a nice transition into his “you’re the piece I can’t lose in my life, Michael” speech and you know...the pieces want to be together and all that. Haha. Lots of good things. And of course they haven’t kissed on screen in the present day....I was going to say since episode 3 but then I remember the threesome which shall not be named but yeah....this was better. And the hat came off. Haha. Anyway....it’s all great. 

I also really liked Alex backing the car up into Jones to stop Michael from having to make that choice. Excellent. 

The mindscape stuff definitely got a little heavy handed with some of the “are these the people of color” moments. Again, it’s Roswell and they do love making a big deal about their social moments. I get it, but it’d be nice if they learned they didn’t have to call it out quite as much and people would still understand. 

I did like seeing Isobel get to be a badass and fight Jones in the mindscape. That was fun. 

I do like Maria getting to have a real role in things this season and have her past tie into everyone else’s alien history. It’s nice that she gets to actually be part of the group properly this season and not just based on who she’s dating or what she knows. I do still want to know if that coffin vision is still in play though. 

Alien brain usb drives are...a thing. Sure. 

It was nice to connect all of the past stuff with the Lockhart machine. That nicely ties together Deep Sky with the rest of it. 

I would still like for people to remember Kyle. 

As much as I liked Liz’s moments with Rosa and Isobel, I would have liked to see her with Maria once she was awake. But I did like Isobel and Maria’s post mindscape chat. And I liked her teasingly encouraging Maria about Gregory and telling her to take the call. That’s the kind of character interaction I want to see. 

I’m still a bit confused on when people are talking about clone Max and when people are talking about Michael when it comes to Nora and Jones. Hopefully that all gets sorted out. But congrats to the people who were right about Jones just taking over clone bodies to live forever. 

Of course we end on having to “save Max Evans” cause it is all they do on this show. Haha. I hope that in season 4 he’s just...good the whole time. 

All in all though, a really good episode and I hope we continue on that way. I do feel like the plot is pacing better than previous seasons. I just really want to not have a Caulfield or Alien/Manes DNA bomb level episode 12 again this season,, where they just pack an entire season’s worth of plot into one episode and then it just ends anticlimactically. So finger’s crossed they don’t do that again. 

I guess I’ll go rewatch the Malex scenes now. I’m gonna be so tired tomorrow. 

[superbatson]

tagged by @madisonrooney

tag 9 people to know more about their interests, hobbies, etc. (no pressure!):

@sighmonhaynes @matt-murdok @favoriteliar @whitmore @brainwxves @buirs @taylorklaine @reallyhardy @koridick

MUSIC

fav genre? pop 😔

fav artist? bleh it changes a Lot but lately it's like: bastille, set it off, matthias schweighöfer (heh), anthony ramos, grandson, ajr

fav song? IT CHANGES SO MUCH but lately i do be vibing a lot to lauf by matthias schweighöfer

most listened song recently? according to spotify, it's stay alive by hidden citizens ft remmi (which checks out, i'm lowkey obsessed with that song)

song currently stuck in your head? lauf 🙈

fav lyrics? "it's kinda funny how you vote for someone / to vote for someone, to vote for someone / and you might end up with someone evil but you say that he means well / if i keep on talkin' politics, my friends will dip, they're over it / if i keep on talkin' politics, i'm hamilton, without the hits" (3 o'clock things by ajr)

radio or your own playlist | solo artists or bands | pop or indie | loud or silent volume (medium) | slow or fast songs | music video or lyrics video | speakers or headset | riding a bus in silence or while listening to music | driving in silence or with radio on

BOOKS

fav book genre? YA, romance, dystopian, contemporary, mystery, crime, modern fantasy (i'm not generally that into, like, the old kingdom stuff with all the made up names and shit)

fav writer? neal shusterman (my king)

fav book? unwind by neal shusterman, the giver by lois lowry, brave new world by aldous huxley

fav book series? UNWIND AKA THE GREATEST BOOK SERIES OF ALL TIME; CONNOR, RISA, LEV, AND CAM ARE MY CHILDREN

comfort book? a bear called paddington by michael bond (the paddington audiobooks are sooooo good to fall asleep to, i love them a lot)

perfect book to read on a rainy day? anything, really, reading on a rainy day is the shit, but i feel like it's especially fun to read really atmospheric, escapist stuff so i'll say her final words by brianna lasbuskes and sirens by joseph knox (both really excellent crime novels that make for wonderful rainy day reads)

fav characters? camus comprix (unwind), paddington bear (paddington), john the savage (brave new world), jonas (the giver), bayr (first girl child)

5 quotes from your fav book that you know by heart?

"I love you, Risa. Every last piece of me." (it's from undivided but w/e it's still the unwind series okay)

"In the distance, he thought he heard music. Perhaps it was only an echo." (the giver)

"But I don't want comfort. I want God, I want poetry, I want real danger, I want goodness, I want sin." (brave new world)

"In a perfect world, everything would be either black or white, right or wrong, and everyone would know the difference. But this isn't a perfect world. The problem is people who think it is." (unwind)

"Nice socks." (unwind)

hardcover or paperback | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature | listening to music while reading or reading in silence (white noise baby) | reading in order or reading the ending first | reliable or unreliable narrator  | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary | rereading or reading just once

TV AND MOVIES

fav tv/movie genre? animation, comedy, musicals

fav movie? how to train your dragon

comfort movie? how to train your dragon, beauty and the beast (1991 & 2017), batman v superman: dawn of justice, zack snyder's justice league, tangled, shazam!, trolls, trolls world tour

movie you watch every year? probably something christmas-y, i'm trying to make it a tradition that i watch the 2018 grinch movie every year

fav tv show? friends

comfort tv show? friends, trollstopia, trolls: the beat goes on, spirit: riding free, any of the baking championships on food network, spongebob squarepants (old episodes though)

most rewatched tv show? friends

ultimate otp? branch/poppy, belle/beast, bruce/clark

5 fav characters? queen poppy, barry allen, billy batson, belle, chandler bing

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging | one season or multiple seasons | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes | subtitles on or off (i find them distracting) | rewatching or watching just once 

[the-a-word-2214]

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

The Singer

Anthony Ramos x OC

Warnings: Some swearing, drinking

A/N: Thank you so much to @charming-charlie for collborating with me on this! All credit goes to her on this chapter.

Summary: Anthony and Scarlett get to know each other, in what one would consider a first date. Who knew it would end in embarrassment?

2,147 words

Chapter 2: The First Date

New York City was bustling with people, especially at night. The tourists were gone, sleeping in their hotel rooms, leaving the regular city dwellers to finally come out and enjoy their hometown. Scarlett saw instantly how Anthony was able to blend in. Despite being on one of the biggest productions on Broadway, no on was flocking to him, grabbing at him, desperate for some attention. He seemed to know how to avoid detection, which allowed Scarlett to think that he snuck away like this before.

The walk was quiet, with a few pleasantries between the singers. She wanted to ask him some questions, get to know him, but she didn’t want to dominate the conversation, or say something that could be taken in a different way. She just met the man and she didn’t want to say the wrong thing. However, she kept telling herself that if she didn’t say something, he might take it as she wasn’t interested.

The restaurant was nestled in between a music store and a bagel shop. Scarlett almost missed it and she probably would have if Anthony didn’t steer her in the right direction. Their shoulders crashed against one another as he nodded toward the Italian bistro and Scarlett followed his line of sight. The restaurant had tall dark windows, a café area outside that was surrounded by white lights, and a revolving door that led to the inside. One thing Scarlett saw about this place that stood out: it was small. Like, impractically small. There’s no way the two of them would find a table, let alone be seated comfortably.

Yet Anthony’s smile was as bright as ever.

The pair walked in and the hostess smiled in greeting. “Hey Anthony. Usual table?” she asked politely as she turned to start fishing out menus from the box behind her. Anthony shook his head. “Nah, I don’t have my whole crew with me tonight. Table for two instead.” The hostess nodded approvingly, removing two black menus from the box, and motioning Anthony to follow her.

Scarlett was right. The place was jam packed, lively and jovial. It reminded her of her club on a Saturday night. Loud and boisterous, but still classy and respectful. She was so in trance with all the people, mostly because it only seemed to add to her anxiety, that she was completely caught off guard when she reached a staircase. “You coming?” she heard Anthony above her.

Looking up, she saw the Broadway star was halfway up the stairs, his body turned to look at her with confusion. “Don’t tell me you have a fear of stairs,” Anthony said, although his tone was meant to be taken in jest. Scarlett shook her head as she followed him up the flight of steps.

The second floor of the restaurant was much quieter and had less people. The blonde caught on quickly. They were in the VIP area of the restaurant, and Anthony frequented this place enough to have a table to himself. It was surprising, and Scarlett had to admit, she may even felt a little bit jealous at the connection that Anthony had. He didn’t seem to flaunt the fact that he was this ginormous Broadway star.

The couple took a seat at a small table in the back and Scarlett could feel her exhaling a sigh of relief that they were not in center view. She was shy, especially in big crowds. This was a good setting for her. The menus were placed in front of them, along with a complimentary basket of breadsticks. Scarlett did not feel hungry. Her nerves were getting to her.

“Can I start you off with any drinks?” a waiter appeared suddenly, as if on cue. Then again, Scarlett shouldn’t be surprised. It was the VIP area after all. “A bottle of Chardonnay sound good?” Anthony asked Scarlett, who merely nodded at the suggestion. “A’ight, we will start with that.” The waiter left after being dismissed to fetch the wine, leaving Anthony and Scarlett alone for a few minutes.

Say something, Scarlett told herself. She practically had a celebrity, a Broadway idol, in front of her and she couldn’t get her mouth to work. He sang, acted, and danced every night. Maybe he has a few pointers for a singer like herself. That’s what they have in common so far. Talk about that, she told herself. It was at this point she was started to mentally curse her nervous and shy personality.

“How long have you been singing?” Anthony asked. He took a breadstick from the basket and began munching on it. Scarlett looked at him with a sort of crinkled face. It was like she was studying him, like she had a test about him the next day. Anthony didn’t waver; he must be used to people gawking at him like that. “A while. I was a waitress at the bar until my boss caught me singing a tune in the back while washing out the glasses. Since then, I was promoted to the spotlight,” Scarlett answered as calmly as she could. Her hands were pressed tightly in her lap and she knew they would start trembling if she let them go.

The waiter came back, popped the cork on the bottle, and filled two wine glasses with the white liquid before leaving the bottle in an ice bucket on the table. Once he left, Scarlett found her hand wrapped tightly around the glass and bringing it to her lips, where she took a small sip, followed by a larger sip before setting the glass down. From that point on, she started to loosen up. She could feel it. Good, this was good. Maybe now she could relax and enjoy Anthony’s company without worrying about her shy demeanor.

The pair talked about anything and everything after that. Anthony told her about the jokes and hijinks that went on backstage at Hamilton, including the time he hid the king’s crown from Jonathan Groff. Poor Jonathan was forced to go onstage in a cheap and flimsy king’s hat from a costume store. Scarlett told Anthony about the time she took up horseback riding, only to end up with a broken arm in the process. When she revealed that the horse’s name was Bad Luck, Anthony broke out into a fit of giggles at how poetically karmic the name was.

At that point, the bottle of Chardonnay was totally empty, including half of the breadstick basket. Anthony had already paid for their next-to-nothing meal and pocketing his credit card when Scarlett was coming back to reality. Something didn’t feel right. Anthony noticed immediately and looked at her with concern. “You okay?” he asked and the blonde nodded. The Broadway star seemed unconvinced. “Where do you live?” he questioned with a cocked eyebrow. “Down the road. Like two blocks that way,” Scarlett ended up answering. She tried to point in one direction, but her arm was twirling in the air, pointing everywhere. She lowered her arm, confused as to why her appendages were not obeying the commands from her brain. “Near the bakery,” Scarlett mentioned. She loved waking up to the smell of freshly baked bread and cookies. Her apartment complex was right next door.

Anthony nodded. He knew the place well enough. Once or twice, the cast and crew received treats from the bakery. “C’mon, let’s get you home.” He stood up easily, like he didn’t have a drink at all. Scarlett, however, seemed to stumble just to get on her feet. Anthony approached her, grabbing her by the arm and carefully guiding her. It practically hit Scarlett as the two were making their way across the room to the stairs, that maybe Anthony only drank his own glass of wine. That meant… shit, Scarlett! You drank the whole damn bottle!

There were no words to describe what she felt. Anger at herself for being so stupid and careless was at the top of the list. Now Anthony was seeing her in a drunken stupor, and the pair only just met tonight. This was not looking good.

Scarlett had to grip the railing, with Anthony holding tightly around her waist, as she practically hobbled down the stairs. She could walk but not in a straight line. More than once, Anthony had to pick her up and help her down the flight of stairs, like she was a child. The embarrassment that seeped inside her was also not helping. Once outside, she was hoping the fresh air would do her some good, yet all she really wanted to do was run up and down the street with her arms spread wide. Thank god Anthony continued to keep a tight grip on her.

Normally, he would call for a cab, but since Scarlett lived so close, and he wanted to see that she got home safely, he stayed by her side. “How much did I drink?” Scarlett asked, her words were slurring a bit. Anthony almost thought she asked something else, something with a bit of gibberish in it, but he was able to pick out the phrase. “A lot,” he said with a laugh. Scarlett felt herself turn red from embarrassment. Or maybe it was the alcohol. Either way, it did nothing to help with her mental state.

The apartment complex was a bit rundown. It was a newer building but from the looks of things, it gave the impression that the construction company rushed to get it ready. The roof was in need of cleaning, the paint was chipping off, and it gave off this feeling that rent was cheaper than normal, especially in a city like New York. “What floor?” Anthony asked. Scarlett was clinging to him now. Her arm was wrapped around his shoulders and she just raised one finger in the air.

It took a while to figure out exactly which apartment was hers. She would giggle when he asked and even tried to keep the key away from him in some weird game of keep-away. Once inside, Anthony was surprised to find it sort of normal. Despite Scarlett having too much to drink, which he felt was fine considering everything, he enjoyed talking to her and getting to know her tonight. In his experience, that often came with hidden secrets from girls he would be interested in. A messy home, a kid he didn’t know the girl had, money problems, so on and so forth. Scarlett continued to surprise him.

He set her down on the couch and went into the kitchen. When he came back, he had a glass of water in his hand and was offering it to the blonde. “Here, this’ll help,” he said gently. He sat next to her and Scarlett took the water, along with a few sips of the helpful drink. It did do wonders. She knew the reason she was hit so hard from the bottle of wine was because she drank on an empty stomach. That was on her and she wouldn’t blame Anthony if he didn’t want to see her again. With that thought, she felt like maybe she should tell him how she was feeling, especially when she had liquid courage working its way through her system.

“Thanks for bringing me home,” she said while setting the glass of water down on the coffee table in front of her. She turned to look at the Broadway star with a smile. Anthony was about to say something but Scarlett kept talking. “You’re really cute,” she said while leaning into him, “Like, really, really cute.” That was not how she wanted to start the conversation but oh well, it’s out in the open now.

“I kinda like you,” Scarlett continued. She caught Anthony off guard, she could tell by the look on his face, yet her drunken stupor apparently didn’t care. “I think you are funny, good-looking, and that smile, dude,” she replied. Anthony was beaming at the compliments, but he remained composed. He was determined to keep his hands to himself. One bad news story and the tickets for his show would flop, plus he might be out of a job. That was partly why he didn’t drink it up at parties and such. He had to retain this public image.

He was about to say something, but Scarlett never got to find out what that was. In a moment, an instant, she ended up kissing him. His lips were right there, and she couldn’t help it. She was leaning toward him, unaware of what exactly she was doing. It just felt right, in that moment. However, Scarlett wished she could remember what happened next because, once her eyes closed and she gave herself over to her drunk side completely, she passed out. As if the night couldn’t get any worse or embarrassing, she was laying right on Anthony’s lap.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧*:･ﾟ✧ ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ✧･ﾟ:

[hellzyeahthewebwieldingavenger]

Amazing Mary Jane #1 Thoughts

Apologies for not getting to this, or indeed other of the recent comics sooner. I’ve felt unwell recently and had computer troubles which conspired to delay my reading and writing up about this.

As such this is possibly going to not be as nitty gritty as I maybe usually would do as I’m going off memories a bit.

TL:DR version is, it’s good with one, albeit notable, flaw.

And Hell let me get that out of the way immediately.

Why...isn’t Mary Jane informing Peter that she’s working alongside a bunch of criminals?

Now look...I’m willing to give the story and Leah Williams the benefit of the doubt. MAYBE Mary Jane is playing a long game here or something. But if she’s not...I mean...that’s kind of a big problem with the story isn’t it?

MJ is allowing actual criminals, including Mysterio, to roam free. Worse she’s arguably doing that because she wants to make the movie and have it be a success but...isn’t that rather irresponsible and selfish, to say nothing of dangerous to herself. Of course MJ is a bad ass and can handle herself. But she is literally surrounded by criminals including a guy who Spidey usually only beats because he has a magical danger sense to help him out. Unless she engages in some Batman levels of cunning she wouldn’t realistically survive this situation.

Now again MAYBE there is something more going on, I very much hope so and am waiting eagerly to see that, but if there isn’t it’s going to be a huge thing working against this series quality.

However apart from that literally everything else was firing on all cylinders.

It’s difficult to do anything other than gush.

First of all the artwork is fantastic. It’s like if Todd Nauch and Ramos had a kid and it looked stylized like Ramos but also how people should look like Nauck.

The characterization, exempting the one thing I spoke about, was also very much on point. I can’t recall Mysterio and MJ ever interacting much (if ever) before but the idea practically writes itself, it’s such a natural pairing!

The gag about being insured was great and clearly drawn from Leah Williams past experience in that business, I hope we get more of that.

MJ herself is presented very well. She’s confident, she’s serious, she’s determined, but also fun, upbeat and has dashes of goofiness and flirtation (with Peter I mean).

So far, so good Williams seems to have a strong grasp on her character (again sans that ONE problem I noted).

I especially liked how Mysterio wasn’t a typical thuggish villain like you’d imagine Scorpion or Electro being. For instance rather than make inappropriate remarks regarding MJ as the likes of Crusher Creel might do, he actually gets angry at the idea that she used sex to get her part. But here is the nuance in Williams writing. Because whilst it’d be typical to make Mysterio a thuggish villain like Rhino or Sandman or Electro, in it’s own way it also would’ve been typical to have made him a pseudo chivalrous villain who doesn’t tolerate sexism. Instead she sets that up but then veers to the side as Mysterio is actually angry at the idea that HE could be manipulated by sex (or ‘womanly wiles’ as he puts it) thus making Mysterio atypical but still most definitely a villain.

  The idea of Mysterio as the ‘artiste’ of the Spidey rogues has been milked very effectively starting with Spencer’s run and the idea that he and MJ could honestly connect through their passion for their art is a great bit of character writing. It tells us a little about who Mysterio is whilst also demonstrating MJ’s own social skills. Peter and Mysterio could never get along this way, and I know that because they started to in Webspinners #1 (which Mysterio’s movie is based upon btw) but the conversation got awkward and they walked away from one another.

Other stuff I liked was the subversion of expectations. I walked into this believing the plot would likely be that about us readers fearing for MJ as she didn’t realize who she was working for and thus how much danger she was in. But Williams simply had MJ figure that out almost immediately and now, besides the Savage Six, we don’t know where things are going to go and that’s a good thing.

By the way, isn’t it great that this is a story where yes MJ’s association with Spider-Man has led MJ into working with one of his enemies and arguably being exposed to danger from him, but she herself deduces that, then chooses to continue taking that risk and isn’t bothered by it? The real danger is coming from Mysterio’s enemies not Peter’s (okay they are technically Peter’s enemies too but you see what I mean). Literally just 2 years ago this would’ve been fuel for the ‘see they can’t be together because it’s too dangerous for her’ jackasses like Slott.

Now it should go without saying (but I will say it anyway) that the PeterxMJ scenes were delightful.

For a split second was thinking phone sex isn’t really in character for Spider-Man. But then I thought you know...MJ has in the past had the effect of loosening him up (see every kinky 90s thing artists did with them) and you could arguably say they were being somewhat ironic anyway. Of course the shipper in me liked it all the same. As I did with the 20 second dance party which I suspect will be trotted out many times in years to come within the MJ fan community. Appropriately it was referenced in the same scene as her crowing moment of awesome, the Chameleon (who appeared in ASM the same day) baseball bat incident. Williams knows her shit it seems!

Now there is one other thing I feel I should talk about.

There was a rather lengthy scene regarding the writing of MJ’s character that was clearly intended to be meta commentary upon the portrayal of female characters.

The question is what specifically was Williams passing commentary on?

How Mary Jane has usually been written?

How she has usually been written until this solo book of her’s?

How women in comics are usually written?

Or how women in films/comic book movies are portrayed?

I’m not sure. I think if it’s options 1 or 2 that’s rather unfair and not really looking at the nuance of the character.

But to be honest looking at this book and Williams’ own comments regarding MJ in interviews prior to this book’s release I don’t buy that. Williams’ comments combined with some of the deepcut continuity she references here doesn’t paint her as someone who thinks MJ is underdeveloped or who’s only purpose in the story is to serve Spider-Man’s story. Indeed any MJ fan worth their salt is aware that part of what made MJ successful and popular to begin with in the 1960s was that she precisely DIDN’T do that.

As such I think options 3 or much more pressingly option 4 is what Williams is commenting upon.

The condensed nature of comic book films mean that it’s a rarity for characters beyond the lead or the villains to get much of their own stories to play out. This is certainly the case with Michelle in the MCU Spider-Man movies and Emma Stone in the Webb movies. But curiously less the case with Dunst’s Mary Jane.

Let’s also consider that this story was promoted as talking about the movie business, something Williams has insider knowledge of and thus it makes sense she’s commenting upon and satirizing that as opposed to comic books (hence we got that insurance gag early on).

In a sense you could say she’s using Mary Jane as a (logical and entirely in character) mouthpiece to comment upon how female characters in movies like Mysterio’s are more like Gwen Stacy but should be more like her, Mary Jane.

Although I must admit the dialogue where they talk about her character int he movie lacking powers and such did confuse me. I didn’t get that.

So over all...yeah...this was great. Again there is one notable problem I hope gets addressed before everything is said and done but in every other way this thing is scoring touchdowns all the way.

Buy it!

Buy 2 copies!

Buy 2 copies and some variants, then get the digital edition and pre-order the trade!

P.S. Thanks to this new comic I learned a new word! Ingenue, gotta find a way to slip that into conversation some time.

[goalkepa]

2k followers appreciation post💙

I did the appreciation post when I reached 1k probably a year ago. And I feel like I need to write this again, not only because I keep this as part of the memories but also because I regard it as a chance to show my gratefulness to every single one of you who has become my friends or just simply support me, unconditionally. This post will be pretty long I guess. You can just scroll through as long as you feel annoyed. But if you have time, especially those who I will mention later, I hope you can read it word by word, because you guys really take a big part in my life. Without further ado, let’s get started!

I’d love to mention some *old* friends first:

@thomas-partey :

Probably the one that has been there for me from the beginning of this journey? I always enjoy the time when we have talks, Yerika, about Atleti, about life. You are such a sweet and brave person, who will put all your efforts to reach the goals you set for yourself. That’s what I admire A LOT. Although we didn’t talk that much like we used to, because you’re not online pretty often anymore, just want you to know that I’m still here for you, always. And I feel like I’ll write you a message very soon🙈Thank you for always backing me up. Much love to you.💙

@coolsaul :

Awww Julie my superb French bean out there😍 I still remember when I traveled to Paris, I messaged you about some stupid questions like I was so worried that if I couldn’t find the location of Boutique FFF or if I went there and the store was not open etc. But you were so nice and patient to me at that time, and even now you will still answer ALL the things about Les Bleus and even share your amazing memories (like meeting all those French idiots) with me, which makes me feel so so honored and happy. Oh and not to mention how awesome you are as an Atleti’s fan and how ambitious you are as a beautiful lady. Wish everything goes well there in UK. Much love to you💙

And now here comes some *new blood*. I think I’ve talked to more people after World Cup compared to the time before this tournament. The reason? I don’t know. For me, this needs a lot of courage and I’m extremely glad that I sent the simple “hi” message to some of my mutuals (or few of you sent me first), who are all so freaking nice to me. I wrote the order randomly. In case I forgot to mention some of you, I’m truly sorry. It only means that I’m a dumbass and I honestly don’t know how to put my feelings into words. Anyway, I thank all of you a lot. Here we go:

@niguezsaul :

Needless to say, the funniest Colchoneros I could not ask for. When the game is live and you post your live update, it’s really entertaining. Sometimes it could be hilarious, or just so close to the truth. Your love for Atleti is very valuable and precious. Although I believe you’ve experienced the hardness of supporting this color, you will never give up, right? When the next season comes, you’ll definitely witness our spirit by yourself. Trust me, Karo. You won’t regret for being heartbroken for them over and over again. Much love to you💙

@the-place-to-sparkle :

Let me introduce you a sweet, kind, caring and beautiful lady. Her name is Cami. You’d better write it down. Girl, your love for the things you adore is the purest thing on this planet. Not only football, but also the way you dream of living in your life. On this site, there are too much hatred and negative things. But you are never affected by this. You’re always the one who shares positive stuffs, post some good vibes and reblog all those gentle reminders, which are helpful for those who need, including me. What makes you become such a unique person in my heart, is that you never hide the true side of yourself. This is why all of us love you, Cami. We love the real you and you should never change for anyone. Keep on sparkling✨ my lovely bean. Much love to you💙

@diogodxlot :

Okay so please let me say this again, you are so fucking beautiful ngl (Hector should open his eyes honestly😏) I really really love those locksreens you made, all of them. You have a good taste in aesthetic. I hope I can reach 1% of your level😂 And the thing that you said you cannot choose a single player to print on the jersey? That’s the cutest shit ever, Charvi, really. I hope you get yourself a jersey very very soon. Manchester United owes you one. And good luck to the last exam. You’re gonna SMASH IT. Much love to you💙

@lidah-itsme :

The most gorgeous Italian on this planet goes to…. Teresa🥳 You don’t know how much I love the story behind the name “Lidah”. This is not only such a cool thing but also a meaningful way to represent yourself. I love it. Also your love for Liverpool and Trent amazes me every single day. You’re such a nice fan, only focus on your team in a positive way. That’s what we need on this site✊🏻 By the way, I remember you love Eden Hazard, right? Maybe we should talk about how this happens, privately👀 Much love to you 💙

@draxla :

So, Nathália, my Atleti’s and Chelsea’s mutual. Becoming part of the Blues is not in my plan but here I am. And I’m so glad that there is someone who can experience the pain with me🤣 We haven’t talked too much, but I like you and your point of view. Your thoughts are so close to mine most of the times. I feel grateful for that. At here, there are too many different opinions and finding a person who thinks the way we do is such an awesome thing. I believe you can feel it too. Thank you so much for being my friend. Hope our teams still stop disappointing us for the rest of the season🙏🏻😂Much love to you💙

@erikscn :

Let’s first talk about the Gremi thing, joking😜 But this is probably the reason why we started our conversation. So, I guess, thanks to that😂You’re talented in writing. Your work for my boy Paulo is such a beautiful masterpiece. Promise me that you will never stop showing your talent, alright? What I adore you the most, is your personality. Those stories you told me give me clues about which kinds of person you are. And this IS the Greta I LOVE😌 Don’t ever feel that you’re dumb or not good enough. Being who you truly are is the reason why you’re on this post, and he knows it too! Much love to you💙

@holdmyhopeinyourhands :

First of all, thank you for being my coolest mutual askjsanjkn🙈 I honestly never saw anyone shares their deepest thought of players like you do, Mona. Those post you dedicated to specific players are enjoyable to read💞 And your love for PSG and Roma is the most supportive I’ve ever seen. They are lucky to have a fan like you. Never stop doing what you’re doing, including writing the umbrella academy fanfic. You have the rights to decide how to manage your blog and I’ll support you no matter what✊🏻 Much love to you💙

@avsensio :

Who is the funniest person on this site? Lexi. Whose posts always make me choke? Lexi. Who is the master of using memes? Lexi. I’m not going to give more clues about how awesome this girl is🤷🏻‍♀️ I still remember our first talk. It was an unforgettable night for me. After time goes by, we found out so many mutual points, like we are both March baby, our love for France NT and we both adore Lauv’s music etc… the things we share really cannot describe by words🥰 And remember you told me to not stop what I’m doing, to not affected by others? Your words sill impact me nowadays. And now it’s my turn to tell you, do not fucking change yourself for others. Yea it’s impossible to let everyone like you but you will always have my support. ALWAYS✊🏻Much love to you 💙

@fcsonny :

Nicole💞✨ Can’t believe we met on tumblr when you were at Taiwan. I noticed you because you reblogged my post of the football journal and said you are able to understand the content. My first thought was like “oh shit there are people who can understand what I’m rambling in the journal😱” and then I thought “wait you speak Chinese?!?!?😍” so we talked and this is honestly one of the coolest experience ever, not to mention how nice you are to me. Thank you for that and next time when you visit Taiwan for the fourth time, message me in advance so I can show you around👌🏻 Much love to you💙

@paudybalas :

I’ll never ever forget that you came to my ask box and told me I’m the reason why you decided to create a football blog😭That was definitely one of the warmest compliments ever happened in my life. And you know what? You’re meant to become an awesome football blogger. I may inspire you but you are the only one to make your blog perfect and honestly, I feel like a proud mom🙈Those gifs you made are art. Those personal stories we share with each other will forever be part of the memories in my heart. You inspire me as well, Ellie🥰Thanks a lot. Much love to you 💙

@football-laeli :

Don’t want to sound dramatic but you are absolutely one of the sweetest human beings here🤧 Positive vibes only, always trying to convey some good energy and that’s amazing, Janna. Also, I’m so glad that you decided not to hide your support for you club Ajax anymore💞You changed for your boys, is there anything more powerful than this? I guess none. You’re such a sweet lady, and I wish one day all these good things you give us could all go back to you, because that’s what you deserve😉 Much love to you💙

@disappointment-fc :

So, you are a special person to me. First, you support Real Madrid and you once tried to convince me to love Sergio Ramos😂 This...is honestly quite cool and you are a nice madridista, which surprised me the most najksjnjas🙈 Second, you like Jeremy Lin (right?). Please take care of him🙏🏻Third, you are my kid and I’m your mother. You never go to bed on time, which means I could spend more time talking to you so I’ll try not to ask you to sleep early in the future👀Anyways, you’re one of the few that sent me messages first and have always been nice to me since then, including encouraging me when my team falls down. That’s the kindest gesture I could not ask for more. Thank you, Chloe💞✨Much love to you💙

@theblxefox :

I’ll never stop saying how much I thank you for inviting me join the Chelsea family👀🤧 Without you, my love for Kepa would just remain the original level (now it’s unstoppable😏) I love the way you deal with Chelsea’s disaster, being sarcastic but the love is still strong. Also, on this site, you not only care about football, but also global issues, sometimes even political aspects. You are not afraid of speaking your thoughts. Meanwhile, you stay respectful and let others convey their opinions. We need more people like you, Tommer🙏🏻 You’re that kind of person I dream to become. A kind of person who is beautiful both inside and out. Much love to you 💙

@footballgotmeoncrack :

The only person I already met in real life before having a talk online✨ This is not a coincidence, Angie, I always believe it’s not. The story happened between us is the most unique, ever. I remember you because you were nice to me at the stadium, and you are still nice to me, every second since then. Your love for goalkeepers, like Hugo, Gigi and Iker, is so pure and strong. I could not quite understand why goalies needed to be loved before I also become a fan of a goalkeeper. That’s why I admire you a lot, because you already started to protect the most important and underappreciated role on the pitch✊🏻I’m so glad that you’re able to see your team Spurs this summer. I’ll pray for you to get Hugo’s autograph or even a chance to talk to him🙏🏻You deserve it, my bestie. Also, good luck to your studying in advance. Much love to you 💙

@madtimer :

My beloved Taiwanese mutual here🥳 It’s hard to find a girl who loves football in Taiwan. That’s why I feel grateful to meet one here, not to say how sweet this girl is. Your love for BVB and Milli reminds me of my love for Atelti and Grizi. They are quite the same. Being disappointed but we never give up on them, right Lisa? And all those gifs you made, the way you support your team, is something I want the most from a football fandom (tho I still haven’t download PS because I’m too lazy skajnskj) also you are the one that writes journal related to football, like print some players’ photos and puts some thoughts on it, which makes me so happy because I’m not the only weirdo doing this👀 Anyways, thank you for always being there for me when I need someone to talk in Chinese😜 Much love to you 💙

@hazantowifey :

Potato’s wife, sometimes I really want to punch your face when you said cruel things about football but sadly😂 I can’t, because those are the truths, and you help me accept it. I will never forget that day you commented below my post saying that I’m important to you. Like, I’m shocked because we didn’t really have a lot of conversation but you already regard me as your friend. I still can’t believe it really happened to me😭 You can never make me mad, because you always know how to make my heart go like “aww” by sending me Kepa’s gifs🤦🏻‍♀️ And I HATE you for that. Hope one day we can meet in real life. Maybe go to THE 1975’s concert or a football match, Belgium vs France, so you can wear your Hazard’s jersey and I can wear my Anto’s jersey😜 I’ll look forward to that day to come. Much love to you💙

@leroysanei

My dearest 🐰 , the one that sent me messages first when I need it the most. An important person who always knows how to cheer me up. A person who will send “good morning” to me. A person that truly regards me as a real friend in her life. You take a big part in my heart, 🐰. No one can replace you. Your kindness is the reason why I opened my heart again, to make me believe that there are people I can trust on this site, to make me believe there is someone who will understand my feelings even tho they didn’t know me before🙏🏻 Except for talking about football, I love the time when we share our lives more, oh but maybe also when we are pouring our love for Kepa janskjnskdj🙈wow I really drag you into it I’m 👀 so proud of myself. Your reaction when you said you wanna dance with him in the rain, gosh this is the cutest thought EVER (oops I’m exposing you again 😬). You’re such a clever, independent woman. You’re much more amazing than you expected. Anyways, 🐰, thank you for becoming my best friend in life. Much love to you 💙

For the last one, it will go to my forever soulmate @footballffbarbiex

The one that joined me from the beginning of this journey. The one that has saved me from depression over and over again. We have been through many hard moments and shits together, which others will hardly understand. There are a lot of times when I only sent you a simple sentence, but you got it all. I don’t really have to explain anything you just know me too well. I don’t know why I’m so lucky to meet you in my life, to have you as a friend, a family. Besides being my soulmate, you’re a blessing to this fandom. First, I love your writing, a lot. You have to admit that you’re so talented at this part. That shhhh seires? Masterpiece. That Kepa’s one shot? Masterpiece. I won’t go on for the smut ones because that will expose myself ajsnjnaksjn😜 Second, you have a great interaction with your readers. You listen to their opinions, talk to them and always being so nice. We should all be grateful for those beautiful works you’ve provided to us. Third, you always care about our feelings and always being so respectful to everyone. You deserve love and love only, Amy💞 Words will never be enough to describe my thankfulness. But meanwhile I’ll never stop saying this, thank you, for being one of the most important people in my life. I’ll love you forever and ever💙💙💙

At last, thank you all those who came to my blog and left some sweet, kind messages. Thank you all for liking my stuffs, giving me encouragements or sharing your thoughts with me. It literally means a lot to me🙏🏻

It’s such a pleasure to be on here and I sincerely hope I can bring more joy and positivity to all of you in the future 💙

Love you guys so much,

Steffi

[luciferinati]

Personal

Chapter 4

Lead roll - Mario

Others - Sergio, Paulo, Cristiano, Luka.

Words - 870

@arduango @asensihoes @mandzomandzo @luka-moredick @domo-no-domo-yes @lovre-n @tinymodric @smolmandzo @djbagudina @aj-lajk ​ @pachua ​ @zadarskabagudina @marilyn-mandzukic @sebby-ravnica @mad-for-mandzukic @flemishyugotalian @winters-chiid @sejan-is-love @footballcursed @ante-ray-bitch @synne-sol @smolmandzo @incorrect-croatia-nt

•-Where am I- Mario was embraced by pure darkness somewhere on the floor. There were no windows and no real light. He felt terrified. There was no where to go.  Nowhere to run. And he felt something was coming for him. The man got up and ran, at least tried, but he got nowhere. Then out of the dark came a man all tatted up and naked. The man wasn't scared at all. Mario felt safe with him. It felt like it was his savior. He couldn't see the face of him - it was all blurred out. The tattooed arm reached for Mario's hand. He accepted it. The naked man spoke up "I will never let you go."

Mario knew the voice, but couldn't quite figure who's voice it is, " Who are you?"

"I love you, but I cannot say that" he said.

"WHO ARE YOU?" Mandžukič yelled

Something hot went through the man. He clenched on his chest and fell on his knees. The tattooed man tried to save him, "Please no! No! Don't die! I cannot live without you! Please no!"•

Mario woke up. It was 11am. The dream he saw was a blur, the only things he remembered was that someone shot him and that there was a naked man trying to help him. -Weird.-

He got up and went to the shower. The cold water flowing down his body really helped him to wake up and wash away the sweat off his naked body. Plans about the day roamed around his head, he wanted this day to be productive so  since he was home he decided to cook for himself this time, not go to a fast food restaurant as usual.

Living alone was a huge con, because nobody could tell him what he should or shouldn't do and that's the exact reason why Mario didn't bother wearing any clothes, except for a robe that wasn't even tied up.

It was the most peaceful morning the man has had in a long time and he was happy. He turned on the news on, made himself some coffee and planned out his holiday.

*News lady: ...yes, two bodies were found dead in the car, neither of them were under toxic substances, however the man who survived and caused the accident was intoxicated. ...*

Mario took his time to cook the food and since he was hungry as hell he made so much food it could feed a family of 4. The news lady talked about other crimes and financial news, that didn't even bother Mandžukič.

The news were about to end so the man went to the tv with a coffee cup in one hand, plate with cooked eggs, bacon and peas in other and two toasts between his teeth as fast as he could so he doesn't miss all of the good parts of the news. He put it all on the table in front of tv and threw himself on the dark leather sofa.

*news lady: ...however, on a happier note, Jon will tell you all about the sports news - Jon.

Jon: Thank you Hanna, yes this has been a very interesting year for Croatia. Breaking all kinds of records and it's honestly unbelievable. At the world cup they reached second place and in the UEFA game versus Spain they had their biggest win 10-0. Honestly unbelievable. *

"THOSE ARE MY BOYS!" Mario yelled with a piece of egg in his mouth.

"SHIT I HAVE TO SEE HOW THEY KICK RAMOS' TEAMS ASS!" His yelling made the piece of food fall in his throat. He tried grasp for some air as he coughed.

"Shit, that was close," Mario cleared his throat.

He pressed on the latest UEFA game he was eager to watch, and got a bit confused when he saw the captain of the Spanish team - it was not Ramos. -Where the fuck is Ramos?- He checked other players out to hopefully see him, but he wasn't there. -Maybe for some reason he is now a substitute, when the list of substitutes popped up, the name of Sergio Ramos was nowhere to be seen. -What the fuck?- the man checked Ramos' instagram profile -Maybe he wrote something about a retirement from the team or something?- and there it was - \INSTAGRAM POST: I'm leaving the national team, thank you all for having me as a captain, as a teammate and most importantly as a friend. Thank you all so much. You all are gonna be good without me.❤ \

It was posted two days after Mandžukič retired from his national team. -Is that a coincidence? Because he didn't retire, he just left. Why would you leave your team just like that? Especially when you are a captain of it and always get the spotlight.-

Mario didn't really know what to do with the information he got from the post.

*GOOOOOOOAAAALLLLLLL LUKA MODRIIIIIC!!!!* -Why am I even so interested in him? I should be interested in the game!-

He threw his phone away and watched the game. Suddenly an unexpected ring came from the phone he just threw away, "For fuck sake!"

Mario looked at the phones display. It was Ramos.

[baekhvuns]

Thoughts on ManU vs Barca 🎤 see that's what you get for taking the piss! M🍙pe saved PSG again 😅 Ramos wtf, French and Spanish NTs in shambles 🤡 The Spurs defeating Chelsea oops

Sigh I blocked so many weirdos over the past few weeks. Also found out I met one of them at some point 🔫 I don't mind when someone travels for one or two gigs, but attending almost every stop on multiple continents and always getting barricade? And fan signs are even worse

Yeah I heard the atmosphere amongst SM's staff is not the best, even though they have so much work to do with the way SM's calendar for 2023 is FILLED. Apparently some people at Hybe aren't happy either. I'm laughing cause some stans (ekhm Armchairs) kept insisting that there's not Big 4 cause Hybe USED TO BE A SMALL LABEL. And now they're trying to buy everything?!

You're right, Hybe hops on every trend, they're not pioneers in anything except shitty unnecessary vocal processing

Noooo exams stopping you from having fun once again. Doesn't your avocado uni know kpop acts barely come to Vancouver??? But I hope Baekhyun's world tour isn't just Korea, Japan, USA, maybe SEA and perhaps London, Berlin, Paris if SM is feeling more adventurous

Please do not dance to Single Ladies in front of me, it triggers my fight or flight response 😭

No rice wine in my blood system, but lots of coffee, tea, bubble tea especially, and hot chocolate! Btw Baek the vegan spots in Seoul are banging!!! ❤

Most Brits find posh accents silly and tbh sometimes they do sound ridiculous, but what can you do lmao. Posh people are on sight 🔪 since the class system is still very alive and present in the UK

Mou vs Mbappe would be quite funny, I think both of them might lose their shit every 10 minutes 😭😭😭😭

Have you won the lottery yet? Instead of dreaming about being rich I had another Hwa dream...... well that dream won't to come true and I think it's for the best aksjaushwjajjsjaja

They're baby girling without knowing it lmao

Also they're doing dirty blonde SO DIRTY WHYYYYY. I voted black to piss people off, grey deserves better as well

Ok London isn't that cold rn and Seonghwa probably warmed up while jogging, but goddd wtf. We've been blessed by the calves tho. And here.... the slippers lol

I'm ready for more Kai serves! The wings huhu, I almost didn't notice he was half naked

Btw model, miss Tenelka has posted a new fic, I haven't read it yet, but my friend said it's model Hwa. AND I also had lavender oat milk latte and the same drink was mentioned in the fic, idk what to do with this info

Baek, what Wooyoung fencer AU, you need to focus on Yunho bestie 🤧😭

Snake Hwa agenda. Stop I was about to go to sleep at a respectable hour for a change, but HIM I'm devastated. How am I supposed to sleep

😭

And now some whiplash 🧍🏼‍♀️ - DV 💖

hello!!

Thoughts on ManU vs Barca 🎤 see that's what you get for taking the piss! M🍙pe saved PSG again 😅 Ramos wtf, French and Spanish NTs in shambles 🤡 The Spurs defeating Chelsea oops

barca played better, bodied man utd’s defenders the only good player was casmiro and thats cause starboy pedri was injured 🔫 BUT man utd was good! did u get the storm? MBAPPE ??? it was that small 5’7 boy from rosario actually, yeah but their duo is def >>> every team in shambles atp what even is going on

and waking up to this, YOU HAVE A BEAUTIFUL WIFE AND TWO KIDS HOW HARD IS IT TO BE A GOOD MAN 😭😭😭😭 another one for prison fc i guess and did u hear about the m***n g***n***d’s news 😭😭

Sigh I blocked so many weirdos over the past few weeks. Also found out I met one of them at some point 🔫 I don't mind when someone travels for one or two gigs, but attending almost every stop on multiple continents and always getting barricade? And fan signs are even worse

YOU MET THEM??? DBSJDHSJDHKS did u get the vibes from them,, YEAHH travelling to every stop, tiring and the $$$$??? i just want their wealth tbh <3

Yeah I heard the atmosphere amongst SM's staff is not the best, even though they have so much work to do with the way SM's calendar for 2023 is FILLED. Apparently some people at Hybe aren't happy either. I'm laughing cause some stans (ekhm Armchairs) kept insisting that there's not Big 4 cause Hybe USED TO BE A SMALL LABEL. And now they're trying to buy everything?!

iM sorry did they say there’s no big 4??? but weren’t they the ones…who made a big statement in your face type repeatedly that hybe was now big4… yEAAAHH i wonder how the sm staff’s are being held bc maybe their salary would be cut? it just seems like it’ll be a very hostile environment between two companies…no more interactions at award shows 🤚🏻 SM ARTISTS BOOKED AND BUSY GOOD FOR US 😭😭😭 AND WHAT IS THIS WHO’S SM FANS??? THIS IS NOT WE, ONLY A FEW 😭😭 anon u gotta go see this in irl

this would be ideal but i don’t think it’ll work out very easily tbh maybe like how super junior have their own label then it may!

now we using paper companies???? jail party omg prison fc is in talks for some MAJOR transfers!! this is a reborn rich episode

SHUT UP THIS IS SO FUNNY RVWKHDWKHDKW LEE SOO MAN ALWAYS GEYS THE LAST LAUGH ONCE A SCAMMER ALWAYS A SCAMMER 😭😭😭😭

You're right, Hybe hops on every trend, they're not pioneers in anything except shitty unnecessary vocal processing

YEAHH the whole sm doing the 90’s theme with snsd, shinee, exo and implementing it in their groups and no one said anything until it was hybe time and suddenly it’s a trend <3 they started the auto tune trend i guess then 😭😭

Noooo exams stopping you from having fun once again. Doesn't your avocado uni know kpop acts barely come to Vancouver??? But I hope Baekhyun's world tour isn't just Korea, Japan, USA, maybe SEA and perhaps London, Berlin, Paris if SM is feeling more adventurous

exams always stop me form having fun but canada is currently freezing in snow so there never is fun 😭😭 NO BC THEY GOTTA KNOW ATP! ANOTHER UNI HERE HAS AN ARENA WHERE EXO CAME AND THEY KNOW! THEIR EXAMS ALWAYS HAVE A SUS DATE but they also had a cheating scandal so maybe avo uni is better <3 YEAAAH i think since baek is very outspoken he’ll def have a lot of places to tour in,, remembering the exodus era he’ll def go to europe! he’s got a fascination with london <3 idk about kai tho i rmr he got threatened w knives in london apparently

Please do not dance to Single Ladies in front of me, it triggers my fight or flight response 😭 /// No rice wine in my blood system, but lots of coffee, tea, bubble tea especially, and hot chocolate! Btw Baek the vegan spots in Seoul are banging!!! ❤

LMFAOOOO 😭😭😭

WATER !!!!! WATER !!!!! ASI ASI ASI HALA WATER !!!! are they??? omg anon start a food blog im about to drop a follow!!

Most Brits find posh accents silly and tbh sometimes they do sound ridiculous, but what can you do lmao. Posh people are on sight 🔪 since the class system is still very alive and present in the UK /// Mou vs Mbappe would be quite funny, I think both of them might lose their shit every 10 minutes 😭😭😭😭

AHHHHH what a fascinating place the UK is truly, do u guys mock them when u spot them,,, what about those girlies with concealer lips and the if you don’t know me i’m m to the b 😭😭 THEY DEF WOULD FBDNDB their strategy get their clash would need a desperate documentary

Have you won the lottery yet? Instead of dreaming about being rich I had another Hwa dream...... well that dream won't to come true and I think it's for the best aksjaushwjajjsjaja

see,, now,, a 5$ lottery is quite big for me ok! SO YES I HAD THE 5$ ONE! WAITING FOR A 48 MILLION ONE ACTUALLY!! WHAT DREAM PPPT PPTT RIGHT NOW ANON 🔫🔫

They're baby girling without knowing it lmao //// Also they're doing dirty blonde SO DIRTY WHYYYYY. I voted black to piss people off, grey deserves better as well

these all baby girls are dressed like manic pixie girls in romcoms 😭😭😭 WHAT THE FUCK THEY MEAN DIRTY BLOND IS HIS WORST?????? DO THEY NOT RMR WAVE ERA?????? WHAAAAT ATINYS HAVE NO MF TASTE ALL THE 1,432 OF THEM grey deserved the angst award tbh,, peak angst

also does this not look like they’re about to drive for mercedes in f1 😭😭

Ok London isn't that cold rn and Seonghwa probably warmed up while jogging, but goddd wtf. We've been blessed by the calves tho. And here.... the slippers lol /// I'm ready for more Kai serves! The wings huhu, I almost didn't notice he was half naked

when he posted those photos, my eyes went to his feet bc why is he barefoot in that nasty ass city come on 😭😭😭 they’re all peak london boys now 🤚🏻u think if hwa was from england he’d have a posh accent and live in the buckinghamshire area

Btw model, miss Tenelka has posted a new fic, I haven't read it yet, but my friend said it's model Hwa. AND I also had lavender oat milk latte and the same drink was mentioned in the fic, idk what to do with this info

MISS TENELKADJOWRITES DIDDDDD I READ ITTT IT WAS MODEL HWA DJWKDHWKDHSK U NEED TO READ IT!!!!!!! atp, are u miss tenelka in disguise 🤨 some psychic stuff sussy 🤨

Baek, what Wooyoung fencer AU, you need to focus on Yunho bestie 🤧😭 /// Snake Hwa agenda. Stop I was about to go to sleep at a respectable hour for a change, but HIM I'm devastated. How am I supposed to sleep

nO BC HEAR ME OUT ITS A FAMILY RIVALS TO LOVERS WHERE THEYRE BOTH SO MAD AND HE CHALLENGES THE YN ON A FENCING MATCH IN A ALL WHITE ROOM IN THEIR MEGA BIG ACADEMY AND THEYRE JUST ON THEIR WAY TO KILL EACH OTHER but guess who’s been in love this entire time <3

STOP I RMR THAT VIDEO 😭😭😭😭 A SNAKE AND A DRAGON DO U RMR THE SAN ANALYSIS 😭😭😭 THE GANGSTER

😭 //// And now some whiplash 🧍🏼‍♀️ - DV 💖

anon that was not a whiplash,, that was a whole crash what the hell 😭😭😭

PLEASE FHWKFHEK

WHAT 😭😭😭

i saw this and thought that matthew mcconaughey would be the perfect schumacher if they ever did a biopic on him

i think atz would go kinda crazy if this happened AND SO IT SHOULD NOT THANK U <3

[ruthdu]

This is a post about Sports

I am my Mother’s daughter and my Father’s son. I grew up doing ballet, religiously practicing the piano, and appreciating a detailed skincare regiment while playing rec soccer, going to basketball camp and watching sports. Sure, you can argue that my Chinese immigrant parents were very ambitious and “forced” me to participate in these activities when I was younger, but because of their stern suggestions, I became a dancer, I fell in love with music, I will always look like I’m 25 and I have a mild obsession with Sports.

If you’ve worked with me during basketball season, you know that I will be streaming the game on my computer in the production office or suggest going to a nearby bar to catch tip-off. If you’ve had the privilege of being a friend of mine during the Olympics, we will have never ending text message chains about the crazy triple toe-loop or how blurry Usain Bolt on television. If I’ve dated you during football season, you probably know that my very first poster that I put up in my room was of Troy Aikman. I was 5, barely understood English but I thought he was such a hearthrob.

I’m not very outspoken about my social, political and world views. My first presidential election was Obama and I didn’t quite understand the 2008 Recession until much later in life (I was 20 years old). Race was always an issue and I supported the occasional Tiger Mom articles on HuffPo, or essays about a HAPA and every once in awhile engaged in some Twitter conversations about “Yellow Fever” but it wasn���t until recently that there was truly a platform to be Chinese Born - American. That didn’t mean that I didn’t support racial justices in general, but it meant that I hid behind those big trendy topics. Of course, it wasn’t until we were in a disaster of a political situation where I even considered watching a Senate hearing nor cared about our local Congressmen / woman. With that in mind, these kind of public posts are far-in-between and very delicate for me. But after what I watched + experienced this weekend, I was compelled to share because it all coincided with Sports.

This past weekend I watched 20-year-old Naomi Osaka conquer and overtake tennis Queen Serena Williams, who I believed acted poorly against the (yes unfair) Umpire at the US Open Finals. I was severely disappointed in Serena, especially after learning so much about her journey to motherhood. I had a new found respect for Serena not only as a phenomenal athlete but also a Superwoman that overcame the most difficult time of her life. I sat there, jaws on the floor when Serena consistently bashed Carlos Ramos. I was disappointed, watching her take the argument even further with officials when all I wanted for her is to take that energy and refocus on the game. True athleticism is mental and sure, we cannot help the way we feel, ESPECIALLY when we are losing. But those athletes who can outplay and outlast, the “GOAT”s, the champions, should be able to take a few breaths and make a comeback.

I’m not saying that what Serena was fighting for wasn’t valid. YES, the umpire was probably intimidated that a strong black woman was yelling at him YES, he should have given her a warning and YES, I’m sure he’s been told many terrible things on the court without giving a penalty point but felt that he needed to keep his masculine power by ruling an unprecedented action. Even with all of that potential wrongsay, there’s a time and place to object to rules and there’s a time to suck-it-up and play the game.

I sat there and cried during the awards ceremony because Naomi Osaka apologized for winning. My tears were for her family who was so proud of her but knew there would be this heavy cloud of doubt over her for the years to come. I cried because I saw a part of my little sister in her, awkwardly holding the trophy and not sure if she was representing her country as well as she would have wanted. All I wanted is for her to feel joy, pride and strength. I cried even more when Serena told the crowd to stop booing because I knew that at that point, perhaps she felt that THIS was the repercussions of her actions. I love sports because I also love sportsmanship. Much like Serena thought that Carlos owed her an apology, I think Serena should apologize to Naomi for the bittersweet outcome of the tournament.

Naomi Osaka IS a champion. She played the best game of her life. She trained hard and she has that tunnel vision that transforms a player from great to the Best. I ask that you all take some time to learn more about Naomi Osaka. She’ll be on the tennis radar for years to come and I cannot wait to watch her play next.

This past weekend, I also witnessed the epic return of the greatest QB of all time. I claim this with extreme bias but am not alone in this statement, especially after his tremendous game on Sunday night. When Aaron Rodgers was carted off in the second quarter of the opening game vs. the (new and much improved) Chicago Bears, a little part of me died. I’ve been a Rodgers fan for years. He was the QB Hearthrob: insanely attractive, hilariously respectful and probably the best ice-cream eating companion. My adoration escalated when I started a diehard, bleeding-green Packers fan who claims he looks like a slightly petite version of Aaron. Last year’s collar-bone injury led to a sour fall season but made our relationship much stronger. There was a lot on the line this football season with Aaron’s return. When Aaron was lying on that field, grasping his left leg, it became deeply personal.

The Packers came back with a limping Aaron Rodgers and won the game 24-23. We yelled and screamed with joy. We drank tequila and celebrated. The cats (Starks and Jordy, named after former Packer players) were annoyed but we didn’t care. THIS was sports. THIS was athleticism at its best and even with the controversial hoopla of the NFL, THIS was football.

I understand why there was a boycott against the NFL. I know that Roger Goodell is a Trump supporter and I know that behind many of these massive teams are corporate millionaires who voted Red. The League made a decision this year that if players kneel during the national anthem that they would subject to fines which arguably means they are charging players fees against their freedom of speech. Yes, I do believe that this is a harsh rule, but I do believe it was a rule to take politics out of the game.

Last year was the only time I remembered watching the National Anthem in any regular season football game. It truly didn’t matter to me but it became such an issue that of course I “fell’ into the trap of curiosity. This year, I am not boycotting because I am watching football for the players. I am watching to see the unexpected comebacks, to see that crazy 75-yard run to the end zone, to see that near interception that nearly gave me a heart attack. I am watching not because I am supporting our idiot-president Trump, but because I respect the bellies of the defense linemen and the sprint of the wide receiver. I am watching because I believe in will power and strength of mind, which is how Aaron Rodgers came back ferociously, playing football with one good leg.

Remember when Kerri Strug won an Olympic Gold ‘96 even though she was severely injured? Did we protest the Olympics because there was probably some weird underage and illegal shit going on? Do we still support team USA even after the corporate probably knew the actions of their disgusting coach? The answer is YES, because we support the players. We support what they want to accomplish and what they’ve tried out their entire lives to accomplish. Yes they are millionaires and this is their “job” but I guarantee that if they had the choose between a massive paycut to play, most everyone would 100% choose the paycut. An athlete doesn’t just train their bodies 365 days a year for a big paycheck (that’s just the bonus) but talk to those former players who didn’t make the cut their third year, or the former player turned coaches of their local highschool - if they had a shot to play on the green, they would do it no question.

I will watch the NFL until the players decide not to play anymore. The game is changing and I’m happy to hear of new strict hit rules to the QB and new technology for player protection. I will yell and scream and jump in disappointed and joy and I will eventually earn that Rodgers jersey that I desperately want from my new Packer partner.

For those who actually read this post, thank you for time out of your busy day to do this. Why am I so passionate about Sports? “Ruth, you make movies! You sit in front of a computer all day long and you do budgets! And you write! Why do you care about sports?” I consider myself an athlete. I’ve been in competitive sports the majority of my life and I know what it feels like to lose. I used to rehearse 6-8 hours on weekends out in the hot sun, practically running close to 15-20 miles a day.

As a dancer, I trained like an athlete: slow push-ups, squats, abdominal conditioning, the whole damn thing. And in my now adult life, I go to challenging HIIT/ Boot Camp / Strength classes to make sure that I have the ability to survive a zombie apocalypse, or be fast enough to run to shelter during the Big One. I attribute my film career to my athletic training: play smart, play hard, follow the rules and always thank your teammates. These are skill sets that now engrained in me. So this is why I am passionate about sports: because its about survival, mind over matter and it’s about those you play the game with.

[micvhisms]

dear mother,         i’ve found the devil again. and he’s just as smart as                                                   before.     /     self-para,    iv.

                                                         DON’T  COME  HOME.

she  isn’t  there  when  he  gets  there.    but  he  is,     which  doesn’t  set  micah’s  stomach  at  ease  at  all.    he  stands  outside  micah’s  door,   tips  of  his  mouth  curled  down  in  a  familiar  frown.    he  doesn’t  look angry,    but  he  rarely  ever  did.   PREACHER MAN,    PREACHER  MAN,    how  does  a  child  run  from  the  devil  if  you  yourself  can’t  recognize  him?    no,    hyun-ki  was  always  good  at  playing  the  part  of  the  angel.   even  when  his wife  was  dazed  and  his  son  sported  broken  bones,    he  was  the  picture  of  innocence.  micah  doesn’t  think  it  was  so  much  that  no  one  saw;    no  one  wanted  to  see.   and  he  couldn’t  blame  them,     because  if  he  had  the  choice  of  ignoring  it  all,    wouldn’t  he?

                                                            ha.    if  only.

hyun-ki  leaves  when  someone  comes  down  the  hallway.     his  hand  just  a  hair’s  width  away  from  his  terrified  son,    he  draws  back  as  if  burned.     he  gives  valeria,    their  nosy  neighbor  from  two  doors  down,    a  smile  and  watches  her  until  she  walks  into  her apartment.    it  isn’t  until  she’s  locked  inside  that  he  looks  back  to  his  son,    whose  back  is  pressed  against  the  door  of  his  apartment,    SO  CLOSE  to  safety,    but  too  far  for  it  to  make  a  difference.        ❛  you  can’t  avoid  this  forever,    micah.     eventually,    you  have  to  stop  running.  ❜      he  leaves  then,   another  look  to  his  son,     as  if  their  history  was  a  normal  one,    and  micah  was  just  being  a  stubborn  child.     he  disappears  down  the  hall  without  another  word,    and  micah    ━━

        micah  runs  into  his  apartment,    and  promptly  empties  his  stomach.

                                     YEAH,    I’M  FINE.    JUST  SAW  A  MOUSE. 

the  third  time  micah  is  forced  to  face  his  father  is  just  four  days  later,     only  an  hour  after  micah  gets  home  from  hq.    he  really does  try  to  work  out  a  way  to  help  naomi  pay  her  dad  back  without  leaving  them  broke  and  homeless,    and  he  devotes  his  time  to  trying  to  figure  it  out.

the  doorbell  rings,     and  micah....    he  already  knows.   he  knows  who  it  is,    but  he  answers  anyway,     because  IT  WON’T  STOP.    it’s  been  nearly  six  months  since  his  father  starting  calling,    and  if  that  rejection  wasn’t  clear  enough,    if  a  restraining  order  isn’t  enough  to  keep  him  away,   then  not  answering  the  door  isn’t  going  to  do  shit.

he  walks  into  the  apartment  as  if  he  paid  for  it,    glancing  around  with  distaste.    the  byeon  clan  was  never  wealthy,    but  they’d  always  lived well,    considering  they  had  no  support  but  each  other.    they  would’ve  never  lived  in  such  a  small  apartment,    especially  with  four  people  living  there.    but  micah  tries  so  hard  not  to  be  anything  like  his  dad,     and  he  likes  the  home  he’d  made  here.    he  likes  it,     and  the  sight  of  his  dad  standing  in  it  makes  him  sick.

but  nothing  feels  as  bad  as  those  eyes  falling  back  on  him.    with  no  audience  around  to  make  him  behave,     hyun-ki’s  gaze  is  sharp    &    unforgiving.     micah’s  throat  feels  dry,     and  his  heart  pounds  as  if  it  plans to  bust  out  of  his  chest,    but  he  holds  his  father’s  gaze.   he’s  not  a  kid  anymore.    he  can’t  be  afraid  to  stand  up  for  himself.     if  his  demons  are  in  front  of  him,    what  can  he  do  but  face  them?

❛  you’re  still  ignoring  my  calls.  ❜       his  frown  is  deep  and  disappointed.    it  shouldn’t  mean  shit,    but  it  makes  micah  feel  low  and  worthless.    just  the  way  it  used  to.    it’s a  look  his  father  has  mastered  over  years  of  practice,    and  the  feeling  of  it  never  quite  changes.     ❛  how  long  do  you  plan  on  acting  like  a  child,    micah?    don’t  you  have  the  decency  to  at  least  hear  what  i  have  to  say?  ❜           

with  his  arms  crossed  over  his  chest,    micah  tries  to  emulate  the  glare  he’s  so  used  to  giving  julian.    except  julian  has  never  hurt  micah;    he’s  never  been  more  than  a  minor  annoyance.    the  two  couldn’t  be  more  different,    no  matter  how  much  micah  hates  them  both.     ❛  why  should  i?   i  did  my  time  dealing  with  you.  ❜        

❛  i  came  all  this  way ━━   ❜

❛  i  didn’t  ASK  YOU  TO   ━━    ❜     the  look  on  his  father’s  face  could  settle  the  realms  of  hell,     if  he  so  pleased.    it  isn’t  nearly  as  thunderous  as  what  micah’s  used  to,    but  the  effect  is  the  same.     despite  his  bet  efforts,    micah’s  eyes  dart  away  for  a  moment.

❛  don’t  interrupt  me,    micah.    it’s  rude.    i  raised  you  better  than  that.  ❜

                                                         you didn’t.

there’s  a  long  silence,    and  micah  suddenly  misses  the  non-stop  noise  that  usually  fills  the  apartment.     naomi,     talking  and  crying  about  absolutely  nothing,     the  twins,   screaming  and  doing  all  they  could  to  make  life  harder  for  their  mother.    even  lana,    and  all  of  her  crazy.    anything  was  better  than  this.     ❛  how’s  cristian?  ❜        hyun-ki’s  lips  twitch  into  a  small  smile,    as  if  taking  pleasure  in  the  way  micah’s  head  snaps  back  to  him.    the  words  are  casual,    low  and  languid,     even  if  the  meaning  is  anything  but.       ❛  he  did  come  here  with  you,    didn’t  he?    it’s  been  a  long  time   since  i  last  saw  him.  ❜        cristian’d   never  gone  over  micah’s  house  back  then.    it  was  always  the  other  way  around,    even  before  micah  realized  he  was  living  with  a  monster  and  a  zombie.     his  dad  hadn’t   seen  cristian  since  micah  was  about  nine and  he  was  dropping  him   off  to  spend  the  weekend  with  the  ramos’.     not  long  after  micah’s  fourteenth  birthday,    he  was  careful  to  never  even  mention  cristian  around  his  parents.    even  if  they  were  well  aware  of  where  micah  was    (    when  they  cared  enough  to  notice    )    he’d  held  onto  the  hope  that  maybe  they’d  forgotten  about  cristian.     micah  would’ve  never  forgiven  himself  if  cristian  got  hurt  because  of  him.

he  shook  his  head  slowly,    glaring  at  his  father.     ❛  don’t.    don’t  bring  him  into  this.  ❜  

the  smug  smile  fades,    and  hyun-ki  stares  down  at  his  son  in  thinly  veiled  disgust,    and  micah  already  knows  where  this  is  going.     ❛  you’ve  always  loved  him  more  than  your  own  family.    i  was  hoping  you  would  have  grown  out  of  this  by  now,    micah,    it’s  embarrassing.  ❜         it  isn’t  a  new  conversation.     but  it’s  always  been  one  thing  micah  truly  didn’t  give  a shit  about.     whether  it’s  a  knock  on  micah’s  sexuality  or  his  loyalty  to  cristian,    or  both,    it   never  changes  the  fact  that  micah's  defiant.     it  only  serves  to  piss  the  man  off  more  to  know  that  he  can’t  control  everything,   but  it's  a  small  victory  for  micah.

arms  falling  to  his  side,    micah  glances  at  the  door  behind  hyun-ki.    all  he  can  do  was  hope  naomi  doesn’t  come  home  any  time  soon.    he  looks  back  to  his  father,    anxious  to  have  this  visit  end  sooner  than  later.    ❛  what  do  you  want?  ❜  

he  doesn’t  know  why  he  asked.     he  already  knows,     even  before  hyun-ki  announces  that,    ❛  you  need  to  come  home.    micah,  ❜    he  adds  before  micah  could  say  anything,    ❛  your  mother  is  dying.  ❜        

that   ━━  micah  isn’t  expecting  that.    his  eyes  trace  his  father’s  face,   looking  for  any  sign  of  a  lie.    he  wants  so  badly  for  it  to  be  an  elaborate  ruse,    another  trick  to  get  micah  to  forgive  and  forget  again.     but  it  isn’t.    hyun-ki’s   eyes  are  as  honest  as  they’ve  ever  been.    ❛  how?  ❜    no.  not  how.    ❛  what did you do?  ❜        as  much  as  micah  despises  his  parents,    his  mother  was  never  bad  to  him.    she  was  negligent,    at  best,    but  when  she  was  there,    she  was  everything  he  needed.     warm  and  soft,    a  kiss  ghosting   across  his  forehead  as  he  fell  asleep,     a  strong  force  between  him  and  his  father.    because  as  cruel  as  the  man  is,    he’s  always  loved  her  too  much  to  hurt  her.    at  least,    he  DID.   but  it’s  been  four  years  since  micah  left;    there’s  no  reason  to  believe  he  hasn’t  started  taking  it  out  on  elodie.    his  hands  clench  into  fists,     and  he  grits  his  teeth.    ❛  WHAT DID YOU D O ?  ❜        

his  father  shakes  his  head.    ❛  she’s  sick,    micah.    she  hasn’t  taken  care  of  herself  in  years.   it’s  been  too  long.     her  body  is  shutting  down.  ❜    it  feels  like  a  bullshit  answer.    like   the  EASY  one.    it’s  better  to  blame  it  on  his  sick  wife  than  on  himself.    ❛  i  understand  if  you  have  your  problems  with  me,     micah,    but  she’s  your  mother.     surely,    you  want  to  be  there  in  her  last  days.  ❜    

no.      no.

when  micah  doesn’t  answer,     hyun-ki.... changes.    it’s  a  subtle  shift:    his  eyes  seem  colder,    calculative.    his  head  tips  to  the  side,   and  he  stares  at  micah  as  if  he’s  staring  right  through  him.      ❛  and  the  children  that  live  here?  ❜     micah’s  heart  STOPS.   of  all  of  the  things  hyun-ki  could’ve  said,     nothing  terrifies  him  as  much  as  the  idea  of  his  father  knowing  about  the  twins.    but  it  makes  sense,    doesn’t  it?    his  father  somehow  knows  where  he  lives.    god,    he  knows  where  he  works.     the  latter  can  almost  be  excused.    since  the  release  of  the  movie,    they’ve  been  popular.    it  wouldn’t  be  hard  to  find  out  where  they  work.    but  micah  has  made  sure  their  address  was  always  kept  secret,    for  this  very  reason.    for  his  own  safety,    for  naomi’s,    but  most  of  all,    for  the twins.     ava  and  noah,    who  his  father  knows  about.    his  reaction  must  be  enough   to  encourage  hyun-ki,    because  he  keeps  going,    as  if  micah  doesn’t  feel  sick.    or  maybe  because.      ❛  wouldn’t  you  want  them  to  return  home  if  it  were  their  mother?  ❜     stop.      ❛  what’s  her  name.... naomi,    right?  ❜       please.      ❛  you  aren’t  setting  a  good  example  for  them.     perhaps  i  should  talk  to  this  roommate  of  yours.    i’m  sure  she’ll  understand.  ❜

❛  no.  ❜       micah’s  voice  is  quiet,    nearly  inaudible.     if  his  father  hears  it,    he  gives  no  indication.

❛  i  can  wait  until  she  gets  home.    or  i  can  come  back  later.  ❜

❛  don’t.  ❜     quieter.

❛  you   realize  that  now,   don’t  you?    i  can  always  come  back.    as  far  as  you  run,    you  are  my  son.    and  i  can  always  find  you.  ❜     micah’s   head  drops,     and  his  shoulders  sag  as  he  stares  at  the  ground,    willing  everything  back.   the  fear,    the  hatred,    the  desire  to  hide,    the  desire  to  cry.    a  cold  hand  rests  on  his  cheek,    and  micah  knows  he  can’t  win  here.    ❛  it’s  in  the  best  interests  of  yourself,    the  children,    and  all  of  your  friends  to  stop  this  rebellious  act  and  come  home.  ❜

micah  tries  to  breathe.    he  tries  so  hard,    but  it’s  wet,    shuddering,    and  shallow.     his  lungs  are  filled  with  water,      as  if  he’s  a  dam  just  on  the  verge  of  breaking.    and  he  is.    at  least,    he  feels  like  it.     ❛  please,  ❜    he  pleads  again,    voice   shaking.    his  entire  body   is  trembling,    but  he  feels  no  tears.    slowly,    he’s  starting  to  feel  nothing. 

❛  we   can   work   the  restraining  order  out,    of  course.    my  lawyer  has  already  agreed  to  talk  to  the  judge.  ❜    the  same  lawyer  that  made  sure  hyun-ki  never  spent  a  second  in  a  jail  cell,    despite  how  many  times  he  was  accused  of  abuse.     ❛  and,    to  compensate  naomi  for  your  inconvenience,    i’ll  pay  your  half  of  the  rent  every  month  that  you’re  gone.  ❜     every  MONTH.    as  if  elodie  has  years  left.    in  all  likeliness,    she  does.     but  what’s  the  point  in  arguing?    the  use  of  naomi’s  name  is  deliberate.    it’s  a  quiet  reminder  that  i  know  about  her,    and  i  know  where  she  lives.    if  i  can  get  to  you,    what  do  you  imagine  i  can  do  to  her?    it’s  a  threat,    not  just  to  naomi  or  the  twins.    it’s  to  cristian,    and  ashley,    and  every  other  mysterybuster.   

(    there  was  once  a  reason  that  micah  kept  his  distance.    somewhere  along  the  way,    he’d  forgotten.     now,     he  remembers.    his  father  has  always  been  good  at  mind  games.     he’s  always  been  a  master  of  seeing  what  it  takes  to  get  to  his  son,    and  pushing  every  single  button  he  needs  to  in  order  to  get  his  way.    micah  stayed  away  so  that  they  could  never  be  used  against him.     inevitably,    he  failed.    )

❛  i’ll  come  back  to  pick  you  up  tonight,    micah.  ❜

❛ please...  ❜     it’s  a  last  attempt   at  saving  himself.    it  means  nothing.    they  both  know  he’s  lost,    even  before  his  dad  stepped  through  that  door.

when  hyun-ki  speaks  again,  his  voice  is  tender  and  loving.     the  way  he  genuinely  sounded,    some  many,    many   lives  ago.     ❛  your  mother  will  be  so  happy  to  hear  that  you’re  coming  home.    you  are  coming  home,    aren’t  you?  ❜     

                                          DON’T  WORRY,    I  TOOK  CARE  OF  IT.

somewhere  across  the  city,    someone  has  their  first  kiss.    the  dog  in  the  apartment  upstairs  barks,    and  a  siren  wails  as  a  fire  truck  passes  by.    the  sky  falls  dark,    and  micah.... breathes.

                                                           ❛  yes,     father.  ❜    

dear mother,        

     i’m  sorry  to  say  i  lied,    and  the  devil  has  played  me  again. 

                         it  seems  he’d  never  left  to  begin  with.

[mndcvntrvl]

02 | The Weekend [part i.]

you ready bih? @rebellesixx (i pray this chapter is decent bc omg)

FRIDAY, APRIL 3RD

The sweet smell of coffee floated around me. Colombian grinded beans wafted into my nose, causing me to wrinkle up my face. I let my eyes follow the bodies of people walking passed me through the Plexiglas. Sunlight seeped right in front of my table in a crooked line—catching my attention whenever Maria would step in it.

“Hey,” I called towards her. Her tiny body stopped and turned towards me with look of mischief. Those big, doll-like eyes looked dead at me, causing me to smile.

“Mama,” she asked, her hands clapped as she did so.

I smiled and waved her back towards our table. “Don’t walk around without me,” I told her, grabbing her hand and pulling into my lap.

We had gotten a booth. The tables around us weren’t suitable for children. High tops with small black, metal legs. But the booths were wide and roomy, enough for me to sit Maria in my lap or next to me if she got to grumpy.

A chime sounded to my right—eyes locked on the person. A smile littered their face as I watched them catch me cowering away behind my hand. When they arrived to our booth, they picked Maria up out of my lap.

“And how is my favorite princess?”

Nadia had wanted to meet up somewhere after last week’s mess. With me being at work and picking up Maria from daycare, and her working at the salon all the time, we had no time except for today. Even then, it would be cut short because Chaos wanted to see his niece and talk to me, again.

Maria gave her a babbled answer before saying, “princey!”

We laughed in unison.

“You been havin’ a good week,” she asked me, sitting down in front of me. Her hair had gotten longer so she struggled to keep her curls out of Maria’s face as she maneuvered and scooted into her seat.

I sighed, rolling my eyes with puckered lips. “Let’s talk about how I’m goin’ to New York in the next five hours.”

“Talia!” Maria jumped at her voice, causing us both to laugh before Nadia ranted on. “Didn’t you just get over one life crisis already? The hell you goin’ over there for?”

“Well excuse the hell outta’ me, I see somebody’s in need of some coffee,” I scrunched up my face as I handed her a menu lying next to me. Her eyes glared at me before she snatched it and began to scan through it. With a childish grin, I pointed at new flavor on the menu. “Try the Belize Cappuccino.”

Nadia tried her hardest not to roll her eyes and give me a scowl as she started to take interest in the tropical advertisement of the drink, but soon failing when she finally looked at me. It never failed; trying to distract her is about the easiest thing to do. Between her and Maria I believe she had the quickest attention span of a fly, which is probably why she’s always trying ‘pay attention’. It never works though. Her eyes scanned mine; I busted out in a slight cackle.

“You not one ounce of shit,” Nadia noted, pointing her neon pink acrylic at me. I ceased my laughter, watching her through tear filled eyes as she gave me her infamous death glare.

“Remind me to do this more often.” I rubbed my eyes and took a glance at my phone. A text from my dad popped up—something unlike him.

“Why you makin’ that face,” at the sound of her question I looked up.

“Huh? Oh,” I shook my head and replied,

“Nah, my dad texted me—“she cut me off.

“Mr. Ramos can text?!”

“It’s Mr. Williams, and yes,” I answered, shaking my head once more. “It’s just an abnormal thing for him to do.”

“He must be excited to see you and the little one, ya know?”

I paused. My eyes never leaving my phone.

“Weeelllll about that…”

When I finally grew the courage to look at her, the face she gave me was priceless. Mouth agape, eyes wide—she gave Maria a look over before doing a double take at the both of us.

“You aren’t taking her? Uh,” she smacked her lips, “may I ask for the fuck why?”

“Stop cussin’ in front of my baby.”

She sucked her teeth, “answer the question Talia.”

I sighed before putting my phone back on the table. A waitress came to our table, my eyes pleading with her to stay just for a while—anything to distract Nadia.

“My I get your order ma’am,” the waitress asked her, pulling out her notepad. She was a cute girl, shorter than me with tawny skin and curly hair. “We have two new flavors, the Belize and Hawaiian Cappuccino.”

Nadia glared at me before giving the waitress a warm smile. “Uhm, I’d like to try the Belize Cappuccino please, hold the whip cream,” she finished, handing her the menu. When the waitress walked away, her eyes were back on me. “Now explain.”

“Chaos wanted to watch her this week, but you know how day care is set up and all that, soo I told him he could watch her for the weekend,” I explained, wincing up my face as if it would help me from any of her backlash.

“Does he know you’re goin’ to New York? A whole thirty billion miles away?”

“It is not that far, and he’s her uncle I’m pretty sure he can handle it.”

“Has even taken care of kids before?”

I sighed. “How would I know Nadia? All I know is that I’m trusting him with his niece for two whole days.”

“And you see no problem in that?”

“He said he was free this weekend, Nadia.”

“The streets don’t know what bein’ free for the weekend is,” I had to pause and gather myself when I heard that come out of her mouth because she was serious. Legit serious. It was taking everything in me to not fall out on the floor.

“You a trip,” I shook my head, pointing my index at her. “Dad wants me to come up there for the weekend and help someone’s PR team come up with some designs for some merch.”

“Extra guap?”

I nodded, taking a sip out of my latte. “I don’t know who it is tho’, that’s what’s killin’ me. Like how am I supposed to have an idea of what I wanna do if I don’t know who it is?”

 “It could be because he don’t know himself.”

“Nadia, this is my father we’re talkin’ about.”

She paused before nodding her head. “True.”

“See,” I pointed out. “I just want everything to go smoothly and quickly. My baby gon’ be all by herself,” I pouted, looking over a day-dreaming Maria.

She looked so much like Christian it was downright disgusting. It was like he chewed her up and spit her out, ugh, I hated it. Those same, droopy lips and doll-like eyes paired along with those bushy eyebrows—it was like looking at his twin. They both even have this weird birthmark right above their bellybutton and the same two beauty marks on their ankles.

I miss him so much, I thought to myself.

“You could’ve just took her with you, but,” she shrugged her shoulders and flipped her hair over her shoulders. With wide eyes, she smashed her lips together and looked down at the table.  

“You shady ass,” I laughed, picking up a wadded up napkin and throwing it at her.

She scrunched her face and threw it back at me. With a sly smirk, she looked at my phone before asking,

“Now it would make sense if it was because of Mister Black Pyramid himself, because honey chile’,” she poked out her lips and started snapping.

“Snap,” Maria asks, snapping out of the little day-dream she was in. Nadia nods.

“Mhm, snap ‘cause yo mama bouta’ get that pip—“I cut her off by throwing more wadded up napkins at her.

“Shh! You corruptin’ my baby,” I rushed out in a whisper, looking around the quiet café before turning back to her with a scowl. “It’s not even like that, oh mah’ god, Nadia it was a year ago—it wasn’t even like that!”

“But he was diggin’ you,” she replied, smugly, her nails tapped against the cherry wood table as her lips smashed together.

“And who’s to say he wasn’t? But nothin’ happened so…”

“Now let’s be honest if you was single you woulda’ been bouncin’ all—“

“And here is your Belize Cappuccino miss,” the waitress caught us both off guard as she plopped the giant blue glass down in front of Nadia.

“Uh,” astonished at the amount of whipped cream it had, Nadia nodded at the waitress uttering a, “thanks,” before waiting for her to walk away.

“Do you swallow or spit,” I asked, my lips forming a coy smirk.

Her eyes rose from the cup to meet mine—her eyebrows raised as her mouth opened. She pulled her head back and placed a hand on her chest before giving me the same smirk back.

“Hasn’t Chris asked you that already?”

“See this what we not gonna do,” I mused, grabbing my purse. “You know good and well I don’t see anybody like that.”

She rolled her eyes and took a sip of her drink. “But if that right person comes along then you betta’ hop on it,” she said in between sips of her drink.

“Can I at least get over Christian first,” I asked, “I can’t just hop on to someone like that, and you know that.

“I’m not sayin’ it like that, I just wanna see you happy.” She pointed at Maria. “She makes you happy, no?”

“Duh, it’s my child.” I rolled my eyes. “Of course she makes me happy.”

“Okay, well I wanna see you happy with someone else besides her,” she said, shifting Maria in her lap as though she were heavy.

“I wanna be happy period,” I replied. I scooted towards the end of the booth, rising from my seated position, stretching. “Listen, I know you’re lookin’ out for me, but I got some things to get through first, okay?”

“You know I want you to be happy, no matter what.”

“I know. Now gimme my child so I can head to this old man’s house.”

 The ride over to Chaos’ wasn’t too long. He said he had moved to a new area two years ago. The scenery wasn’t its usual tenet buildings and corner stores but more elaborate fresh markets and name-brand gas stations. Especially the people who lived here—white, but middle class white, like the ones who could afford to shop at Target and not get the off brand things.

His house was over in Glen Lake, a condominium with houses that could have well been mansions. He told me he lived on Jordan Street, way far in the back—and when he said way far back, he really meant it.

It wasn't a mansion, or a penthouse. But a traditional styled home, like one you'd see off of TV.

The exterior of the house alone held many architectural details, giving it this cozy facade but inside it was the total opposite. Its rock stone material was a beige color while the roof was bluish-grey.

From here you could see the blue curtains draped over the windows, making it impossible to see inside and beside the house was an attached garage. Chaos wasn’t subtle with his cars, he had them all out to see—even the fancy ones he knew he wouldn’t dare drive.

I had texted him that I was parked out front. His only response was to, ‘come on in’.

But I was nervous. It had been awhile since I had walked inside of his home. Yeah it was three years ago in a different area, when we were all in a different space in our lives, but now it just gives me butterflies. Here I am, with his niece walking up to his brand new house with a brand new batch of possibilities waiting for me on the other side of the door.

That’s when I can hear Christian in the back of head saying, “you’ll live, now stop bein’ scary and go do it.”

I stood at the door with a sleeping Maria in my hands. Her sleeping bag and baby bag were in both of my hands; my only option was to ring his doorbell. After a few minutes of not getting a response, I believe my finger permanently stayed on his doorbell until I got a very loud, “hold on! Shit!”

“Who the fu—“lo and behold, the man himself snatches the door open, his face reading irritation until he drops his gaze to the sleeping baby in my arms. “Oh shit,” he whispers, leaning down and taking her out of my arms. “Why you ain’t just call me?”

I nodded down to the bags in my hand, then pointing at Maria. “What could I have grabbed my phone with, my toes?”

He sucked his teeth. “You still mean.” He noted. He stepped to the side, opening the door more. “Come in, the couch is right behind me. You can put all that shit on there.”

I did as he said. Looking around, I noticed the place was really neat and organized—something out of character for Chaos, but then again, it’s been a few since I’ve last seen him.

“The place looks nice,” I complimented, hearing a door close behind me, I turned around and smiled up at him. “The black and gold color scheme suits you.”

“The black and gold color scheme really suits you,” he flipped imaginary hair over his shoulder as he mimicked me, making me flip him off. It only fueled the fire in which was indeed, Chaos. “What else are you gonna tell me? My beard brings out the color in my eyes?”

I cocked my head to the side, squinting my eyes at him. “Well if you trimmed it a lil’ on the sides—“

“Kitchen. Go, now.”

“What about Maria? Lay her down on the couch,” I said, reaching my hands out for her. “Gimme.”

After I laid her down, the walk to his kitchen was quick. It was the room over from the living room we were in. Victorian like drapes hung from the grand window in front of the sink. In the middle was the island, black marble sat atop with gold flecks in it. The cabinets were all matte black with gold handles and knobs. Chaos had positioned himself near the sink, back against it with his legs in front of him.

“You hungry?”

I shook my head, sitting on the barstool adjacent to the island. “No, we ate before we came, but thank you. Now what is it that we so desperately need to talk about?”

“Why you say it like that?” he asked, leaning back more to place his elbows on the counter. “I just wanted to know where you gon’ be at, damn, I can’t eem’ do that?”

I laughed, looking down at my hands. “Nah, I thought it was gon’ be somethin’ serious, but my father wants to see me.”

“And you not takin’ lil bit?”

For whatever reason I couldn’t tell him that my father’s only seen pictures of her. Or gotten the occasional Face Time and one on one with her. Nadia doesn’t even know that and she’s the one who knows everything; even before I know it. Plus I already have enough explaining to do when I get over there, I didn’t feel like doing it now.

“No,” I muttered, leaning forward in my chair. “I’m gonna be busy… as well as he is, so there’d be no time, really.”

“So you tellin’ me…” he started, pushing himself off of the counter all while walking over to me. “Yo daddy ain’t go nobody, family, or nothin’ to watch her while you there n’ shit?”

“Do you not wanna watch her?”

“Now did I say that? Nah I was just askin’ ‘cause I know he’d probably wanna spend time wit’ his granddaughter. Ain’t you got some family up there too?”

“Just my father and his mom. So nah, because she lives all the way in Long Island, plus it would just be a hassle to do multiple things at once and watch her.”

“So you just goin’ up there for the weekend? No loungin’ wit Robyn or nun’?”

Shaking my head at his Robyn comment, I let out a chuckle and placed my hands on the counter.

“One, Robyn is not at all in New York. She’s doing something with Puma this month so she’s across the country. And two, yes, just for the weekend to work on some merchandise for this celebrity, probably some simple graphics and sketches. Before you ask, no, I don’t know,” I finished, placing my hands together and bringing them closer to my chest.

“Okay… You excited to go? See ya peeps’ n’ shit.” he raised an eyebrow as he drummed his fingers on the counter, causing me to narrow my eyes at his fingers; an action that made him slowly stop.

“Eh, it’s just for work so I can’t be overly excited, ya know? Not like I’m gonna be goin’ out n’ shit,” I unclasped my hands to wave one off in the air before intertwining them back together. “If that’s all you wanted to know then… anything else you wanna talk about?”

Our eye contact was very sporadic, it would break and rejoice. In this one moment, we rejoiced, catching the looks of nervousness and nostalgia all in one before breaking it again.

“You seein’ anybody?”

When I tell you I almost lost a lung in this man’s kitchen, I was hacking away. I’m pretty sure I scared him, only because he got me a glass of water and damn near forced me to drink it all until I calmed down.

As I regulated my breathing, I raised an eyebrow at him. “Where the hell did that question come from?”

“It was just a question, I ain’t mean anything by it.”

“Well…” I hesitated. For the life of me I don’t why I did. I bit my bottom lip and shook my head. “No, I haven’t really been in the head space to even think about anyone else.”

I miss my baby. Three years without him feels like it’s been thirty. I get so wrapped up in my thoughts about him that I can’t seem to think about anybody else. If I’m not thinking about him, it’s Maria, and if not her, the possibility of them being together in this sad, depressive fantasy I always have of him actually being here.

In my hesitation, my mind raced a mile of minute. The question being bestowed upon me made me feel some type of way. One, I didn’t know where the question could be coming from. It could have been coming from a curious state or one trying to barge into my life. And two, coming from my lover’s brother, it makes me feel like I’m being ridiculed for even thinking about somebody else.

“So you haven’t even tried to find somebody,” he asked, toying with the empty glass I left on the counter. “Not even a date?”

“Where is all of this comin’ from Chaos? No… I still catch myself wanting to text him when he’s coming over for movie night, for Christ sakes. How am I gonna even have the time to go on a date when I’m too busy watching a child? Do you hear how dumb you sound when you ask that question,” I took in a deep breath when I realized how fast I was talking. It didn’t hit me that I had started to tear up, until I wiped at my left eye and saw a wet mark on my index.

I hadn’t realized I wasn’t looking at him either; my hands were in my gaze until I forced myself to stare at him.

His hands were up in a defensive state as he shook his head. “I was just askin’ lil bit, I ain’t mean to make you upset or nun’.”

I shook my head and swiped a hand down my face, all I could do was sigh and close my eyes for a second before popping them back open.

“Listen,” I said, “it’s not your fault… I’m sorry for calling you dumb. I’m just going through some things right now.”

“You know you can always talk to me.” He opened his arms. “Now c’mere, you big ass baby.”

“I ain’t no baby,” I retorted. I rose from the barstool, and walked over to him before getting engulfed in his long arms. “Let me go kiss my baby goodbye, I gotta go get my stuff.”

  I had never been in my apartment by myself for this long. Maria was either at day-care or Nadia’s around this time. I was usually at work, getting ready to go on my lunch break with this girl named Paula. She had recently transferred from a graphics company from Minnesota and instantly fit right in. It had only been a week or so before we introduced ourselves and by the next week, we had established lunch dates together.

After that I’d head back to work for three more hours. Probably finishing up a web design or doing some clothing mock-ups for a local business.

And still—that sounds way better than sitting in my apartment until one o’clock.

When I got in, I knocked right out. I mean sprawled out on my couch, legs all over the place with my head hanging halfway off for a good hour. Still, I woke up and realized I had two more hours to spare so in good efforts to not end up in a rut, I pulled out my laptop and opened up Photoshop and Illustrator.

When I initially started working with the thought of being a graphic designer, I always thought of it to be an odd job. Especially with few women in the field, it made me question it even more. But as I got older, I grew to have a love for computers and art. Problem: I couldn’t draw; but I took a summer course my junior year of high school on Graphic Communications and got taught the true meaning of being a graphic designer.

With months of practicing and training, by the time I was sixteen I had a certification in three Adobe Programs: Photoshop, Illustrator, and InDesign. My first ever job in graphics was working at this rinky dink store in lower east Manhattan called Dan’s Shirts where you could get anything design you wanted on a shirt; literally. If I wasn’t making the designs, I was screen-printing them all. Once I hit the age of eighteen, I was working over in Brooklyn with a guy who made banners and signs; way more money coming in on that end. Still, I did side jobs for extra cash. Making flyers for parties, covers for mixtapes—I wasn’t well known, but I still was doing something I enjoyed.

Now I have a career out of it. I don’t have to hustle anymore to make ends meet. The life I have now is something I didn’t think I’d ever have when I was younger.

I didn’t think I’d even get this far when Christian disappeared.

So I thank the Lord everyday for blessing me with Maria because without her I wouldn’t be here nor busting my ass to provide her better life.

Are you proud of me? I thought to myself as I allowed my eyes to get adjusted to the bright screen.

My censor moved and clicked around, looking for files hidden in folders I hadn’t opened in weeks. When the name loverboy popped up, I clicked on it hastily. When it opened, five documents popped into Photoshop, each still the same as I left them.

Christian would let me practice my photography skills on him sometimes. It could be something as simple as an innocent selfie, or a full blown photo shoot at times. This particular set of photos was a photo shoot I had done with him in this vintage Cadillac… right before he went missing.

When he was still here, he said he wanted me to make him, “look like a Calvin Klein model.” So I let him pick where he wanted to be shot at and when we arrived at that car lot, I looked over at him with a skeptical look, asking him, “you wanna shoot… here?” It was in that moment I had never seen him so sure of something in his life.

We had only gotten up to five photos because it started raining. So I had no other photos to choose from nor edit—then he went missing. And the rest is history, until I catch myself staring at them and realizing how much he really meant to me.

I closed out the document.

Before I could start looking for old projects to work on, my phone dinged, causing me to dig it out of my pocket and look at it.

My eyes squinted at the unknown number. A chill ran down my spine as I looked around my dim living room. Only light on was the light coming from my kitchen above my stove. Other than that, my living room was only receiving light from the open blinds.

My hands were trembling as I shut my laptop and ran into my room. I don’t think I had even given myself time to breathe until I jumped square in the middle of my bed with my pocket knife in my hand.

I gripped my pocket knife tighter against my chest. My knees were pulled to my chest as I looked around my room nervously. It was like all of my senses were on ten; my ears were picking up on cars that probably weren’t even in front of my complex. Everything I touched felt ten times more real than what it was—I couldn’t process a single thought.

I didn’t even get a chance to send a second text.

“Oh hell no…” I mumbled, screenshoting the text thread before deleting it all together. My body shook, hands shaking as I tried to dial Nadia’s number before giving up with a cry of distress. Instead I just sent her the screen shots and prayed she’d respond telling me she was playing around with me or some shit.

My endless banging never ceased. The outside of my fist started to ache and turn beet red, but I never let up. I was in such a daze I had no idea how I even ended up back in front of this very door—but I knew I had a mission to plan and I needed answers.

“Yo, aye hol’ up—“his voice came from the other end until he snatched the door open. “Lil’ bit? Why you bac—“

I pushed right past him. Tunnel vision clouded me. All of my sensibilities and common sense had left an hour ago. Endless possibilities of murder and screaming filled every nerve in my body until I was forced to face it.

“Talia,” his voice rang in my ear, I could feel his hand touch my elbow.

I turned around to face him. The look of discomfort and confusion wiped across his face. His eyebrows were furrowed as he toyed with his bottom lip with his teeth, three wrinkles found there place on his forehead.

“Where is he Chris?”

My lips snarled up as he looked taken back.

“Who—wha—where is who?” he asked, scrunching up his face and shaking his head.

Snatching my phone from my back pocket, I unlocked it and shoved it right in his hands.

“Where the hell is he and don’t lie to me,” enclosing the space between us, I looked up at him and watched as his eyes scanned the thread. “Chris!”

“What?!” He yelled. His eyes scanned the thread once more as he stuck my phone back out to me. “I… I don’t know what to tell you Talia, that could be anybody.”

I shook my head, snatching my phone away from him “Oh shut the fuck up wit’ that lame ass excuse!”

“Who you getting’ buck wit’?” he asked, “’cause I know you ain’t ‘bout to act an ass while your child is here.”

In that moment, my eyes snapped over to the flat screen television flashing bright lights. Some kids show was on; but my eyes landed on Maria sitting in the middle of the floor surrounded by her toys—lost in the world of colors and shapes.

“Now we can take this in the kitchen.” He pointed at Maria. “See her? Ion’t think you want her to see you like that.”

“Ion’t think you wanna see what the hell is gon’ happen if you don’t tell me what the hell is goin’ on.” I cautioned. “Who else knows about him being missing Chris? Because as far as I know it’s only a few who really do.”

With a look over to Maria, Chaos grabbed my elbow and forced me into the kitchen with him. Upon entering, he roughly tore his hand away before placing a hand on my shoulder and shoving me towards the island.

With my left hand, I tore his hand off of me and took a step away.

“Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

“Crazy?” I paused, gathering myself before I said anything stupid. “I got some random ass person stalkin’ me and tellin’ me Christian’s alive and you got the fuckin’ audacity my nigga to say that to me right now?” I asked, “Do you know how crazy you sound right now?”

He rolled his eyes, mashing his lips together. “Talia that’s not the point, you takin’ it—“I cut him off.

“I ain’t takin’ nothin’ out of context Chris, facts is facts, and the fact is that someone is lyin’ to me!”

“Who?” he yelled. “You ain’t think I’m wonderin’ where this shit comin’ from too?”

“You sure as hell ain’t actin’ like it!”

“If I knew who this was, my brother woulda’ been back by now,” he smacked his hands on the counter. “Stop makin’ it seem like you the only one lost, ‘cause I don’t know shit either!”

I paused. Speechless—I had nothing left to say. My anger had gotten the best of me and it resulted in me not thinking clearly on what exactly I wanted to say.

“See?” he pointed at me. “Jumpin’ to conclusions n’ shit, stop doin’ that shit.”

“How Chris?” I retorted back, banging my fist on the counter. “One minute I’m chillin’ on my couch and the next I’m getting’ told my boyfriend is still alive and that I’m basically bein’ lied too, now c’mon, what you want me to do? Be rational? ‘Cause being rational ain’t getting’ me nowhere, now is it?”

“Ain’t nobody sayin’ you gotta do anything, but stop thinkin’ everybody know what’s goin’ on.”

“We were the only people who knew he went missin’! How the hell am I not gon’ think you niggas don’t know what’s goin on?” He rolled his eyes at that, smacking his lips before retorting with,

“Because we don’t!”

Time stopped right there for me. The feeling of defeat wrapped me in a blanket made from anger and I let it suffocate me. I let the suffocation of anger and fear fill my chest as I weighed down my options of either, arguing more, or, letting the situation rock because it was now out of my control.  

“Bullshit…” I mumbled, shaking my head. “Listen, I just—I don’t know anymore.” My mouth slowly closed as I ran a hand through my hair. Chest rising up and down, I brought both hands together and intertwined my fingers.

“Don’t you gotta be at the airport?”

I snapped my head up in his direction before putting my gaze back on my hands.

“Yeah,” I answered, unlocking my hands and palming the counter under them.

I had a bitter taste in my mouth. My eyes threatened to leak—but I wasn’t going to do that. I wouldn’t allow him to see me break as such. Anger had me in its grip and I knew I needed to leave before I resorted into my hands speaking for me.

Shaking my head, I pushed my body away from the counter and without another word walked out of the kitchen with Chaos right on my heels. I could feel his bulky body inches from mine, but he soon stopped following me when he saw where I was headed.

“Hey mija,” I cooed towards her, picking her up off of the plush carpet. Her little arms wrapped around my neck in excitement as she left slobbery kisses on my face.

“Mommy’s gonna go, okay?” I whispered to her. Our noses touched as I placed a peck on her lips—a smile graced her tiny face. “I love you.”

As I placed her down, the sound of Chaos clearing his throat made me regret everything about today. With one last look at Maria, I turned towards him but walked for the door until he grabbed my forearm before I could reach the door handle.

“What?”

He sucked his teeth. “Don’t act like that.”

“Listen,” I said, rolling my eyes. “I have to go, make sure my baby is taken care of Chris.”

His eyes widen at the sound of his name before a short, forced, chuckle left his lips. He nodded before shaking his head and letting go of my arm.

“Have a safe trip.”

I couldn’t speak anymore. So I just walked out.

 Below the spectrum of depression is what I like to call “numbness”. Hence, you feel like you exist, but nonetheless, you still manage to feel like you’re in limbo. To you, there is no other reason to feel joy or the happiness you might want to have later on. In that state, it’s easy for you to misguide yourself and wonder what it would be like if you simply, weren’t there.

Would this have happened if I were never here?

If we never met, would he still be here?

If my life no longer mattered, would his fate still be altered?

My mind raced for some reasonable possibilities to keep my dark thoughts away. But each possibility matched one of my depressive thoughts—I wanted a drink. I wanted the biggest bottle of Chardonnay this plane had and I wanted it lodged down my esophagus.

But you’re better than that, I thought to myself.

My tongue laid flat against the roof of my mouth as I gnawed at my bottom lip. I let my acrylics tap on the glass window next to me, not caring if I annoyed anybody. For the time being I needed something, anything, to distract me from the oncoming wave of destruction I wanted to cause.

Chaos texted me shortly after I had arrived to the airport. Never knew the man to be such the novelist.

At the time of the text I hadn’t cared for him as much. Even now, I still don’t wish to speak to him. Call me childish or anything you’d like but I won’t surround myself with people who think of such situations as me playing a pity party for myself. Never have I once came to him with anything about his brother that wasn’t worthy of his knowledge.

Besides Maria, at least.

Now that this bombshell is on my plate, I’m lost for words on what to do. The person knows where I live, they know about Christian, so what else do they know? What don’t they know, is honestly the scarier part to me. Just the thought of Christian being out there alive and not knowing, or knowing a small fragment of what’s happened since he’s been gone makes me sick at it.

What if he knows?

What if he doesn’t? How much will it affect us?

With all the what if’s and not’s. With all the how’s and why’s—I still get nervous at the latter possibility. I get downright queasy with the thought of having to see him in a wooden box before I got the chance to tell him that I love him.

Before I could suck myself into a deeper hole, the plane shook with slight turbulence. Seconds later, the pilot announces,

Flight One-Eighty, you have arrived at JFK.

A smile of relief found my face. I envisioned the look of my father’s face when he sees me. I had so much to tell him, especially with Maria, I just hoped he held as much enthusiasm as I did.

So when the plane landed and I gathered my bags and walked off with the other passengers—my phone dinged twice.

[hamilficsfordays]

Tease You (Janthony)

Prompt:  Jasmine x Anthony Fluffy Smut where Jasmine sexts Anthony while he's at work and she's in England with her family. When she comes back from England they..ya know lol

Author’s Note: Say it with me folks, “I sure hope Anthony and Jasmine never find this!” This was pretty easy to write though because not only do I think they’re an insanely cute couple, but I find them both outrageously attractive.

Pairing: Jasmine-Cephas Jones/Anthony Ramos

Summary: Jasmine is visiting her family overseas in London while Anthony is back in New York, still working on Hamilton. Feeling especially provocative one night, she sends a few sexts right before he’s about to go onstage. Physical discomfort ensues.

Rating: M for lots and lots of smut.

Warnings: Seriously, it’s all smut. I would warn anyone under 18 not to read, but I read shit like this all the time as a teenager so... I can’t tell you what to do.

Words: 1349

Askbox / Masterlist / What I Write

It was after midnight in London, but Jasmine was far from tired.

If any of her relatives had asked, she would say that she was still mentally on New York time and wasn’t tired.

That was half true.

Thousands of miles away and five hours behind, Anthony was about to take the stage in Hamilton. It was yet another show without his girlfriend, who was overseas visiting her family.

They had a tradition of talking before every show, a tradition that would not be limited by distance or time zones.

Pulling out his phone just a few minutes before places, he typed a quick text and sent it to her.

[U up?]

Jasmine was expecting the text as per their usual routine, with a something a little more exciting in mind.

[Yeah, can I get your opinion on something?]

[Sure.]

[Does this bra look good on me?]

Attached to the text was a selfie of her taken from above. She was on her knees, her bra barely visible as it was so low-cut. She had a playful smile, knowing exactly what he would think.

[Damn what bra?]

Anthony could feel excitement building below his waist, but tried to suppress the feeling knowing he was minutes from going onstage.

Before he could completely compose himself, Jasmine sent another text.

[What about these panties? Do they make my butt look big?]

Another photo, this one showing the bow on the back of her bright red underwear, hardly leaving much to the imagination.

“Oh shiiiit,” he said out loud.

“Hey, I got your mic.” Their leading sound tech stepped into his dressing room alongside their hair stylist.

“Oh yeah, one sec.” He typed another quick response.

[in like the best way possible, yeah]

He sat still, waiting for his mic to be put into place inside his ponytail when he saw his phone vibrate on the table, signaling two new texts. He waited until he was alone again to read it.

[It’s too bad you’re not here right now.]

[Just thinking of what I would do to you if you were here is getting me so wet.]

The excitement was back, even stronger this time.

[Jas holy shit i’m about to go on this is torture]

[Sorry, am I making you uncomfortable? I hope it’s okay that I’m thinking about you while I’m touching myself]

“Oh my god.” he said aloud, considering a reasonable response.

[Such a tease… you’re killing me.]

[You know how I love to tease you]

A winking emoji followed, taunting him as his pants became noticeably tighter.

There was a call for places over the speaker in his dressing room, the other actors beginning heading out.

He would never take his phone onstage, which meant leaving it behind in his dressing room until he died before the end of the first act.

[I have to go on now]

[I’ve got a surprise waiting for you when you get back.]

Anthony left the phone on the table and headed to places, focusing on deep breathing to try and calm his growing erection.

His distress was clearly visible as he passed by Lin on his way to his designated starting point.

“You okay, man?” he asked, concerned.

“What? Me? No, I’m great. Best day ever. Let’s do this.” He rushed off, heading to places.

-

The entire first act was uncomfortable. He had managed to tuck the growing issue into the waistband of his costume, though the bulge itself was still slightly visible.

By the time he had reached the end of the first act, his death scene which usually always left him emotional, was rather relieving.

He made a beeline for his dressing room, unable to type as fast as his sex drive desired.

[Alright Laurens is dead. You mentioned a surprise?]

[Ready?]

She sent another photo, this time of her, completely nude with a teasing smile.

He was stunned silent.

[god damn]

[Jas I want you so bad rn]

Before he could even process the photo, she’d sent another.

[Hope you’re ready for act two.]

A different position, but the same smile.

[can’t say no to this]

He adjusted his costume, trying to make room for his growing discomfort.

[oh shit]

[I’m so hard]

[please tell me you’re on a plane home right now]

Something about the idea of him sexually frustrated without her seemed to please Jasmine.

[nope. See you next week.]

He groaned out loud, forcing himself to calm down by the end of intermission. Second act was even worse, as he couldn’t get the photos of her out of his head.

By the end of the show, he was desperate to get home. He skipped signing autographs at the stage door, taking a train straight home to Brooklyn. Once he got through the door, he couldn’t unzip his pants fast enough, jerking off quickly; a much needed release.

He missed Jasmine. That was hard to deny.

Six days went by. It was the day before Jasmine came home and Anthony was in his apartment, lounging in his couch on a night off still fixated on her photos.

There’s a knock at the door, grabbing his attention. Curious, he answers it to find Jasmine behind it, home a day early.

“Jas, you’re back early!” He pulled her inside, closing the door behind her before they kissed.

“I couldn’t wait to see you.” she explained, kissing him again. “You wouldn’t happen to be doing anything important right now, are you?”

“Uh,” he glanced behind him at the couch. “I was just checking out those pictures you sent me.”

“Good.” She smiled, pushing him back towards the couch. “How about now you check out the real thing?”

Straddling his lap, she slowly pulled her top off, tossing it aside.

Leaning in to kiss. Jasmine ran her fingers through his hair, pulling out his hair tie.

Their lips met, hungry, passionate. She could already feel him reaching for the clasp of her  bra, slowly pulling it off.

Their kiss broke only for a moment as Anthony pulled his own shirt off.

She could already feel him attempting to pull down her leggings, his hand reaching into the front of her panties. He knew just what to do to get her excited, Jasmine confirming just that as she moaned against him.

She stood up then, quickly pulling her leggings off the rest of the way, her panties following right after. He was quick to remove his own pants, revealing himself, standing tall.

She straddled him again, taking hold of him as their lips reattached. Carefully, she positioned herself over him. They both gasped as she guided him inside, adjusting until they were both comfortable.

Anthony spent a lot of his free time working out, making it easy for him to keep up with her thrusts, moving up to meet her each time. They kept a slow pace, Jasmine breathing heavy as they pushed on.

“Oh fuck,” she managed between breaths. His thumb had found her clit, pushing her even further.

Her nails were digging into his back as she held on, begging for release.

“I bet this is better than the photos.” she whispered in his ear.

“I can’t make you cum in those photos.” With that he thrusted harder, sending her over the edge.

She screamed, dragging her nails along his back. Her whole body shuddered as she came, burying her head in his neck.

Feeling her tighten around him sent Anthony over the edge as well, groaning as he exploded inside of her; a long-awaited release.

They were sweaty, out of breath, a mess. Still, they cuddled on the couch even after it was over.

“Maybe I should go away more often if it’s gonna be this good when I get back.” she teased.

“Nah, you’re never allowed to go on vacation again.” he joked, kissing her. “I missed you way too much.”

“I can’t tease you as well from here.” she pointed out.”

“You can, I just don’t have to wait a week to do something about it.”

Jasmine smiled, wrapped in his arms. That seemed fair.

[ngop3]

I’m going to start with a secret. Actually, you may learn a few secrets in this story, because I feel like I am misunderstood by many people. But let’s start with the first one.

Three months ago, when Barcelona made their incredible comeback against Paris St.-Germain in the Champions League, I was watching every moment from my couch. You might think from reading the newspapers that I was hoping my old club would lose.

But when my brother Neymar scored that beautiful free kick? I jumped up from my couch and was screaming at the television.

“Vamoooooooos!”

And when Sergi Roberto performed a miracle in the 95th minute?

Like every other Barca fan in the world, I was going absolutely crazy. Because the truth is that Barcelona is still in my blood.

Was I disrespected by the board of directors before I left the club last summer? Absolutely. That is simply how I feel, and you can never tell me any different. But you cannot play for a club for eight years, and achieve everything that we did, and not have that club in your heart forever. Managers, players and board members come and go. But Barca will never go away.

Before I went to Juventus, I made a final promise to the board at Barcelona. I said, “You’re going to miss me.”

I didn’t mean as a player. Barca have plenty of incredible players. What I meant was that they were going to miss my spirit. They were going to miss the care I had for the dressing room. They were going to miss the blood I spilled every time I put on the shirt.

When I had to play against Barca in the next round, it was a very weird feeling. Especially in the second leg at the Camp Nou, I felt like I was home again. Right before the match started, I went over to the Barca bench to say hello to my old friends, and they were saying, “Dani, come sit with us! We saved your seat!”

PHOTO BY JOAN VALLS/NURPHOTO/ZUMA PRESS

I was shaking everybody’s hand with my back to the referee. All of a sudden, I heard a whistle. I turned around and the referee had already started the match. I went sprinting back to the field, and I could hear my old manager, Luis Enrique, laughing his ass off.

It’s funny right? But that match was not a joke, especially not to me. People see me and they say, “Dani’s always joking. He’s always smiling. He’s not serious.”

I could hear my old manager, Luis Enrique, laughing his ass off.

Listen, I’ll tell you another secret. Before I go up against the best forwards in the world — Messi, Neymar, Cristiano — I study their strengths and weaknesses like an obsession, and then I plan how I am going to attack. My goal is to show the world that Dani Alves is on the same level. Maybe they will dribble past me once or twice. Sure, O.K. But I will attack them, too. I don’t want to be invisible. I want the stage. Even at 34 years old, after 34 trophies, I still feel I have to prove this every time.

But it goes even deeper than that.

Right before every match, I have same the routine. I stand in front of a mirror for five minutes and I block out everything. Then a movie begins to play in my mind. It is the movie of my life.

In the first scene, I’m 10 years old. I’m sleeping on a concrete bed at my family’s tiny home in Juazeiro, Brazil. The mattress over the bed is as thick as your little finger. The house smells of wet soil, and it is still dark outside. It’s five in the morning, and the sun has not risen, but I have to go help my father on our farm before school.

My brother and I walk out into the field, and our father is already out there working. He’s got a big, heavy tank on his back, and he’s spraying the fruits and plants with chemicals to kill the bacteria.

We’re probably too young to handle the toxins, but we help him anyway. This is just our way to survive. For hours, I compete with my brother to see who can be the hardest worker. Because the one who our father decides has helped him the most gets the rights to our only bicycle.

If I don’t win the bicycle, I have to walk the 12 miles from the farm to my school. The walk back from school is even worse, because the pickup football games in our neighborhood will start without me. So I run the 12 miles back and then just keep running right out onto the pitch.

But if I do win the bicycle? Then I can get the girls. I can pick up one of them on the road and offer them a ride to school. For 12 miles, I’m the man.

So I work my ass off.

I look at my father as I leave for school, and he’s still got the big tank on his back. He’s got a full day in the field ahead of him, and then at night he’s got a little bar that he runs to make extra money. He was a hell of a footballer when he was young, but he didn’t have the money to make it to a bigger city so he could be seen by scouts. He wants to make sure that I have that opportunity, even if it kills him.

The screen fades to black.

Now it’s Sunday, and we’re watching the football matches on our black-and-white TV. There’s steel wool wrapped around the antenna so we can pick up the signal from the city, far away. For us, this is the best day of the week. There’s a lot of joy in our house.

The screen fades to black.

Now my father is driving me to town in his old car so I can try out in front of some scouts. The car is a stick shift, and it only has two gears — slow and slower. I can smell the smoke.

My dad is a hustler. I gotta be a hustler, too.

The screen fades to black.

Now I’m 13, and I’m at this academy for young footballers in a bigger town, away from my family. There are 100 kids packed into a small dormitory. It’s kind of like a prison. The day before I left home, my father went into town and bought me a new football outfit. He doubled my wardrobe, because I only had one outfit to begin with.

After the first day of training, I hang the new kit on the line to dry. The next morning, it’s gone. Somebody has taken it. That’s when I realize that this is not the farm anymore. This is the real world, and the reason they call it the real world is because shit is real out here.

I go back to my room, and I’m starving. We train all day, and there’s not enough food at the camp. Somebody stole my clothes. I miss my family, and I’m definitely not the best player here. Out of 100, I’m maybe 51st in ability. So I make myself a promise.

I tell myself, “You are not going back to the farm until you make your father proud. You might be 51st in ability. But you are going to be No. 1 or 2 in drive. You are going to be a warrior. You are not going back home, no matter what.”

The screen fades to black.

Now I’m 18 years old, and I’m telling one of the only lies I’ve ever told in football.

I’m playing for Bahia in the Brazilian league when a big scout comes up to me and says, “Sevilla are interested in signing you.”

I say, “Sevilla! Amazing.”

The scout says, “Do you know where that is?”

I say, “Of course I know where Sevilla is. Sev-iiiillaaaaa. I love it.”

But I have no f******g idea where Sevilla is. It could be on the moon for all I know. But the way he says the name makes it sound important, so I lie.

A few days later, I start asking around, and I find out that Sevilla plays against Barcelona and Real Madrid. In Portuguese, we have an expression for this kind of moment.

I said to myself, “Agora.”

It’s like, Bang. Now. Let’s go.

The screen fades to black.

Now I’m in Sevilla, and I’m so malnourished that the coaches and other players are looking at me like I must play for the youth team. I am in the middle of the hardest six months of my life. I don’t speak the language. The manager isn’t playing me, and it’s the first time I really think about going home.

But then, for some reason, I think about the new outfit that my father bought me when I was 13. The one that got stolen. I think of him with the tank strapped to his back, spraying chemicals. And I decide that I’m going to stay and learn the language and try to make some friends, so that at least I can go back to Brazil with a new experience to share.

When the season begins, the manager instructs everyone, “At Sevilla, our defense does not go past the halfway line. Never.”

I play a few games, kicking the ball around, looking at that line. Just looking at it, like a dog who’s afraid to cross an invisible fence in his yard. Then, one game, for some reason, I just let go. I have to be me.

I say, “Agora.”

And I just go. Attack, attack, attack.

It works like magic. After that, the manager says, “O.K., Dani. New plan. At Sevilla, you attack.”

In just a few seasons, we go from being a relegation club to lifting the UEFA Cup twice.

The screen fades to black.

My phone is ringing. It’s my agent.

“Dani, Barcelona are interested in signing you.”

I do not have to lie this time. I know where Barcelona is.

PHOTO BY DAVID RAMOS/GETTY IMAGES

That is the movie that plays in my head when I stare in the mirror before every match. At the end, before I walk back to the dressing room, I always say the same thing to myself.

Shit, I came from nowhere.

I am here now.

It’s unreal, but I am here.

When I was 18, I moved across the ocean just for the opportunity to play for a club that played against Barcelona. So to have the honor of playing for Barca? It was incredible. I got to be a witness to true genius.

I remember during one training session, Messi was doing things with the ball at his feet that defied logic. Of course, that is what he did every day. Only this time, something was different.

Now, I need to remind you, this was an extremely intense training session. We were not messing around. Messi was dribbling through the defense and finishing like a killer.

And then as he’s running past me, I look down at his cleats, and I’m thinking to myself, Is this a joke?

He comes running past again, and I think, No, it’s impossible.

He comes running past again, and now I’m sure what I’m seeing.

His damn cleats are untied. Both of them.

I mean completely untied. This guy is playing against the best defenders in the world, just floating around the pitch, and he’s acting like it’s a Sunday in the park. That was the moment when I knew that I was never going to play with someone like him ever again in my life.

And then, of course, there’s Pep Guardiola.

PHOTO BY OTTO GREULE JR/GETTY IMAGES

If you turn the word computer backwards, it spells Steve Jobs.

If you turn the word football backwards, it spells Pep.

He is a genius. I’ll say it again. A genius.

Pep would tell you exactly how everything was going to happen in a match before it even happened. For example, the game against Real Madrid in 2010, when we won 5–0? Pep told us before the match, “Today, you’re going to play like the football is a ball of fire. It never stays at your feet. Not even a half second. If you do that, there will be no time for them to pressure us. We will win easily.”

The sensation when we left every one of his prematch talks was like we were already up three-nil. We were so empowered, so prepared, that it felt like we were already winning.

The funniest thing was if we came in at halftime and the game wasn’t going well. Pep would sit down and rub his forehead. You know how he rubs his head? You’ve seen it, right? Like he’s massaging his brain, searching for the genius to come to him.

He would do this right in front of us in the dressing room. Then, like magic, it would come to him.

Bang!

“I’ve got it!”

Then he would jump up and start barking out instructions, drawing maths and figures on the board.

“We will do this, this and this, and then this is how we will score.”

So we would go out, and we would do this, this and this. And that’s how we would score. It was crazy.

Pep was the first coach in my life who showed me how to play without the ball. And he wouldn’t just demand that his players change their game, he would sit us down and show us why we wanted us to change with statistics and video.  

PHOTO BY DAVID RAMOS/GETTY IMAGES

Those Barca teams were pretty much unbeatable. We played by memory. We already knew what we were going to do. We didn’t have to think.

That is why, to this day, Barca is in my heart.

That is why, when we beat Barcelona in the Champions League quarterfinals, I walked up to my brother Neymar, and I gave him a hug. He was crying, and a part of me felt like crying, too.

I can imagine people reading this and asking why I am sharing these secrets.

Well, the truth is, I am 34 years old. I don’t know how much longer I will play. Maybe two or three years. And I feel as though people do not understand me, and my full story.

When I came to Juventus this season, it was like I was leaving home again. I did it when I was 13, going to the academy. I did it again at 18, going to Spain. And then I did it again at 33, going to Italy.

When I first arrived at Juve, it was like going to a completely new school. My whole life, I had loved to attack. And now I was coming to a place where they value defending above everything.

Once again, I was the dog in the yard. I was staring at the invisible fence.

Should I go?

But I did not go. At the beginning of the season, I wanted to make sure that the Juve players understood that I respected their philosophy, and their history. Once I made sure that I had their respect, I tried to show them my strengths, too.

One day, I looked at the halfway line, and I said to myself, Should I go?

… Bang. Agora.

Attack, attack, attack. (And, O.K., maybe defend a bit, too, or Buffon will be yelling at me.)

I sometimes think that life is a circle.

See, I cannot get away from these Argentinians.

At Barca, I had Messi.

At Juve, I have Dybala.

Genius follows me everywhere, I swear.

PHOTO BY DANIELE BADOLATO/LAPRESSE/ICON SPORTSWIRE

In training one day, I saw something in Dybala that I had seen before in Messi. It was not just the gift of pure talent. I have seen that many times in my life. It was the gift of pure talent combined with the will to conquer the world.

At Barca, we played by memory.

At Juve, it’s different. It’s our collective mentality that has carried us to the Champions League final. When the whistle blows, we simply find a way to win no matter what. Winning is not just a goal at Juve, it’s like an obsession. There are no excuses.

This Saturday, I have a chance to win my 35th trophy in 34 years on earth. It is a special opportunity for me, and it has nothing to do with proving to the Barcelona board that they made a mistake in letting me go.

I know that they will never admit that.

That’s not the point.

Do you remember what I told you about the moment at the academy in Brazil? When I said to myself that I would never go back to the farm until I made my father proud?

Well, my father is not a very emotional man. I never knew when I had actually made him truly proud. For most of my career, he was back home in Brazil. But in 2015, he was there in Berlin to see me win the Champions League final for the very first time in person. I remember after the trophy celebrations on the field, Barca had a special party for the families of the players. We got to hand over the trophy to the people who had helped us achieve our dreams. I remember when it was my turn I passed the trophy to my father, and we were both holding it, posing for a photo.

And he said something in Portuguese that is actually a dirty word, so I won’t translate it word for word.

But he basically said, “My son is the man now.”

And you know what? He was crying like a baby.

That was the greatest moment of my life.

On Saturday, I will have the chance to play for another Champions League trophy against a very familiar opponent. Like always, I will study Cristiano like an obsession.

Like always, I will go to the mirror before the match and play the same movie in my mind.

The screen will go black, and I will remember these things….

My concrete bed.

The smell of wet soil.

My father with the tank of chemicals on his back.

The 12 mile bike ride to school.

The new outfit.

The empty clothesline.

“Of course I know where Sevilla is.”

Shit, I came from nowhere.

I am here now.

It’s unreal, but I am here.

DANI ALVES

/ CONTRIBUTOR

[luciferinati]

Personal

Chapter 8

Lead roll - Mario

Others - Sergio, Paulo, Cristiano, Luka.

Words - 1587

@arduango @asensihoes @mandzomandzo @luka-moredick @domo-no-domo-yes @lovre-n @tinymodric @smolmandzo @mariomandzukiccc @djbagudina @aj-lajk @pachua @zadarskabagudina @marilyn-mandzukic @puolendollarinonni @sebby-ravnica @mad-for-mandzukic @flemishyugotalian @winters-chiid @sejan-is-love @footballcursed @ante-ray-bitch @synne-sol @smolmandzo @incorrect-croatia-nt @josephine-maaayy7 @lovren-la-vida-luka @read-all-day. @kettie09

-Woah, this is wild- Mario looks in the man that's sleeping on top of him. -Honestly, he looks kind of cute- the head turned to see the room; clothes, a knife and a pillow were on the ground, three bottles of Rakija and painkillers on the table. -No wonder I don't seem to remember things. What's the time?- He tried to get out of the blankets without waking up the other man, but without luck. Once he got up Ramos moaned, "Wow! Hello there naked butt," Mario automatically looked down to check if he was actually butt naked, and yep - he was.

"What the hell?" He turned to face Ramos who was looking at Mandžo like he was a piece of candy, " What did you do to me?"

"What did I do to you? More like what did you do to me!"

Mario stood there confused.

"What? You want to tell me you don't remember?"

"Honestly, I don't," Mario rook a pill and drank the mineral water he bought yesterday, then put it on the little table, " I will go to the shower," he watched the man stretch, "May I use that too?"

"Yeah, sure," He said and went off.

A cold shower was right on time. -This could literally cure anything and everything... Wait, I never looked at the clock. Damn it. - Once he got out his beloved robe was nowhere to be seen so he used a towel this time. And when he stepped out of the bathroom his gaze landed on the robe that was on a different body.

"You can go to the shower now,"

"Alright thanks," Ramos went to bathrooms direction.

"Clean towels are in that shelf," Mario pointed.

His head didn't ache as much as when he woke up so he just decided to clean the room up. First he turned on some music, put clean underwear on and turned on a coffee machine and then begun. He tried to remember what did they do in the night, he questioned if he still dislikes the man. He really had mixed feelings towards him, did he like him or hate him? He didn't know anymore. But one was clear Ramos loved him and Mario didn't know what to do about it. He liked Sergio's company, he liked what happened in the night, at least the parts he remembered. Also he thought about him a lot even before. -Am I actually obsessed with him?- He puzzled things together and he came across the fact that he actually did think about him a lot, even, though mostly those were bad things, like how much better he was than Ramos, how he would gladly punch him in the face, how he wanted to beat him in the games and show that his team is better than Sergio's. But even those thoughts kind of show his obsession with the man. And it shows that Ramos actually is a challenge for Mandžukič and he always loved some challenge. So that also meant he loved Sése, because he is his challenge for almost 5 years. Mario was in a black hole, he didn't know what is this relationship between both of them.

When Sergio went out of the shower Mario looked on the man - his hair, tattoo's, the water drops on his back and shoulders. Did he feel something?

"The coffee is ready, just add what you need,"

"Thanks," The Spanish man smiled, "I like your taste in music."

"Thanks, I'm glad to hear that,” after a while he spoke up again, “How long are you gonna stay here?”

“Well,” Ramos begun, “I can stay here as long as you want me to, also I’m not gonna wear my dirty clothes on my clean body.”

-Yeah, it is pretty disgusting to wear your dirty clothes on after a shower, especially underwear. – “Alright, let’s throw them in the washer, just take everything out of the pockets. You can wear my robe for now.”

A soft okay slipped out of Sergio’s mouth and both men begun to do other morning routine things, like cooking breakfast, watching the news and drinking morning coffee.

“So how’s Cristiano?” Sergio broke the silence.

“Do you really want to have that conversation?” Mario gave the really pissed off gaze.

“Well yes, I just did, I mean he is in Juve now.” The man explained.

“Honestly if you want to know how’s Cristiano ask Paulo, he seems to know everything about him now”

“Wait… the guy who called in the night?” Ramos was shook.

“Yeah?”

“On the other end of the line, it was Paulo and Cris?” Only hearing that made Mario mad and it was pretty visible.

“Okay here is the thing about Ron: he is not the one to fuck with – literally, unless you are absolutely down for one night stand and a booty call. He is not a person to commit to relationships, believe me all of those years in locker room can give you a lot of info, also the whole locker room knows the actual way how he gets all of his shit,” He took a sip of his coffee, “So if your friend Paulo expects more than a fuck from Cris, he is barking up the wrong tree.”

“Shit! I have to save that child from a broken heart,” Mandžukič said, even though he knew it was too late to save Paulo from it.

“Literally, the one you have to fight is the one who always tries to act all nice and try’s to be polite; I maybe am a dick on the field, but Cristiano is a dick in real life, he is so up in his ass to be honest.”

“I’ve always thought that he is that type of person. But I didn’t really expect it to be true. Thank you for that piece of information,” Mario winked, “Do you want breakfast?”

“More like lunch,” Ramos pointed out and showed the time on his wrist watch, it was a bit passed 1pm.

“Cool, I’m probably missing a training session, oh well, let’s hope they won’t beat me up because of it,” Mario laughed and went to the kitchen to grab some food. Once he turned back to the sofa where Ramos was sitting and watching the news.

“Yesterday was a blur, but.. um.. If I remember it right, did you really mean what you said about your feelings?”

“My tongue never lies when I’m drunk,” he looked at the Croat, “but did you mean what you said?”

“If I remembered I’d tell you, but I don’t remember half of what happened.”

“You told me everything you feel towards me – how much you wanted to kill me, because of how I tortured you and didn’t let you play, how much you love me and never want to let me go away, how big of a challenge I am to you and how much you love that, also how much you wanted to fuck me from the first time you saw me,” Ramos carefully recounted the information he was told in the night. Mario knew that it all could be true, but he wasn’t sure about the erotic part, but honestly if he really said it maybe it was true.

“Did I really say all that?”

“Dude, I think you were more drunk than I was at that point, but yes, you did say all of that. I could feel that you have mixed feeling towards me and well I can see why you do. Do you want me to tell you what happened?”

“Okay and yes, tell me.”

“What was the last thing you remember?”

“I don’t know, I think the point where you told me about how you feel about me, then I got Rakija, and after that I don’t remember much, I took a knife and you licked it? Was that real or did I dreamed of that?”

“Alrighty, you don’t remember quite a lot in that case, because well apparently we had more than that,”

“How much is more?”

“Oh gosh,” Ramos sighed, “Well, we kissed, we had a really intense make out session and well you tore my clothes off and teased me a lot, to summarize it – it was a night with so much heat in the bed, so I don’t know if it’s good that you don’t remember all of it or bad.”

Mario literally froze listening to all of it, he really couldn’t believe that he was capable of doing something like that.

“Okay that explains why we woke up naked and you were on top of me. Wow. Did we really-? Did I really-?” He kind of remembered the drunk kisses they exchanged and he kind of wanted to kiss Sergio again, he looked at his lips to remember the smack of them; the taste of Rakija seemed to appear on Mandžo’s lips, he remembered kissing it, drinking the brew will never be the same now, he will always remember Sergio’s lips when he will have the flavor on his tongue. Mario blankly stared on Ramos’ lips for too long, of course the man noticed, gently got closer and softly kissed him. Mario didn’t expect it, but well, he did stare and daydream of kissing them, so he got what he wanted. Feeling those lips was everything to Mario, it didn’t taste like the alcohol anymore, tho - now it was a sweet flavor of coffee. Feeling the lips against his was amazing either way.